Like riding a bike, but with snow... and skis

The last time I went skiing, I was 18-years-old. It was a New Year's Eve trip with some of my classmates from highschool. It was at Mount St. Anne in La Belle Provence. It was a lot of fun, but it was the last time that I skied.

I love skiing. It has always been the best part of winter. Growing up I had lots of opportunities to ski some great mountains here in North America, thanks to my ski-loving family. Considering that we lived at least four hours away from a respectable ski hill, we did really well. Ski trips were always my favourite family trips too.

So it was a mystery to me why, after such positive experiences as a kid and teen that I hung up my skis for 14 years. Skiing isn't a cheap sport, so maybe that had something to do with it. Even stranger is that M had a similar upbringing that was ski-intensive and he too hadn't skied since his last year of highschool.

Last weekend we both remedied this by spending three days at Blue Mountain with our dear friends. Hills were skied, ski lifts were ridden, great company was shared and I found that skiing is like riding a bike; you never really forget how. And when you get back into it, you remember how great it is to be outside, to carve your way through the snow and how fantastically fun it is.

Welcome back to my world skiing. I was silly to have forgotten you for so long.

HRH

The Shape of Things to Come

Well hello there 2009. Aren't you looking tempting and fresh. All full of possibility and promise. And here I am, unrealized potential and waning neuroticsm. You and I, we can do cool things. New things. Great things. Even well-earned moments of nothing.

Cause you see, 2008 and I, we were all about doing things that scared me. Facing change, trying, overcoming insecurities, learning the subtle nuances of when to take control and when to let go. Realizing the power of sitting with things like sadness and discomfort, understanding that action is not always part of the solution. And we did a really good job setting up challenges and sorting out what the numerous successes and (thankfully) few failures meant.

2009, we're going to be about living a less hindered life. I'm still learning and still working on forgiving, but I'm good. Better than I've ever been and I'm just now seeing that.

I hope you're ready.

HRH

A thousand skeptic hands won't keep us from the things we plan

So it's beyond awesome that working in all things digital is actually my job now. A long-time goal realized for sure. And I'm loving it. Seriously loving it. But there has been one very tragic side effect: my personal online stuff is suffering and suffering badly.

Honestly, if it weren't for Twitter, the digital world might think that I've quit. But I haven't, I promise. I'm just so busy absorbing everything that's coming at me and trying to apply it to work. How I use it to communicate or market myself personally has taken a total backseat. And I know that's not a viable way to operate in the long-term. I really do. I wish I could clone myself right now to get movement on all the ideas I have.

I have a massive number of work projects to plow through before Christmas* and over the holiday break I'm hoping to complete the transition of TRW from blogger to wordpress, give it a shiny new skin and think about my editorial focus, as it were.

Or, you know, I might sleep and get healthy again.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Things Can Only Get Better" by Howard Jones**

HRH

*which I am totally on top of and totally behind on at the same time! Tree is up (photos to come), cards are sent, cookies baked and iced, list is made, but not ONE present purchased!!

**this song has been playing in almost every store I've walked into for the last three weeks. Just like how "The Never Ending Story" theme song followed me around Prague for about a year.

I'm super brain. That's how they made me.

During our respective vacations, M and I stayed in touch via SMS. I was really thankful that we could use it like we did, as it made the 10,000 km distance seem a little less epic. Having your thoughts reduced to 140 characters made for some interesting communication, especially when we were both getting into a different head space.

For me, going somewhere new and having time to think and relax was really helpful. Insightful conversation with Wendy helped a great deal too. I remember texting to M that I was sitting on a beach and reading. Finally reading and using my brain in a different way. And that it was really exciting for me. I guess that's what makes vacation so great. Getting out of your environment and using different pathways in your brain. Sometimes it can feel like you're actually thinking, versus running on autopilot.

Sadly, as I've been back for more than a week, I'm feeling that new cerebral state wash away. I don't want to lose it. I liked feeling creative and like I couldn't document my ideas fast enough.

In an effort to keep as much of that going I've got a couple of things planned. First, I'm going to try and find a book club. I know it will be hard because I want to read and discuss literature and books that interest me, and that's not the typical fare you see in book clubs. So that search is on.

My hope is that by reading more, I can keep thinking more. It's not that I never read when I'm not on vacation. I just never make the time for it.

Next, is blogging. It's really fallen off in the last year. I know exactly why, but that doesn't make it okay. I'm hoping to experience a blogging Renaissance, where I can approach it with the enthusiasm I had back in 2002. Over the years, while I've written a lot, I've said less. Blogging only about things that I would try to make above reproach. Which, while admirable, is also kind of wussy and uninteresting.

I'm not promising spectacular feats of intellectual writing. I'm just hoping that if I stimulate my brain a bit differently and make blogging a priority again then this new brain feeling will go from a once a year phenomenon to neural pathway to awesome.

If not, hopefully it will at least be amusing to read.

HRH

SoCal girl

I've been in California for about a day and a half and if I had my way I'd move everything I need from Toronto here. I mean, I love the east and the snow and all that, but seriously, it's awesome here. I never used to like the beach, but now I get it. I so get it.

It guess it doesn't hurt that I have the best host on the planet, who has been cooking for me, showing me all around the Newport Beach/Laguna Beach area, sitting out on the beach with me and, oh yeah, being the awesome that is Wendy.

I'm getting into this SoCal thing too. Wearing less makeup, getting really laid back and eating a lot of organic produce. I mean, it's all grown right here. It's like it's August in Canada, but all year long.

I'll post photos soon. I picked up a camera today (as my cameras at home both went terminal on me before I left) so hopefully I'll get that all working soon.

Until then, it's back to the beach for me.

HRH

Bikini small. Heel tall. She said she liked the ocean.

Um yeah. The crazy just doesn't stop around here. With five days of birthday celebrations and packing M for his trip to Prague (and that job thing; man is that thing a time sucker) I've been very much down with the busy.

And that all comes to an end tomorrow.



I suppose one has to have actually been to Cali to go back. Meh, details.

I'm taking off for a week of ocean side chillin', dancin' and singin' in Newport Beach with my dear Wendy. She has promised to hover over me and utter Americanisms while I sleep so that I can come back to Canada talkin' all American like. She's also promised to take me to Disneyland, feed me and take me surfing.

I am so easily bribed.

HRH

The age of exponents

I turn 32 tomorrow. I'm trying to amuse myself about it all by noting that you can also state my age as two to the power of five. Thinking of it this way, not only lets me say a smaller number when ask my age, but it also makes me look like an enormous nerd. Like almost legendary levels of nerd.

Things have been busy. Largely good busy, but so much so that I haven't had the usual time available to gripe and grouse about getting older. I came up with the mathematical revelation about 32 in March for someone else's 32nd birthday. Really, this has not been my best neurotic effort.

Or perhaps it's just not that big of a deal anymore? I don't really have that yearning need to have the world stop and reflect on the wonder that was my birth. I'm more in the zone of having a pint with some good friends and reflecting on the wonder that I pulled of another year without doing something epically stupid.

Yay me. :)

HRH

The joys of being sidelined

Summer weekends, when you have little to do, are a reminder of how therapeutic stillness can be. It works even better when there's little you can do because you started your weekend off in the emergency room with a torn open toe.

Yes. That was how Thursday started. After a lovely evening's walk on my own, I came home thinking of all the things I would clean and all the ways I would exercise on the long weekend. I had a few passive goals; fall asleep reading a book, watch an artsy DVD and get a bit of sun on my skin; but mostly I had walks, swims and dates with a mop and bucket in my four day plan.

Thankfully (?) I hurt my toe. it was a bloody mess that couldn't be stitched and may take awhile to heal, but the health care system did me proud getting me in and as treated as I could be in less than three hours. Pretty amazing for downtown Toronto on the Thursday before Caribana.

While this injury is really tender and annoying, I'm not feeling completely negative about it. It is going to make exercise, specifically dance classes something I'll have to assess on a case by case basis. And yes, that means that every morsel of food I eat will be under even more scrutiny since I can't just dance away my bad choices. But for the last four days, limited mobility has been just the intervention I needed.

On Friday, I just sat around with my foot elevated, watching art films. From time to time I would just doze off, listening to Jean Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg speak circles in French. M graciously did the errands for that day, made me an excellent steak dinner and I rested. Rested like I only rest on a Caribbean vacation. When I'm at home, if I can be doing something I will. But this was great because I really couldn't. The most high intensity work I did was reorganizing my toiletries shelf and finishing the ironing.

Saturday I hobbled to the car and met M's mother for lunch, had dinner with friends at Julie's Cuban and since I couldn't drive, I couldn't be the DD, even if I wanted to. I'm always happy to be the DD, but there was something pleasantly irresponsible about not doing it this time.

As my toe got getter and better, I ventured out for a walk on Sunday. Brunch and some pick up shopping on Roncy before a hard afternoon of napping. That night brought friends over for dinner, again with M doing most of the prep and cooking. I think we had at least a bottle of wine each, which meant that Monday was again spent horizontal.

I feel so rested. Sure my toe is still far form healed, as it started to bleed again on my way to work this morning, but I feel like I was really able to recuperate. Largely in thanks to my wonderful husband and less in thanks to my damaged toe.

HRH

Should I rewind?

I heard the new New Kids On The Block song Summertime last week. Because of work and social constraints I haven't had the time to sit down and give this song the attention it deserves.

Before I go on, I should state for the record that when I was 11/12, NKOTB was the sun that my world revolved around. My bedroom was plastered, from floor to ceiling in photos pulled from teenie-bopper magazines (My sister has a photo that she's holding onto for a prime blackmail opportunity of me sitting in the middle of my shrine, holding a photo of Donnie Whalberg, smiling an embarrassingly large smile at it all). I knew every breath of every song, knew every dance move and had the superlative moment of my 12-year-old life at their concert in Ottawa (which my very kind future blackmailer sister took me to). You know, just like every other girl at that time. :)

I'd like to be too cool for school here and be embarrassed of being part of that collectivist idolatry experience, but I am, in no way, ashamed. It was a hell of a lot of fun. Like Sapphire in Almost Famous said "To truly love some silly little piece of music, or some band, so much that it hurts." While NKOTB was in no way about loving the music, I was still very much in love. Love as a 12-year-old girl understands it.

