Meme from P

1. Leave a comment saying you would like to be interviewed.
2. I will then respond with 5 questions that quite possibly could be personal—or not, whatever mood I'm in.
3. Then update your LJ (my page is here on blogger... sooo go with whatever site you like) with the questions I've asked
4. Put these same rules (or something that resembles these rules) with your questions
5. When people ask you to interview them, you will ask them five questions.

From P to me... here goes:

1. Who is your favorite 19th century novelist? And what's your favorite novel by that writer?

Mary Shelley... and solely because of Frankenstein. Love Austen and Gaskell, the Brontes (all three) and Ms. Eliot but Shelley rocked my world with Frankenstein. She takes after her Mom (Mary Wollstonecraft, author of that fabulous tome A Vindication of the Rights of Women) even though she never had the chance to meet her mom and Shelley's a fabulous feminist writer. Yes, Frankenstein is a feminist issue and those who don't get that, suck.

2. You have unlimited funds, time and a babysitter. What restaurant do you take J to, and what meal do you have there?

So there's this amazing little restaurant in Beaulieu-sur-Mer about 30 mins. outside Villefranche on the French Riviera right across from the Residences Eiffel. Ya, that guy who built the tower in Paris. It was his summer home and is now a series of rental suites. Gorgeous view and wonderful digs. Anyhoo, the restaurant is run by a small family, has a fantastic view and it's surprisingly very cheap. They make the best pizza and chocolate crepes I have ever had. Plus they are the friendliest folks. Sure, they yelled at me not to stuff myself with appetizers, but they yelled with love like good Jewish parents. We laughed! They made us feel very at home. Loved the meal we had when J and I were on our honeymoon and would love to go back.

3. If money and logistics were no object, where in the world would you most like to live?

Ooooooh... that's a toughie because there are a couple of places... but I think Villefranche-sur-Mer. It's just a nice pace of life, the French lifestyle. I've loved being there for a couple of weeks at a time and I never missed Canadian life when I was there. It's slower, sunnier (though not hot), full of fantastic art and lots of galleries, beautiful architecture, lots of history and all about the food and view. We rush around here too much. I might miss the snow in winter but I could always nip somewhere cold for the holidays, yes?
London comes in a close second, though. Faster pace of life, great theatre, beautiful architecture... that would be tempting too.

4. Within Toronto, where's your favorite place to go in the summer?

The Island... hands down. But not Centre Island... I love to walk around the streets of the community that lives there. The houses are so beautifully quirky and it's so quiet. Pack a picnic lunch, do a lot of walking and finish off the day with ice cream at the place right by the docks. Sigh.

5. You have a couple of hours to kill. Which Sharpe movie do you watch?

I'm all about eking Hagman time, me. John Tams ( I must have a thing for that name when you realize how close Sweetie's name is to that....) is a hunk (minus that disastrous moustache he is sporting these days.) Love the character and his voice. Jason Salkey as Harris ain't no slouch neither so I'd have to go with Sharpe's Gold even though in terms of the plot, it sucks. Let's face it, that whole story is unnaturally contrived but you do get that long-ish segment of Daniel Hagman shooting for Sharpe's honour in that bet with the twinkie Irish chick. Now the only problem for me is that I also have a thing for Nick Rowe ( See side panel) and he actually did a stint in the series too... so it's a tie with Sharpe's Enemy. Better plot for that one too. Plus it has that amazingly wonderful actor Pete Postlethwaite. Yup. That one's good too.

I knew there were reasons why P and I are friends....

Your result for The Fashion Style Test...

Fashion Artist

52% Flamboyance, 62% Originality, 51% Deliberateness, 32% Sexiness

[Flamboyant Original Deliberate Prissy]



To you fashion is not what they think up in Paris or New York. You follow only your instincts and taste and, admit it, they are far from conventional. Clothes are one of the methods of expressing your personality and being interesting is even more important than being attractive. You pay attention to compose such outfits that would express you best. You tend to shock and though many appreciate your style and originality not many follow in your footsteps. Perhaps your flamboyant outfits are partly meant to hide some of your insecurity but be that as it may, few pass you on the street without looking back. Good job.


The opposite style from yours is Sporty Hottie [Tasteful Conventional Random Sexy].




