Friday, July 29, 2005

You saw it here first, folks!

Yes indeedy, the birth of a BRAND NEW WORD.

Some of you may have noticed something...odd about my last blog.(I know who you are. You can't hide.)
You may have noticed that I tossed a rather...unusual word in very casually about half way through.

Officially Introducing:



I understand that most reputable dictionaries do NOT recognize my word at all, but I'd like to say here and now, they'll be jumping on the 'subvertive' band wagon soon.

Furtive + subversive = SUBVERTIVE!!

Ain't it gorgeous!?!

I'm so proud.

Gnomes and trends.

Mystery of missing garden gnomes puzzling
By The Associated Press | July 19, 2005

GREELEY, Colo. --The mystery of the missing garden gnomes may prove harder to solve after all.
Police found about 80 of the pint-sized figurines stashed in black plastic bags and surrounded by youngsters on Saturday, but investigators don't think the children stole them.
In fact, Sgt. Dave Adams said the children most likely found them, so it's back to square one.
Adams said police will call people who reported their gnomes stolen to come identify the decorative yard items.
Elsie Schnorr, who had 30 gnomes stolen from her front lawn more than a month ago, will be among the first to retrieve her property.
"I could identify every one of them. My name isn't on them, but I know which ones are mine. Most of mine are one-of-kind," she said.

First of all, may I just say ....


okay, that being said---

This little episode proves my friends and I were TREND SETTERS, I tell ya...TREND SETTERS!!!

As children, we, too, experimented with Gnomes.
(okay, we weren't exactly CHILDREN, but that's beside the fact, well...nevermind about that.)
So anyway, we had a habit of visiting a certain house, in the dead of night, and rearranging their multiple gnomes.

Generally, we would arrange them on the doorstep...staring alarmingly into the house...we liked to think it looked as if the gnomes were stopped just short of a major insurrection by the breaking of the dawn, but it probably just looked kind of silly.

We returned to the same house several times, and did more subvertive rearranging, but stopped eventually, as it was no fun not being able to see the inhabitants faces as they rose in the morning to see a horde of gnomes threatening their homestead.

Well, I guess they weren't that threatening...with their cute little hoes and buckets, but imagine if they were 30 feet tall!?
30 feet tall, grinning their weird maniac grins.

Now that would be scary.

Oh yes.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005


Extreme accounting is the latest - and unlikeliest - adrenaline sport.

Accountants visit challenging locations like mountain tops, seabeds, caves and rollercoasters.
Inspired by the "extreme ironing craze", (this really DOES exist) they take their paperwork with them, reports the Sun.

South African Keet Van Zyl is the sport's reigning champion.
(I'd like to know what he did to deserve the title...did he set himself on fire while adding up two tax returns at the same time?)

A spokesman for the Chartered Institute of Management Accounting said: "It's a phenomenon that pushes accountants to their limits - and beyond."

Oh and what, helping people evade their taxes isn't thrilling enough, it has to be done hanging naked over a croc pit?

Don't accountants get enough excitement tieing their own shoes?

Jeffye? Any thoughts?

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

A nice restaurant = disappointment

I took myself out for lunch the other day, to a restaurant I’d been wanting to try for some time.
“Provence”, it was called.

I waltzed in and was taken to a very nice seat by the window and waited to order a drink.
And waited.
And waited.

(still waiting…)

FINALLY, the waiter came by and took my drink and lunch order.
“I’ll have a cold beer and the cannelloni, please.”
“Yes ma’am.” He took off towards the back.

What? Did I say cannelloni?? Why did I do that!?
I actually wanted the ravioli.

The restaurant was very nice.
Small and elegant…taupe walls, accented by long, heavy and elegant drapery in a darker chocolate brown held back from the wood encased floor to ceiling french windows with gold ties.
While the view was only of a street, the restaurant had put in a raised outside patio and sumptuous amounts of flowers and trailing greens to detract from the less than ideal view.

They were playing a slightly overdone version of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, which I love, but it has been pla...

“YEAH, so like, I said to the guy, give him a head butt, man! That’ll take care of him!”

A man’s voice rang out over the carefully selected background music with an apparent word to the wise.

What the HELL was that?

Looking around surprised, I could see a young waiter titillating his feminine co-worker with tales of virility.

