What's New Pussycat

M, Zeus and I are entertaining a guest for the next few weeks. Her name is Luna.



Luna is Chris' kitty. She is named for one of the two cat advisors on the Japanese cartoon Sailor Moon (the other one was Artemis in case you were wondering). She has been with us for almost a week now and I believe has come to a point where she is "okay" with everything.




By okay I mean that she still sleeps under the futon, because that's a safe place. That's now a Luna space. Zeus has decided that she's generally not allowed into our bedroom, as that is a Zeus space. I'm not going to tell him that she spent most of last night looking out the window by my head.



M and I have learned that when petting Luna, it's all good until she flinches and then she turns into Sybil, and we jump back before she can shred us good. Zeus and Luna have now stopped serenading eachother with that wonderful kitty "Wrrrrrrrrrr." I'm not saying they're best friends, but watching her follow him around the house is pretty adorable as he's a much bigger kitty and they match. Hopefully I'll have a shot of that to share with you soon. Until then, say hello again to our guest.



Today's sing-a-long song: "All Cats Are Grey" by The Cure

HRH

I've been making shows of trading blows just hoping no one knows...

It seemed apropos to use that title today as Space will be showing one the of best Buffy episodes ever, Once More with Feeling and that I'm still locked in a death grip with a January depression. Thank goodness there's less than a day of the wretched month left.

I'd like to say that I'm down in the dumps because of X or I'm feeling so angry all the time due to Y. I like to think that I've given excellent performances in convincing others that there is a method to my madness; I'm bored; I'm turning 30 in 21 months; Will I ever get married; What does it mean to be married; Do I even want to get married; Will I ever have kids; What's the meaning of it all; Everyone hates me; I will soon be so fat that I fishermen will fire their mighty harpoons at me, mistaking me for a whale; My feet are dry... I'm reaching, I know. Bottom line, I don't know why I'm in this mood. And I just want to find something tangible to feel this way about and then solve it and hopefully exorcise the moody-angry-no-fun daemon from my life.

Alas, it remains free-floating lunacy. Even retail therapy failed to produce the desired effect (though having some new products did take the sting off a little). I've even tried colouring my hair to combat the effects of my mood, (My hair is now streaked with a dark purple, but you can start breathing again Mum, because I used a rinse so it will be gone in 10 days and you can pretend like it never happened) and I don't feel any better. In fact I feel a little worse. Purple hair? What was I thinking?

At least I'm kind of laughing at it. Happy end of January everyone.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Going through the motions" by Buffy Summers

HRH

WAR!

So Star Wars.com has released the opening crawl for Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. I've been keeping a passive eye on all the spoilers for this movie, so I have a pretty good idea of what is going to happen and by all accounts it looks like it's going to be pretty decent. The very cheese crawl gives me a bit of pause, but I forgive it simply because I now feel empowered to start all my conversations and stories with "WAR!"

Those who are trying to remain spoiler-free should maybe not read the following crawl.

Episode III

REVENGE OF THE SITH

War! The Republic is crumbling
under attacks by the ruthless
Sith Lord, Count Dooku.
There are heroes on both sides.
Evil is everywhere.

In a stunning move, the
fiendish droid leader, General
Grievous, has swept into the
Republic capital and kidnapped
Chancellor Palpatine, leader of
the Galactic Senate.


As the Separatist Droid Army
attempts to flee the besieged
capital with their valuable
hostage, two Jedi Knights lead a
desperate mission to rescue the
captive Chancellor...