All the categories: Librarian Sporty Hottie Office Master Uptown Girl/ Boy Brainy Student Movie Star Fashionista Glamorous Soul Fashion Enemy Bar Cruiser Kid Next Door Sex Bomb Hippie Kid Fashion Rebel Fashion Artist Catwalk God(ess)

Take The Fashion Style Test at HelloQuizzy

The Family

Create your own family sticker graphic at pYzam.com

My Kid: The Engineer

TVO is a publicly and government funded television channel here in Toronto and they program some fantastic stuff. Meercat Manor narrated by the wondrous Bill Nighy comes to mind or Prehistoric Park (who needs the Crocodile Hunter when you can do this? And safely too!). Like PBS in the States, they are savvy, fun and very educational!

Recently, their afternoon kid's program called The Space, hosted by some wonderful hip adults (who don't really seem like adults... they seem like kids... which makes them so much more fun for the kids) held a contest for kids to design an Eco-mobile for 6 Superheros, The League of Super Citizens. My little guy got all jazzed because he's very environmentally aware AND he loves designing cars... So was this a match made in heaven!?!

Well...

TAAAA DAAAAA!!!!

He designed a vehicle powered by wind. He drew the blueprint you see before you all on his lonesome, and then, with just a wee help from Mommy (I made the podge for the Papier Mache), he put together, papier mache-ed and painted his very own Super Eco-vehicle (complete with seat belts for safety).

Today, I got the call. Wee Monster has won a second prize digital camera!

GO WEE MONSTER!!!!

We, back down here on the farm, sure are proud of our boy.

Can't wait to see what he designs next....

A Love Letter to Sarah Polley.

Sarah, I've just watched your interview on Sunday Morning on CBC and I'm very impressed. Your work has always impressed me in the past. Your current work impresses the hell out of me.

Thank you for being as smart as you are and true to Canadian and Independent roots. Thank you for being open-minded and willing to say 'no' to fame American-style and finally, thank you for standing up against censorship.

Thank you.

You have just re-affirmed my hope in youth.

Haiku to you too.

In honour of Valentine's Day, my Sweetie sent a few of his very own creations and they were so much fun that I have to share.

Alone, I'm frightened,
But I can take on the world
With you by my side.

Life with you is like
A great meal; long, leisurely
And so fulfilling.

Your presence completes
My soul is lacking without
You are my best friend.

Why do you love me,
When you know I'm such a mess
I'm confused, but glad.

Ok... and my all time favourite:

Your ears ignite me,
An ecstasy of nipples
I worship your knees

When you have a man this wonderful, who needs chocolates???

Let's talk bus.

Sooooo... it's the middle of August, hot as Hades and I'm riding the 5pm bus across St. Clair with my 6 year old and all his camp gear (the streetcars have taken a little break... they're getting brand new tracks with no cars allowed on'em). The bus is old (read: no air conditioning) and packed to the gills (read: hotter than hotter than Hades because of the extra bodies) and then it happens. Someone vacates a window seat and the person in the corresponding aisle seat does NOT move over to make room for another person. So what happens now is that the seat by the window is empty and everyone on this bus is far too Canadian (read: polite) to ask the Schmuck in the aisle seat to move over.

Now Schmuck gets his own private Idaho of space.

Classic passive aggressive behaviour.

I've noticed that this is a trend and, as I'm sure is evident by now, it pisses me off. Wee Monster and I have had lots of talks about this... he doesn't understand why adults behave so selfishly and frankly, neither do I.

C'mon people. You know that the nice thing to do is take the window seat and make room for the next person. Don't give us The Hairy Eyeball and then make us step over your toes with all our crap and make US apologize!

Move on over, make room for the next person. Be NICE! We're all tired in that hot, stinky bus together!

People even try to bogart space this way on empty buses... like they need the extra space!

Be nice, be adult, suck it up and shift your butt!

'Kay.

I'm done.

HAPPY PRIDE WEEK!!!!

It's that wonderful time of year again.

Time to celebrate love and open-mindedness with strong liquor, lots of dancing and a wild and fun parade! Best parade alongside Caribana, if you ask me!

With a full heart and a lot of support for those people just discovering their sexuality,

HAPPY PRIDE WEEK EVERYONE!!!

Let's @#$!!! talk!!!

So, I regularly watch Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares on Food TV here in Toronto. I'm a foodie. What can I say?

