The Seated View

Don't click the red button ! Got this from my friend Daniel who delights in torturing me. Gotta say though, this was pretty fun torture. D id you know that rats laugh when you tickle them ? A new movie called Earth, coming in 2009 and I've got it in my calendar already. I don't know what I like best - the polar bear making shapes in the snow, the duckling throwing itself out of a tree, the cloud of flamingo, but I do know that I want to see it. Preferably now. YouTube link here , but do yourself a favor and watch the high-def trailer here . A nother take on terrorism by James Pence. A flurry of cat links. First, sent to me by Lynn of the comments, the engineers guide to cats , which tell you as much about engineers as it does about cats . Second, also from Lynn , the Cat House on the Kings - that's putting your money where your mouth is. A nd last, found this article about how the ASPCA has developed a personality test for cats (and dogs, too). B...

My sister Janne and I are in many ways very much alike. You can tell from one glance that we're sisters and if you spend five minutes in a room with us, it's obvious that the similarities are much more than skin deep. For one, we both like to be in charge (which gets interesting when both of us are in the same room). We have triggers that make both of us laugh like idiots, while the rest of the room think we are indeed idiots, other things make us cry and if one of us cries, the other one catches it immediately. We are opinionated, passionate, ridiculously logical, yet randomly emotional and the list goes on. I say that with some trepidation, as I have a feeling that a few of the people who know us might feel tempted to leave longer lists in the comment box... I n other ways, we are very different. I am very much into languages and Ahrt, dahlink and my sister is a mathematical genius. Given that I'm pretty sure I have some sort of learning disability when it com...

On Friday, Beth challenged us to go and have some weekend fun and I don't know anything more fun than spending time with my lovies. Remember when they were born ? They are TWO AND A HALF years old now. Dunno how that happened. Janne and John (the Tink Delivery team) drove and the Tinks were cute and thus, responsibilities were distributed fairly. Morgan still appears to have some issues with appropriating Liam's things (his is the frog). At Christmas, she firmly nelieved that possession was 9/10ths of the law . But as can be seen from the look on her face yesterday, now she knows what she's doing. Liam communed with a plant They often instinctively move the same and I was lucky to get a shot of the Tinks investigating the courtyard at my mother's condo. My first attempt at making a movie of the various videos I recorded. Please ignore the shakiness (it's hard to hold still when you're laughing) and the rather rough editing and focus on the cuteness. Yes, Lia...

*Love that song . I watch The Bachelor . Yes, I know. I am a feminist and I watch The Bachelor. It is my guilty pleasure. I am completely unrepentant about the other reality shows I watch, but The Bachelor? It's hard to admit in public. However, it's pertinent to today's post, so I'm hangig my inconsistencies out there. On season that has just wrapped, one of the "contestants" told the guy that she wouldn't be able to love him and be in love with him unless he loved her back. Under the circumstances, that might be a smart thing to say, but it's been rattling around in my head ever since. Because we don't, do we? In any relationship, romantic and otherwise, we don't give our hearts until we're sure it's reciprocated (children hopefully excluded). Until we have a guarantee that it'll "work out". We protect ourselves, build a fortress around our hearts ( thank you, Sting ) and hold it tight, not giving...

Some time ago, I believe I had a little rant about a miniseries called Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee , which chronicled the displacement of Native Americans during the white settlements. Specifically, the rant was about the glossing over or direct alteration of historical facts occurring in the miniseries, which was defended by an HBO VP as “[w]hen we look at historical accuracy, we look at history as it plays in the service of a narrative”. I took issue with that and would link to the post, as well, but have only the vaguest notion that it might have been part of one of my monthly Random posts. Besides, I'd rather use my energy on today's rant. Which is about filmmakers (and authors and TV) and their propensity to mess with reality “as it plays in service of a narrative", rather than making the narrative serve reality. And maybe it's having those blasted university degrees that makes this such a hot button for me, as during those many years of schooling, prof...