You can compare the Episode III crawl with the other five here. Maybe I'm just being an purist here, but I think the ROTS crawl is missing some CAPITAL LETTERS. True that in the other crawls with captials the words in all caps represent the major issue in the film (ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC, DEATH STAR, GALACTIC EMPIRE). In Episode III, it would take some pretty crafy crawl writing to pull off CHOSEN ONE ANAKIN SKYWALKER FALLS FROM GRACE AND BECOMES THE DARK LORD OF THE SITH, DARTH VADER. Not so subtle.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Crawling" by Linkin Park

HRH

Chelsea FC headline of the week

It looks like Chelsea FC is primed to win the premireship (yay!) and may win an unprecedented four titles this season. With that comes a slew of new headlines for me to share with you:

Chelsea's exotic face
Giggs: We had Chelsea rattled
Chelsea destroys United's semi record
Betting Companies to Lose $9.4 Million If Chelsea Wins 4 Titles
Fergie's men face character test after defeat to Chelsea

My personal favourite of this batch:
Chelsea begins to look invincible

Can't wait to see how the final match turns out. Should make for a great harvest of hilarity.

Today's sing-a-long song: "The Name of the Game" by ABBA

HRH

Knocking my own socks off

As part of my plan to conquer the raging case of SAD I seem to have I've taken up hobbies that can help me pass 7 hours without blinking an eye. It started with me finally organizing all the photos and mementos from our three years in Prague to be commemorated in a scrap-book-like thing and then I found that I was sifting through all of my photos and organizing them. Ahhh it felt wonderful. Everything, non-Prague related is in its right place and all the rest has been sorted into bags, waiting to keep me busy for many months to come. Oh the joy of having something to do!

During all photo gazing, I came across some photos my mother had taken of me as a wee-un. This may be one of my favourite photos. Not for my oh-so-feminine hair cut (yes that is sarcasm), but for the entirely too adorable ensemble my Mum clothed me in (I would LOVE to have that sweater now... but in an adult size of course) and the socks. The socks and mary-janes just kill me. And I'm on a swing and swings rock.



I'm getting on a swing as soon as this dumb snow melts. Mary-janes are optional.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Would You Like to Swing on a Star" by Bing Crosby

HRH

Trees outside my window

In the moments before sleep last night, I realized how much of my time I spend looking out my bedroom window at the trees. This is going to sound very granola of me, but I find trees calming. In the summer I love laying down on the grass and listening to the leaves in the breeze. Leaves in the breeze is one of the best noises to fall asleep to, after a rain storm and waves. Early summer mornings are the best time to hear them. The street is very quiet, save the leaves and the birds and you open your eyes and see a canopy of green. Can you tell I'm desperate for the winter to be over?

I miss all the green, but I did find some solace last night as I looked at the barren branches outside my window. I was hating the winter and hating the cold and then I realized to could see the stars. I could also see airplanes making their final approach towards Pearson and at that distance, they're actually quite pretty. I can't normally see these things through the canopy of leaves and I'm daily cursing the barren trees for letting the morning sun flood the bedroom and making the dirty windows impossible to ignore. But this discovery made the January cold a little less bitter.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Sycamore trees" by Angelo Badlamenti

HRH

A question for the producers of CSI

WHY? Why have you not encorporated Jenny was a Friend of Mine by The Killers into an Episode of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation? Not only are The Killers from Las Vegas, but they are one of the hottest things since sliced bread out there right now. The song is also just awesome. Plenty of energy, well executed and just read the lyrics:

We took a walk that night, but it wasn't the same
We had a fight on the promenade out in the rain
She said she loved me, but she had somewhere to go
She couldn't scream while I held her close
I swore I'd never let her go

Tell me what you wanna know
Oh come on, oh come on, oh come on
There ain't no motive for this crime
Jenny was a friend of mine
So come on, oh come on, oh come on

I know my rights, I've been here all day and it's time
For me to go, so let me know if it's alright
I just can't take this, I swear I told you the truth
She couldn't scream while I held her close
I swore I'd never let her go

Tell me what you wanna know
Oh come on, oh come on, oh come on
And then you whisper in my ear
I know what you're doing here
So come on, oh come on, oh come on
There ain't no motive for this crime
Jenny was a friend of mine
Oh come on, oh come on, oh come on

It couldn't be more perfect. I'll be watching and waiting.