And here's the thing: for all that Gordon swears like a sailor caught in the Doldrums, he's a caring guy who is very honest with the people he's helping out. Dare I say it... he's even gentle.

J and I were watching a recent episode where the Chef was a twinkie of about 21 and clearly not experienced enough to be heading up a kitchen. Hell, the poor kid couldn't even muster together a meal for his own parents and grandparents without burning the croutons for the French Onion Soup and under-baking the Lemon Meringue Pie.

Gordon's first experience with this kid involved eating food that had clearly been rotting in the fridge. The cameras, thankfully, did not follow Gordon out the back kitchen door as he went to throw up.

I would have fired the kid. Pronto. Serving rotten food... to anyone... in a restaurant? He'd have been kicked out on his overconfident ass. I'd have sent him packing back to school with his tail between his legs and with a tapestry of intricately woven obscenities following close behind him.

I don't claim to be worthy of being head chef anywhere but, crap, even I can cook a 4 course meal for 24 on Passover without burning anything.

BUT rather than telling the kid to give up and go back to an Ecole de Cuisine, Gordon spent a week training this kid and even got a respectable full evening's service out of him. Yes, the 'fucks' abounded. But fuck, the kid earned them. I was only watching (with an awed expression) and several 'fucks' were emanating out of my mouth.

Unfortunately, despite Gordon's best efforts, this twinkie of a chef went right on back to his old ways as soon as Gordon left, letting food rot in the fridge and dicking off.

Too bad.

That twinkie had a wonderful opportunity to learn from the Sensei.

Fuck.

Confessions of a SQUEEEEEEE-gier

Alright, I realize my credibility is about to be flushed down the... well, it'll be jeopardized, shall we say.

I am a huge anglophile.

Sigh.

There it is.

I both love and laugh at most things British.

I mean, seriously, how can you not laugh at a culture that actually names one of it's towns "Little Wallop"? (Now, I realize as I write this that I live mere kilometers away from a place called Kapuskasing.)

I have an addiction (shall I call it?) to a bevy of wonderful British actors. ( I'm not including the word 'actress'... as the saying goes "I am an actor not an actress. Have you ever heard of a Doctress??")

So, I'm including on the right, some links to some gorgeous men and women (really... seriously drool-worthy). They are extremely talented yet very under-rated actors whose work is worth checking out if you haven't already done so.

The hottie at the top of this post is Toby Stephens. Do yourself a favour and DON'T rent Die Another Day. Uuuuggggh. Bad writing, though nice view of Toby with a sword. But by all means, check out the current version of Jane Eyre.

Now, I'm not usually a Bronte-aholic... Charlotte and Emily write a little too OTT for me but the screenplay by Sandy Welch is amazing.... She's a talented writer who tends to adapt literature extremely well. Her recent version of North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell is a testament to her skills.

Toby brings a lightness to Rochester most actors ignore. Rochester is written as having a certain twinkle in his eye and Toby plays that wonderfully. Usually, Rochester is portrayed merely as brooding. Nice to see the different interpretation.

Toby can also be seen in another Bronte story, Anne's The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. Kinda interesting that the closer in age to Branwell the Bronte sister was, the more violent and schmucky the romantic hero in the story. Coincidence? I think not.

Also check out The Chamomile Lawn (gotta love a writer who discovers her ability in her seventies! You go Mary Wesley!) and the latest version of Twelfth Night. Though it is a couple years old, it's star studded and worth the viewing.

I must just be in a ginger phase because I have a major thing going for Damian Lewis right now too. He's the cutie reading the cookbook on the right. Though most North Americans know him from Band of Brothers, check out, if you can get hold of it, Shakespeare Retold and enjoy Much Ado About Nothing. Incidentally, my admiration also extends to his leading lady in that production, Sarah Parish. Firstly, LORD! that woman is sexy! And secondly, wow, what a performance! Maybe it's that kinda Jean Arthur air about her: cynical but fun.

Damian also played the lead in Keane. Now there's a wonderful performance. In many ways it reminded me of Mike Leigh's Naked. Powerful.


So enjoy the pictures here and check out the fansites. These are actors worth following.

And they're yummy too!

Sigh.

SQUEEEEE!!!!!

My Humblest Apologies...

Life lately has looked a little like Ruff Ruffman on the left there.

