Nov 30, 2009

A Lesson in Clarity

How strange.  A letter from my 80-year-old self, to my current self: 

Dear Me,
               Hello there younger self!  I am writing to you today because through spacetime continuum, I have noticed some things about you that I don't particularly care for.

First, you need to learn how to relax dear.  That butt clenching 'pickle-up-the-ass' analogy?  Not a fetching one, but one that suits you immensely.  Also, where's the fire sweetheart?  You'd think that at the pace you walk everywhere that the world was coming to an end soon! Ha! It's not dear, so just relax.  We don't want fine lines and wrinkles when we are 40 do we?  So just take a deep breath and chill.

Another thing though?  You need to quit your job ASAP.  When something sucks the life out of you daily, the way that your job does?  Not conducive to that smooth face we talked about.  But honestly, what are you so afraid of?  Following your real dreams?  It would be a damn shame to waste your life on 'should haves'.  You have never been concerned with doing things the 'normal' way, so why are you now?  Throw caution to the wind, be scared.  It will inspire you to work towards your goals that much harder.  Do you think I bought the villa in Paris by being mediocre?

You need to slow down.  Nobody gets to where they want to be quickly.  Only when they arrive are they swept through the door and lost in the whirlwind of their dreams.  So take your time.  You are only 29, and have plenty of your life left to get to where you want to be.  If you don't slow down you are going to miss the good stuff that is happening now, and you will only be able to focus on the negative.  Because that's all you will know.

Take risks.  It's what life is all about.  Now if you'll excuse me, jumping out of a plane sounds like a lovely way to spend the afternoon, no?

Love always,
Kato

Oh wow.  Also strange.  A letter from my 8-year-old self: 

Dear Me,
          Wow.  You are 29.  That's really old.  I bet your butt is crazy droopy and your boobs touch your knees right?  I mean, you are only a couple of years younger than our mom.  Ew.

These days I like to play with Ninja Turtles and ride bikes.  Do you like to do that still?  The only thing I really thought hard about today was if I was going to get in trouble for skinning my knees when my friend and I rode doubles and fell over.  It was really fun.  And the scab is cool too.  Do you have any scabs?

Grown up talk really bores me.  I mean, gag me with a spoon.  I never want to grow up if it means my life is going to turn into a boring dumb thing where all I talk about is boring stuff and money.  Relax, I got it covered already! Yesterday I went to the candy store and bought a gajillion tear jerkers for only two dollars!  Tomorrow I am going to school to sell them for ten cents each and that's like...who really cares anyway? As long as I can buy more tear jerkers and play Double Dragon at the arcade on Saturday.

Well, I am going to go and sit in a tree and read until I get hungry.

See ya,
Katitoes

Man.  Clearly my 80-year-old self and my 8-year-old self have their heads screwed on right.  At least they have their priorities straight.  Skydiving and Double Dragon, sounds good to me.

Murphy's Law

Today started out as pretty fantastic.  Actually, today started yesterday when I made the fantastic plans for today.  Make sense? I apologize if this entire post does not make sense, but today, my life did not make sense.  Alright fine.  I am being melodramatic.

The plans that Dave and I had for today were for having a fun adventure albeit a practical one as well.  Fun because I wanted to go and pick up some Christmas-y decor, and practical because while we were doing that I could pick up some other things I needed. 

So I suggested that we go for breakfast and then head to Wal-Mart.  Even though I go to Wal-Mart, it does not mean that I like it.  I sort of despise it to be honest with you.  But I feel like I am trapped because they have what I need all in one place.  And they have the 10-foot smile rule.  Only everyone just wants to secretly harm all the customers in the store.  I know, I used to work there.  Stupid corporation.

Breakfast is always exciting on Sunday's (and sometimes Saturday's) because we go to the same breakfast place every time.  It is a delicious place that serves only organic dishes, and their eggs are to die for.  As well as their lattes.  I am extremely lactose intolerant (and am too lazy to take the pills) but I suffer for those lattes.  We ended up getting there at 20 minutes to 4, which is when they close, but they were sweet enough to serve us anyway.  I know! Breakfast at 4PM! It's just how we roll.  Sunday's are L-A-Z-Y days in the Kato/ Dave residence.  Anyways, because we did not want to be rude, we wolfed down our food as quickly as we could so that they could lock up and get home.  That was the first bump in the road.

When we left our breakfast place, it started to rain.  Great.  Nothing like walking to Wal-Mart (or hell on earth if you will) in a cold rain.  So we decided to buy a day pass and take the bus.  Now here is where the next bump comes along because folks, I HATE THE TTC.  If it was a nice day, we would have just walked the 45 minutes to and from and been perfectly happy.  But Dave has these old converse, and they leak and give him super soakers, and nothing sucks more than dirty Toronto water squishing around in your socks.  So the bus it is.  Because we couldn't really catch a bus anywhere near where we wanted to be, we ended up having to walk for a while anyway.  In that time, I don't think a bus passed us by.  If we hadn't of walked the amount that we already had, we would have been standing in the rain anyway, only not getting anywhere.  And I don't like that.  I would much rather be moving.  So we finally got to a bus stop that was acceptable to wait at (even though it had no shelter), and to pass the time, I blew Dave's mind with my rendition of November Rain.  I got so into singing the song that I am sure the people driving by were enjoying the show.  My dance moves were unlike any other ever danced before and my air guitar was on par with the greats.  Only all that moving and shaking was disrupting the contents of my stomach giving me a really horrible belly ache.  Oh yeah!! That's why we shouldn't vacuum food into our stomachs!  Another bump.

We ended up waiting fifteen minutes to get on a bus, only to be on it for 30 seconds while it turned a corner where the driver told us all to get out and wait for another bus.  What the eff?  Did I mention that I hated the TTC?  I live on the west side of Toronto and I am pretty sure that we are a forgotten bunch over here when it comes to transportation.  The service is deplorable. 

So again, that whole moving thing is eating away at me.  So I tell Dave that it would be faster just to walk the rest of the way.  So that pass we bought for $9.00? Yeah, only used it for 30 seconds.  Awesome waste of money.  Crappy bump again.

Enter Wal-Mart.  Well, I don't even have to explain to you guys do I?  Wal-Mart, on a Sunday, around the holidays.  But I did end up getting really fun things!! Garland with holly, a set of lights for the window, a pretty glass vase to hold ornaments in, some scented candles and a reed diffuser for the bathroom.  I also bought THE neatest wall embellishments for super cheap!! Long bamboo branches that creep up the wall, in wallpaper form.  Only not a full sheet of wallpaper, just the paper branches themselves are sticky.  And they go directly on your wall and are easy to peel off.  Genius!