Now that I've listened to Summertime about 100 times in the last week, I think the new song Summertime is brilliant. Not musically brilliant, but totally market savvy. NKOTB know that their fans have grown up. Many of them married with kids in their early 30s, working hard, lots of responsibility and lots of reality. Putting out a song teeming with nostalgia, set in the most carefree season of the year is very clever.

I know it appeals to me that way. There's a bit of horror in my heart as I've now joined that demographic that can be appealed to through nostalgia, but I'll forgive it. And not to suggest that I long for a different time in my life, cause life keeps getting better as I get older and there's no way I'd go back to adolescence, even if you paid me. But something about the song makes me feel like an ex-boyfriend from way, way back in the day got in touch to say "We weren't meant to be, but it was a great moment in my life." It was summer; it was carefree; it was all about fun.

So to the lads I once adored from Beantown; right back at you, boys! It was a good time and I commend you on coming back in a way that makes it a pleasure to reflect on the past without tainting those oh so precious memories. While thinking of those days doesn't make me crazy per say, it does give me an embarrassingly large smile.

HRH

Canned Heat in my Teeth

Gah! What happened? Where did the time go? So sorry. I take my eyes off the clock for a moment and more than half a month goes by without a blog post. And with so much going on! Bad blogger indeed.

Before I catch up on all the things I've been to busy to say, I must tell the world about the wonderful belated Christmas present I got from John and Timmi. Yes it came exactly five months after Christmas, but it was a true holiday delight.

What was it? A toothbrush that plays one of my favourite songs. Yes, a musical toothbrush. Sadly it came linked to a Napoleon Dynamite tie in, and we all know how I feel about that link. Still, it is a fantastic gift.



I find it particularly amusing that it gets louder as I press harder against my teeth. Also, as I find it basically impossible to stay still when Canned Heat comes on, toothbrushing time has gotten a smidge messier.

HRH

Update: I changed the title of this post from "Everything and Nothing" to "Canned Heat in my Teeth" at the suggestion of my beloved spouse, proving again why he writes headlines for a living.

:)

Matej: I like that your last two blog posts have been about makeup brushes and complex psychological issues.
Chelsea: I was just about to write one about body oil.
Matej: Perfect

HRH

Integration

After about three years of being apart, I have decided to bring all my blogging efforts back onto one blog. The reason for this is twofold. First, I'm not blogging enough on either one to justify two and second, I'm trying to be less fragmented.

So, those of you with RSS will notice about 100 posts coming into the feed today. Very sorry for that. But you can know that it's an annoying situation for me too, as I have to import each post one by one, often having to do word verification to publish. Word verification gives me stress. It's like a test I keep on failing and it does not favour the even remotely dyslexic. Good times. Good times indeed.

Anyway, in about 60 minutes from now, The Royal Beauty will be integrated into The Royal Word, which really makes more sense to me now. Cause you can't have Chelsea without the makeup.

HRH

Most fantastic RickRoll ever.

I'm coming out of hiding and "stuff" to share this with you.

As you were.

Slightly misplaced priorities

So four years to the day on Saturday March 15, M and I will bid adieu to our peppy black Mazda3. No, it's not symbolism. The lease is up. And after several months of debate and a new job for M, instead of financing this car out, we opted to lease a new one. Still a Mazda, still black, but this time a sexy MazdaSpeed3.




It looks basically the same from the outside, save bigger wheels, a bigger wing and a less ghetto antenna. What makes this car different from the old car is what's under the hood. A turbo-charged six-speed that goes zero to 60 faster than you can say "Chelsea got another speeding ticket. She'll soon exhaust the supply of charm she uses to get out of them."

It's also satellite-radio ready, has an input for ipods and a six-disc changer. Most excitingly for me, it also has a sub-woofer. In honour of this M and I have been diligently assembling our first uber-bass mega mix for the drive back from the dealer in Waterloo. (Apparently that's the place to get a good lease on a Mazda).

I'm pretty excited about this auto-upgrade, though there are a couple of things I wish the MazdaSpeed3 had, like a moon roof and heated seats. Oh how I love heated seats. One can get these things as options on the regular 3. But on the regular 3 you have 156 horsepower, on the Speed edition we've got an engine that produces 263 horsepower at 5500 rpm and 280 lb.-ft. of torque at 3000 rpm. I'm hoping that the heat coming off this puppy will be more than enough to keep my tail warm.

And yes Mummy, not only is it a faster car, it's also a much, much safer car. Big powerful brakes, 4-wheel ABS, emergency brake assist, dynamic stability control, front dual airbags, along with side and curtain airbags. None of which I'll need because I'll be driving very responsibly, obeying all speed limits and points of the Highway Safety Act.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Strict Machine" by Goldfrapp

HRH

And now we love eachother again

Turns out well focused rages gets you things. Like getting Facebook to allow your maiden name in your profile, no matter how inadvertently comical it may be. As much as I am still angry that their filters are set the way they are and that their database doesn't cross reference with currently active Facebook member names, I will give them credit for responding promptly and politely.

I use their service for free and as much as I may feel a sense of moral outrage about the name issue, they were under no real obligation to fix it for me. But they did and they did it quickly and kindly, in spite of taking an uncharacteristically mean complaint from me. So for that I love them again.

At last the Chelsea Gays and the Chelsea Novaks can be effectively socially networked. Now we can all live happily ever after.

HRH

What are you doing on Sunday?

Let me tell you. At about 8 p.m., if you're in the know and you know what's hip, you'll watch my esteemed friend Graeme represent for blogger-kind on CBC's Test The Nation.

8 p.m., CBC, Graeme. There is little else you need to know.

HRH

Sunlight in the land of shadow

I've been saying for days that it feels like I'm waking up in Mordor each morning. Yes, there's less of the barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust, the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume situation, but the unrelenting darkness and cloudy skies of late really make for a passable comparison.

I'm holding my own in the battle thus far. I still feel like always I'm on the verge of tears, but don't really manage to cry. I'm functional. Happy, hard to say. But functional. I know where the boundaries like for being in serious trouble and so far, I am not there.

And there is hope. Like this morning, when I got up and looked out the window, I could see sunlight. Yes it was still creeping it's way up from the east, but it was sunlight, not just a lighter shade of grey. And I found it easier to breathe. It's so strange, but it helped so much.

On the drive into work, making my way east down Lakeshore, I didn't even put down the sun visor in the car as I didn't want to loose sight of the light. It was worth squinting for. I didn't want to turn north, but eventually I had to. I walked around the street in the cold for ten minutes before going into my office building too, afraid that it would get cloudy at lunch (and it has).

I feel so improved by that little bit of sunlight that I might just start watching the weather radar to see where the clouds aren't this weekend and be a sun hunter.

HRH

A thought for the winter solstice

In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
--Albert Camus

HRH

The Iliotibial Band is playing at my house

Today I was confronted with an important choice. A choice that seriously tests my values. A true form versus function kind of deal. Because my chronic knee problems went from manageable to consistently gasp-inducing and mobility-impairing, I have returned to the kindly people who took my damaged back and made it all better to see if they can work some of their mojo on my loathed lower joints.

The absolutely wonderful news is that they can fix me. I just have to actually do what that trainer told me to do and teach my legs to work in a new and exciting way. An efficient one. I could go into the multi-factorial explanation of what's going on, excite you all with the mess I've gotten into with a tight sacroiliac (which I've learned is, like, a million times better than a loose one, though I really need to learn to let mine slide), bum muscles that wouldn't know how to fire even if they were given first chair on the firing squad, my new worst enemy and best friend the iliotibial tract (which apparently should slide over the quadriceps, but mine is actually stuck in some places, ew) and my quadriceps, which think that nothing can happen in my body without them flexing, which wouldn't be so bad if they would only do it in unison. Yes, if they did that, then my knees would actually slide into the track they're supposed to go on. That'd be keen and there'd be less swelling as a result I'll bet you.

A nice mess I am. But a mess that can be fixed through some hard work and, sadly, some sacrifice. It was more than gently suggested to me that my prognosis and long-term mobility would be dramatically improved if I stopped wearing high heels. I feel I must point out that I went to this physiotherapy appointment today wearing black, knee-high, three-inch, stiletto boots. Really, really pretty ones. Pretty ones I may not wear again.

I know, I know that high heels put so much pressure on my knees. They're also terrible for my hips and general posture. I know. I know. But my god I look fantastic in them. I have always been proud of the fact that I have worn high heels in spite of the fact that I'm tall. Clearly empowerment has it's costs.

I'll try not to whine about this too much and just get it out of my system now. Healthy joints are much more important than cute shoes. Even I know that it's a no brainer. I just don't need shopping for shoes to suck more. Not only do I have to find a size 11, but now it has to be of a sensible height. I don't know if anyone with normal sized feet can understand how hard it is to meet those criteria and actually wear a shoe that is attractive as well. *sniff*

Pity party over, it's a change I will make. I will do whatever I need to do to stay limber and mobile. I want to be able to run, jump and dance for as long as I can. Cute shoes just don't compare to how good those things make me feel. A least I can wear sneakers for hip hop.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Wake up call" by Maroon 5

HRH

Persona

Some people thrive on the spotlight and it's amazing to see them just turn it on. it goes beyond introvert and extrovert. I know incredibly shy people who become entirely different creatures the moment they hit the stage. There are also people who are always on. I am neither of those people. I am pretty much always me, all the time. This is why I am not an artist (I mean, there's also the talent and dedication thing, which I have a smattering of, but not enough to make it a career). There is nothing for me to turn on, as I have no switch.

Throughout my life I've had opportunities to perform. It's been a long time since I've been on a stage, but for awhile there, it was a pretty normal place for me to be. Of course, 95 per cent of my stage time was logged playing double bass, comfortably nestled within an orchestra of 80. I stopped playing the piano just as I was moving into the part of life when I was becoming really self-conscious. There is evidence of me performing alone, but I was too young to really get it.

There was one foray into acting, which I was told I was good at, but that was only because I was personally attached to the narrative, so it was more like retelling than pretending. Singing in a choir is fine. Singing on my own, anywhere other than the car or a karaoke bar can be a vomit-inducing experience and an unintentional, terror-driven vibrato. I've done it and survived, and in my mind, I'd love to do it, yet do I ever? No.

