All that is good and green

Over the long weekend I planted my balcony garden. I promised to post some photos of what was growing out there and finally I have managed to. Hopefully I will get a photo of my beloved Queen of the Night Tulips before they depart for the summer. Until then, garden highlights!









It's very purple and yellow, I know. There is another big pot with more purple, white and hot, hot pink, but it wasn't in photo form today... perhaps another day.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Where the Wild Roses Grow" by Nick Cave & Kylie Minogue

HRH

How's my driving?

Imagine this...

You are a young man, driving down a tree-lined Toronto street. The early evening sun is streaming through the leaves of the trees and the weather is warm. Puddles from the previous day's rain are almost gone.

You are headed to your friend's house on this street. As you are making your way along the road you happen upon a girl. A young woman if you will. She is carrying a couple of grocery bags and is listening to an ipod. She is tall and well dressed, wearing a white denim skirt, light turquoise top, black cardigan, black mules and a fuschia purse. Her hair is long and brown. She has curled the lower sections of her hair as it is the day after a blowout, giving it a modern romantic look. Her posture is good and her step is light. You can tell she is in a good mood.

You slow down as you pass her, cranking your head around to get a look at her face. She is attractive, wearing green tinted sunglasses and clearly lost in what ever song she is listening to. You continue you stare as you drive by, unaware of the puddle you are about to drive into. You keep on staring at her and then feel your right wheel dip into the pot hole. Icky, brown, leftover rain-sludge flies backward from your front wheel and coats the legs and summer-white skirt of the girl. You turn your head to where you are driving and realize you are at your friends house. How embarrassing.

You pull over and get out of the car, hoping that the girl will just keep on walking and ignore the awkward situation. You are wrong. She stands at the front of your car and gives you a very, very dirty look. "Thanks for getting me with that puddle" she says icily. You stand there, speechless. You wonder what you should say. Will an apology suffice? Should you offer to give her money to pay for the cleaning bill? She's looking at you and pointing at her skirt. It is covered in ugly dark splotches, a glaring contrast to the otherwise pristine white of the fabric.

You stammer out a lame "Oh.. Sorry about that" and she stares at you like you've killed all the younglings. A moment passes and she turns on her heel and marches away from you. You think you're off the hook, but unbeknownst to you, she is cursing you out to all the gods of good grooming. You don't know it, but you will be getting an enormous zit in the middle of your forehead on your wedding day, an explosive and sudden gastrointestinal problem as you walk into your next job interview and boils. Lots and lots of boils.

If only you had appeared more repentant or at least made the gesture of offering to pay for cleaning you leering, letcherous, ham-fisted, pedestrian-splashing, puddle-crazy asshat.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Dirty Deeds" by AC/DC

HRH

New smaller waist...Same huge feet

I need shoes.

This doesn't make me any different from women all over the world. Like plants need sunlight, women need shoes. I need shoes beyond that primal lust that females feel walking past a window of pretty foot oriented bedazzlements. I need shoes because I have worn most of my shoes into the ground. I even have a modest sum of money set aside for this new footwear. Something for summer, something professional-ish, but still fun for a 28-year-old... Something that isn't totally ridiculous. A modest, yet stable heel... Something I can walk in, but that doesn't look too sensible. Am I asking for too much?

Not really. In fact I've found this shoe a couple of times now. I've held it in my (huge) hand and held my breath as I approached a salesperson to ask for my size, closed my eyes as I wait for the inevitable bad news..."No. We don't carry this shoe in your size."... "11? Are you kidding me?"... "Does it say Saskwatch Shoes on the sign out front?"

There are a few negative things about being the size that I am and I have made peace with most of it. There are so many positives. That said, I will never be able to buy cute hats because of my enormous head. I will never be a ballerina because they don't make ballet partners big enough to lift someone just shy of six feet tall. The same goes for swing dancing. But the shoe thing... It's just irritating. I have a couple of female friends who are taller than I am, with smaller feet! (Though I guess we all achieve a karmic balance when shopping for pants)

There must be a place in the world where big footed women like myself can shop without sadness. Where strappy sandals and pretty pumps flow from the shoe shops like milk and honey. It's a place where everyone is tall and they walk quickly. The streets are level and well maintained too.

Heaven in a place where every shoe is in stock, in your size and 50 per cent off.

Today's sing-a-long song: "The Other Shoe" by Eels

HRH

System restored

Tomorrow morning I return to work, ending a wonderful 5-day break. A break that I needed badly. I had gotten to the point where the signs of stress were showing up on my body. Hair falling out in clumps, breakouts a go-go (which were totally NOT aided by the Chanel cleanser and toner I started using. Moral of that story, if your eight-dollar Cetaphil cleanser, your Origins charcoal based mask and your Clinique oil-free moisturizer are doing it for you, don't switch!), twitching eyes and headaches (the amount of Advil I've gone through in the last two months, shameful). Good times all around.

But these five days have done wonders to reverse that.