I also needed a replacement zipper for my winter jacket, some stickers because they are fun, and a cross-stitch.  The cross-stitch will come in handy for the week coming, and I will tell you why in a second. 

So we get home and I am happy that the adventure is over and I can start decorating.  Only the bamboo wall embellishments were a bit more difficult to put up than I had thought, I could not for the life of me get the lights to go up in the window, I discovered that one of my cats had peed on the floor, and I only had one beer to drink throughout the whole process.  Have mercy!!

But, it all ended up getting done in the end.  With only one instance of me having to sit on the couch and count to a hundred.  And now I am happy that my apartment looks festive and beautiful.  BUT, the worst part of this whole day was when I discovered that the writing course I am taking has forbidden me from reading for a whole week.  And I mean reading ANYTHING.  Books, websites, blogs, newspapers, anything that has words.  I can't even watch television because the whole point is to make me sit in silence and concentrate on nothing, and reading and television only work to pull my brain in a million different directions.  Hence, the cross stitch.  It will allow me to focus, to sharpen my thoughts into one coherent direction while busying my hands doing something enjoyable and mundane.

So I guess, my lovely blog friends, I have to listen to this crazy person if I want to say that I gave this course a shot with my entire being, because I do want to do that.  It has been pretty amazing so far.  I will write more about it when I am finished with it, because it has been an extremely emotional journey for me up to this point.  If you want to read about the 12 week course, click here. 

It is pretty much going to kill me a little that I cannot stay updated on all of your blogs this week, but exciting because I will put aside my Sunday to get all caught up.  It will be a glorious day of reading all the blogs I love and look forward to reading on a daily basis.  I will still be here writing away, because I am allowed to do that at least, so you will see me around, but I won't be able to comment back to your comments that I so appreciate.  Don't worry though! I will get back to every single one on Sunday!!  Ugh, this is going to be very hard for me.

Creative epiphany, here I come!

Everyone take care!

Nov 29, 2009

Fear

So what's the deal with people who collect dolls?  I mean, I don't think there is anything wrong with it per se, except that I find it pretty effing terrifying.  I am not talking about the pretty dolls that people keep locked behind curio cabinet doors (although, those are pretty scary to me as well), but the old, decrepit dolls that look like they have crawled out of a grave somewhere, trying to find the little girl or boy that once loved and cuddled them.

 Honestly? I am sure that those teeth were not originally shoved into the doll's mouth like that, but alright.  An interesting approach.  I sure hope that someone gave their child this doll, and that the kid lived a normal life with no fear of floating anywhere.  Especially 'down here'.

The fear of dolls is called pediophobia.  Many children exhibit this fear when a parent hands them a doll, and they have not yet learned how to separate fantasy from reality, and believe the doll to be a real person.  A silent little person that will kill them in their sleep if they don't remain vigilant and sleep with one eye open.


I, myself, have a debilitating fear of clowns.  It started, I believe, when my mother hung a clown that was sitting on a little swing directly across from where I lay in bed at night.  I would lie awake staring at this thing until it took on a life of it's own and I would scream for my mother to take it down.  I have since learned that my fear comes from the fact that they paint their faces.  WHY? This scares me.  I feel like they have something to hide.  Like razor blades hidden under their tongues and poison candy in their pocketses.


I used to have a recurring dream when I was little that there was a clown hiding under my bed and a ghost in my closet.  In the dream I would be sitting on my bed, terrified as the clown grabbed a hold of my legs and the ghost my arms, each trying to pull me into their own lair, to make child pies out of my soft body and necklaces out of my teeth.  It didn't help that whenever I walked into the room that my sister and I shared she would scream "Look Katherine!!!!! There's a clown under the bed!!! Oh my god he is about to grab you run quick!!!!".

Seriously though, what a ho.

What's your biggest fear?

Nov 28, 2009

Tuesday November 14th, 2006

I walked into the cold air.  Instantly my nose wrinkles upwards, the tiny hairs inside crackling and contracting, feeling frozen and inept against the cold.  The feeling I have is one of comfort.  I know that behind me, my house is warm and comfortable.  I take pleasure in the fact that my errand will not keep me out in this frozen landscape for long.  Even though it is beautiful outside.  The air is crisp and the night is clear and still.  It is warm enough to snow.  I can smell it, and the condensation on the windows I pass signify the damp chill of outside mingling with the warmer temperatures inside.

As I walk, I notice the silence.  In a city this size, the hustle and bustle of life becomes muted, slower the first few snowfalls.  Only when the white turns to muck and slush do things return to normal.  Noise reasserts itself and people move along quickly; those who live in the city try to get out of the slush and crowds of Christmas shoppers and touristss, and the tourists themselves wander around looking slightly confused and happy.

I turn down a quiet side street and the snow looks untouched.  The street lights are scarce and therefore it is darker here, but at the same time the snow makes everything glow, diffusing it's own light and presence onto the objects it blankets.  My footfalls are barely audible.  When I was young I used to walk slowly, listening carefully to the crunchy, crumbling sounds my footsteps made, and pretend I was Indiana Jones, alone in a cave.  I do this now, and no other sound is heard.  The air is heavy and dense.  I reach the end of the quiet, fairytale-like street and turn the corner, into the bright lights and shuffling feet of the business men and women who are arriving home late, who all have tired eyes. 

Nov 26, 2009

Ghosts N' Goblins: Review

Even though this game is almost 25- years-old (gah!! That makes me feel really old) it is still ranked as  one of my all time favorite video games ever.

Released in 1985 by Capcom for video arcades, this platform game has been ranked as the most difficult to be released in video game history.  You are only given two chances to be hit by whatever zombie, or flying bone bird thing, or ape-like ogre that comes your way, and you lose a life.  Once that life is lost, you are returned to the beginning of the level (soooo frustrating) or the middle of the level if you were lucky enough to make it that far (Wikipedia).



The game only has 6 levels, but I promise you each level brings you any amount of joy, difficulty and controller-biting anger that say, Punch Out conjurs up, even in the most temperate of individuals.  You, the player, control a knight named Arthur, who must fight their way to a purple-headed demon guy to save Princess Prin Prin, who has been kidnapped by a minion demon in the graveyard where they are hanging out.  Along the way, many a zombie and malevolent spirit are thrown your way, seemingly rising from the ground or descending from the dark sky at random, and quickly.  Arthur must dodge, shoot, jump, and duck, to make sure he stays out of harms way.  This sounds easy enough right? Except that being a platform game, one can logically deduct that a lot of your jumping and landing are from, and on to, platforms.  Sometimes these are the size of a regular walkway, sometimes smaller than your character.  If not timed just right, you lose sucker! 