Today's sing-a-long song: See above

HRH

What's a Magneto?

After playing Tetris Worlds for about 2 hours straight on my Gameboy Advance last night I put down the game and commented quietly "My thumbs hurt." Yesterday was a bad day for my psyche. I woke up haze of self loathing that really found its peak in the evening. This manifested itself in many fits of tears, all of which were deftly managed by my beloved. Now it may be that the thumbs comment was the only thing I said last night that wasn't motivated by my weepy mood, because M really went with it.

"Ahhh, but soon your thumbs will be mighty. Soon you will be able to vanquish your foes, with only your thumbs. Small tribes of people will come and worship at your thumbs, for they will be great."

This all got me thinking about mutations. Like what if my mutant gift was really big and/or powerful thumbs. How much would that suck. Or what if you were the mutant who could just grow their hair really fast. Interesting, yes. A useful tool in the battle against evil? No. All the of X-Men have really cool mutant powers, can you imagine what it would be like to be a mutant and to have a lame power. A total double whammy of suckage. So much rejection.

Thankfully, my mutant powers have nothing to do with my thumbs...

Today's sing-a-long song: "The Radiation Song" by The Mutants

HRH

Ghetto Fabulous Me

M's step-brother and his wife left a bottle of Alize for us from their visit over the holidays. I'd never heard of it before and apparently it's big in the US. M decided to try some of it as we were making dinner last night and filled me in on it's legacy. Apparently it's all the rage in the hip-hop rap world. A mixture of cognac and passion fruit juice, Alize (and it's vodka-infused conterpart Hpnotiq) strikes me as a really, really girly drink. I can barely taste the cognac and I have the most immature-girly palatte of everyone I know. Furthermore, I actually find it kind of enjoyable.

Now, I don't want to even suggest that I'm questioning the masculinty of the gangsta-set, but the fact that drinks like this and champange are the beverages of choice and the fact that they're wearing all those diamonds... I know it's a status thing, but it's just kinda girly. Of course, I think everyone could stand to be a bit more girly, so kudos to them for clueing in. Let us revel in our shared affection for good champange, manicures, chrome and jewellery. Holla?

Today's sing-a-long song: "Gangsta Trippin" by Fatboy Slim

HRH

The heavens open up and try to cast me out in a flood

If I were a person of faith, I'm pretty sure I would have taken my walk home as a sign. A sign that if there were a God, and that God was (were, GAH!) vengeful, s/he had decided to toss down a flood to try and clean me out of his/her paradise.

Thank goodness for Atheism, so I don't have to take the weather so personally.

In all seriousness, there were times on my walk down from the subway station that I honestly worried about being washed out into Lake Ontario, my precious things included (today's precious things were my ipod, gameboy, clie, wallet, phone, the scarf that Natasha & Chris gave me, all my clippings from work in the last year and a treasured copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Like I said, precious). At one point halfway down the road, listening to the theme from the Batman Animated Series, the actual thunderclap in the sky coincided with the thunderclap in the song and all the lights on the block went out. I think I actually said "Oops" out loud. Not that anyone would have been able to hear me over the din, because at that moment the heavens opened up further.

I guess I'm glad it was rain instead of snow and I guess I'm glad that I'm relatively mobile so I could jump up onto people's snow-covered lawns to avoid the surf worthy waves being thrown up by the drivers who think that being courteous to pedestrians is so last year. Yeah I guess that's a good thing, cause that's so easy to do when you're carrying a purse, totebag and umbrella, clutching an ipod remote at the same time.

If I did believe in signs, I can take today as one that today was not a day to walk to the TTC.

HRH

The kindness of strangers

I don't know if anyone's noticed, but it's ridiculously slippery outside today. So slippery that I made to two steps away from my front walk and completely bailed. Feet left the ground an everything and I imagine my right side will be a lovely shade of purple tomorrow. So chic.