Which, you know, obviously went very well with the calm d├ęcor and carefully chosen wall hangings.

“’Cus you know, if there’s going to blood spilt, you don’t want it to be yours.”

Uh huh.
Thanks for that.
That little old woman sipping tea in the corner will be sure to know exactly what to do the next time she's in the ring with the 'Undertaker' (which may come in handy for her sooner than later, judging by her frail appearance.)

Another waiter circled the empty dining room with a great, gawping open mouthed yawn, giving me pause to reflect on how proud I am of the excellent dental service afforded to all Canadian citizens.

Oh look, here comes my tomato based cannelloni and a side salad.

I had to wonder what the side salad did to deserve its’ sad fate, however.
Poor, poor salad.
What did those innocuous little greens do to deserve death by drowning in a balsamic dressing?

It wouldn’t be fair to judge the cannelloni, as I’ve never been a big fan, but I guess it was okay.
The pasta was al dente, the tomato sauce fresh and the melted cheese good.

Despite the palatability of the cannelloni, a head butt may have been a better overall experience.

And here's why.
I’m a customer that enjoys service at my finger tips.
I like it when my waiter comes to me and asks how I am, if I need anything, if I’m done with my cannelloni and would like to get it wrapped.

I enjoy being doted on.

There was no fear of that, however, in this empty little restaurant.

I was put in a corner and pretty much left to fend for myself against gaping jaws, bad manners, and a violent sounding waiter.
And it looked as if I would have to wrap my own lunch, too.

And no…I didn’t take the salad…it was WAY past resuscitation, thank you very much.

But oh my, weren’t they quick as bunnies with the bill!

I was left to question if I did offend somehow, the poor service, the average food slapped down in front of me, a bill brought to quickly...and then I reconsidered...they'd all been exposed to one to many headbutts.

Friday, July 22, 2005

This work thing is interrupting PRIME blogging time.

I knew that was going to happen!
Ah well, I promise to blog as often as I can, and as well as I can.

Luckily, nothing of interest has occurred this week, so I don't feel as if I'm leaving you, gentle reader, out in the dark on my (at the moment) less than fascinating life!

Oh, I just forgot!
I did go to the Vancouver Art Gallery last night, to see the Rodin exhibit.

I saw some of his works at the Musee Rodin in Paris a few years ago, but unfortunately, the employees were on strike while I was there, and the museum was closed.
I got to see very little besides the gardens and some of the statues on permanent display there.
The gardens were beautiful, as was the exterior of the Hotel Biron, but I could little more than press my nose up against the glass in a vain attempt to see the wonders inside.

I was very glad that the Gallery had a presentation of his works, as Rodin is a wonder.

His sculptures stand effortlessly in space, the delicate ones looking so airy and light that any moment they may be whisked away by the slightest breeze.
His more forceful statues takes up room in a fierce, concentrated energy...there is no mistaking the intent.

Here's a good, accurate quote...
"His great individual figures and best monuments reveal a depth of feeling for humanity and a nobility of thought that place them among the finest works of European sculpture."

Michelangelo had marble, but Rodin has bronze.
And it's wonderful.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

And with a single 'crack' of the whip... is back to full GO!
So, if you wonder what's happened to me, that would be it.


Oh, remember I mentioned stupid idiot boy crashed his Ferrari a while back?
Well, he's done it again, but this time he's managed to write off his BMW Z8.

Maybe some one should take all his toys away until he learns how to play nice.

Monday, July 18, 2005

P.S. (an addendum to the weekend.)

I narrowly managed to avoid purchasing my very own copy of :

"Hamlet, the Revised Klingon Editon"

So if you want a copy, it's out there folks, for the low low price of $39.95.

Also available:

For five monthly installments of $49 each, you can get "The Official Klingon d’k tahg Crystal Edition," which is "the awesome weapon of the Klingon warrior" from "Star Trek."
This would be used, presumably, to stab people who call you a hopeless geek.
(It would also come in handy to defend your Klingon copy of Hamlet from bullies who want to mindlessly shred it into very tiny, tiny pieces.)

You'd better hurry, I'm seriously reconsidering my intial reaction of pure horror to it, and may going running back to buy all of them.

Please. Hurry.

Busy busy busy weekend!