Weapons are few in this game.  You begin with the lance, which is pretty standard, except fairly slow when you are trying to kill things.  Since this game relies heavily on speed, one would have better luck with the dagger.  Smaller, more light-weight I assume, Arthur is able to throw these quickly and efficiently.  Although, my question is, once you lose your armour and are only in your boxer shorts Arthur, where do you hide all of those daggers?  You are able to throw fireballs as well, but these SUCK.  Slow and not even remotely accurate, these flare up in a pathetic resemblance to real fire.  Try to avoid these.  I have also heard that there are axes and crosses that are used as weapons but I never made it that far in the game to use them.  That's right people.  I have never beat the game.  But I did find the secret of the frog!! Have you?



When I think about how awesome this game truly is, I get excited.  It is almost like a puzzle that needs to be solved.  A very, very hard puzzle.  But it's the challenge that makes this game so good.  Once you have learned the right sequence for a section, it will never fail to bring you one step closer to the end.  And the end is oh so spectacular! With the grainy graphics and a kiss from the Princess, you are left with these final words of wisdom:

Congratulation
This story is happy end.
Thank you.

Oh right.  The clincher: once you waste the last boss in the game, you are placed back at the beginning again.  Meaning, in order to FOR REAL be able to say that you beat the game, you have to play it twice. 

Have fun with that.

Watch a speedrun of the game below and have an amusing time playing this awesome game!



This story is happy end.  Thank you.

Nov 25, 2009

All I Want For Wednesday Is...


The rain to go away.
Cold rain makes me want to crawl
inside my skin and hide.

Since I can't do that, I will do this:














And be warm under this:



 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

I hope if it's cold where you are tonight, that you are somewhere inside and warm!

I Used To Have Millions of Little Friends.

Talking on the phone to my sister last night, she told me that one of her friends who had gone to the Dominican Republic came back with Giardia.  For those of you who don't know what Giardia is, it is a parasite that one gets from drinking contaminated water.  Contaminated with HUMAN FECES.  Feces my friends, is a nice word for SHIT.

It reminded me that at one point in my life, I also had Giardia, otherwise known as Beaver Fever.  And since I like feeling like a redneck sometimes, this is what it will be called throughout the rest of this post. 

Let's begin my story with a flashback: I remember a story that my father told me about his youth in Macedonia.  He was very poor and did not have much, but he did have an abundance of nature.  He would get a far off look in his eye when he talked about swimming in the Danube River, and he would make me wish I was there when he described how the water tasted that flowed from the mountains.  Clear and cold and delicious.

This is where the ROOT of my problem was born.  Because the thought was born in my obviously gigantic brain as he told this story was that ALL moving water is ok to drink.  Who's with me on this one, right?  But alas,  if I was put on this earth for one thing only, it's to tell you that this is a crotchety falsehood.

Nov 24, 2009

The Natural Essentials: Acne Prone Skin Care

I learned long ago that my skin is very, VERY finicky.  When I would put a store bought product on it, it would kick and scream and throw a temper tantrum so loud that people in the next city would hear it.  They mistook the sound for thunder and hail, but no, it was my face acting up in protest.

So I pretty much had no skin care regimen all throughout my teens and into my early twenties.  I was one of those people you hated: perfect, blemish-free skin.  My skin glowed.  I never wore any make-up because well, I didn't need to.  Strangers would stop me on the street and ask my face for it's autograph.  Sincerely.  And then I turned twenty three and BAM!!! Acne prone skin came to visit and decided it was here to stay.  Great.  Adult acne.  I mean, I know I had it easy as a teenager, avoiding all the teasing from mean bullies about something that teenagers couldn't help, but man.  Adult acne? I had watched my sister experience it at the exact same age a few years before me, and I knew how frustrating it could be.

So, I tried everything.  Every product out there that promised me it would clear up my acne IN JUST ONE USE!  And my old friend the skin screamer would rear it's ugly face and protest and throw insults out into the world in the form of redness and dry skin.  Nothing worked for me.  Now, keep in mind: I am very lucky.  My breakouts are never that bad, and I have learned what my face loves, what nourishes it and doesn't strip it down to it's naked bits a few layers down.


You may have deducted at this point that I only use natural products on my skin, and I am telling you, they work.  Here is my daily skin regimen:

In the morning before I apply my makeup, I wash my face with cool water, and  after drying apply a thin layer of apricot kernel oil.  I know! Oil right??? You would think that if you already had an oily face that adding more oil to it would make it break out.  It doesn't at all.  It works so much better for me under make up.  You will find that your concealer will spread evenly and won't streak, and the oil seems to just disappear as it is very light.

For your nighttime regimen, use these tips for an amazing at home facial (stop thinking perverted thoughts Katherine, stop thinking perverted thoughts).  Try to stick to this every night and you will notice that your face is gorgeous, free of redness, and best of all, clears up your acne.

-Pour a tablespoon of olive oil into your palm.  Do not wash your face first.  Gently massage the oil with the tips of your fingers all around your face, paying attention to your problem spots.  Massage for 2-3 minutes.  Let stand on your face for 5 minutes.

-While you are waiting for your olive oil to soak into your pores and extract all the yuck, dip a clean wash cloth into hot water.  As hot as you can stand.  Keep in mind that the trick is not to scald your face, just steam it to open your pores.  Drape the washcloth over your face and let cool.  Gently drag down your face, removing the olive oil.  Rinse in hot water and apply to your face again.  Continue doing this until all oil has been cleared from your face.  Do not scrub!

-Now, to close your pores, you will need to use a toner.  In a regular sized jar or bottle, mix tea tree essential oil and water together.  My bottle is a sake bottle, so half the size of a coke bottle.  I use around 20 drops of oil, and the rest cool water.  Soak a cotton ball or cotton pad and gently apply all over your face.  Let dry.

-And now for the moisturizer.  Just a simple aloe vera and olive oil mixture will work wonders to moisturize your face, clear up redness, and heal any blemishes.  You can buy pure aloe vera gel (unscented) from any beauty care store, as long as it is pure.  Mix in your palm with a few drops of olive oil and apply.  Or, if you have an aloe plant, use the juice directly from the plant mixed in with the olive oil.  You can make a little lip balm sized jar of this and keep it in the fridge for up to three days.