In between the preparations for Passover, Easter and my Mom's 60th...uh... 25th Birthday Party, this organizer has been busy!
Suffice it to say, Passover was wonderful. We had about 20 people sitting down to a true Sephardi dinner: Hummos, Moroccan Beef Stew and Chicken Cous Cous among other things! Yum! Oh, and we drank a little booze there. But ya just gotta love a holiday that actually demands you drink at least 4 glasses of wine! ( That's a bottle a person, folks!)

Easter followed close behind ( for obvious reasons... Last Supper and all) and was amazing. Yes, the Easter Bunny visited the wee monster and left all sorts of yummy chocolate treats all over the house. ( Someone wanna explain to this Jew how this ties in with Jesus' resurrection? Oh well.)

Then Mom's B-day party was a blast! Instead of the traditional B-day cake, she had a croque-en-bouche beautifully designed by the guys at our local bakery and scrumptious to boot. We have this fantastic French Patisserie around the corner called Pain Perdu ( French Toast) and oh! what wonderful things Christophe can do with sugar. He and his brother Yannick deserve all the success that will surely come their way. ( If you ever find yourself in Toronto... they're on St. Clair near Christie... trust me... it's worth the visit.)

I also got to check in with a couple of artists that my Mom and Dad have known for years. Ton and Rhea Harting. Ton was an engineer, long ago, but has since become a fantastic photographer specializing in black and white imagery. He's hoping to release a book ( that I've had the privilege to view in advance) of photos from the 50's taken while he was travelling in Europe as a student. Keep your eyes out for his published works... he's incredibly talented. Rhea is a textile artist extra-ordinaire... on a par with Kaffe Fasset, I would say. She spins her own yarns, weaves and knits... beautiful colours, beautiful linens and embroidery. She blows my mind!
Great to connect with such interesting and affable people again.

So, here we are. Hale, hearty and waiting for the next big function.

Yup.

What's next?

I'm ready... go on.

Hit me.

We SURVIVED!

Oooh! What a couple months! Sorry it's taken me so long to blog but we've been busy. Not doing anything special... just the regular: work, getting sick, childcare kinda stuff.

M and my trip to Florida was wonderful! Time spent with my grandfather and his fabulous girlfriend was lovely! My little M swam his heart out... made new friends (see picture) and shopped 'till he dropped. KB Toys, you owe me now. We cleaned out every hot wheel in every store in the greater Fort Lauderdale area. Thanks to M, you'll have a banner financial year.

And now, after a bout with colds and flu, not to mention double pink eye, we are healthy (knock wood it stays that way) and happy!

So all is well.

Yay.

Yum, Damnit!!

I have just had one of the most stressful days of my life.

So, I thought, since I've just lost 70lbs, and for the first time in my life I'm rather pleased with my body shape... that, rather than go upstairs and EAT a gianormous wodge of yummy chocolate, I'd share a couple finds with you.

This place has the yummiest chocolate chili bar I have ever tasted. Going with the notion that if they're good at the chili thing, they're probably good at other stuff, I'm willing to bet that every spice bar they make is a religious experience.

Also check out this site for Chocolate Bark. It's WORTH the drive to Stouffville. (Or like J and I, you can just wait till they show up at the One of A Kind Craft Show here in Toronto.)

And also check out these guys. I purchased a box of their Eclectic Dragee Mix in Gravenhurst (Yes, you read that right... Gravenhurst... don't ask) and it was AMAZING! Problem is, I can't find the damn stuff here in the big smoke.

Oh well. Better for my figure that way.

Big breath.

Repeat mantra: I do not NEED the chocolate. I do not NEED the chocolate. I do not NEED the chocolate. I do not NEED the chocolate.

I just really WANT the chocolate.

Sigh.

I love when P finds these!

You paid attention during 91% of high school!

85-100% You must be an autodidact, because American high schools don't get scores that high! Good show, old chap!

Do you deserve your high school diploma?
Create a Quiz

Have fun!

Whazzup?

Yes, it's been a long time, I know.

And the thing is, I'm really pretty happy right now. Business is good (and I love my work), everyone around me is now, finally, healthy and happy. This year, everyone we know has been getting sick (including the wee monster... Grade 1 kids share nothing but their germs).

It's been a full fall season.

So I guess that's why my body decided to crap out this weekend.

By Friday night, I could've been a double for Kathleen Turner, my voice was so low and scratchy.