Ah, what better way to spend a sunny weekend (the first in a long while, here in Vancouver!) than with dear friends, good food, Shakespeare on a beach and sangria at a Flamenco show?
I'll tell you...
NOTHING could be better!

All of my girlfriends get together once a year to celebrate our collective 'UN' Birthday...we don't buy each other presents, instead we meet at one destination once a year to celebrate our friendship with our 'presence'.

So, the first trip to the ferry Friday evening, and then off to coffee. Unfortunately, that little trip saw us wading through hordes of little wizard wannabees as they waited in cranky, over tired, hyperactive lines for the newest Harry Potter book.

Saturday, a delicious breakfast at a wee English pub ("please, no black and white pudding!)
(I've never had black pudding before, but according to 'Vanne, (who is capable of painting evocative paintings with just a few words), it's rather like eating a scab.)

Another quick trip to the ferry, and another dear friend is added to the mix Saturday afternoon.
A bus trip to the beach to see 'Rozencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead' was hot and sweaty, but soooo worth it.
What a GREAT play...the quality of dialog left not a minute that was not entertaining...thanks Tom Stoppard...I love that play!

A quick bus trip home, to make ready for a night on the town!
Dinner at a fabulous restaurant, replete with fine wine, and a courtesy visit by the chef...then a jaunt across the street to watch some fiery and splendid Flamenco dancers moving across the small stage with authority and passion.

And then Sunday, a fine breakfast with more friends, then a cab ride BACK to the beach to take in a fine day under the main tent to see 'As You Like It'.
And thanks to you, William, for such delightful, thought provoking plays.
"All the world's a stage..."

I can't think of a more splendid weekend!
Thanks to my dear friends, for making it so sweet!
(with an extra nod of thanks to Nish', for soldiering through it all as well as she did...don't worry, you'll be fine by the time the UN-Christmas rolls around!)

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Thank the Gods! Praise be!

They've gotten around to inventing an 82" t.v.
The people who've been forced to try to get by with 62" and 72" inch TVs will see some relief.

I just can't imagine how, as a race, we've survived so long.

Thank you Samsung.
We can all rest easier at night knowing that you are there...striving to make this world a better place.


*sniff* **SNORT**


Ooooh, man...that picture just makes me howl!

Mr. T.


I wasn't allowed to watch it as a much violence.

Interestingly, despite the multitude of car crashes, explosions and gratuitious acts of random destruction, no one ever died.

Come to think of it, the bad guys could roll their car up and down several hills, fly upside down over a bridge, have it burst in to flames for no apparent reason, get hit by a well timed train, and then fall off a cliff, and they would still manage to escape their now crushed, smoldering, demolished vehicle without even a limp to show for all their efforts.
Truly inspiring!

So anyway, I wasn't allowed to watch it due to the amount of violence, but beyond that, I'm not entirely sure what my dad thought...I really wasn't foolish enough to think I could do those things.

Oh, don't get me wrong.
I tried and tried to emulate my heros antics (not to mention their shenanigans), but I just never got the flame thing quite right.
I could spin out and burn rubber, do three sixties down dark winding roads with deep water-filled ditches on either side, and my smoke shows were the stuff of legend, but alas, no flames. *

Though in retrospect, I suppose that was a good thing.

*but maybe I just wasn't trying hard enough...maybe now that I'm older and more experienced with cars and fire, and with a little more practice...

...hey 'Vanne, wanna go for a car ride?

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

I didn't know that 'glass-gazing' was a bad thing...

I’m such a lucky girl!
First Danny gives me a fine Italian phrase book from the Lonely Planet.
(Yes, 'Vanne, it includes ALL the ‘indelicate’ terms.
*nudge nudge* *wink wink*
I'll be cursing up an Italian storm, believe you me!)

Oh, I do love my phrase book…it’s so VERY informative…molto grazie Danny!

Mi sento fortunatissima!

And then…
Another great bequeathing!

Another book!!

And not just ANY book, but a timely and perfectly given book.
“Shakespeares’s Insults: Educating Your Wit”

Oh, many, many thanks Chris…and the inscription…so eloquent!

May I quote you?
Yes, I believe I will.
“Knowledge is idle when trapped on a bookshelf.”
Oh, yes, you’re are ever so correct, and your gift ever so appreciated!