Dancing has always been in groups. And while I've never been particularly good at it, it's always brought me out of my shell more than anything else. And that's not particularly far. Even now, where I'm just taking classes at a gym, with no possibility of anyone outside of my classmates seeing me dance, I've taken to dabbling in a pre-class drink, just to chill me out. Dancing in clubs doesn't even count as it was always part of crowd in the dark. I hate to admit that I fall into the category of that "dance like no one is watching" life affirmation phrase, but I am compelled to admit that it would be nice if I could do that.

I mentioned this to a colleague who is a Belly Dancer and she suggested that I create a performing persona so that I don't have to have a drink before I go to dance class. She recently did that and it really freed her.

So I'm trying to craft a persona. One I can put on when I'm out in a club or in classes when I'm taking things way too seriously. For when people are watching. For fun. Really, it's why I play music or move. Maybe if I have a performer-like identity I can show people the fun that I have in my head. Oh the joys of a rich inner world.

It's not that I'm unhappy with who I am and what it is to be me. It's just that sometimes, who I am is tremendously practical, kind of shy and prone to caring too much about what people think. There have been times in my life where I've been uninhibited. As uninhibited as I get. And I think the persona should come from there.

I think she will wear more hats that I do.

HRH

You know this is true

I'm sure everyone has seen this by now, but it has to be posted to ensure that cat people far and wide can see it.



Meow indeed.

HRH

Must be whats best for me

Been really busy being social and more of that is to come. Still not sure about the hair yet. Not hating it, not loving it. Feeling rather beige about it all.

What I am loving is a band called Dragonette. M put me on to them last week. He always ends up finding the music I love the most. It's uncanny. Dragonette is Chelsea music for the days when I'm feeling bubbly. Dark, yet poppy. I Am X is for the days when I'm feeling dark and just dark.

It's all good music to listen to when you're wearing boots.

HRH

Drving it all home

There are so many reasons why going home to Kingston for the weekend is wonderful. Time with my parents, three days in kitty paradise for Zeus, birdwatching/feeding for M, my father's 52' plasma TV, Bubba's poutine for me, Wok In for M, boat trips, shopping tips, plane rides, my mother making me egg salad sandwiches, the comfort of being in the house I was raised in... many, many good things.

One of the things I used to do a lot back home was drive. I drive every day in Toronto, but it's really different driving. A lot more stressful. Kingston driving, it's roads, turns and lights I know like the back of my hand. In high school, being the DD, I would often take off for drives during parties that had become too stupid for me to bear and return in time to drive people home. Driving in and around town listening to music is growing up in a small town to me.

This past weekend my father was kind enough to let me drive his new Infinity G35X when I went out on my own for a shopping trip while M napped. It is a truly excellent car. The weather was warm, the streets were largely clear so I may have taken a few extra turns on my way there and back.

Timbaland's "Apologize" was on XM radio and I had one of those moments. The air was warm and clear, the sun starting to slip behind the trees, wind blowing in my hair, the car effortlessly carrying me down the road and around corners and, most importantly, a song that was helping me work through some of the issues I'd left behind in Toronto. I had a Zen moment. I usually only have them when I'm driving or walking. Only when I'm moving and always with music. Everything in my head clicks into place and I get it. It's not always the answer I'm hoping for, but I get it. And sometimes that's most of the battle for me.

This time it helped me get centred, since things have felt off kilter for the last month. I got home to my husband, my parents and my cat feeling a bit more restored, thankful and closer to being at peace. Remembering who you are and being with the ones you love, I daresay that's what going home is all about.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Apologize" by Timbaland featuring One Republic

HRH

The woman in the mirror

This past summer my grandmother moved out of her apartment and into retirement facility. She's 93, so really, she's more than proven that she could do it on her own. Living on your own can be a lot of work and it was becoming a bit much for her, so after a bout of sickness this summer, she and my mother decided that it was time for the move.

When she moved out of the big farm house and into her apartment years back, she and my mother did a huge purge of stuff. I remember playing in that house as a child and it was enormous. Every room furnished and full of a lifetime of stuff. With this most recent move there was an additional scaling back of belongings. Which means some of the family treasures are starting to make their way to me.

My Nana passed away just over seven years ago. When I moved back to Canada my parents let me take some of her sterling sliver. I find polishing it tremendously therapeutic, and, unfortunately, because of a long protracted illness, I never really knew my Nana that well, so having some of her things is rather meaningful to me. Two of those sterling silver items were a brush and mirror set my Nana was given as a wedding present.

As a little girl, playing in my Grandmother's house I was always fascinated by her ivory brush and mirror set and she promised me that one day I would have them. And that day was today. I now have a brush and mirror set from both Grandmothers. Though from what my research is telling me, cleaning ivory will be no where near as fun as cleaning sterling silver.

It also makes me wonder, will my still theoretical granddaughters treasure my Mason Pearson brush this much?

HRH

Cute, little birthday things

Even though M and are I seemingly part of an experiment in sleep deprivation, we stayed up until midnight last night so he could wish me a happy birthday and give me my present. So awesome and so sweet, but once I had my present in my hands, I furthered the depths of my fatigue by staying up another hour or so playing with it. My new toy? A brand, spankin' new black ipod nano.

Happy birthday indeed. :)

HRH

Work It Harder, Make It Better, Do It Faster, Makes Us Stronger, More Than Ever, Hour After, Our Work Is Never Over: Um, where has September gone?

Like, seriously, can anyone tell me where the last 10 days went? Sure, sure there was Jenn and Lyle's lovely wedding on the 15th, nine hours of dance/pilates classes last week and six hours this week, a dear friend locked in a battle with evil, an increasingly full and interesting set of tasks at work that I seriously want to kick ass at, a couple hours of de-thorning and de-leafing roses for Chris & Tash's wedding this weekend, realizing that I hadn't gotten my dress actually pressed for Chris & Tash's wedding this weekend and a subsequent lunch-time visit to the cleaners, several birthdays and a few hours of sleep here and there.

I can't imagine where I've lost all that time.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Stonger" by Kanye West

HRH

Marriage: year one

Our first year of marriage has been bookended by fire alarms.

At our wedding last year, just a we had finished dinner, our MC Wendy was about to take to the mic to start the speaking portion of the evening when a fire alarm went off. There was another wedding at the inn that night and one of their table cloths had gone up in flames. The dutiful Canadians in the crowd all got up and went outside in an orderly manner, while the Czechs and Americans sat out the fire alarm inside, something we all found awfully amusing. It was the true Canadian obedience I'd told Wendy about in action.

The tablecloth was eventually subdued and we were all allowed back into the inn after an impeccably timed after dinner 7th inning stretch. I was actually kind of pleased about it because it meant that I actually had an opportunity to wear my veil as a wrap.

Just 30 minutes ago, a year to the day we got married, we were jolted out of bed for a real fire alarm as one of the tenants in the basement had left some pasta sauce on the stove and fallen asleep. All was remedied, but as we got back into the house and got settled, M commented to me "I guess it's all about fire alarms with us."

We're new to the concept of anniversaries. When we got together in 1998, things were a little blurry and complicated so we've never really had a date to mark the relationship with. There were all these new things to sort out. Do we celebrate on the actually anniversary day (yes) or the nearest weekend (no)? Are we doing gifts (yes)? There were details to sort out. Apparently it's been solidified that it has to involve a fire alarm in some manner.

Which is definitely one way to get your heart pounding and make you take notice of an important event. Not that I need help in making my heart go pitter-patter when I think of M.

Being a newlywed was great and I think we've started this marriage off in a wonderful way. The whole matrimonial experience has been more than I'd imagined it could be. But to be honest, as cool as it's been so far, I'm almost more excited about what's come in the future. Even if it means always having a fire extinguisher near by.



Today's sing-a-long song: "Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service

HRH

Summer season summary

I was really desperate for a good weekend. Which is odd, because this summer has been brimming with good times and good weekends. I guess it's further evidence of my greed, but I really wanted Labour Day weekend to be proper end to summer. It didn't need to be glamorous.

I had some goals for the weekend. The primary goal was rest. Sleep, naps and lots of it. I had some truly spectacular sleeps in the last three days. This meant that typical schedules were sent out the window. Sure we did our food shopping at 8 p.m. on a Saturday and made a red curry for dinner around 11, but when you get up a 11:30 a.m., that's not so strange.

We've been so busy this summer that we've both really missed cooking. This weekend really got us back into cooking mode. We made all but one meal this weekend at home.

I also wanted to make sure that we got outside as well. I took a couple of walks down to the waterfront and over to Roncy to see who else had stayed in town for the weekend. On Sunday night, we gathered up Graeme and took in the wonders of the CNE. Graeme's company is always welcome, but this particular evening it was wonderful because I had someone to go on rides with me. Love M as I do, he is not much of an adrenaline junkie. It doesn't sound like fun, but having your body thrown around, feeling negative and positive G's and having to scream so that you don't throw up, well that's my idea of an awesome time.

Another goal was spending time with M. Check and yay!

Spending time with friends was also on my list. We spent today with Graeme, Tash and Chris. We made them all brunch and then watched the CNE airshow from our balcony (Okay, the F-22 is a freaking enormous plane) and played some pretty cutthroat board games.

The only things I'd wanted to do this weekend that didn't happen were getting ice cream from The Film Buff and going for a swim at Gus Ryder pool before it closes for the season.

So all in all, I'm pretty pleased. The weekend and really, the whole summer was great.

HRH

Now isn't that nice

With time winding down on my current job there have been a number of "hey, you're leaving us" type events. I'm a total spaz when it comes to things like this and I make it really difficult for people to do nice things for me. I don't know why. As much as my self loathing thing has improved it just makes me all stupid.

And I think people have figured this out and have simply resorted to surprising me with things of this nature. To this end, I was given the gorgeous arrangement of flowers you see above and was treated to some fantastically kind words from a VP who's been nothing but great to me over the years. I almost cried and was appropriately mocked for it.

Honestly though I was really touched by it all and felt really honoured to be recognized in that way. The simplest gestures make life so sweet sometimes.

I'm still feeling wonderful from it all and the house, well it smells tropically fantastic.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Let me blow ya mind" by Eve

HRH

Off to new pastures, hopefully green

After what has seemed like months of meetings and negotiations I can now safely say that I have a new job. Not that I talk much about work here, and that's not going to change, but it's something important going on in my life, so let's share.