We had been invited to T's for a big party. T has a few of these every year and, because we have yet to make it to one, I hear they are fantastic events with wonderful, intelligent people to meet and lots of fun, grown-up conversation. T is a brilliant person. Imagine Noel Coward or Oscar Wilde in Rupert Everett's body and that's my T. He surrounds himself with like minds, so you can imagine what one of these events must be like. But every time we try to go to one of these shindigs, we have some kind of health emergency with M or my parents or the babysitter cancels... something totally sucky happens and we have to drop out at the last minute.

This time, it was my health. And the stinking thing is that for the first time in ages the stars had aligned in just the right way to allow for J and I to go to T's party: My parents, both healthy for the first time in ages, had taken the wee monster for the night, I had no work scheduled for that day so I could rest up and be energetic for T's bash. Yet there I am, Saturday morning, praying that with a little sleep and lots of liquids we could still go.

J laughed. Everytime I opened my mouth it was clear we weren't going anywhere. I finally gave in, towards lunchtime, and called T to let him know.

I'm praying he continues to invite us... we'll make it yet, damnit!

Not with a bang, but a whimper....

So, there I am, nuking broccoli for dinner. It's something I do very often. Broccoli is a staple at our house. We eat it cooked, raw, in the dark, on a train, at our work and on a plane. Thanks, Sam-I-am.

Then, all I hear is 'Pzzzzzzzzt' and the lights go off inside our micro-onde.

Has the power gone out? No. Lights are still on in the house. Let me try re-booting. Unplug. Replug. No dice.

Oh no.

She's dead, Jim.

After 20 years, my cheap $150 microwave has officially bitten the dust. So now we gotta find a new one.

Actually, I'm not griping. This is not a hard task for us because J and I have found probably the best kept secret in Toronto.

Look way up. That's it... way, way up. Past Finch, south of Steeles on the west side. Because there, on Yonge St., is a little appliance store called County Appliances. It's so small, you can easily miss it even though it's covered from door to window frame in appliance adverts.

Once in, you'll feel like you're in a Rare Bookstore. It's cozy, to say the least, and very dusty but the staff are amazing. They know appliances and appliance manufacturers like the backs of their hands. They give honest advice and aren't afraid to tell you which companies do NOT produce the best product. They'll look beyond their selection to find you the right appliance and, deity of your choice rain blessings upon them, they'll even hire people to take apart an appliance and re-assemble it in your basement because your stairway measures a mere 20" across and no known washing machine or dryer is less than 22" across.

Every time we go there, those lovely people chat us up. Not over-chipper, no commissions, just nice, friendly, knowledgeable service.

They don't have a web site and they don't advertise in print or media. They rely on word of mouth. ( They're that good.)

We found a microwave, no problem. It'll be here in two days. Installation no problem and no exorbitant fees.

County, we love you.

We're telling everybody.

Now, everybody, tell your friends.

I'm liking this!

This is me guys:

III - The Empress 94%
XIX: The Sun 69%
XI: Justice 69%
II - The High Priestess 63%
VI: The Lovers 63%
XVI: The Tower 56%
VIII - Strength 56%
I - Magician 56%
XIII: Death 50%
0 - The Fool 44%
X - Wheel of Fortune 44%
IV - The Emperor 38%
XV: The Devil 25%

You scored as III - The Empress.

The Empress is a maternal symbol. She is the mother figure who loves, nurtures and protects. She will protect you, she will always be there when you are in trouble. When you fall over and graze your knee, the Empress will kiss it better. Yet she is not a weak figure. Her compassion is strength. If her children are threatened she will stop at nothing to protect them. If well aspected in a Tarot spread, the Empress can symbolise security, protection and unconditional love. If badly aspected it can represent over-protectiveness, fear of risk taking and refusal to face the real world.

Yup, that's me.

Check this out!

Not just another pretty face....

This thoughtful piece of art on the left, called Self Portrait April, was painted by Viggo Mortensen.

I'm sure you all know him as Aragorn from The Lord of the Rings but let me tell you: this man is not just another pretty face! He's a renaissance man in the true sense of the word.

He speaks several languages, including Spanish, fluently. He's a respected artist as well as being a very talented photographer (as the photo below demonstrates) and poet.

To cap it off, he's extremely friendly and gracious.

AND (allow me to drool just a wee bit here....) I GOT TO SEE HIM IN PERSON!!!!!