And here’s a fine insult from “As You Like It”:

“I do frown on thee with all my heart,
And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee.”

Ah, I love insults that have real bite to them.
None of this, "You suck" here, oh no, this has depth and sting...

"You are a knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable, finical rouge; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good sevice, and are nothing but the compostion of a knave, beggar, coward, pander and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I will beat into clamorous whining if thou deni'st the least syllable of thy addition!"


Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Please, don't ask, just smile politely and walk away quickly.

adopt your own virtual pet!

Glad I was wrong about that!

I went for Thai food the other day.
LOVE Thai food.
The hotter the better.

They got one of the orders wrong, not a big deal really, but they felt that they should offer us a free dessert to make up for their outrageous error.

It came out...a small dish of easily recognizable ice cream and...what IS that??

A small brown lump of something deep fried.

I'd never had ice cream with a fish stick before.

With great trepidation, I took a nibble and ascertained quickly that it WASN'T fish (though they might want to change their frying oil soon), but I still couldn't figure it out.

Another small bite...BANANA!

Deep fried banana.
It wasn't great, but I'm REALLY glad it wasn't a fish stick.

Monday, July 11, 2005

Once I settle in, I'll invite everyone over. Should be any day now.

A nice little to place to call home in Tuscany is SUCH a necessity, don't you agree?

Oh, to travel again.

My travel bug is starving and complaining bitterly.
It's partially my fault, I've been reading travel memoirs about France and Italy, feeding the bug even more, but not enough to satisfy it.
I really can not WAIT to go back to Europe.
My first few trips were so fabulous and exciting...I want to go back with more understanding and more language and more specific quests.

In France I want to spend more time in the small, small towns, investigating every nook and cranny.
In Italy I want to spend more time eating, and enjoying the foods each area has to know, Parmesan from Parma, roma tomatoes from get the drift, right?
Oh, to go again and be able to speak a little more of the know more about the wines...

The first time I went, it was with Vanne to the British Isles.
She had everything very nicley organized.
I didn't have to worry 'bout anything except for sleeping, and believe me, I worried about that A LOT!
The second time I went, it was on a whim...on a lark and all by myself!
I knew general things about France and Italy, and muddled through happily, but I know now that I missed a lot of things due to sheer ignorance (you realize, of course, I'm using that word in it's grammatically correct form, and not calling my self a stupid head, right?)

With luck (and some of Vannes' planning), I will be returning to my beloved Italia in a few years with my best friends, and what a joy that will be!
Traveling alone was great, and I'd do it again in a heart beat, but I'm really looking forward to being with my best friends to enjoy it.
As I've been to Rome before, it'll be a delight to watch 'Pol and Nisha's faces experiencing all those things for the first time.
And whatever Italian I fail to learn, I trust 'Vanne to pick up the slack!
You will, right?
uh...per favore?

I mean, lets consider for a moment shall we?
The only thing I can be trusted to say reliably in Italian is,"Vorrei dieci commemorativi francobolli, per favore."
And frankly, the thought of me running around Italy shouting at the natives, "I would like 10 commemortive stamps, please!" is distrubing.
First of all, it's a flat out lie, and secondly, it just doesn't get me any delicious food and wine, now does it?

Sono pazza, non?

Friday, July 08, 2005

Right back at ya, boys!

Ever hear the old saying, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?"

Well, here's your comeuppance guys, and about time, too...


"You don't buy the whole pig just to get a little sausage!"


Mos*qui*to = A dark minion fresh from the dankest levels of hell.

Main Entry: mos•qui•to
Pronunciation: m&-'skE-(")tO
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -toes also -tos
Etymology: Spanish, diminutive of mosca fly, from Latin musca -- more at MIDGE
: any of a family (Culicidae) of dipteran flies with females that have a set of slender organs in the proboscis adapted to puncture the skin of animals and to suck their blood and that are in some cases vectors of serious diseases

Main Entry: 1tor•ture
Pronunciation: 'tor-ch&r
Function: noun
Etymology: French, from Late Latin tortura, from Latin tortus, past participle of torquEre to twist; probably akin to Old High German drAhsil turner, Greek atraktos spindle
1 a : anguish of body or mind : AGONY b : something that causes agony or pain
2 : the infliction of intense pain (as from burning, crushing, or wounding) to punish, coerce, or afford sadistic pleasure

Main Entry: hell
Pronunciation: 'hel
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English; akin to Old English helan to conceal, Old High German helan, Latin celare, Greek kalyptein
1 a (1) : a nether world in which the dead continue to exist : HADES (2) : the nether realm of the devil and the demons in which the damned suffer everlasting punishment -- often used in curses or as a generalized term of abuse b Christian Science : ERROR 2b, SIN
2 a : a place or state of misery, torment, or wickedness b : a place or state of turmoil or destruction


So, anyone gleaming what the general topic of today’s blog is going to be from the above entries?