And there you have it.  If you were ever interested in using natural products on your face instead of ones that have chemicals that may harm your delicate tissues, use these at home mixtures.  Or, if you love your current product and don't want to fully switch to a natural recipe, just give it a try on a Sunday evening, to rest your skin from the product it is used to.  It is relaxing, and it makes your skin feel soft and clean.

There are so many other natural products you can make at home with items in your fridge or stored away in your cupboards.  Be creative! Do some research and see which product you like best, and which ones are fun to make.

Enjoy!

Nov 23, 2009

Oh Dear, Kato

A co-worker and I were talking about coffee shops in our area, and the topic of when I worked at Second Cup came up.  I worked there for a few years, and this particular cafe is situated almost directly across the street from the office I currently work at.  Meaning, I used to serve the people who work there and I would roll my eyes at them daily in my snotty, coffee shop worker kind of way.  And they STILL hired me a few years later. Fancy that, they must have been experiencing blinding black outs every time I served them because folks, I hated my job sometimes. 

The topic that was of particular interest regarding that job was my old boss.  He was kind of a pushover.  When homeless people would come in off the street he was totally cool with us giving them free cups of tea.  At the end of the day if there was any food left over, it was theirs.  So I suppose the word got out through the grapevine that this particular Second Cup was the place to be for people in need.  And mostly, it was cool.  But sometimes we had to deal with unsavory characters, ones who would shoot heroin in our bathroom and crap on our chairs because they were so drunk they had no idea what was going on in the world of bathroom etiquette.  Yes, you heard me.  They would drop the kids off if you know what I mean.  On our chairs.  I mean, I felt bad for them too, so I never had the heart to yell at them and tell them to leave.

But I had no problems yelling at my boss.  It was just a day in the life to hear me yelling from the back room "YOU clean that shit up! It's your store and you don't pay me enough!".  And he would.  Because he knew I was right.  Whenever there was a particularly disgusting mess to be cleaned up it was his job.  He would hum and haw and try to get one of us to do it, but we were stubborn and he knew it that no amount of sighing pathetically would get us to do it for him. 

But even though he had no backbone, there was still the case of the INCIDENT.  This was an occasion that involved me, the safe, and my life flashing before my eyes. 

Nov 21, 2009

Window

The light is fading as I write this.  It is only 4PM and I am here, wrapped in blankets and the comfort of my old bedroom.  No one is here and the house sounds lonely; sleeping away the hours until it's threshold is crossed once again by familiar feet and lights are turned on, illuminating rooms, warming things up again with life.

A bed, not my old bed here in my parents house, points towards the window.  A window that frames a piece of the world for me, one where I have watched the seasons change for many years.  Today I can see the sky; it is a beautiful bruised blue, dark and dreary and resting like a blanket over the houses and people below.  Under the darkening sky colors seem brighter.  A garage door down the street is a bright robin's egg blue; the grass is still far too green for mid-November, as if it is trying to hold on to a last semblance of summer.  Numerous trees reach their bare branches towards the sky, seeking a blanket of snow to cover them in their slumber.

There is an unexpected orange hue to everything.  The sun is trying to punch its way through the thick cloud cover.  It admits defeat and retreats, allowing darkness to descend, heavy.  A dampness has set in, confusing bodies into being too warm on the surface but cold inside their bones.  Nothing stirs, the only knowledge of a breeze from a discarded spider web, laden with leaves and sticks, blowing it's weighted silk in the Autumn air.

Cold will soon find it's way into this evening.  It will wrap the darkness in it's frigid arms and squeeze the warmth of the day out of it.  And I might still be here, engulfed in many blankets, staring out the window at this dark piece of the world.

Nov 18, 2009

What Does It Mean To You?

I am a writer.

I don't know if you understand how hard it is for me to say that.  It's something new I am trying out, calling myself a writer.  But my question is, why is it so difficult for me to utter those words?

Society today is all about labels.  You are what you do.  But throw in the rest of life and where does that fall into the equation?  It's like a puddle: always rippling, sometimes trembling, getting bigger or smaller, but always changing.  A puddle will not stay a puddle forever, it will grow by adding more water to its core, or it will dry out and eventually evaporate into the heavens if left to lie out in the sun, all by it's lonesome.  But at it's core, it is still just a puddle.

Writing to me is like that puddle.  At my core, I am a writer.  I have never thought to 'label' myself as such because I felt silly to say it.  And again I ask, why?  Because I have never been paid for it? Because it is not my 'job'?  Or is it because I would think people would ask me where I have been published and I would not have an answer for them?  I wake up everyday and I go to my job where I work in accounting.  I do not ever call myself an accountant.  A few years ago I worked at a Second Cup, I never called myself a barista.  I never called myself these things because these are not things that I wake up in the morning for.  I wake up to be able to write.  I wake up to be able to add more water to my little puddle, to watch it grow and spread it's drops, making it ever larger, to catch in the wind and mist the world with what is at my core.  That mist may one day turn into rain, hell, maybe even a downpour.  Because I am a writer.

I am not one for labels.  But I believe they are important when you are telling someone what you DO.  My response for the past few years to the question 'What do you do?', has always been, "I work in accounting".  Lately I have changed that by responding sheepishly with, "I am a writer first, but I work in accounting as like, my job".  But my job is to let people know that my passion in life is for writing, and therefore that is what I do.  I owe that to myself and to my passion.  Only when I start believing this and saying it with confidence will people believe in me, because I am showing them I believe in myself.

Be your passion, and the rest will follow.   I guess the one good thing about labels is that they allow you to be whomever and whatever your heart desires in this life.

Just don't fake it, and you will be.

All I Want For Wednesday Is...

To see Aurora Borealis.  How magnificent would that be?  One day, I will.




Nov 17, 2009

Don't Read This Over Lunch

Being sick.  It is definitely one of those things that is dreaded, and in my case, sometimes welcome.  Dreaded of course, because who wants to be sick?  If you do, you are sick yourself.  In your head.  And welcome because when I am sick seems to be the ONLY time in my life that I am able to take a vacation from LIFE.  I force myself to rest, and I force myself to sleep.  It's crazy that there have been times in my life where I have wished for a broken arm or leg, only to be able to sleep, in a hospital bed, and have everything brought to me.  This coming from someone who broke her shoulder and collarbone; believe me when I say I know how much that shit hurts.  Maybe I have the mental sickness.

Spending all that time lying in bed gives you a lot of time to think.  And one of my thought threads led me to think about all the times I have had to clean up barf in my life.  Yes, this post is about barf.  If this grosses you out the door at all, please, stop reading.  But if you are interested in reading a funny story about barf and barfing, please continue.  WARNING: I might use the word 'chunks'.