Being marginally less pestilent, I have 37 things to do before the Victoria Day long weekend hits (in approximately 4 hours) and have therefore come up with an idea that gets me out of writing something thoughtful and interesting. Today, we're going to pretend even more than usual that we are hanging out with a pitcher of margaritas, cosmopolitans, beer or other beverage of your choice and once we're well lubricated come upon the idea to share entertaining/slightly embarrassing stories about ourselves. With specific emphasis on stress coping mechanisms and although that doesn't sound entertaining yet, bear with me for a minute and it'll all make sense. E veryone has different ways of dealing with stress. I don't mean the everyday kind of stress that gets alleviated by a chocolate bar, rant with a friend, banging your head against the wall (what? Doesn't everybody do that?), slamming a door or sitting quietly by your desk, seething into your afternoon coffee...

Monday was the day for Blogging for CFS/ME (Chronic Fatigue Syndrom/Myalgic Encephalomyelitis), as well as Fibromyalgia Awareness Day and I missed it due to being too pooped to come out and play. I’m sure the irony isn’t lost on anyone. Last week, I was so focused on avoiding an injury that I forgot my body has other ways of making me pay. Enter a nasty sinus infection, Which slowed me down, but didn’t stop me (because apparently, I can't be taught). In retrospect, it was clear that my body was standing with hands on hips, irritably tapping a foot, completely exasperated with my lack of cooperation. So it made my voice go away and as I write using Dragon, which requires talking, that did the trick. Or maybe not, as I’m currently pecking out a blog post the old-fashioned way, using the system of one paragraph, rest, then another. Sensible people among you might wonder why I’m not posting a photograph and calling it a day and I’ll tell you why. Beth wrote about CFS/ME...

By Tuesday evening, it was evident that I was thisclose to hitting the wall. Said wall being that point where I want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head, lie quietly weeping on something cool or, frequently, the point where my body after days of asking nicely, decides to make me sit still, causing a crash of monumental proportions, while it mutters invective and in general disparages my intelligence. Considering the fact that I'm still recovering from the last time that happened, I decided to prove to my body that I do indeed have an IQ larger than my shoe size and am occasionally inclined to use it. Which meant taking yesterday off and prescribing relaxation, yummy food and trashy books as preventative measures. And which was the only reason I didn't cry upon being rudely awakened by my alarm clock on Wednesday morning. S ometime around noon, after a morning spent responding to e-mail that has languished in my inbox for way too long (if you haven...

Today marks the first of my new, monthly column/post for HealthCentral.com . It’s a great website community. There is medical information and expertise - very useful (I’m learning new things all the time) and there’s a large and growing community of people who’ve “been there”, living with various diseases and conditions, sharing advice, opinions and stories about life. I 'm thrilled to be part of the HC team and look forward to raising hell contributing to their content. You can read my first post here .

Ever since she was a wee kitten, all whiskers and hair on a tiny frame, Mojo has considered the hallway on my floor to be the most fascinating place, quickly annexing it to officially be part of her domain. For the last 12 years, almost every time I come home, she shoots out the door the minute I open it. This means she must hear me coming out of the elevator while snoozing on my bed and somehow make it from out cold to wide awake and from bedroom to front door in the two seconds it takes me to travel the distance (I live next to the elevator). And then we walk around in the hallway for five minutes or so while she sniffs what needs to be sniffed and in general makes sure that all is as it should be. You know that expression about something being as "difficult as herding cats"? Every day, I know the truth of that statement, repeatedly opening the door when she comes near it, as she repeatedly ignores it until she's good and ready to go in. O nce, when she was an...

One of the favourite books of my childhood was Heidi , the story of a little girl who lived on the Alm (Alp) with her grandfather (first published in 1880, more here ). I haven't read the book since I was 12 or 13 and didn't remember much more then that. Last weekend, in a fit of nostalgia, I got it from Audible and prepared to settle in for a warm and fuzzy trip down memory lane. Before I continue, a quick caveat. I'm about to discuss major plot points and am assuming everybody has read the book (which may be wrong - North America has an altogether different canon of beloved childhood books than Europe does). As I started reading the book, I noticed that I was very weepy. I'm not a crier, but I do get verklempt very easily. Am a complete and utter mushpot. Anything that remotely pushes that button in movies/TV and real life - dying animals, reunions of lost lovers, special moment spent with a sibling, birth, weddings and all other poignant moments has ...