I've been at my current job for almost four years. It's been amazing and educational, but there came a point where I'd learned what I could learn. It was time to move on. But here's the tricky part. I didn't want to leave the organization I work for. Despite it's idiosyncrasies, I am fundamentally fond it. Turns out, so are other people, and as a result there's not a huge amount of room for upward advancement in my area.

I applied at other places but the fit never seemed right and then in early July, an opportunity presented itself internally. The best of all possible options and, typically enough, one I'd never even considered.

I'm not super-awesome with change, so it took me some time to wrap my head around it and I now that I have, I'm really, really excited about what I'm going to be doing. Most importantly, I'm going to be learning a lot of new things and jumping feet first into something new.

So like I'm starting a new school year, I start my new job on September 4. I don't have a date set yet for world domination.

HRH

Outstanding indeed

From this year's Emmy nominations

Outstanding Original Music And Lyrics

Family Guy • Peter's Two Dads • Fox • Fuzzy Door Productions in association with Fox TV Animation
Walter Murphy, Music
Danny Smith, Lyrics

MADtv • 1209 • Fox • Girl Group Co.
Bruce McCoy, Lyricist
Greg O'Connor, Music Composer
Jim Wise, Composer/Lyricist

Saturday Night Live • Host: Justin Timberlake - Song title: "Dick In A Box" • NBC • SNL Studios in association with NBC Studios and Broadway Video
Katreese Barnes, Music By
Andy Samberg, Lyrics By
Akiva Schaffer, Lyrics By
Jorma Taccone, Music & Lyrics By
Asa Taccone, Music By
Justin Timberlake, Music & Lyrics By

Scrubs • My Musical: Song Title: "Everyting Comes Down to Poo" • NBC • ABC Studios
Debra Fordham, Lyrics by
Robert Lopez, Lyrics by, Music by
Jeff Marx, Lyrics by, Music by

Scrubs • My Musical - Song Title: "Guy Love" • NBC • ABC Studios
Paul F, Lyrics by, Music by
Debra Fordham, Lyrics by

As much as I adored "Guy Love", I'm really cheering for DIAB. Oh I SO hope it wins.

Today's sing-a-long song: That should be obvious.

HRH

Back to Bass-ics

Last night, after more than a month of repairs, I picked up my beloved double bass, Dee, from the shop. That's correct, my double bass has a name and if you're really clever you'll know that it's named after a basketball player. It's back in playing order with a new bridge, new strings and a wonderful new end pin. I even got a new case for it, as I'd been using the same case it came in 17 years ago.

It may have been folly to attempt 30 minutes of practice after a seven year hiatus from the instrument, especially since I did not one, but two classes at the gym today, but I couldn't help myself. My double bass has been such a source of joy for me and to have it back in working order, it's just so good.

Yes, I suck at it right now, but there's a lot of muscle memory there. My plan is to work my way beyond the level of skill I had back in 2000, cause I've always believed that I had the potential to be a much better bass player than I was but there were boys and parties and a myriad of excuses not to practice. So I'm going to work my way through my technique book and apply the practice principles Mrs. Wood taught me back in the day when I kind of kicked ass at the piano. Five times perfectly with no stop-prepares. This will come as a life-threatening shock to my mother, but I may even purchase a metronome.

It's going to take time and it's going to hurt. I can already feel the fine muscles in my left hand aching from being in position again and I'm going to have to get my callouses back, but it's all so worth it.

Picking it up, I even got to have a "Yes I do play the double bass" moment when I left the store. There's a particular look of wonder and/or bewilderment people get when the see me carrying my double bass around. I guess the juxtaposition of someone like me playing or even carrying something like a double bass turns heads. And I'll be honest with you, I totally enjoy that.

Today's play-along-song: "L'Elephant" by Saint-Saens*

HRH

*I was totally going to walk down the aisle to this song, but figured that one day telling my grandchildren that the processional for my wedding was "Clair de Lune" (Moonlight) by Debussy would endure better than The Elephant. Especially if I get really fat one day. Also "Clair de Lune" means a great deal to M and I, so sorry Saint-Saens.

Five years, 1K

The day I started this blog it was oppressively hot. I was in my office in Prague, looking for a good way to procrastinate with a writing assignment and I'd started to read Mike's blog and I was instantly in love with the idea. Writing like this wasn't hard because it was just what I had going on in my head.

It's opressively hot today too and I'm working. Or more accurately, I'm procrastinating with a writing assignment. Somethings will always be constant.

I've been reading through a lot of old posts, going on a bit of an emotional roller coaster. There's a lot captured there and a lot going on between the lines. A whole helluva lotta laughs.

I've watched bloggers come and go. Learned through mistakes of theirs and mistakes of my own. I've had the pleasure of seeing how funny and articulate my friends are as they've started blogs of their own and have subsequently felt so much closer to people who are oceans away.

A lot of what I've written here has just been my world. It's been mostly fun to share it and it's been very positive for me in all kinds of stomach churning personal growth kinds of ways. I've done a lot of confessing here. I think I've outed most of my deepest insecurities, partly in an attempt to call myself out on what I suck at before anyone else gets a chance to.

There's nothing especially profound to say about it. I'm not about making predictions about the popularity of the format or the strength of the blogging movement. 1000 posts, five years, and that's not counting the other blog side projects . I'm pretty proud of what I've put down here.

So thanks to everyone who's read this over the years. It's been an amazing experience sharing so much with you. I've thought about retiring from the blogsphere, as milestones are always convenient for that kind of thing, but I think I still have more to say, more to see and more to do. So I'll just raise a Kir Royale, savour the moment a tad and continue with regularly scheduled programming.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Millennium" by Robbie Williams

HRH (Chelsea)

Bass solo!

One of the great things about my school years was my constant involvement in music. From my first days in school in a choir to the university orchestra it was always something I was involved in and a wholly positive force in my life. Moving overseas meant that my musical life would have to go on hiatus as it's really expensive moving a double bass across an ocean. The school where I taught English had a piano in the teacher's lounge, but I had't been good at the piano for a decade at the time I was there.

I moved home almost four years ago, so one would think that I would have jumped right back into the music world upon my return. I didn't. And that was a mistake. But I took steps to rectify that error today.

M wanted to go to Long and McQuade today to take advantage of their free guitar string set up thingy today. Apparently you take in your guitar, but new strings and they set them up for you for free. Very nice. My mother has been on my every time I start grousing about missing music to take my double bass in and find out how much it will cost to get it back into playing shape. So I did that today. I don't yet know how much it will cost to replace the bridge (this was the second bridge that I've killed in my 19 year double bass career), fix the end pin, check that the sound post is still in a good way and replace the evil high tension strings that killed two bridges and my end pin, but the important thing is that I'm taking the right steps.

I had a nice little flashback to my younger days when a whole bunch of people offered to carry my double bass up the stairs to the classical insutrument store and I said "No thanks. I can do it. You have to be able to carry it to be able to play it." Once I made it to the top (walking up backwards is the easiest way) a female staff member said to me "It's so awesome to see a woman who can really carry her double bass." To which I wanted to say "You should see me play it." but it's been seven years since I've played it for real, so I just smiled.

While I was in there I found out that there are some orchestras in and around the GTA looking for double bass players and was told by the staff that once my double bass is repaired that I should get my chops up to snuff and audition. Which I totally am going to do. I don't really care how far I have to travel to play or how much I have to practice. I just want to get back into it.

Further to that end M and I also started looking at keyboards. Maybe if we both have favourable reviews this year it might be something to invest in. Or if anyone happens to find a spare grand lying around just let me know. ;)

We're both musically inclined, but since music isn't part of our current careers, we're out of touch. There are some pretty good keyboards out there that have a decent kay action and you can plug your ibook right into them and get your garage band on. That's something that's totally insane to me, since my concept of performing or creating music is strictly acoustic and analog.

M isn't tied to all of that since he plays electric bass. Since I've known him he's been lusting after a particular electric bass: The Gibson Thunderbird. If you follow the link you'll see that it's the bass that Nikki Sixx plays. If I were a Motely Crue fan that might mean more to me. All I know is that it's very pretty and it has a beautiful deep tone to it. As the salesman at the store said "It has a really dark sound" to which M said "yeah, that works for me."

So after years and years of him pointing this bass out to me in music videos and talking about this bass that he wants, the stars aligned. M took in his current 5-string bass, sold it, did some wheeling and dealing and got the Epiphone version of the Gibson bass. If you're so inclined you can learn about the types of Thunderbird bass guitar on Wikipedia. All I know if that he's a very happy man now.

And I, hopefully, will get my double bass back and be a very happy woman too.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Double Bass" by Gorillaz

HRH

It's the cow time of year

It's spring time and everyone is talking about their barbecues. Rightly so, for they are one of the culinary marvels of the world with the charred flavours bringing us back to our evolutionary roots when the fire changed everything. I'm pretty sure that when Prometheus gave fire to mortals, he did it to share the wonders of barbecue with humanity.

Barbecue season is especially sweet for me because it makes it that much easier for me to eat beef. Throughout the winter I make beef stew and chili at least once a week. Barbecue season usually kicks my consumption up to three or four times in a week and things are good. Oh so very good.

I try to eat as much beef as I can. I know that's a very strange thing to say in this vegan-organic-green era as most people are reducing their red meat consumption and apparently being insufferably better people for it. Me, I'm always looking for more.

It's not just because cow is the yummiest of all the animals that I eat it so much. It's a BIG reason, but not the only one. Cow the best way I've found to deal with being anemic. Before you start with the "just take a supplement" argument, I must let you know that I take 100mg of elemental iron a day and I am just barely passing my serum iron and ferritin tests. Just to put that in context, pregnant women are recommended 30mg daily to prevent the development of iron-deficiency anemia. The average person, 18mg. My dietican wants to bump me up to 200mg a day and I challenge anyone to take that much iron without heaving. I just do not absorb iron well.

Doctor after doctor, scientist after scientist have told me the same thing, that the most effective for me to absorb iron is through eating red meat. And that suits me just fine. Beef is a much tastier package for iron than pills are. Plus, I'm a proud carnivore and my personal health situation makes it that much more fun to thumb my nose at vegans. I realize I'm coming down on them quite a lot. I've Just been through a serious attack of the preachy vegans and I'm a tad touchy about it all.

So it's beef season then. Cows be warned, I'm out for iron and I'm hungry.