Nov 16, 2009

The Age-Old Age Gap Question

What ever happened to not being able to help who you fell in love (or lust) with?  A romantic notion that seems to have fallen into obscurity these days, what with relationships being all over the spectrum, not easily definable, and definitely no longer easy.

Things seemed so easy a generation ago: you met your high school sweet heart, you fell in love, you got married.  At least the 'good girls' did.  Take my mother for example:  she skipped into my fathers' heart when she was just 15 years-old and he 24.  And it was romantic.  No one thought it weird.  No one talked behind their backs.  It was just accepted.  My mom's friends thought she was super cool and that my dad was a dreamboat.  It was because it was known back then that my father would make an honest woman out of my mother one day, and it was known this because he was nine years older than she was, and ready to be a married man.

Now, this kind of relationship is illegal.  Not so much romantic as it is looking to spend some time behind bars, getting an 'I Heart Mom' tattoo by a guy named  Tiny.  But just when does age become a problem?  When two people are consenting adults, why is it a problem at all? Gone are the days of marrying the first person you fall in love with, and in marched a new way to be in a relationship: a devil-may-care attitude that both men and women alike are supposed to be allowed to share in today's society.  Supposed to be.  As in, looks good on paper but not in reality.

Nov 15, 2009

I'm Back. I Think.

Hello blogosphere! How I have missed you!  First off, I wanted to say thank you to all my awesome blog friends who wished me well in my sick journey.  And what a journey it was.  Not just for me, but for the Dave/ Kato household.  We still are only kind of resembling something human, but slowly things are getting back to normal.  Well, for me at least.

Saturday found Dave and I looking forward to the day.  It was a gorgeous day outside (by the way, what is with this freaky weather?  We live in CANADA for crying out loud!)  and we were looking forward to maybe going out into the world and enjoying a bit of warm sun on our pale, pale faces.  So we decided to go to our favorite breakfast  place, what with it being a two and a half minute walk down the street.  So we got dressed, we brushed our teeth for the first time in days, and it seemed like every effort we made felt great.  We commented on how it was so wonderful that we were able to go outside and have a good breakfast.  Really, we were on top of the world.

Our moods were lifted even higher when we stepped outside and were bathed in the Spring-like sunshine.  It was so beautiful out that store owners had their doors open out onto the street, and people were sitting on benches smiling, commenting on what a lovely day it was.  We were floating on air! This was the greatest sick comeback in history! 

Nov 14, 2009

Drawing A Blank Here

So, we have been knocked down with some sort of sickness here at the Kato/ Dave residence.  Not sure what it is but Dave was pretty bad on Thursday night and I followed suit.  I am not near as sick as Dave, but I think I am fighting whatever he has and the fighting has taken me out.  Not to mention taking care of the poor guy.  I just want him to get better!

I wanted to leave you with a list of things that I have learned over the last few days, of being sick:

  1. Don't tell your partner that you think they are dying.  Probably doesn't help anything to say that.
  2. Don't eat popcorn when you are not feeling well.  I am here to tell you that it does not make you feel better.
  3. Campbell's Thick and Chunky Vegetable Beef soup is not that tasty.  I felt like I was a horse licking a block of salt.
  4. Make sure you have DVDs stocked of movies or shows you have never seen before.  It makes a person feel so much better to lie there and rot while watching previously un-viewed material.  At least I think it would.  We don't have anything we haven't already watched.
  5. And this is the # 1 great piece of advice I can give to you world: Don't try to pour out a spoonful of Buckley's when you are lying down in bed.  It will end up all over the bed and you will have to lie in goo and your own misery.
I have imparted my wisdom.  I must go and melt into my bed for a little while longer.  

Nov 12, 2009

One of My Favorites

This song EMBODIES my good friend Shaun.  Reminds me of him everytime I listen to it.  It was written with his life in mind, I swear it!

And it's also one of my favorite songs of all time.

Enjoy!

Is It Friday Yet?

More like, is it Friday at 10PM and am I already in bed yet?  Because that sounds like heaven to me right now.  I am being kicked in the face over and over every morning these days.  By my own exhaustion.  It's not a lovely thing.

So posting today will be light.  I have sewing class tonight (will the skirt be finished? Stay tuned!) and I have a sick boyfriend at home who needs me.  Just call me Florence Nightingale.

So I wanted to leave you with a little peep into my world of work yesterday:

I am not sure I have ever mentioned that Dave and I work together.  So not only do we live together and see each other all night, but we work together and see each other all day as well.  I am ok with this.  I am on one floor and he is on another.  We don't act like a couple when we are here.  I am sure new people would realize there is something going on between us because of our level of comfort with one another, but we never act like a co-habitating couple (isn't that the most ROMANTIC way to label a relationship?) when we are here.

So when I went upstairs yesterday to tell Dave that I had won a blog award (thanks Josh!), in my excitement I knocked a few things off of his desk and into the realm of the five inches of space behind it.  Oops.  I tried to reach my arm down as far as I could but to no avail.  I could not grab his little blue angry-faced stress ball no matter how hard I tried.  My shoulder kept stopping me.  So then Dave gave it a try.  He cleared a bunch of things off his desk and ree--aa--cched as far as he could, but again, nothing.  I figured if I climbed onto his desk and leaned over that way that I would have more leverage.  So I sprawled across his desk and shoved my arm into the abyss and oh!! So close!!  Just a little further!

So Dave grabbed me around my thighs and pushed.  I turned into a 90 degree angle and proceeded to reach as far as my damn limiting limbs would allow.  My head and shoulder were being rammed into the wall with alarming pressure and still my fingers only just brushed the top.  I needed to let him know what his duty was at that moment, and I needed to make sure that I did not mince my words:

"Harder! Push harder!"

And then a co-worker walked in.  She took one look at us and said, "Woah.  You guys are friggin' kinky". 

Dave looked at her from his position of holding up my legs and ramming me into the wall.  I looked at her from my position of being rammed.  I mean, what do you say to that?  At that point I had reached the blue ball (shush your naughty minds) so I held it up for all to see, "I was trying to get the blue guy".  Uh huh.

And there you have it.  A nice visual to take you through the day today.  To bring you happily into tomorrow, I have an amazing quote that was thrown into the universe yesterday, also at work:

"I don't really like the smell of babies.  They smell like the inside of a human".

Enjoy.