It took me a couple of minutes to get myself together and as I sat there on the cold, wet and slippery sidewalk, an SUV pulled up beside me and the driver called out to see if I was okay. I reported that I wasn't hurt, though I think my face may have betrayed me a little as I stood up because the driver insisted upon driving me to the streetcar stop. How nice was that.

Then the whole trip into the downtown core the streetcar drviers were especially courteous, waiting a bit longer at the stops so people wouldn't try to run on the ice to catch a car. As my car pulled up to University Ave. my driver called out the time and told everyone to have a great day.

People talk about how rude and unpleasant Torontonians are and I find it puzzling. I must be living in a different city 'cause nice things just keep on happening to me.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Come together" by The Beatles

HRH

Dumb things boys have said to me

Sometimes you think about the past. Maybe you hear a song or smell a smell that brings to back to a moment in time and that moment gives you pause for reflection. Like today, a song came up on my ipod that sent me right back to seven years ago and a conversation. The conversation wasn't too much to write home about, save one exchange, which got me reflecting some more and made me want to write this down and get it off my chest.

The following are strings of words, commonly known as sentences, that dumb boys have put together using one, perhaps two neurons to form them and actually said to me.

Chelsea, you'd be perfect if you were 5'9"
To this day I still long to run into the guy who said this to me, and who thought that spending hours WATCHING him play sega hockey was entertaining for me in any way, pick him up by the throat and say "Do you feel like a big man now that you're looking down at me?"

I just wanted to love you in my own Trent Reznor-ish way
Tip to anyone with a shred of sanity, using a man who hates himself so much he makes the term self-loathing seem inadequate as an model for how you want to love someone is exact opposite of what anyone hoping form a functional bond with another human being should do. Angst is fine, as is having a a bit of a darkside, but wanting to love someone in the style of the guy who created The Downward Spiral, well it just doesn't sound like the kind of relationship that ends in any kind of happiness.

I only went to the strip club to play pool
Okay, seriously, you went to the club to look at the peelers. Don't insult my intelligence and suggest that there aren't piles and piles of other pool halls in the city. It's like Chris Rock says "No one goes to Hooters for wings." Admit it.

Ahhh, now I feel better.

HRH

Express yourself

I was making my way through Slashdot today, reading some comments about the growing number of restricted sites for the people of Iran, namely that most of the blogging interfaces (like my beloved Blogger) and Yahoo are now blocked by the government and I got all ticked off.

First of all, ew to the Iranian state. Government censorship is another brick on the road to evil. Awful as it is, it is not what has my knickers in a knot today. No, it's a comment someone left in regards to the growing popularity of Blogs.

There are a zillion blogs on there now, it updates so fast that you could post your own blog and not make it to the "Latest Updates" page and catch your post before more than 500 new items scrolled it off the screen.

If everyone has a voice, no one really has a voice. Any single voice will be drowned out by many thousands of "Gee, this is my blog, I thought it would be a good idea to start one because my cat is so cute. I'll post pictures of my cat and I love Jesus."

And it's not just this comment that has me irked. I've been sensing a snarky undercurrent to a lot of posts I've been reading of late, from people bitching about how "common" blogging has become. We may not care that people have cute cats and I know that I don't care that they love Jesus, but it doesn't mean they shouldn't say so.

Honestly, so what if someone has a blog that doesn't interest you. Oh my God, the sin. It's entirely possible that there are other people out there who love cats or love religion or even love Telly Sevalas. What is important is that people have the right and the opportunity to say so. Sure, I may not give a shit if someone has a cute cat or thumps the book, but I LOVE the fact that there is the forum where people can express themselves.

That is what the blogging movement is about. It's about millions of voices and millions of readers, all with different opinions and ideas. Just because you have a voice, it doesn't mean you're going to be articulate or able to spew out quality all the time. All that means is that you may not have a high readership. That's it.