HRH

By the numbers

Next month by blog will turn five years old. If it were a child it would be heading to kindergarden in the fall . It would be as old as my sister was when I was born. If it had been $100 put in a high-yield savings account, I still wouln't be able to do the math. Five years. And looking at the math I can do, if I can make 22 posts before June 17, my fifth bloggerversary, I will hit 1000 posts.

Seems like the planets are aligning.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Five long years" by Colin James

HRH

My daemon

I haven't been this excited about a movie in quite a long time. I'm reading His Dark Materials again just to be ready. Here's hoping they don't mess up The Golden Compass too much. No matter what they do, it should be a feast for the eyes.

In the meantime, is it any shock that my daemon is a cat? And even less shocking, M is a crow.



HRH

A series of good starts

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that as time passes I keep growing up. It just some days, the growth doesn't seem gradual, it's shocking and apparent. Take this past Friday. I started my first RRSP. Admittedly, this is something I've been intending to do for about eight years but I always talked myself out of doing it. I find all things banking and finance intimidating, but I also have to do all things on my own terms. Sure it may have been more prudent to get it all sorted sooner, but I've done it my way, which means a lot to me. So I'm saving for my future, saving for a house one day, feeling pretty in control of things.

And I'm not the only one in our house experiencing new things. M has started running with me. For those who don't know my husband well, he is one of those loathable people who can eat anything and everything and not gain weight. He just has that kind of metabolism. I just don't. I have to exercise at least 3 times a week and keep the dietary cheating to a minimum just to save off the fatness. I'm supposed to be losing weight right now and just can't stop eating everything I shouldn't be.

While he has the ability to burn calories by thinking big thoughts, I can walk up a flight of stairs and not get winded. And it's one thing to look healthy and an entirely other thing to be healthy. So I was very happy when M took me up on my long standing offer to exercise with him. Just because he hasn't had to exercise, it doesn't mean that he hasn't wanted to, on some level. We started yesterday by doing some running in intervals in the park. He did pretty well except for calling me a "sadist" at one point. Even more impressive than his first effort is the fact that he's going to let me take him out running again!

In the course of two days we've become a married couple that jogs together and has retirement savings. I feel like I should do something reckless and immature just to keep everything in check.

Today's sing-a-long song: "All grown up" by Elvis Costello

HRH

Catching up, keeping cool

M and I have been on vacation since Wednesday. We're in Kingston, taking care of 50 pounds of cat (two 20-pound Norwegian Forest Cats and one 10-pound Zeus) and trying to stay warm. We came here to kitty sit while my parents took off on a nice little spring vacation. Our thinking was that we would take this time away from Toronto to go for walks, take lots of photos and I was going to teach M how to run. We thought since spring would be here, it would be the perfect time to get outside.

Needless to say our plans were seriously derailed by all the snow and wind that passed its way through this part of Canada in the last five days. Bird watching was relegated to looking at all the fowl through the windows, and walking, or even running? Humourous.

The weather has been miserable. However, when you're stuck inside, my parent's house is a great place to be and with the company of my favourite person and my favourite cats, it's been a nice break. The crappy weather has meant that M and I have been able to sleep/nap as much as we need to and watch all kinds of movies, TV and DVDs without feeling like we really should be outside.

I had plans to use this time to become physically renewed for spring, but instead I think I've managed to rest away that napping problem I was developing, at at the same time be entertained by some great movies and TV.

We're almost half way through season two of Twin Peaks, which has been more than a treat to watch, esp. here at my parents house, which is surrounded by trees. To be fair, watching it on a 52" plasma TV with a fantastic 5.1 system doesn't hurt the experience either.

To balance out my David Lynch obsession, we've also been watching a lot of Law & Order for M. When we watch a lot of this show we invariably get talking about what our dream team Law & Order team would be. For me, it would be Arthur Branch (Fred Dalton Thompson) as DA, Jack McCoy (Sam Waterson) as Senior Prosecutor, Abbie Carmichael (Angie Harmon) as ADA, Anita Van Buren (S. Epatha Merkerson) as Lieutenant and Lennie Briscoe (Jerry Orbach) and Ed Green (Jesse L. Martin) as detectives. I almost could have had it if Angie Harmon had stuck around for just one more season. Imagine Jack as the moderate. He he.

Our break ends on Tuesday when we have to return to Toronto and the real world. It's been a nice break. Chris and Tash dropped by on their way to and from Ottawa, enabling us to raise a glass of bubbly in honour of Natasha's birthday last Thursday. Hopefully tomorrow the weather will be nice enough for us to get out for a little day trip and get home in time to watch "24" in HD. I hope there are a lot of explosions this week.

HRH

Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand

Today is a bit of a sad day for me. My six week dance class comes to an end. I have had just a ridiculous amount of fun doing this. I've also been consistently sore (seriously, how much does a person have to work out to stop feeling stiff all the time!), but I just can't bring myself to care.

It's really taken over my mind in a lot of ways. I've found myself dancing in streetcar vestibules in the morning when there's no one else around. I've been dancing in the washroom at work (mirrors are so handy), dancing at home if I'm alone and listening to this Ciara/Chamillionare song so much that I've actually gone from actively hating Chamillionare to a state of general apathy. Scary stuff.

Of course, loving an MTV dance class still doesn't explain why I can't stop listening to the Justin Timberlake CD. If you listen really hard you can hear 21-year-old me weeping somewhere because of that last line.

Anyway, dancing = good. I may never be great at it, but it's so much fun that I find it hard to care.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Tiny Dancer" by Elton John

HRH

40 years of evil

I am trying to write this post with a cat sitting on my wrists. A seriously shedding cat I might add.

I feel that I should report on the goodness that was this past weekend. M, Mike and I made our way to Kingston to celebrate 40 years of Golden Words. There was drinking, more drinking, a burnt throat earned through me not being patient enough to wait for my poutine to cool and many good times with friends not often seen.

My expectations for the event were totally exceeded. The current GW staff gives me much confidence that the paper remains in nice, evil hands.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Hey boy, hey girl" by The Chemical Brothers

HRH

Confession

I have a new Internet addiction, which isn't actually new at all. I'm just fessing up. I can't get enough of PopSugar. I first found it as a gossip site, but it has turned into so much more. PopSugar is just one part of what I will call the SugarEmpire. Like many sites it collects links, advice and ideas. What I love about it is the content and the way that it's organized. It starts with gossip, when then you have FabSugar for fashion and makeup, BuzzSugar for entertainment (music, TV and movies), YumSugar for cooking, baking and entertaining, FitSugar for health and fitness, GeekSugar for tech, GiggleSugar for humour and DearSugar for advice. It's pretty much all the stuff I'm interested in, put together and written in a way that I really connect to.

There's a whole community beneath the articles that I'm just starting to get into. Between this, Facebook and this very blog, it's amazing I even talk to people anymore.

HRH

Just one more song

Last night, M, Beltzner, Dawn and I attended the wedding of our undergrad partner in crime, Jon Krashinsky. Jon is one of those characters who leaves an indelible impression on you. He is just so fantastically alive and that delicious mix of mischievous yet inherently good. While our paths have crossed occasionally over the last eight years, it's as though it's only been a few days since we were last together.

It was really wonderful to see him so happy yesterday and to see how totally head-over-heels in love he is with his wife, Kelly. He's found the best thing ever, the thing that I wish for everyone in their relationships; someone who you can really be yourself with and be loved for it.

While his wedding was a great chance to spend a couple of moments with him, it was also a gathering of other friends from Golden Words. Kind of a warm up party for the 40-year reunion next weekend in Kingston. I don't know what it is about that time in my life or what it is about the people that were part of GW while I was there, but that bond, it's just awesome.

There was a moment while Matt Blair was DJing and he kept on playing songs we danced to night after night at the Trash, that I felt kind of like I was 21 again. Let's just ignore the horrible old lady implications of that remark and bask in that feeling a little.

I know that life then wasn't ALL about laughing at Press Nite (TM) and getting lost in the music at a club. There was drama, lots of it and stress too, but it was different. Not better, just different. I don't know. For me the day I really committed to the paper life started its uphill trajectory. I'll always feel fondly for the beginning of the really good.

Dancing to the songs that are now considered retro (ouch!) and having M, Mike, Dawn, Jon, Blake and Matt there to party with was the perfect slice of nostalgia that I needed to prepare me for next weekend. And not to sound like too much of a lame oldie, but for a bunch of 30-year-olds, we've still got it.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Hey boy, Hey girl" by The Chemical Brothers

HRH

Evolving into an adult

Today was a very exciting day in my life. It was the first time that M and I had guests over to our current apartment for dinner and we were all able to sit at a table and eat like civilized human beings.

Living in a attic apartment creates all kinds of design challenges. The biggest of which has been finding a kitchen table that more than two people can sit at. Inspired by the success that Dooce had in finding a dresser on ebay, I decided to see if I could find a modern kitchen table. Just to get an idea of what was out there. Lo and behold when I typed in "modern kitchen table" I got a table and chair set, inspired or knocked off from the Harry Bertoia wire chair design. It looked perfect.



The glass table would give us a space to eat on, but wouldn't eat up all the visual space in the room, same effect with the wire chairs. Best of all, the seller was based in Toronto and offering local pickup only. Oh and the price. While this was a knock-off, it still would retail for up to $2000. The seller got it for half of that and we got it off the seller for more than half of what he paid. Super score.

After we bought it on ebay, M and Mike drove out there in two cars and collected it for us. Sadly, because life has been crazy, but good busy, we haven't had a chance to actually sit down at our mid-century modern table and see how it works.

So this evening we had Dawn and Chris over for dinner (as their spouses are both out of town), saved them from another night of toast for dinner and had them test everything out.

I am proud to report that the test was a success and, to make it even better, I got to use many of the plates and dining accessories we got from the wedding in the way in which they were intended. On a table, looking lovely.

More and more this house is starting to look like actual adults live in it. It's all rather cool.

Today's sing-a-long song: "When I grow up" by Garbage

HRH

Air Guitar Nation

I come to charge you with some tasks. First watch the trailer for this movie: Air Guitar Nation. M and I were guests of Maple pictures this evening for one of the first screenings of this documentary in Canada.

If you love rock music, heck even if you don't love rock music and you have at least one funny bone in your body you HAVE to see this movie. I believe it goes into wide release in Canada on March 22. Until it is out again to be seen, I will be biding my time listening to endless guitar solos and possible attending the Canadian Air Guitar championships next Thursday at El Mocambo. Freaking awesome.