Nov 11, 2009

A Little Piece of Sunshine



I recieved my very first blog award today!!  Joshua over at The Technical Parent was so kind as to hand this one over to me and I am eternally grateful to him for doing so.  I have this blog because I love writing, but it's nice when someone else tips their hat your way to show their appreication.

So along with this award comes some rules.  I have to list five blogs floating out in the blogosphere that I enjoy reading regularily, which won't be hard for me to do!  So again, Joshua, thank you! thank you! thank you SO much!

1. This Train of Thought Has Been Derailed- I love, love, love reading what she has to say on a daily basis.  I swear we are long lost relatives of some sort! Love her humour, love the situations she gets herself into.  Thank you Queen High Mistress of the Universe!

2. Toronto City Life- Honestly, such a beautiful blog.  This guy makes me fall in love with this city through his amazing photos.  Please- do yourself a favor and check this one out..

3. Secret Office Confessions- this girl makes me pee my pants on a regular basis.  First person in the world to make me laugh at 8 in the morning.  Thanks Kate!

4. Kitty Tells It As It Is- I am enamoured with her stories.  She has a beautiful blogging voice to my ears. 

5. The Technical Parent- Because you ARE the little brother I had growing up.  In a long lost kind of sense.  Thanks again man!

Honestly, you will not be disappointed if you check out these blogs.  Happy reading and thank you!

All I Want For Wednesday Is...


To bring the boys (and girls) back home.



Bring the boys back home

Bring the boys back home

Don't leave the children on their own

Bring the boys back home

Nov 10, 2009

I Love My Big Sister Because...

She introduced me to good music growing up.  Well, wait, let's back up for a second here.  She didn't actually kindly take my hand and lead me to the glorious path of a music lover, no.  She was too busy telling me to get out of her room and to "MooooOOOM!!! Katherine stole my stuff AGAIN!" to focus on the fact that I really and truly just wanted to be her disciple.  Because back in 1985, my sister was a rock goddess.

Here are a few of the bands that she listened to, and I copied listening to because I loved them so much.  Most I still love to this day, and I have built my musical tastes around these early pioneers of my musical schooling.


Kon Kan.  Anyone remember these guys? Puss N' Boots/ These Boots Are Made for Walking and Harry Houdini are the two songs that I remember the most.  I learned to do the shuffle dance to these songs.  You know, the dance where you are too young to be a cool 80s queen with big hair so you just kind of shuffle along looking like you want to bust out at any second? Yeah, that one.  I would still do the shuffle dance to these guys.




Depeche Mode.  Still one of my favorite bands of all time.  Me as a 6-year-old singing Strangelove and Never Let Me Down?  God, I can only dream that my hypothetical children will be that cool one day.





New Order.  Who doesn't remember Bizarre Love Triangle, Blue Monday and True Faith?  So good.  Especially Bizarre Love Triangle.  So good that it has foever been immortalized in one of my favorite movies ever, Pretty in Pink.  Oh dear.  Am I stuck in the 80s?

Of course we cannot forget about Duran Duran, Erasure, Wham! and all the other greats that she would listen to with her girlfriends, locked away in her bedroom giggling about boys.  Sigh.  All I wanted was to wear acid wash skirts and white pumps with slouch socks.  Instead, I was the bratty little sister who wore her underwear with noticing it wasn't mine.  I must have been infuriating.   Not anymore though, I swear.

Fast forward a few years and her music got even cooler.  Never mind that she started listening to hair bands (which were COOL to me at the time) but she also had a Johnny Rotten streak in her as well.  And I thought she was JUST as cool then as she had been before.  Gone were the tapered jeans and Varnet shirts: they had been replaced with a school girl uniform (not because she wanted to) and uber large glasses that weren't  a prescription.  They were just her style.  The bands she listened to then had me on the first swear.  Bands with rough voices and wailing guitars.  Here is where she left my music education, but I took over from there and now I am the rock goddess. Version 2.0. 


So let's continue on to the rock and roll education I was getting from this little fahionista.  Later on she turned to a harder, darker side of music, and it suited me just fine.


Social Distortion.  Mike Ness and his barbed wire voice.  I loved it.  I never even knew someone could sound like that.  I mean, after Milli Vanilli and New Kids on the Block (who I loved by the way) who knew that singers smoked cigarettes and had many women?  My life goal at the tender age of 10 was to become one of those women after listening to Story of My Life on tape.

The Forgotten Rebels.  Not for the weak hearted.  In grade six I believe I was the only kid singing out "Fuck me dead! One, two, three, four!" on the school yard.  It was a beautiful sounds in my ears.  It still is today. 

And many more.  So I guess I just wanted to say thank you, sisty, for introducing me to the one thing in my life I love more then anything. 

You are still pretty effin' cool if I do say so myself.  Even though you are old and decrepit.

xoxoxo

Book Review: Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk



So.  Snuff.  First off let me say that I am obsessed with Chuck.  I want to marry him and have him tell our kids stories like the ones he writes about in his books.  Because they would grow up to be very well-adjusted adults I bet.

Now that we have that out of the way, let's talk a little about this book.  I loved the idea behind it.  An aging porn star wants to go out with a bang by banging 600 dudes a la Metro's Houston 500.   The fact that good ole' Charles has no problems writing a book based around the porn industry gives me a good chuckle.  He really is a genius who has no qualms writing about any kind of taboo.  And for this, I love him.

In the book, Cassie Wright wants to make sure that her aging money maker has a meet and greet with 600 love darts before she leaves the industry for good.  Little does anyone know that someone there is meant to die.  How can a you take a porn and have it live on forever?  Turn it into a snuff film. 

With whispers of illegitimate children floating around the set, everyone wants to be Cassie's offspring.  She is leaving behind a legacy for her kid that will take them through life easy peasy.  So when rumours begin to surface that she is planning to die for the child she gave up, things go from 'a little sticky from the lube', to 'the condom broke and my life is over' very quickly.

Chuck has the reader follow three men, numbers 137, 600, and 72 in a first person perspective of what each is going through and thinking while waiting on set to have their turn with Ms. Wright.  Being complete strangers, each plays a significant role in the others' experience, until finally it all comes to a 'searing' end for one of them.

Honestly, like I said,  the idea of this book is an amazing one.  But, it fell a little flat for me.  The execution of the story was lackluster and not full of the usual energy that one see's in Chucky's books.  Rant, Choke, Haunted, these are all books that grabbed me from the first sentence and didn't put me down until the end.  And then they picked me up and slammed me back against the wall the way that Mr. Palahniuk is wont to do.  Snuff had the right intentions of carrying out the same actions, but seemed rushed near the end.

