Showing posts from March, 2007

Look What I Found

For mor, because it's her birthday on Sunday.

Red Door


Random March & A Contest

Accidentally flipped by Global news a day or two after the last nasty, nasty storm and heard one talking head (Global’s seem to be more idiotic than the rest of them) say “after being pelted by last week’s icestorm, victims are still reeling”. Victims? Of a storm? When they’re not discussing loss of limbs or property? VICTIMS? Global is becoming Canada’s Fox News. Quite something to aspire to. The spam has made another jump in my inbox and the senders and subject titles are becoming more and more… a-hem, innovative. One of the best this month was one entitled penis launcher. I kid you not. Made me laugh every day for weeks (I saved it for that purpose). And speaking of inboxes…. I lost mine. A geek I once knew who worked in systems for a large company, mentioned how the staff in that department referred to Microsoft’s Outlook as “Look Out” and boy, was he right. Note to other users: if your Outlook has trouble compacting messages, do not put that on your “to deal w

My Sister's Keeper

For the past week, I have been completely lost in My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult . The book has been in my library for a couple of years - I remember hearing good things about it at the time, but the subject matter intimidated me. However, when I finished a book last week and was about to pick a new one, I felt in the mood to be challenged, to have a story make me think and so, it was time. This is a story about Anna, a 13-year-old girl who is the ultimate in designer babies: she was conceived by in-vitro fertilization, selected because the embryo that became her, was the closest match to her sister, Kate, who at age 2 was diagnosed with a particularly nasty form of leukemia. A type of leukemia that at the time reduced Kate's life expectancy to another nine months to three years. The first time Anna saved her sister’s life was immediately after birth, when she donated cord blood. Since then, Anna has saved Kate's life every couple of years, undergoing increasi

Happy Spring

And a very happy birthday to Janne/TinkMama - our family's Spring "baby".


It's been a bit of a week. Between being very determined not to think for a while while waiting for the Humira to start working, having trouble reactivating the brain - DST is so kicking my arse - the wheelchair doing that interesting thing again with the spinning around in the middle of the sidewalk (turns out I have a first generation controller-motor connection thingy, with all the first generation issues you can imagine. Replacement motor on order. Under warranty, thank the gods), plus various and sundry other uninteresting events, I am feeling decidedly fluffy. On this end, there is a lack of focus of truly stupendous levels. Naturally, this means only one thing: reality shows to the rescue! Besides, it's been a while since we've indulged in this unseemly obsession, so let's go for it, shall we? America's Next Top Model . I wasn't going to watch this year, but then that thing happened. You know, that thing where I don't feel good so I

Coffee Shop Lamp


The Power of One

A long time ago, I put Ken in charge of my opinions. For a while, I found it incredibly amusing to whenever someone asked me a question, look at him and say "what do I think about that?". Yes, yes, I can see all of you rolling around on the floor laughing right now - so maybe you had to be there or more likely, I'm telling it wrong. Trust me: it was hilarious. However, when it comes to books, Ken can be my arbiter of literary obsessions any time. Last year, he told me about Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell and about three weeks ago, he told me to read The Power of One. I’d looked at the book prior to Ken's recommendation, but the mention of boxing had turned me off - I don't like the sport, I don't see the point in two grown people pummeling each other into a bloody mess while hordes of rapid fans scream themselves hoarse with bloodlust. However, Ken hasn't been wrong yet, so I humbly obeyed and am so very glad I did. The Power of One takes

Wake Me Later

Daylight Savings Time started yesterday, three weeks earlier than normal and I don't like it. Aside from the fact that if you do something twice, it's tradition and you don't fuck with tradition, I have a spring ritual. The year goes something like that's: after the festivities of Christmas, you slog yourself through a cold, snowy and impoverished January. February is too depressing for words - I read an article in the paper that discussed just how depressing February is and suggested that if we renamed it, maybe it wouldn't remember how awful it is supposed to be. They even suggested a new name. George. I'm not sure that’d work. However, in March, you start being able to see the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel (as well as the literal as it's light around dinner time) and for some reason, probably the level of anticipation, this month feels really long. But three weeks in and there is the spring solstice and you start walking around with

Come In



I am better than I was - and quite sure that your kind words and wishes have a lot to do with that - really, you could bottle it and make a mint! However, I have decided to make this a low-profile week while improvement (hopefully) continues. Words will return when my energy levels increase.

Nice Package


Damned Disease

I’ve been in pain lately. Well, there’s always some, but we’re talking a different kind, a different quality of it. Quite loud. Pervasive. Distracting. There is too much pressure everywhere. Sitting quietly, not moving hurts. On the other hand, moving hurts, too, maybe even more than sitting still and not moving. Lying down hurts. Only when I knock myself unconscious with a large dose of drugs does it not hurt, but even then, sometimes the pain wakes me. This is the type of pain where really, all you can do is sit and whimper. Or if you do something, which if you’re me, you’ll be wont to do, as being both in pain and not getting anything done makes it worse. It’s the giving in to the blasted thing that I can’t handle and that’s symbolized by the decision to do nothing but be in pain and get through the day. That’s too close to giving up and giving up is not an option. It all started early last week when I wasn't sitting right (cushion issue still hasn’t b