*throws up the horns*

Today's sing-a-long song: "Jukebox Hero" by Foreigner

HRH

Falling apart in half time

This evening I started one of my "holy crap depression sucks, let's be done with it" projects. I haven't actually been depressed since the end of January, but I'd made these plans then, so it seemed like a good idea to stick with them.

So I just finished my first MTV Choreography class. One hour of very fast, bootie-tacular moving. I'm actually pretty pleased with myself. Not only did the instructor (who is completely wonderful) call me out for doing a couple of moves especially well(yay!), but by the end of the class I was doing a sequence of moves I was sure I would never figure out.

Like a good type A I have already downloaded the song we're learning our routine to so I can practice in private moments I steal away. I should really just be continually enrolled in dance classes of some kind because dancing and learning routines makes me ridiculously happy.

They also make me kind of sore, but that's just age and being out of practice.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Get up" by Ciara

HRH

The owls won't see us in here

On Sunday I decided that action would be the best solution for fighting off the SAD. SO while M was out freezing his tail off looking for owls, I threw on season 1 of Twin Peaks (saw some owls of my own - the owls are not what they seem) and painted a nature scene on the canvas that as sat blank in my living room for the last three years.

(Aside: Every time I watch Twin Peaks it strikes me just how much I completely adored that show and what an indelible impact it made on me)

I then baked a pie for the first time in my life. From scratch. Crust, everything. It was a pumpkin pie. My family's much renowned pumpkin pie recipe, hand written out for me by my grandmother. And while I ended up making the crust twice because I rolled out the first one too much and because I didn't have powdered ginger or powdered cloves and instead used whole ones (doh), it wasn't perfect. The crust was really good, but the filling wasn't quite right. Edible, yes, but not amazing.

Still painting and baking are much healthier uses of my weekend time than sitting on the couch feeling crappy. And maybe, with practice, I will one day be able to make a pie that will be worthy of a place in pie heaven with the ones from the Double R diner.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Dance of the dream man" by Angelo Badalamenti

HRH

Bounce back

I thought I was slipping back into woe, but it turned out to just be a 24 hour stomach bug. Vomitatious, but phew.

HRH

She's happy as can be, you know, she said so.

Here's a new and exciting twist. I actually feel good today. I'm going to feel like a big silly head if it turns out that all I needed to do to feel better was the laundry.

Today's sing-a-long song: "I feel fine" by The Beatles

HRH

Very Victoria

When M and I were in Italy and we had collapsed in our hotel rooms for the evening, we would watch at LOT of MTV Italia. We're video junkies and our Italian being as pitiful as it was, MTV was one of the stations we could kind of comprehend.

Every night at 9 there was this show on called Very Victoria where this very cute Italian woman named Victoria Cabello, who has a most-awesome Wiki entry, would interview Italian celebrities. There would also be the requisite silly gags and risque segments involving people in their underwear that you can only see on TV in Europe or maybe also in Quebec.

Anyway, she was cute and well dressed. Her set looked like it had jumped out of Moulin Rouge and she was a very un-bimbo like TV presenter. A complete and total rarity of modern Europe.

We watched a lot of this show, even though we had NO idea what was going on. I was always mesmerized by the opening dance sequence. First because of the clothes and shoes and second because of the charmingly bad dancing. Every time I see it I am tempted to change the shape of my bangs.



Today's sing-a-long song: "Ruby Blue" by Roisin Murphy

HRH

Mental mash-up

I'm not sure what's up with my head these days. Chose your instability factor, insomnia, boredom, SAD, PMS, general neuroticism, and I think it's factoring into my mental processing these days. The only way to stave off the ill effects is denial through entertainment. Just stick my head in the ground (and by sticking my head in the ground I mean sitting my ass on the couch, cuddling up with M and watching TV, so I guess that would have been a better metaphor, but it's too late for that now, isn't it) and hope that the malaise passes on by like a storm cloud.

The medicine I'm using this time around is the first season DVD of "Animaniacs" (given to me for Christmas by Mike (W00t!), the first season DVD of Robot Chicken (lent to me by Jenn (back on the blog again!) and the sixth season of "24." Always take your crazy with a side of violence.

On Sunday I was down. Down right in the dumps and M had left me in the living room while he made some bacon and eggs. In his absence, and sick of my wallowing in abstract sadness, I put on the animaniacs. Like a morphine drip I was laughing and singing along with the show. ("I take umbrage at that!" "Sure, take all the umbrage.") The good feelings lasted well over two hours and gave me strength enough to start reorganizing the art on the walls of our place.

That was until around 7 p.m. Then the sadness was back. But good news! "24" was on at eight. Happiness again! Absurd plot lines, violence and tolerance to pain again! The show is so over the top it's fantastic and I simply must know who thought of the idea of biting a man to death. Like seriously, where does that idea come from?

You know what, don't answer that.

Lastly, my saving grace is Robot Chicken. I'm just starting into the DVD and it's great. While I was starting in, John R sent me a YouTube link to something from the second season that almost made me shoot my drink out of my nose.

Never underestimate the healing power of laughter.

HRH

The miracle of pumpkin pie

It comes as no secret that I've been a rather finicky person for most of my life. In our house growing up, it was four picky people and the few things that we all agreed were tasty we would eat in repetition. It was a house of staple foods and a champion of the Nordic palette. I never really had a problem with that, but when I met M he was all about me trying everything once, having new foods and culinary experiences.

While I'm no where near the level of food adventurer that he would like me to be, I have come a very, very long way. And I've discovered that there are a lot of things that I had ruled out of my diet without having tried for, really, no good reason at all.

For example, pumpkin pie. Never in my life had I experienced pumpkin pie until this most recent Christmas holiday. I mean, my great aunt's pumpkin pie recipe was used at the Royal York for awhile back in the 50s, and I have NEVER experienced this. So wrong.

I can't even remember why I wouldn't eat pumpkin pie. I imagine it was because I'd assumed that it actually tasted like the bits of pumpkin I would nibble on while doing Hallowe'en carvings. Sure, it was kind of like turnip, but would would want that for dessert. Also I violated my belief that vegetables have no business on your plate after dinner. But I was wrong. So wrong.

I became amenable to the idea of pumpkin pie in several phases. First, a few years back, M's mother made us a pumpkin loaf, and it tasted sweet and yummy. I learned that all things pumpkin didn't mean all things gourd-tasting. Then this summer M and I made lamb burgers (you really should try them Shaver) that were seasoned with pumpkin pie spice. Again, sweet and delicious.

Finally, being friends with Tash and Chris has given me a new appreciation for pie. I've always been a pretty dedicated cake fan and thought that having pie would be like winning runner up in a beauty pageant. Also growing up in my house we usually only had one kind of pie. Lemon meringue, because it was my sister's favourite pie (as she loves all things lemon) and I just hated it. Eventually we discovered the merits of the key lime pie after some time in the southern US. I guess it was there that I began to make my peace with pie.

I have learned that pie is good. And that I have a fondness for pies like key lime pie, chocolate pie and, most importantly pumpkin pie. Tash made pumpkin pie for our annual get together and gift exchange. It was my first pumpkin pie experience and it was as close as an atheist gets to a religious experience. Oh My GOD. If there was a religion that was all about the glory of pumpkin pie and if accepting the host at mass meant actually eating pumpkin pie, I would become a theist so fast...

Anyway, I can't believe I didn't try it sooner. I'm sure that it had been offered time and time again. So it serves as another example of me being pig-headed and stubborn about something I would really enjoy and thereby losing out on years of goodness.

At least I've learned my lesson now.

HRH

Holiday wrap

I suppose my appearance back at work today means that the holiday season is drawing to a close. It started with some sadness for me this year as I was down about M and I being apart for Christmas. On the train to Kingston, while the cold that often takes over my body as soon as I let it relax took over, I resolved to make the best of my holiday, even though I would be apart from my husband for three days of it. And I was doing pretty decently, though I missed him terribly, and I was rewarded for my positive spirits by yet another holiday surprise from my man.

Mid-afternoon on Christmas day I was coming inside after taking Zeus outside for a walk and my father called me into the living room for something. I walked into the room, look at my Dad, looked at M, then looked at my Dad again and said "What?" Moments later my brain synthesized M's presence in the room and I exploded with glee. He had driven to Kingston a day early so he could be with me for Christmas dinner. And, as always, my family was in on it all. My mother even had me set the dinner table for six guests as part of the ruse. M is now wondering what he can do next year to surprise me to keep the tradition running.

The rest of the holiday was great. We spent time with friends and family, as well as some seriously quality time napping on the couch. There were a couple nights of playing Wii that resulted in a shocking amount of stiffness in the days after, but also in a tremendous amount of fun.

So while my holiday spirit arrived late, it made it in the right amount of time. The holiday season basically finished for me yesterday with the celebration of the wonderful M's 30th birthday. We will be commemorating the occasion fully on Saturday with a healthy amount of friends, drinking, gifting and karaoke singing. I'll try to refrain from making any ending the season on a high note jokes.

HRH

Glamour and Glitter, Fashion and Fame

In the line up at Starbucks a colleague of mine confessed that she'd be spending a lot of time on YouTube recently, watching episodes of Jem. My reaction to this was delight in knowing that I could see the cartoon that shaped my girly psyche (for better or worse) and also dismay that I could see the cartoon that shaped my girly psyche (for better or worse).

Like most girls of my time I LOVED Jem. Loved the hell out of it. Whenever I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, the answer was almost 100 per cent of the time "singer." Who ever thought up the show was a frickin' genius. I'm sure my entire family was scarred for life by my repeated (aka perpetual) listenings to the tapes that came with Jem dolls.

After a conversation with Tash (one who totally surpasses me in diehard Jem fandom) today, I decided to have a look at the shows. Would they live up to what they are in my memories? The plots themselves are terrible, the animation dated, but one thing continued to strike a cord with me; the Jem music videos.

They were each about a minute and a half long, silly as all get out but completely awesome. I managed to find my favourite one, from the episode "Stiches" where Jem and the band are trying to inspire their drummer Shana (also their clothing designer) to create something amazing. The result The Mood I'm in:



Oh it makes me want to dye my hair pink. Bless you YouTube.

Update: It would be unfair if I didn't unclude my favourite Misfits song as well, We're off and runnin'.

Today's sing-a-long song: "The Jem Theme Song" by Jem and The Holograms.