If you guessed unmitigated mental (and physical) anguish in the deep dark corners of the night, you’d be correct!

Lucifer himself decreed that I should lie awake in endless torment, awaiting the whining, soul destroying 'zzzzzzzzttttt' that announces a host of mosquitoes set to converge on my poor, prone sleepy body and bleed me dry.

I was sound asleep last night, when I awoke with a start; something hurt!
Something on my body was burning and insanely itchy.
OH, it’s my entire right arm and left kneecap.
DRAT! There’s a horde of mosquitoes in my room!

“OH PLEASE PLEASE,” I begged out loud to the enveloping dark, tears streaming down my face in fervent hands clasped at my chest in an age old gesture of humble and earnest entreaty *, “Please leave me be...look yonder,” I pointed at the prostrate body of my sleeping cat, “Take him. I have to work tomorrow!”

(At this point, I have to admit to a certain amount of guilt about that whole 'offering up of the cat' part.
But before you judge me too harshly, consider the considerable misery and torment that must have induced me to offer, as sacrifice, my cat to the demanding and vicious mosquito god...but he’s a right bastard! I had no choice! And I was tired and oh so itchy.)

That incident takes me back to the time I was riding a beautiful white horse across the plains of the Camargue in Provence.
I think it was lovely. I mean, I’m pretty sure it was.

The wild black bulls, the amazing and startlingly pink flamingos and vast green wetlands, all would have been a wonderful thing to see as I rode along that memorable day.

Unfortunately, the many flocks of MOSQUITOES that also grace the rough and rugged beauty of the Camargue got in my way.
All I could see was a great, black swarm of the blood thirsty agents of Beelzebub coming to carry me away to their pestilent leader.
The travel agents certainly didn’t mention THEM in their pamphlets, now did they!!

In short, I wage a daily battle against that wee terror.

I fight valiantly though, killing as many as I can with wild abandon.
I do, despite the knowledge that it's a war I'm destined to lose.

*oh, I do go on so, don't I!

Thursday, July 07, 2005

We're thinking of you London...

Know that you've got a place in all of our hearts now and in the future...
May your wounds heal quickly, though the scars remain.

A small portion from "The Cloud"

I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die,
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.

--Percy Bysshe Shelley

Speaking of sucking chest wounds...* (and more blathering)

...I was driving to work this morning, in the slower lane of the double lane highway, when a dark flash ran out across the path of the 5 ton UPS truck in front of me.
"Oh no..." I gasped as my stomach raced to my throat.
I slowed my car and waited to hear the screech of tires and to see the UPS truck twisting in effort to avoid hitting the crazed man who ran out in front of him.
I scanned the space ahead to look for a place to pull over to offer what ever aid I might, but realized suddenly that there would be very little I good do against a sucking chest wound.
Then I realized...there was no wail of brakes, or slow motion crushing of soft flesh against unforgiving metal...
Ah, it was merely a person on a moped cutting in front of the truck to take the turn off.
My eyes deceived me.
I was sure it was a person, dodging traffic to get across the road, I was sure that I was going to be witness to a death this morning.
And then I remembered the feeling of zero at the bone...Ms Emily Dickinson wrote that in reference to seeing a snake slid out from the underbrush, but that feeling of all the blood in your veins turning to ice was never better described.


I had a dream last night that Dana Scully (X-Files) and I, were investigating a small town where many of the people had developed a zombie-like presence which ended in a complete disintegration of flesh and, as one would expect after that, death.
We had ascertained that it was an airborne viral problem that was extremely infectious.
The initial symptoms began with general moodiness and unfocused rage, and then progressed as described above.
As we had identified the problem, the next thing to be done was to get the hell out before we, too, were infected.
BUT, of course, Ms Scully started getting grumpy so I had to leave her behind.