J gets tickets to the Toronto International Film Fest each year. A book of ten. He goes to 9 movies and I go to 1.

This year, I chose Alatriste.

For a number of reasons.

First, yes, because ever since seeing Viggo talk politics and art with Charlie Rose on PBS, I have been a fan.
Viggo's a lefty, politically. Yay. He genuinely wants to make the world a better place by viewing it as a community that can provide for all as opposed to seeing it as a competition to see who dies with the most toys.

Second, it doesn't hurt that he ain't hard on the eyes!

Thirdly, I am a huge fan of Dumas and his style of writing.(This statement has relevance... keep reading.)

And lastly, because I'm a sucker for period pieces. Especially ones involving sword fights....

Line ups are long in time and people at the Fest... It helps to have company. I lined up with some amazing friends. One, P, who edits her own music videos and is a master at her art. Her husband, D, who graciously held our place in line for 2 hours while we grabbed the quickest sushi dinner you've ever seen. And a fantastic new friend, S, who, to my delight, shares my love of Canadian Theatre and my lust for many a British Actor (male and female... I believe finding one's soul mate is not dependent on gender).

What a night!

P has tuchas. Bringing along a book of Viggo's Poetry and Art, she had the chutzpah to join the throng on the red carpet and secure an autograph. She has my undying respect for that.

My one chance to get an autograph from an actor I really respected resulted in my going catatonic and drooling. My traveling companion at that function gently released the play program from my hand and offered it to the object of my respect saying "Uhm, she likes you. Would you mind signing her program? Thanks"

We sat in the front row (my head hurts this morning because I strained my eyes being so close to the screen) and when the mike was passed around for the introduction to the movie, the director and cast, very clearly shy of using their stilted English, handed it to Viggo who spoke very warmly of his fellow cast members and the director but said nothing of himself.

Now, of course, I'm biased. But I'm critical enough to know when a movie is poorly done. Not so here.

The entire cast was amazing. Everyone gave riveting performances.

The story very clearly owes most of it's inspiration to Alexandre Dumas (pere). As I'm sure you know, Alatriste is series of books by Arturo Perez-Reverte, author of the extremely successful Club Dumas (Yup, I 'd say he's a fan). The similarities to characters and plot lines from The Three Musketeers are hard to ignore but you never stop enjoying this dramatic romp through 17th century Spain.

And, lovely, sweet, talented Viggo entered the theatre late because he was making sure to sign as many autographs as possible.

Sigh.

Slurp.

In the wee small hours of the morning....

Gonna vent. Will write good stuff in a couple days, I promise, but for now, gonna vent.

A couple of weeks ago, M had the wonderful opportunity to go to a picnic with my Mom. He came back exhausted and hot, but happy. There had been lots of fun games, lots of prizes and the kind of food that makes 5 year olds smile: pizza and Kentucky Duck. He'd had a grand time.

Later that evening, though, we discovered that M's forehead was as hot as Hades. You coulda roasted marshmallows over that sucker, poor kid. My first thought was that Mom had let M dehydrate. Easy to do with an ecstatic 5 year old... but no, Mom kept him covered, hydrated and healthy. What we found out the following day was that M had a wicked case of Strep Throat.

Into sick-mode goes the entire house. No sleep, lots of liquids, regular Tempra at regular intervals and washing hands constantly.

Nothing we can't handle. Sick happens, nu?

J and I are very familiar with this routine and made sure we were careful about our health. Not only because we just didn't want to be sick, but also because we were heading to a cottage that my parent's had rented in Coboconk for 4 days the following Wednesday. Coboconk is quaint and charming. Known for the local diner called The Patty House: World famous in Coboconk! as the sign proclaims. Also known for having Ontario's smallest jail, still... not a place you can find good emergency services.

You see what's coming?

On the drive up to the cottage, no less, J starts to get a fever. A bad one. His breathing is noticeably more rapid. I had taken the precaution of getting a script from a Medvisit Doctor in case I came down with Strep... so... perfect. We stop in Brooklyn, Ontario and try to fill it. Turns out, the @#&%$!!! Medvisit Doctor has prescribed something for me to which I'm allergic. In spite of my repeating manifold times what my allergies were!!! So. This lovely small town pharmacist is taking her time explaining to me how dangerous this potentially is and how unsure she is as to whether to fill the script. I can't tell her the medication will be used for someone else... then she won't fill it at all. Like a drug addict, I'm tapping my toes impatiently trying to convince her that I'll take the risk... just fill the damn thing!! I gotta sick man in the car, honey, and two more hours of driving ahead of us before I can get him into a bed... hurry the fuck up!