HRH

Finely filtered

Geez! We're well into December and I'm just getting around to the first blog of the month now. Something is truly amiss. I don't know why, but I haven't had a lot to say for awhile. Blog posts occur to me only when I am as far away from my computer as time and space allows. It would be really lame to have this fizzle out when I'm a mere six months away from this blog being a whole five years old.

I suppose because I've been at this for some time, I'm less inclined to just blather about all the things I've blathered about before. I suppose I could talk about all the cooking I've been into of late, or how I find it perpetually annoying that hand lotion bottles always develop a crust around the spout and I invariably cover myself in hand cream when I try to use force to get it out of the way. I mean, isn't that just the most fascinating thing EVER.

Indeed, I could regale the public about my latent fears of pregnancy and home ownership (though both seem to be ultimately positive and inevitable things), my growing problem with buying clothing at Lululemon, how I'm trying to learn all the choreography to the Thriller video, about my recent experiments (and total failure) in do it yourself home hair glossing, how totally fucking gorgeous the Christmas tree is this year and how I could actually send out the wedding thank you cards if my husband would just finally print the darn labels.

Stuff is going on. I'm good. We should really get together for tea sometime. I'm finding the Chelsea show is better in person these days than online.

Today's sing-a-long song: "I don't feel like dancing" by the Scissor Sisters

Operation Shoe Lift

What a small and strange world we live in. Who knew that a few months ago when I was connecting a colleague with Shaver and friend for some Metric tickets that I would be helping the kind man who is bringing the latest attempt at the right wedding footwear across the border into Canada, all part of a deal brokered by Mike?

Also, please allow me to pause and tell you all about how totally kick-ass the customer service is from Zappos. I place the order yesterday for the last pair they have in my size (typical), reading that it will take 4 business days to reach the chosen US location. I call this morning to see if it's at all possible that they can be sent earlier. The Shoe Mule is leaving for Canadaland on Wednesday so it was rather key that the shoes be there by Tuesday. So I call them and ask if I can pay for expidited shipping and they offer to upgrade me from the free four-day shipping option to the two-day shipping option at no charge, meaning the shoes will get there on Monday. "Fantastic!" I say, pleased as punch.

Then I get an e-mail from them about two hours later telling me that they've further upgraded the order to overnight shipping, again, for no charge. So the shoes will be delivered tomorrow. And I didn't even have to give them a sob story about these being the shoes I'm trying to find for my wedding or how they have to be flats or the right tone and colour or that I have pontoons for feet. No pleading required. Just great service.

Retail outlets take notice of what real customer service is, Zappos please start selling your products in Canada and God Bless America while we're at it.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Hunter" by Bjork.

HRH

Ha!

I find it imperative to point out to you all that if you do a google search for "nicest people in the world", I am currently the fifth hit.

If you must point out that the search has nothing to do my actual status as nicest person in the world, I must politely ask you to suck it.

HRH

Look at me I'm begging for more more more

I don't think there's anything as awesome as going for a cupcake tasting. Let's pause for a moment and revel in the wonder of mankind and the progress of humanity, my fortune at being born in the place and time that I have and advances in the dessert industry. I was at a fricking cupcake tasting! With incredible cupcakes!! I'm really not a good enough person to deserve this. Cupcake tasting!

Even better was the spectacular sugar high that I rode for at least an hour after the tasting. Most sugar highs are quick and fleeting, but this one, it got a good grip and made me nice and hyper.

Which makes me wonder if anyone every really opts not to order these cupcakes after a tasting. There's really no way for you to make a reasoned judgement when you're that hepped up. You'd agree to just about anything for another buttercream hit.

In other and completely unrelated news, I have five pounds to work off.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Sugar is Sweeter" by CJ Bolland

HRH

Now truly part of the nation

"What are you doing tonight?" M asked me over the phone at work today.

"Well, I was going to go to the gym, do some laundry, watch 24.."

"No. You're not."

"I'm not?"

"Nope. I was just handed Leafs Tickets. And they're good."

Thus began my first ever Maple Leafs game, from seat 2, row 16, section 108.

I got into hockey when I got into M. It was something I was always aware of growing up, but I spent more time watching La play hockey in our local arenas than I did watching the NHL on TV. I'm also from a pretty dedicated basketball/auto racing home. Sure, hockey was the reason that my grandparents got a TV (so they could watch the Leafs of course), but Hockey Night in Canada was not a sacred thing in our home. Star Trek, yes. Hockey, no.

So I've spent the last seven years learning about hockey (teaching a lot about basketball too) and all of that culminated into my first Leafs game tonight. True I have been to an NHL game before in Ottawa, a fine and fun time, but we were so close that I couldn't do much other than scream every time someone hit the boards near where we were sitting. This time, we were at one of the blue lines and we could really see everything.

And hear everything too. Early in the game I could hear Pat Quinn swearing at the team from across the rink (I could even see him chewing his gum) and when the Leafs tied it 2-2 in the third, I heard the ACC explode (and this wasn't even a hugely exciting game). I can only imagine what that place must be like during the playoffs (kind of like how Leaf fans are going to have to imagine the playoffs in general). It's pretty amazing to be swept up in it all.

Even more fun was hearing thousands of people make the same noises that M makes while he's watching hockey at home, but all in unison. And one had to chuckle at how much the ladies love Darcy Tucker. It was just a bit silly. Less fun was how the game went to a shootout (man I cannot handle those) and how the Leafs lost.

Still, it was great to get to see a game. Great for M as well. I could happily give up doing the laundry any time in exchange for this kind of fun.

HRH

Mooning the masters of karma

I don't want to tempt fate and really ask for something terrible to happen, but this wedding stuff? It's pretty fun and really not so hard. Of course it's easy to say that it's a breeze when the day is more than six months away, but really, it's coming together really well.

HRH

I am Sisyphus and doing the laundry is my rock

In which our heroine comes up from Olympics watching for a breath of air, gets "the dress", ponders if her insomnia is actually an existential crisis and wonders if it was having to dry socks that made Camus and Satre so jaded...

Okay, does anyone else get choked up when they watch an athlete who's won gold singing along to their national anthem or am I one step away from becoming a Hallmark-loving, minivan driving, sap? Perplexing.

Anyway, a few updates while I've turned away from the three stations showing Olympic coverage...

Last Saturday my mother and I purchased my wedding dress in under 20 minutes. Of course the two weeks of pondering the options didn't hurt my decision abilities one bit. We got out of the bridal salon just as a total princess bride (and I mean that in the pejorative way) walked in. You have to wonder who exactly agrees to marry people like that. But I digress. Pretty dress procured. Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen.

I'm still not sleeping anywhere close to enough. I did sleep on Saturday after having a very long and active day. And I napped the whole way through Sunday. Hopefully that will be enough to get me through this week.

I am trying to get out of this sleeping headgame. I now turn my alarm clock away from me so I can't count the minutes and hours I'm not sleeping as they pass by. The cat waking me up an hour before my alarm goes off is not a great deal of help either, but such is the life of a cat owner.

Friends and readers have given me a lot of good suggestions and have tried most of them (save John R's suggestion of turning off my alarm clock. MADNESS I tell you!) and they've only made me more awake so far.

The problem is that I simply cannot get my brain to stop and even when I've lulled it into relative quiet, I'm shaken out of sleep by noise or a cat. And the things I think of... so random and from all the time periods of my life. Things I'd totally forgotten, embarrassing moments I'd blocked out...I try to think of pleasant serial memories and I do and then I'm off on a series of mental tangents that get my brain whirring again.

I haven't gotten my hands on any relaxation CDs yet, mostly out of consideration for M. I tried to bring the owl with me to bed one night and M found the tone and melody creepy, citing that they use that kind of music in horror movies for a reason. The reading thing just gets my mind going even more (granted I'm not reading fiction as I haven't been able to read fiction in almost two-and-a-half years). I'm about to start a book on the history of Japan. At least this bout of insomnia has been educational.

As for the anonymous poster's suggestion, that's truly an avenue to being totally awake for me. Thanks though.

Because of the way I have to spread out the pills I take during the day, any calcium I take a bed time would counteract the iron supplements I seem to constantly have to take. Not that being off iron makes me sleepy, no, just listless. Also I just don't want to take anything like a supplement to sleep. It's taken me a long time to get my pills into working and effective balance and I don't want to throw that off with herbals that, generally speaking, are poorly regulated and not in truly predictable doses, at least here in Canada.

So what's left? Drying socks. I have been doing laundry in this dryer for more than two years now and I still have not figured out the right balance of clothes to get M's socks dry in a single dryer cycle. Like having to do laundry once a week isn't annoying enough, but to have this perpetual failure! I take laundry far too seriously.

Today's sing-a-long song: "As The Days Are Long" by Tory Cassis

HRH

Keeping the universe in balance one shopping experience at a time

So wedding dress shopping has been very fruitful. I'm down to a couple of lovely options and will be making the final call with the help of the one who's dressed me the most in my life, my mother, next weekend. Indeed I am flying high on the experience of actually fitting into dresses and looking good in them. It's cool and makes all the work worth it.

But something occurred to me today. You can lose all the weight you like to fit into the clothes you love, but no matter what you do, you can never shrink your feet. I've accepted that the chances of me finding beautiful shoes in my size for my wedding day are really slim, if not absolutely impossible. It's not an easy need to meet. I have size 11 feet and I want as little heel as possible. I'd also like to wear shoes that aren't going to kill me with pain, which rules out most of the cute shoes out there. I don't think I could be further from the wedding norm. Which is basically what I'm striving for in most cases, except that most shoe companies provide shoes for the critical mass, aka: the wedding norm.

It's good that I'm wearing a long dress and really, no one is going to be looking at my feet. That helps. But keep in mind that I'm a shoe person. M and I have closets full of shoes, closets. It seems incongruous that for a day when I really want to look great that I cover my feet in something orthopaedic looking because it's the only thing that meets my requirements.

It may seem early to be concerned about this, but I've learned from the sales people that scolded me about leaving shoe shopping too late. I really do need to start shopping for summer shoes months before other people do because those elevens go quickly. If any of you are out and about and see a shoe (or even two) that's a one inch heel or so, white (ivory or off-white, even better), classy and just plain beautiful, let me know. I have a feeling this search is going to be a group exercise.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Move Your Feet" by Junior Senior

HRH

It's all for me?