I know, not much of a climax.


My favorite ‘bumper sticker’

“Witches parking only.
All others will be toad”


My little cat Attessa is doing well with her wee purple cast.
She thumps around authoritatively, smacking Bentley as she goes.
Actually, she’s very good with it, leaving it alone, no licking or biting at it, she’s been very calm through the whole process.
The cast is coming off on the 18th of this month. It will be interesting to see her adjustment to a leg without a cast on.
But, she’s been taking it all in stride (…) so I doubt it’ll be more than a day or so before she’s perfectly re-adjusted to her old self!
Look out Bentley!

And blah blah blah…

(it’s getting worse, isn’t it?)

Signing off and begging your patience,
Tai the Absurd.

* thanks Spider Girl ( image has burned itself into my brain, and I just can't shake it!

Wednesday, July 06, 2005


This post will contain certain amounts of randomness and some sheer pointlessness as well.
And just so you know, so there's no mistake, there will be absolutely no rhyme or reason to it, no structure, and no obvious time line to follow.


I saw a man the other day, possessed of the most astounding collection of ear hair I have ever seen, or ever hope to (never) see again.
The exterior of his ear, (the round part just above the ear lobe) was thick with a cactus-like growth of black prickles sprouting densely outward, seeking the sun.
Then, there were the long, curly tendrils of inner-ear hair, bushy and circling around the dark hole leading to his brain.

It was a veritable pelt! His ear (I only saw the one) was truly hirsute!

I paused in my reflection of this astounding collection of furze, to wonder if some of those hairs could grow long enough to spiral in around his brain stem and do some serious damage.
He didn’t seen to notice my astonishment and revulsion, but then, the jazz music we were listening was very good.


I’ve become very talented at paper shuffling since Vancouver is currently experiencing a trucking strike.
My job is dependent on container shipping, as no containers are being moved due to no trucks driving them to our facility, I have very little to do.
Well, you might say, you could clean and file and update records.
You see, when I actually do have something to do, I’m very efficient at it, so I’m not behind.
Ah, but your co-workers, you press on.
They’re in the same boat, so to speak.
Thus, I blog and blog with relative impunity.
And I am happy.
I can’t actually LEAVE for the day, anyway.
But that isn’t so bad, the weather here in Vancouver has been dodgy at best (it’s only July, after all), so I'm better off at my desk, warm and dry and happily blogging.


I cleaned my apartment yesterday, not quite from top to bottom, but as close as I ever get to it.
I cranked up some old school Arrowsmith (I know, I know, even their modern stuff is already ‘old school’) and rocked out to “Dude Looks Like a Lady” while scrubbing my toilet.

I wonder what the neighbours think when I do that?
Normally I’m an extremely quiet person, listening sedately to chamber music whilst making a healthy dinner for myself to enjoy while watching documentaries I’ve rented from the library.
(OMG. It’s true! I really DO do that. Oh, what you must think of me!
Oh well, at least I don’t also have several cats that curl around my legs while I eat my dinner at the coffee ta... NEVERMIND!)


It’s a word that just doesn’t get used enough in everyday conversation.
It ought to be used till it, too, is ubiquitous.


AND...I have nothing else to say at this time.
Stay tuned!
If this strike doesn’t end soon, you may see more of this random gibberish by yours truly.

Signing off now before it gets really bad,
Tai the Inane

Monday, July 04, 2005

Loooong weekend.

It seems that this was a very looong weekend indeed.

Friday was our 'Canada Day' holiday, which of course means a glorious day off from work!
I did so much this weekend, but it's all kind of melting itself into a big pool of stuff in my head...
Hmmm, let me ponder for a moment.

My weekend involved (to varying degrees) sushi, jazz, Samuel L. Jackson, oysters (raw AND cooked), a pregnancy (not mine...Congrats again, Nish'!), Chinese fusion food, police, Italian lessons, car towing, the 'Mermaid Room', a missed lunch with a friend, (sorry Deb!), and the Vancouver Public Library. wonder I'm so tired today!
This work thing is getting in the way of my social life!
Hope all you good blog readers had a lovely Canada Day, and to those American neighbors of ours, have a nice 'Independence Day' out for those pesky space ships.