Poor, sweet J spent pretty much the entire time at the cottage in bed.

Plus, the antibiotic didn't work because, as it turned out, he didn't have Strep... he had Hand, Foot and Mouth disease. Where that came from , who knows. It was something we discovered days after our return to the city. Something that is also very contagious for the entire time it is present in it's victim.

This household has been disease free for 1 day now but I'm still washing my hands like Lady Macbeth.

And now, summer is officially over and M begins school in 2 days so life gets...more hectic???

Oy.

A little something after a LOOOONG weekend....

Yup. J and I had to attend a family wedding last night.

It's been a long time since I've sat down with my family and, unfortunately, I was brutally reminded why last night.

It's the typical Jewish wedding complete with Chupa and Hora. The Bride and Groom are lovely, young, exceedingly gracious and full of impatience to begin their new lives.... The Groom's friends, slap each other on the back laughing loudly at memories of times gone by (usually things that happened a mere month or so ago). The Bride's friends, looking like cookie cutter images of one another, fuss over the Bride's meringue dress and coiffed hair. The family take every opportunity to enjoy the mediocre quality food and dance to the poor schleps who have been hired to play covers of bad 80's disco (that's redundant, isn't it... Sorry) during the meal.

Now there's an extremely thankless job, if you ask me, to watch other people eat while you try in vain to amuse them and then watch as a phenomenal number of them display their lack of rhythm.

My young cousins, the ones actually getting married, were lovely, gracious and happy. Mazeltov to them both.

The people J and I sat with... That's another story. My Uncles and Aunts... People I do not particularly get along with. They can be among the rudest, loudest and shallowest people in the room. My mom was clearly the black sheep of the family and for that I am eternally grateful. I tend to get very quiet in their presence and, I suspect, they believe I'm being aloof. I'm not trying to be aloof. I just have nothing to say to them. My small talk sucks and there's no chance of entering more profound conversation since we hold diametrically opposed political views. (When this has been attempted, I assure you, tempers flared.)

My mom is currently dealing with a not-so-little disagreement that has been ravaging these family relationships for the past 4 years. I know the details and I'm afraid, in this instance I've decided not to be the peacekeeper that she is. I told her that if one of them said just one little insensitive thing last night, my plan was to verbally annihilate them. Though I'm younger than the youngest Uncle by 11 years, I usually behave like the grownup and keep my opinions to myself... Not any more. The behaviours last night, though quiet (for a change), exemplified why I don't choose to hang out with my family. What wasn't spoken was often louder and more in your face than what was. While I'm thankful that they kept their mean spirited comments to themselves, rendering my little plan for open verbal hunting unnecessary, it was still rather astonishing to see little civilities ignored. It was so silly (Truly there was no better word for it... Silly)! My Uncle E snubbed my simple 'hello' and then darted me a look of anger when my Father moved to sit beside me gently pushing aside my Aunt L, E's wife. I feigned astonishment. Such a small thing... Such powers of offence.

It's true. You can't pick your family. You can, however, choose who you hang out with. Thank the deity of your choice for that.

J and I sat quietly, mused to ourselves about the Barnum and Bailey nature of the event, ate, and then made a quiet and quick escape.


I really needed something light this morning. Thank you immensely, P, for the lovely pick me up from your Blog...

Go here and look through random quotes until you find 5 that you think reflect who you are or what you believe. Repost in your journal and see if anyone else wants to play. (You may need to refresh a few times to find enough.)

Here are mine, guys (Remember that they may be tempered by how I'm feeling about last night's events):

It was such a lovely day I thought it a pity to get up.

W. Somerset Maugham (1874 - 1965)

Making duplicate copies and computer printouts of things no one wanted even one of in the first place is giving America a new sense of purpose.

Andy Rooney (1919 - )

I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.

Margaret Thatcher (1925 - )

I don't know if God exists, but it would be better for His reputation if He didn't.

Jules Renard (1864 - 1910)

One reason I don't drink is that I want to know when I am having a good time.

Nancy Astor (1879 - 1964)