If you want a good read, read this book.  I highly reccomend it.  If you are very familiar with many of Chuck Palahniuk's works, I still say read it, but try not to be too disappointed. 

Take it from me, a true Palahniulover.


Nov 8, 2009

First Kiss Soap Opera

Almost everyone has had a first kiss, and almost everyone remembers it.  Your youth, your innocence, both are wrapped up in the moment when your lips first touch the lips of a fancied candidate.  Always exhilarating, always nauseating, your first kiss is one that you will take with you as a fond, if not gross, memory in your life, to your dying day.  Thank god most of us don't base the rest of our kissing lives on that first one, or we would all be horrible kissers.  Am I right people?

This is the story of my first kiss.  It's umm....interesting.

The year was 1991.  It was summer.  I was 11-years-old with a mushroom cut and buck teeth.  This was also the summer that I carried around a dog-eared copy of Terminator 2 Magazine, because I am amazing like that.  I had just met my best friend Ciara, and we were already inseparable.  So it only made sense that when my parents told us we would be spending a couple of weeks at a cottage in Muskoka, naturally I begged for her to be able to come along.

My parents agreed and the next day we were off.  Our cottage was beautiful.  Nestled in the trees, and only a short walk to the dock where we had our boat tied up.  This boat plays a very important role in my story, because it is where everything went down.  It was a bigger boat, and it housed a tiny 'bedroom' of sorts, which was really just a very cramped spot where a few people could sleep.  It was kind of like being in a coffin when I think about it now, but it was the number one choice for my sister, myself and Ciara to sleep instead of in the cottage with my parents and little brother.

The first few days were spent swimming, fishing, enjoying camp fires, all the fun stuff you do when you are enjoying nature.  Also, not a re-run episode of Golden Girls was missed that two weeks, as every evening after dinner we sat in front of the tiny television and indulged in one of our favorites.  This is how Ciara and I knew we were best friends.  Who else at 11-years-old can relate to a bunch of old women living together and going through the trials and tribulations of old lady life? We could, that's who.

Nature 1, Man 0


I saw this clip last night on the Discovery show Destroyed in Seconds.  I am OBSESSED with that show.  Why? Because I am sick.  I enjoy watching people hurt themselves, even though I sit with my hands near my face the entire time I am watching it.  Better to cover my eyes with when someone flips off their motorcycle like a rag doll.  Ouch.

This clip is footage shot in Japan, during a slew of mudslides that were occurring in 2004 due to the wet weather they were experiencing that summer.  One second the roadway is there, the next second, it's gone.  This only, once again, reminds me that we need to be in awe of Nature and all her force.  Because when she feels like it, she will destroy your stuff.

Nov 7, 2009

And Now For Dessert

I promised you a delectable dessert didn't I? Well here it is:

Scrumptious Homemade Nutty Caramel Popcorn

Ingredients:

-popcorn kernels (not the microwave kind)
- sweetened peanuts (beer nuts, honey roasted, any kind will do)
-1 cup of sugar
-6 tbsp of butter
-1/2 cup of heavy cream (whipping cream preferably)
-tsp extra virgin olive oil 
-salt 

On maximum heat, heat a tsp of olive oil in a medium- sized pot.  Add enough popcorn kernels to just cover the bottom.  This will make quite a large bowl of popcorn, so you do not need to add more to the pot.  Heat the kernels without the lid on, always shaking the pot lightly, until the first kernel pops.  Place the lid in the pot and shake over heating element until popping sounds dies down.  Do not continue after that or you will burn the popcorn.  Place the popcorn into a large bowl, making sure it only comes up halfway, as you need room to stir.  If you do not have a bowl large enough, use two.  Place to the side.

For this next part, make sure you have the sugar, butter and cream measured out and within reach as this part goes quickly!  You will be making a caramel sauce and it requires constant attention.  

Place another medium-sized pot over high heat on stove top.  Add cup of sugar to the pot, stirring constantly.
The dry sugar will turn slowly turn to a liquid, but will burn if not stirred constantly.  A whisk is desired but I just used a fork.  Once the sugar has gone from a solid to a liquid, it should be a deep amber color.  Still stirring, you will now add the butter all at once.  The liquid will bubble up but keep stirring.  Once all the butter has melted, take the mixture off the heat.  Wait 10 seconds and add the cream.  Stir until the mixture becomes thick.  You now have a delicious caramel sauce.  

Pre-heat oven to 250 degrees fahrenheit.  Pour a little bit of caramel sauce over popcorn in bowl.  Add a handful of sweetened nuts. Add a pinch of salt.  Again, I find that coarse sea salt works best for this but any salt will do.  Slowly stir mixture with a spatula or any kind of flat utensil until all popcorn is properly coated.  Keep adding caramel sauce until you are finished.

Pour the popcorn mixture on to a cookie sheet and spread out all over sheet.  Place tray in oven lower rack and bake for 1 hour.  Stir mixture every 15 minutes until done.  Baking the popcorn will give you the same non-sticky sheen that store bought caramel popcorn has to it.

Let cool for a few minutes and enjoy.  Seriously delicious! 

Saturday Night Pizza Fever

It's Saturday! My favorite day of the weekend.  It's the day I am so unbelievably lazy that it puts Sloth to shame.  For instance, today I woke up at 2PM, dragged my ass down the stairs clutching a book, and walked straight to the couch where I proceeded to lay myself down once again.  I finished my book, noticed it was after 3, and figured I should make some breakfast.  I made bacon and eggs and some strong coffee to wake me up (which didn't work), and Dave and I sat over breakfast until 4:30.  Yes, we ate breakfast in the late afternoon.  And watched the sun go down.

Currently I have chosen a new book to read, set up my record player in my room (which took no man power, believe me) and am listening to opera while I type.  What a life.  I also most likely won't shower or brush my teeth.  Later, I am going to play video games and enjoy my own filth.

But I digress.  The reason for this post was not to show you all how gross I become on the weekends, but to let you in on a delicious, easy pizza that would be perfect for a Saturday night spent indoors, watching movies and staying in your pajamas.