I know I don't write this blog to be popular. It's first for me, second for my friends and family and maybe for the random people who stumble across it (though let's be honest, most of my readership consists of the Google bots). If writing about my cat or my love of makeup or my weight-loss saga and this is against the rules of "blogging", then the community can bite me, cause I for one will keep on talking and I hope that more and more people around the world can use their voices too. This is a party where you are supposed hear a million voices at the same time.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Silent all these years" by Tori Amos

HRH

Chelsea gets another Czech

When you share your name with a popular Premireship football team the potential for amusing headlines that contain your name is high. I have a colleague who will occasionally clip amusing football headlines and paste them on my nameplate. For example:

"10-man Monaco overwhelms Chelsea"
"Arsenal's lethal weapon kills Chelsea's Cup Hopes"
"Rivals crack under Chelsea's pressure"

Really the opportunities for for amusement are plenty. One of those opportunities took place today when Chelsea FC added another Czech player to its roster. The first player they have, their goalie, Petr Cech (who I believe to be the other good looking Czech man as I'd thought that M was the only one for so long) provided friends all kinds of opportunities to poke "pun." Like Miquel's "You mean there's a Czech protecting Chelsea's goal." Ha ha indeed.

Anyway, with the signing of Cech's former Sparta Praha teammate Jiri Jarosik there has been another spree of amusing Chelsea headlines to enjoy:

"Jarosik: Chelsea saved my life!"
"Jarosik Delights At Chelsea Move"

Of course I made up the headline for the title of this post. And really it is misleading as this Chelsea has only one Czech.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Say my name" by Destiny's Child

HRH

28 and still not a grown-up

Like Mr. Sun, I also suffer from Annual Organization Disorder, though my takes a slightly different format. I'm already well organized and documented (Clie and special event notebooks at home, the blog - Notebooks and Lotus at work), but every couple of months I feel the need to purge. I don't mean in the eating disorder sense, but in the "Oh-my-god-I-have-too-much-stuff-too-much-clutter-I-am-going-to-torch-my-house" sense. I walk through the house looking for things I can give to good will, throw away or re-organize.

It's during these times of trimming that I am faced with some very upsetting and emotional decisions. I like to think that being an adult with a job, bills to pay and the prospect of an aging body I can let go of the emotional attachments that I clung to in my youth. Sometimes I'm really good at doing this. I've been able to part with most of my teenage obsessions (sorry Donnie, but you just had to go), but there is one group of things that I just can't let go of.


Vienna

My stuffed animals.

I've done a decent job of letting so of some throughout the years. A mouse that nested in the body of one while it was in storage in Kingston, made letting go of a few a really easy decision. What I am left with is the creme de la creme. 14 stuffed animals which are almost all Gunds.


Spartacus the 9-Volt Pig and Leo

Last night I was so sure that I would be able to pack the ones in good shape up and send them off to GoodWill and the others I would throw out. I then walked into the guest room and almost started to cry.


Spock

I can't betray these wonderful stuffed buddies of mine who made sleeping possible so many nights, who made the sting of stupid boys and scraped knees hurt a little less. I have an unusually strong attachment to my animals. The two below got me through about 10 or 12 years of my life.


Vienna & Basil

I'm 28. I should be able to let go of these things. I have lots of live things to hug and to help make things sting a little less, but I just can't let go of these toys. When I think about what I would grab if the house were on fire the list goes like this: M (though he should be able to handle himself, Zeus and Bundy (I'd say Dee, my double bass, but practically speaking the odds of getting a double bass out of a 3rd floor apartment in a fire...). I'm totally not kidding. I go nowhere without Bundy and it's been this way since I could walk and go places. My parents bought Bundy for me just before I was born. Being the second child Mum wanted to be sure that all my toys weren't hand-me-downs. He's more than 28-years-old now, but I still sleep with him at my bedside (much to M's chagrin, as a 28-year-wornout stuffed animal is admittedly not in the best ascetic shape possible).


Bundy

He's my stuffed animal and I think I just have to accept that there is a part of me that will always be a child and will need her stuffed animals.

HRH