The last 120 hours have been packed with so much awesomeness, that if it hadn't turned me around, then there would be no hope. But it has and I'm great. It all started with Episode III on Wednesday night and included shopping (and the discovery of Dawn as an amazing shopping buddy), gardening (photos to come), many walks/runs outside in the park (ahh vitamin D), spring cleaning (some surefire instant gratification), BBQ, a serving of very yummy ice cream, reading and sleeping. Oh so much sleeping.

I feel good. My house is clean, my pantry is full, my closet stocked with clothes that fit me properly (thank you Mum!), my computer free of a very, very vicious bit of spyware (thank you Mike) and my toenails freshly painted. I can handle the world again.

"Phew. For a minute there, I lost myself"

Today's sing-a-long song: "Karma Police" by Radiohead

HRH

Identity theft

Wha?

John Robertson sent me a link to this story today, thinking that it was, in fact, me being interviewed for this story, but I had given a false name (and age, but thank you for the compliment that I could pass for 22!). Oh no. It wasn't me. I imagine I was about 20 people back and good thing too. As Mike pointed out if she and I had come face to face the universe would have imploded.

My first reaction to reading about this girl, who appears to be me five years ago, was that I must hunt her down and give her a good what for, since she has clearly been pulling a fantastic Single White Female on me. Indeed I was all revved up to let my inner bitch run around the yard for awhile, but apparently "I'm better than that." Really, I'm not.

Okay I am. Part of me does think it's pretty cool that there are girls younger than me making some of the same choices and expressing what's meaningful to them in the same way. Sure I expressed myself that way nine years ago, but it's still just as meaningful to me today.

I guess it's just eerie and I suppose kind of cool. I hope that it's important to her like it is to me and that she feels proud of it, like I do. What I do know, is if she's my younger doppelganger, she's got some big shoes to fill, some great times ahead with some lessons to learn and she'd be smart to stick with that devastatingly attractive Czech guy.

Today's sing-along song: "Another Girl's Paradise" by Tori Amos

HRH

Turns out that the dark side... really dark

I will write a post about the experience of waiting in line for Episode III for eight hours at a later time. It was kind of fun and kind of exhausting. I'm glad I did it at least once. And I really, really, really want one of those Force FX light sabers. Like really.

There are so many reviews of the movie out there that I'm not going to bother with too much. I think the movie was good. There were the token cheesy/awkward prequel trilogy moments that most fans are going to rail on and that's fine, we can save those rant sessions for another day. Many questions were answered and many battles fought.

Did I like it? I'm not sure yet. I know that I wasn't disappointed with it. I think it was good. But I don't think I was prepared for how dark it was. People keep telling me not to despair too much about the fate of the galaxy as they've heard that it all works out in the end.

HRH

Update: I was walking downtown today, listening to some of the music from all the episodes of the saga and it hit me. Like Blammo. I was finally able to see past the gruesome elements of the movie that kind of stunned me and see the scope of the whole saga. I could see how it all fit together and how Episode III gives everything else so much depth. I called Mike on my cell exclaiming "I get it now and OH MY GOD!" and he was like "welcome to 12 hours ago."

Final conclusion. It was awesome.

Overplanning

The tickets are in my possession...



... and I have planned out my evening. At around 5:30 p.m. I will take my place in line for the midnight show. I will be armed with my ipod, gameboy, bottle of water and a salad. I will not be attired in costume. I may wear my Princess Leia T-shirt. Maybe. Hopefully at 5:30 I will have a decent place in line, holding it for seven others who will busy with attending concerts and generally having lives until they can join me. Mike has kindly offered to re-create the "Hi. Please don't talk to me." for the occasion. I may make a back up sticker like "Spoiler free, so please shut up" just in case.

Who knows, I may get caught up in the whole event and let go my misanthropic ways and talk to people in line. It's Episode III and like it or not I will be surrounded by my brethren. Hopefully looking in the mirror won't make me run screaming into traffic.

SO very excited.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Believe me Natalie" by The Killers

HRH

A beautiful day in the neighbourhood

Before the heavens decided to pour it's condensationy goodness down upon all that is green and growing today, M and I went for a walk on Roncesvalles and discovered that a lot of what we need is mere blocks from home.

I used to be able to get all my dry cleaning done through a service at work, but recently that became unavailable. I'm not from Toronto, so I don't know where all the good and/or bad places are. We set out to the centre of our hood today so see if this cleaner, so conveniently located by the streetcar stop I often use, was all that. Turns out, it is. Score!

Next I took M into a natural foods store I thought he would like because it was brimming with all that freaky Asian food he so enjoys making. M takes a lot more time than I do looking at things. I usually do a quick first pass, determine if there's anything good for me and move on. He carefully sifts and sorts all the information he gets. Normally this makes me a little crazy, but today it worked wonderfully as, thanks to his taking the time to look, we found that we can get a lot of the stuff we drive to buy in this store... for less. (and we can get more of M's crazy Asian food). Score again.

The discovery train continued at a store called "Dressers" where M found a great looking coat (affordable too!) and I found my new favourite brand of soaps. It's called Queen (select bath and then select Queen) and I love it to bits. I also love this store. Full of cute clothes, cute tea towels and many many fun soaps. Hatrick!