 Gourmet Lazy Evening Pizza

  Ingredients:

-store-bought pizza dough (that you took out that morning and let rise in a large bowl)
-flour
-extra virgin olive oil
-dried rosemary, basil, thyme, salt, pepper
-1 package of Kraft 4 Cheese Italian (which is a blend of emmental, mozzarella, provolone and parmesan cheeses if you don't feel like the packaged stuff)
-1 clove of garlic, minced
-pitted large green olives, sliced
-marinated mushrooms, sliced if large (any store bought kind will do)
-100g of black forest ham (or your ham of choice)
-for an extra gourmet kick, add romano cheese to your list of cheeses  

Set your oven to 450 degrees fahrenheit.  Flour a large surface area and place your dough there.  Flour your dough and rolling pin as well.  You don't want anything to stick!  Roll out your dough to your desired size.  I use a regular cookie sheet for mine.  Place dough on cookie sheet and trim edges to just fit over the edges of the sheet.  This will determine how thick you want your crust to be.  For a thicker crust, trim less away. Do not fold your crust over just yet. 

Brush your dough with olive oil, or use your fingers to spread it all over.  Take some of your 4 cheese mix and place it at the very edges of the pizza, all the way around.  Now it is time to fold over your crust.  Make sure to tuck the cheese blend into the folds and press down lightly with a fork.  You now have a stuffed crust, pizza in the works, yum!  

Sprinkle minced garlic on dough, along with your spices. As little or as much as you like.  Next add your blend of cheeses on top of your spices, saving the romano for last.  Add the olives, mushrooms, and shredded pieces of ham to the pizza as well.

Sprinkle romano cheese to finish.  Lightly salt the crust (coarse sea salt works best!)

Pizza will cook on a low rack in the oven for 15 minutes, depending on how thick your crust is.  It might take a few minutes longer for a thicker crust.  If cheese starts to brown before crust is done, turn down the temperature in your oven to 350 degrees.  The crust is done when the underside is golden brown and the crust itself is no longer doughy.  Just rip off a little piece as a taste test. Let pizza cool for a few minutes and enjoy!

And there you have it! Delicious pizza on a Saturday night! Screw take out!

Now who wants to know what I would make for dessert?  Stay tuned and I will tell you soon.  But first, time to start a new book and continue the laziness!

Nov 6, 2009

Reflections From A Photo




A picture of the street I lived on in Kingston, in University.  In my crooked, falling down house.  I miss it.  Is it possible to loathe a time in your life but at the same time really miss it?  Winter in the photograph, with the sun on it's way down.  It is touching the top of the apartment building further down the street, making the tree at the end of the block seem as if it is on fire.  I am nostalgic for those days.  I loved this street.  Things were crazy then for many reasons.  I used to sit on the steps and smoke cigarettes, and I would be cold.  I would go back into the house, shutting the door tightly behind me, and I would still be cold.  We had no heat.

That's what this picture conjures inside of me: to look at it, I remember the cold.  When I think about it, it makes me feel warm.

Re-cap of the Same Crap

So life has been crazy lately.  As usual it seems.  But the funny thing about it all is that even though I feel like a maniac a lot of the time, when I reflect back on my week I haven't really done anything.  That's what stress does to you.  It makes you feel like you are wound so tight that you are going to let go one day and ricochet to the moon.  Wouldn't that be nice!  On the way home from work today Dave went into our favorite coffee shop to grab us a cup of joe, and it seemed to be taking forever.  It wasn't at all, Jess (who is very wise) pointed out that when we are forced to run around like rats all day the way we are, it is strange to go out into the real world and see how people really pace themselves.  Normally.  Not like people who have their fingers stuck into an electrical socket.

But enough about work, it's Friday and I am not allowed to talk about it.  On to bigger and better things.  Such as: another installment of...the stupid conversations we have when we are tired!!!  If you have not read episode one of this epic series, you can do so here.   Today's episode happened last night, as Jess and I were walking home from sewing class.  Our conversation went a little like this:

Me: So when is your friend visiting?

Jess:  On Tuesday.  He is happy because he is getting a cheap ride from Montreal to Toronto.  Although I think he should be paying him (the guy who offered the ride).

Me: What?  Who is paying who?

Jess: My friend V is getting a ride with someone who posted an ad asking for $15 and for the person (V) to drive the whole way.

Me: Ummm? What? So the person who owns the car wants whomever needs the ride to drive their car? And for THEM to pay HIM?

Jess: Yeah.  Because he wants to read.

Me: Read? Reeeaaad?  Is that slang for something?  Is that street talk for smoking pot?

Jess: No, I mean read.  Like a book.

Me: What the??? The guy wants to READ??? How strange is that?  He just wants to read while V drives his car and pays him?

Jess: Yeah.

Me: Woah. 

And this is how your tired brain works.  I heard 'read him' come out of her mouth at some point as well.  As if the owner of the car just wanted to stare at her friend V the whole way.  As in study him.  And that's why the ride was so cheap because he would be riding with a perverted weirdo.

Oh little brain, one day I will give you a rest.





Nov 5, 2009

The Crappiest Post With the Most

I woke up this morning and sat on the stairs in my apartment whining to Dave that I DID NOT want to go to work.  Picture a full grown woman, still in her pajamas, spread out on hte stairs whining up to you.  Pretty hot image no?  I know you want some of this.

So tonight is my sewing class, and because I woke up with a hard on for feeling sorry for myself, I am pretty much going to come home after class, fall into my dinner, and then fall into bed.

So I present to you the crappiest post with the most.  I wanted to leave you with a few pictures of my sewing class progress.  The pillows are complete, with a neat-o zipper and everything!  And my skirt fabric has been cut out and tonight we will commence sewing it all together.  Or destroying it.  Either one.

So here are the examples of my very first use of a sewing machine.  And you get to see it here first!  Lucky you!




And there they are.  I am so proud.  Look at that amazing zipper action.  And look how much my cat Mikah loves cuddling her bum against them.



And here is the skirt, all pretty and orange and curduroy.  Did I ever tell you how much I love corduroy?  I used to be called the Queen of Corduroy.  In the first picture it is all cut up, waiting for me to mutilate it, second picture I pieced it together and wanted to document what it's SUPPOSED to look like before I attempt to sew it tonight.  Wish me luck.

Also, and this is exciting, do you remember my old computer set up, where I was sitting on the floor, hunched over and wanting to die from being so uncomfortable?  If you don't remember this, check it out here.  Well, I actually spent some money on myself because I figured if I didn't, my well-being and sanity would be out the window by Christmas time.  And Dave's as well, from having to listen to me complain everyday about how much my back hurt.  So here is my new and improved computer set up!

 
It's such a lovely comfortable space.  I love sitting here and writing, and finally, no more back aches!  The space is not quite done yet, I want to add wallpaper, some fabric on the little arched ceiling, and my old-fashioned record player.  I will keep you posted.


Thanks for reading to the end.  I know this wasn't the most exciting post, but I love you if you made it this far.  Until tomorrow my dears!