Turns out it is true. Shopping for wedding dresses one of the most fun things you can do. Hot damn I looked good in those things!

HRH

At least you can laugh at it

Thank goodness for Rick Mercer. I've always had a soft spot him and the charming way he says the word "car." This week I love him just a little more.

When it comes to mocking Canadian elected officials he's fantastic and on last night's Mercer Report he was particularly on his game. If you'd like a good chuckle I suggest you head over to the Mercer Report Web site and have a look at some of this week's video clips. I heartily suggest that you watch the piece on the youth vote and Rick's rant for January 17th and please, please, please be sure to click on the Liberal icon and have a look at his wonderful spoof attack ad. In a shed indeed.

HRH

Sitting like adults do

Yesterday seemed like it would be a somewhat normal day. M and I had some venues to check out for the wedding, my parents stopped by on their way off to sunnier shores, M and I spent an obscene amount of time at an HMV... Everything pretty much normal.

Save a very serendipitous series of things. M's step-brother and his wife gave us a Pottery Barn gift certificate as an engagement present and we suddenly found ourselves with a block of time to kill before meeting friends for dinner. We stopped by the Bloor Street Pottery Barn on a lark, hoping to pick up a nice set of cheese knives or something like that. We walk in the front door of the store and there on sale are floor models of a lovely couch, chair and ottoman. Like obscenely on sale.

We've been looking for a new couch for some time and it looked like we were never going to find something that was the right style, size or price. And then poof! there it was. Really lovely pieces in a nice neutral shade, so discounted that after tax all three pieces cost less than one piece at regular price. Kick ass. Sure there is a bit of damage to them, but they're in really good condition.

Even better they wanted them gone as soon as possible, so we had them delivered by the city's most amazing mover this morning who expertly removed doors, frames and other impediments to get it all upstairs to our apartment. Out old couches were taken to a shelter for battered women, as they're still in pretty decent shape.

So here we are with our first couch and chair set that isn't a hand-me-down from family. Not that getting hand-me-downs from family didn't save our seating skin for a long time, but this is a nice step in the whole growing up/adulthood/independent thing. Every time we walk into the living room now we both emit a sound of joy (M's being a satisfied "mmmm" and me a squeal of joy).

Today's sing-a-long song: "Part of the Furniture" by Catatonia

HRH

Stablize your rear deflectors

I'm really going to have to get a grip on this ridiculously happy thing. I'm running the risk of tarnishing my cool and embittered exterior. However, being this happy and excited is just so much fun. I may have to develop a new persona to sustain it all.

Life has been a lot of wedding planning in the last week. It's pretty much awesome. Event planning is one of the things that I do really well and there's nothing more fun than planning a party for the people you love. It's going to be a (pardon my language) fucking awesome good time.

But it's not without it's challenges. I'm trying to keep perspective and not get eaten alive in the vicious chompers of the wedding industry. It's a good thing I've got M around to help me keep it real, lest I come home one day insisting on useless chair covers running $200 a pop. Chair covers. Oh the stories I've heard in the past week.

When I'm drowning in a taffeta sea of the 2000 some wedding dresses I looked at online this weekend (finding one that I would even consider wearing) or when I am under attack from a fleet of tacky, flying floral stationary I just repeat in my head "Stay on target."

Today's sing-a-long song: "Come into my world (Fisherspooner Remix)" by Kylie Minogue

HRH

Reconstruction complete

After many months, I am now totally done physiotherapy. Three problems were brought in and all three were remedied in due course. Back trauma from my fall, sorted. Long standing issues with my knees, sorted. Thrown out back, sorted. All thanks to hard work, on the part of both me and my physio, and breathing my way through it all.

I'm overjoyed at being fully mobile again. It's pretty amazing. However, there is a downside. My physiotherapist was just awesome and a lot of fun. I'm going to miss our chats about all things nerdy. Not so much that I'm going to throw myself down the stairs or anything like that, but it was nice to have such a cool rapport.

In light of this long-overdue recovery, it only seemed apropos that Chris B e-mailed me this image today.



I'll be sure to stand up straight for ever more.

HRH

Signs that things are as they should be

• Christmas presents are wrapped


• Made pancakes for breakfast


• Watched more episodes of Carnivale and Return of the King Extended Edition


• Christmas cards are all written


• Could have slept in, but didn't need to


• Full flexibility restored


• Saw new Harry Potter movie with friends


• Got to shop, and clothing fitting wasn't the deciding factor


• Enjoyed Soma's "Drink of the Gods" hot chocolate


• M got to take lots of photos (see flickr roll)

Yay for good weekends

HRH

Pain in the neck

I woke up on Sunday with an unwelcome and familiar pain. The area between my left shoulder blade and my spine was a sharp, evil knot of pain. Much like the pain I'd felt last winter when I took a tumble down my front steps. The thing is, I don't remember falling down the steps and knocking the wind out of myself in my sleep on Saturday night. As such, the pain was quite a mystery. And quite painful, as pain usually is.

Having learned my lesson that back pain doesn't go away if you ignore it I called my physiotherapist first thing Monday morning and by the end of the day I was at his office being contorted and questioned, as we both agreed it's basically impossible to develop scar tissue like I had before overnight.

And I hadn't. In fact, I'd found an entirely new and exciting way to feel pain in the very same spot. One of my discs (disks?), where my the part of my spine that's considered my neck meets the part of my spine that's considered my upper back, is a bit out of whack. Some of it is stress, some of it is (gasp!) posture (but only when I'm seated) and some of it is sleeping in positions I know I shouldn't sleep in (it's hard to control that when you're asleep).

What's good is that my prognosis is a fairly full recovery in a bit over a week. But I have to wonder if this is going to be something I'm contending with for the rest of my life. This is the third time in my life that I've gone through physio for my back. Every time has been for something different. I live a really healthy life, I take good care of myself and am in good shape, yet...

Thank goodness for benefits and physiotherapists that enjoy talking about Star Wars.

Today's sing-a-long song: "The Bends" by Radiohead

HRH

The hazy shade of winter

Every year as the first bits of snow fall, we all act like it's the end of the world. Maybe it's because I got paid today, making Christmas shopping less scary, or because I was able to wear my sherling coat with a matching hat, mitten and scarf combo, but when Shaver and I came out of a delicous lunch at Salad King to a fully snowing sky, I wasn't really upset by it.

Sure, it seemed a little early and I would have preferred a little more time to enjoy super-cute fall fashion, but seeing the snow made me feel good. I sometimes forget how much fun winter can be until it starts.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Winter" by Tori Amos

HRH

Child's Play

Here's the deal everyone.

Back in 2003, the brilliant minds at Penny Arcade set up a charity called Child's Play. For those who don't know, Penny Arcade has a readership of around four and a half million gamers across the world and is arguably the largest community of gamers on the Internet. Also, it brings the funny and brings it hard.

The charity works like this: With the help of hospital staff (ahem) they set up Amazon Wish Lists full of video games, books and movies. Then the kind people of the world go to the wish list of their hospital of choice, buy a toy or a book and it is sent directly to the Child Life program at that hospital. I don't think I need to explain why having a good book to read, a funny movie to watch or an engrossing game to play is important for children, nor do I need to explain why it is imperative for kids who are sick and admitted to hospital. You're all smart. You get that.

As Penny Arcade reports, "through Child's Play the gaming community sent nearly a million dollars in toys, games, and cash to children's hospitals around the United States," over the last two years of the project. Pretty awesome. This year time they've expanded Child's Play to more hospitals around the US, Canada and the UK. The Canadian ones being SickKids in Toronto and IWK in Halifax. Which means that Canadians now have a chance to be part of this incredibly cool project.

What makes this kind of charity really amazing, is that the hospital is able to select the items that they really need. While any donation or gift is appreciated and cherished, contibutions of this kind do so much because they are meeting a genuine need. I won't say much more at the risk of Doocing myself, but if charity is on your mind and gaming is your thing, this is a great way to merge them.

HRH

Like I really need a reason

Yesterday I saw yet another reason why having kids would be really cool. Hallowe'en. As I was making my way home a little late from work I made my way through our neighbourhood at the apex of all the trick or treating. My heart welled with pride at all the Darth Vaders I saw. It was awesome. The best were the older kids around 10 and 11 years old who were just giving it all with their lightsabers. Then I realized if I had baby, a baby that's too young to protest when I dress them up in whatever I deem adorable, I could dress them up as Yoda! (Yes I am the person who would dress up a child who can't trick or treat. My yen for cuteness knows no boundaries). Just imagine the cuteness. And I would finally be vindicated for the time when my family vetoed my bid to name our new cat Yoda. The whole thing just looked like so much fun. Boo!

It also segues nicely into the fact that Episode III is out on DVD today. My saga collection will be complete. Now I just need to find a spare 12 hours to watch the whole thing...

Today's sing-a-long song: "The United States of Whatever" by Liam Lynch

HRH

Friendship is being able to express it all with "eeee!"

This week was a bit of a doozy, but true to form my Kingston friends came out of the woodwork to tide me through it all. I would like to take this moment to thank them all for making this week just a little bit lighter.

Like Julie who took me to see Henry Rollins do his spoken word think and enable me to laugh so hard that no sound came out and who I managed to see 3 times in less than 24 hours. That hasn't happened since we were both living HMV back in K-town and my my it was wonderful. I must have more of that.

My Mum, who I consider one of my best friends, who just does so much more for me than I can express and having her come to the city so often is just so wonderful. That can keep happening all the time and I'll be quite alright with it.

Or Carly who I ran into on the crosswalk at Yonge and Bloor. The reunion went in typical style for us. Recognition, glee and the realization that it could be fatal if we stop and give each other a huge hug in the middle of Yonge street, so pause everything and run like idiots to the side of the street where we proceeded to hug, squeal with joy and lavish eachother with compliments. Blogs must be thanked for keeping us on top of eachother's lives, thus sparing us the "so what are you up to..." chat and just get right to the good stuff. I need more of this too.

Finally Laura, who I have to spend heaps and heaps of time with before she takes off on her own international adventure. There's something about hanging out with someone you've known and adored for 15 years that's just so affirming. Someone who can really laugh with you about how retarded everything was in the hell that was highschool and shared all those steps of growing beyond it all. I don't know how I could survive without this.

Today's sing-a-long song: "I'll be there" by The Jackson 5

HRH