Saturday, December 31, 2005

i smell burning

happy nearly new year's to you. i have not yet made up my lengthy list of resolutions but i'm sure it will resemble last year's list. with some variation no doubt. i'll make those up in the new year, i resolve to. make your list too.

i'm here in montreal w/ sister & roj -- dish washing and coffee making happening while i dillydally away here at the 'puter. the party last night was v. fun (although i missed the square dancing). lots of people who i haven't seen in 8 million hundred brazilian years. ottawa was a mix of sun and clouds if ya know what i'm saying... S & I went on a cool hike through a winter wonderland. There was lots of snow and it was covered in a sheet of ice. We got a little lost and lay down on the ground. I have taken zero pictures so far on this leg of the trip so I will be sure to post them right away. Oh wait that's a lie. There are pics of snow walk.

Today we'll watch the second half of The Exorcism of Emily Rose (which gave me a decent sized fright last night), then do a wander-round, shop a bit (use xmas giftcards), and prolly get a manicure. I choose hot pink or blood red.

My big long holiday is nearly over. Fuck. I have to finish proofreading this wrestler/christer book before Monday. I think I'll be doing the majority on Monday. So far the guy has eaten a piece of ear he ripped off and popped out someone's eyeball. Hurrah! Go team!

Here's to a new year with ears and eyes firmly attached to one's body.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

live from harbour grace

Good Afternoon. Here I am in Newfoundland. It's Crimbo time. Anne Murray is singing on and on about falling on her knees, or telling us to. Or maybe everyone should. It's so cheery. The big long driveway outside Diane's house is covered in ice and is perfect for skating with your boots on during R's smoke breaks. Sing Sweet Child O' Mine doing the Axel and you'll go backwards. The key to backwards skating. If only I was more familiar with his body of work when I was 6 yrs old and in skating lessons. Woulda been a cinch.

I'm last minute knitting up some arm warmers for Russ and fear that I will run out of yarn. Craptastic. It's a xmas tragedy. Not too many Newfoundland specific things have happened yet. Some of Diane's pals have dropped by and tonight we're gonna read Night Before XMas nfld version. I think we're supposed to put on accents and the whole bit.

Rich needs to do some xmas crafting so back in a flash...


Wednesday, December 21, 2005


christopher monks, a proper blogger who apologizes when he misses one day of bloggin, provides his readers with a blogvent calendar this time o' year. i provide no such added bonus material for my 1.45 readers. I abandon them.

so now i'm back. codfish-agogoland tomorrow. who knows what time the aeroplane leaves? not me. i'm pretending that it doesn't bug me as much as it does to not be the master of my own destiny. i feel like a 12 year old child. Quite capable of taking care of myself but not yet allowed to. What airline? What time? How long is the flight? How many books to bring on the plane? Mysteries all.

here is a list of presents that I have rec'd thus far because that's what chrimbo is all about.
1. from claire: beautious irish cream whiskey fancy and from real and actual ireland that she brought over, the dubliners by james joyce (also from the motherland), another book whose name is the cryptographer and i will be reading it on the plane, a bag of crisps flavoured spring onion which claire knows is my absolute favourite, and a lovely vile of lavendar essence oil whatsit that will bring me great smell-induced happiness.

well that was a lot of typing so no more present announcements yet. i'll save em up and dole em out. that's an added bonus. it's my very own blogvent. if only i could bother to take pictures of me enjoying said pressies. i hate that abbreviation. gives me the creeps.

i think i'll steal one of russ's marlies and smoke it. i hate that abbreviation too. I really am vying for the spot of erin's most negative friend.

and now a poem:

old cup. new cup.
empty cups both.
magically fill with
water and whiskey.

that was more like a crap spell than a crap poem but whatevs.