From Björk's 2007 album Volta , the video of the single Wanderlust . Pretty resource heavy, but worth a watch. Just don’t take any hallucinogens before you do or you might permanently go over the edge. I love the beginning, with the foghorns, seagull screams and sound of water – the influence of Iceland is very much there. I’ve been thinking that a piece of music solely composed of these sounds might be really, really cool. Yes, anything with ocean makes me happy, but really. Watch it and think about it. Am I wrong? Zombie Strippers. A real movie with Robert Englund and Jenna Jameson. Seriously. The trailer had me convinced. Must. See. It!! Helping the Handicapped (link fixed). Hysterical. I just watched part of the news, but turned it off once they started the segment on "what the public thinks", sticking microphones in people's faces on the street. How is this news?? Why are you shortening the segments that contain actual news to all...

I've been sitting on this one for a while, because it's about death and that can be hard to read about. But it's also about life and not just because death is part of life. I saw a link on dooce a little while ago about a project called Life before Death . A German photographer named Walter Schels interviewed people who were dying and photographed them before and after death. If you follow the link, you will see a series of photographs with accompanying stories of the person in the photograph. The Guardian, on whose site Life before Death appears, calls them sombre, but I don't agree. I think they are beautiful. I was 12 years old the first time I saw a dead person. It was my farmor (father’s mother) and the night before, I had woken up a little past three in the morning, crying inconsolably. In the morning, the hospital called to tell us that she had died a little past three in the morning and I was not surprised at all. My mother wanted to go say goodby...

I love my weekends. I guard them with the vigilance of a medieval lord with 11 marriageable daughters and a handsome stable boy. They - the weekends, not the marriageable daughters - are my sanctuary, two days of peace after five of running around. I find my equilibrium again, stop the static buzzing through my mind and it is when I write the most. But it’s writing without stress (usually) and when I goof off, it's without that nagging feeling that I should be working, because most Saturdays and Sundays, by the time I'm ready to sit down with a movie, I already have my word count for the day. It's my time in an isolated cabin (yet with all mod cons and no packing) and usually, I turn into a positive hermit by Friday evening, trying to whenever possible keep socializing to other times. Or at least not both days. My 25-year-old self would be horrified. I like it better than going out. Does that mean I'm getting old? T his past weekend was lovely and I fe...

Spring! Is here!! I'm sorry, normally I'm not a very exclamation point kinda person, but I'm not quite done yet. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ah, that's better. My friend Leslie has finally relented and started up a blog. She's frequently funny, often soulful and I love her writing. Please pop by her Spring Chicken and say hello. The lovely Lynn of the comments is doing a good thing. She's having an auction on eBay with some great-looking vintage knitting books and donating the proceeds to Medecins Sans Frontieres . She wants me to mention that these are for entertainment value only, not in a resale kind of condition, but if you have a hankering for the knit- related (and I know many of you do), like the cause, check it out and consider leaving a bid. p.s. I'm not wearing socks! On April 18! Which may be a record...

It's no secret that since I was a child, I have worshiped Jacques Cousteau, dreamt of working on the Calypso or if I can't do that, then spend a few hours in his company, learning at the feet of a master. After his death a decade ago, it became the dream that would never come true. Except, it sort of has. I n the past month, I've been consumed with reading The Human, the Orchid and the Octopus: Exploring and Conserving Our Natural World , a book written in the last 10 years of Cousteau's life, co-authored by Sysan Schiefelbein and which has taking an additional 10 years to make it to North America. In the book, Cousteau uses stories of his life and career, his inventions and his explorations as springboards for a wider discussion of the impact the human race has had on our Earth. C ousteau starts the book with a discussion of personal risk and public risk, grounding the rest of the book firmly in the philosophical understanding of the factors involved in assessing...

There's been a strange confluence of events. Somewhere between a recent steroid shot (which the Humira needs in order to have the possibility of kicking my state of ability and health past OK), several days worth of massive painkillers due to a seating issue and, I suspect, warmer weather (no drafts = less muscle clench!), sometime this week, I reached a point where I couldn't tolerate painkillers anymore. It's happened as long as I can remember - every now and again, I need to go into "detox" and not take medication for as long as I can. It's as if the painkillers build up in my body and at a certain point, the levels become too high and when I stop taking them, what's already in my body can take me however long the detox time needs to be. In the past, it could be a week, 10 days, two weeks. These days, it's significantly less, but still, it's a sort of reset button in terms of being able to get the same effect for a much lower dose of w...