The finally discovery, and this was the pay dirt, was a butcher. There are lots and lots of butchers on Roncesvalles and if you're looking for anything done Polish style, then you're sorted. If you're looking for a good steak and a store that doesn't make you want to fall over because of the smell, well that's more challenging. We found one today. Great guy, great cuts of meat, no frightening sausages. We win!

And it only took us over a year to figure out that we have all this nearby.

Today's sing-a-long song: "The search is over" by Survivor

HRH

Really, what do you do with 20 inch guns?

When M and I were out shopping on Saturday, we made our way to a popular Yorkville denim store so that M could find some new jeans. And did he ever find jeans, and bless his heart, he bought the affordable ones. We sure do know where we can go to drop some coin should some come our way now.

Anyway, as M was trying on many pairs of pants, the men's section of the store was over-taken by a gaggle of loud (and I suspect a little drunk) men, who were all trying to help their friend buy a new T-shirt. The wealthy apparently shop in packs... really loud packs.

The guy trying to buy the shirt clearly worked out a lot. He was little shorter than I am, and had maybe enjoyed a needle or two worth of steroids. He was trying to find a shirt that fit both his upper and lower torso. A challenge as his upper torso was about 10 times bigger than is sensible for a human being. It was obvious that he put a lot of work into it. It was undeniable and had I been a blind person it would have been graciously pointed out to me by his friends who, at top volume, kept saying "Gotta show off those 20 inch guns!"

Being the only female near the change rooms they kept asking me for my opinion on his T-shirt choice. Oh the dilemma. A large would make him look like he couldn't dress himself, a medium was a decent choice, but didn't really hug the body in an ideal way and a small, well a small fit him well. So well that it would make him really popular with other men.

Now remember that his friends won't stop yammering on about his biceps, asking me if I've ever seen "guns that big" and "what did I think of guns like that" to which I responded that "they're rather frightening." You look at this guy and it's scary. A person doesn't work out like that to look fit. Those arms were like weapons and I prefer that men be armed with a superior wit rather than muscles that could crush my frame like a Boa Constrictor.

So when asked which size of shirt he should buy, I had no choice but to emphatically suggest that he get the small. I wanted him to be the toast of Church street, so I appealed to his ego and said "You work out for a reason, might as well show it off." He bought the small and the 20 minutes of listening to his friends blather about his arms was suddenly worth it.

Bless the lean boys and their sleek build. Boo to the muscle-bound steroid-junkies and their "guns."

Today's sing-a-long song: "Muscle Museum" by Muse

HRH

Weekend perfection

It could be the sunny spring weather or it could be the full agenda, but the past weekend was just wonderful.

It began with M and I waking up early on Saturday, totally naturally. We managed to pack the day full of shopping, shopping, more shopping, gardening, and BBQ preparation. I was even able to throw in a walk through the park, as I have to make sure I don't miss the cherry tree blossoms this year. M bought me a purse, that alone made it a red letter day.

Saturday night, we had a gaggle of close friends over for BBQ, conversation and poker. It seems that if more than four of us get together, a game of poker is not far behind. One of these days I will have to stop watching everyone else stress about the game and try one myself. However it seems that as everyone else gets better at poker, they also get more stringent about all the poker playing etiquette, so I'm either going to have to do a whole lot of research and practice before I join in, or rent a new group of friends to lean with and catch up to mine.

Today was lovely. I walked through the streets of my neighborhood on the way to the streetcar and marveled at the blossoming trees. What it is about greenery that gives me so much joy? I took the streetcar to meet Alasdair for a Jays game, which they lost by one run, but the weather and the conversation was fantastic. I think I absorbed enough vitamin D to make up for at least one month of winter. And when I got home from the game, I discovered that M had bought me some makeup. Two red letter days, back to back.

After calling my mother, to wish her a happy mother's day, M and I met his mother for a sushi-fest. So full, but so happy. And it's so wonderfully warm outside that I didn't need a coat and I could wear open toed heels. Bliss!

Man I wish tomorrow was a PA day. I can only hope that we can have class outside.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Beautiful Day" by U2

HRH

What I love about Holt Renfrew

Aside from all the wonderful things I want to buy there, the fact that every time I buy something from one of the cosmetics counters, I get a handwritten thank you note in the mail.

Damn right I'll be back for more products.

HRH

Things I can't handle

Losing Constantine on American Idol has been hard on the part of me that enjoys TV just a little too much. I told Matej this evening that if Tony and Michelle don't get back together by the end of this season of 24, I am unequivocally quitting TV.

The soap opera/romantic junkie gene is strong with me.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Faith" by George Michael

HRH

I'm SO happy!


Thank you for ordering tickets from MovieTickets.com!

Your Movie..: Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith
Showtime....: 12:01am Thursday, May 19th, 2005
Theater.....: Famous Players Paramount Theatre

Today's sing-a-long song: "Midnight Show" by The Killers

HRH