Isn't it a Pity

greetings, comrades. i hope all is well with you. me, ive been better. having a bit of a bout with anxiety the last couple of weeks; i am starting to feel better, and i am looking forward to my workout this evening, which as always is the cure for what ails me.
anyway, that isnt really what i wanted to write about. in fact, i have some sad news. well, its sad to me, i dont know if any of YOU guys will care, but as ive said before, this is my blog and i can say what i want. (sidebar: i just totally got distracted by the fact that you really do use the fingers on your left hand more than the fingers on your right when youre typing. im sure you all know the tale of how they purposely made the QWERTY keyboard backwards to a right handed person because people were typing so fast that it jammed up the typewriters. anyway, every once in a while i am cognizant of this fact. moving on.)
so the sad news is, my lovely sister has decided to quit blogging. im not sure why, and i guess i understand, but i am rather saddened by this unexpected turn of events. i guess i kind of felt like blogging is something we do together. now it isnt. also, it is nice to read her blog when she is writing about her comings and goings and other various observations and meandering. its like spending time with her. sort of. anyway, i wish her the best, and i hope she knows that she is welcome to do guest posting on THIS blog any time she likes..... so that is that. i would like to leave you with the following quote from a white stripes song. jack always knows best.

"and i love my sister, lord knows how ive missed her.
i love her and i know she wont forget.
sometimes i get jealous of all her little pets,
and i get lonely, but i aint that lonely yet."

All the Single Ladies

you know comrades, life is funny. i know im not the first person to make this observation, but it really does make me laugh sometimes. of course, there are many ways that this funniness manifests itself, but the example i am thinking of right now involves my personal life.
before i met dave, i hadnt been on a date in over two years. i was ok with this state of affairs. i have never had a problem being single, and i dont get bored or lonely in my own company. in fact, sometimes i prefer my own company. when you spend all day, every day working with people who are depending on you for their care and who can be very demanding at times, it is nice to get home and relax alone for a while. anyway, that being said, i have to admit that i did not really get hit on at all back then. im not sure why, but i didnt really. in fact, i would go so far as to say that men didnt even really notice me. i will attribute this as much to the fact that i dress very unattractively at work as to the fact that i work with marginalised people who seem to be invisible to the world at large. anyway, so it was.
now, it is more than two years later and i have to tell you, i have been hit on more in the last two years than i ever was in any of the years before i met dave. on one hand, i find this hilarious if not bizarre, but on the other it makes me feel sort of awkward. for example, im sitting here at the library right now with anne, and some guy sitting across from us just passed me a note to put in my purse which had his phone number on it and a pick up line. like, what? im flattered, but now i just feel like an idiot. i KNEW it was going to have his number on it when he gave it to me. i should have just put it in my purse without looking at it. i imagine it took a lot of balls for him to just hand that to me, but what am i supposed to say? should i just write him a note back? kidding. kidding. im just going to get up and take anne to the toilet and forget about it. but still. hilarious, but kind of embarrassing.

J'Arrive

well comrades, i had a cool experience today, which i have been reflecting on and i thought i might share it with you. today, i had the great fortune of being able to make it to the actual masters swim workout at the y. usually, i have to do the masters swims by myself because i cant make it, but today i did, and there is nothing like having the coach and the teammates and the beautiful boys to round out the swimming experience. anyway, in about the last five minutes of our practice, the little chilluns showed up for their day camp swim which follows masters. they were all sitting by the deck watching us do our sweet thang, and one little girl crept up closer and my lanemate was playfully splashing her ankles, so i splashed him, and it was just one of those nice little moments that we are all lucky enough to have once in a while if we are observant enough to notice them.
the reason is was so cool for me though, is because i remember when i was a kid and my swimming lessons were right after the masters swim. we would be like the little kids i saw today, sitting on the deck, watching the masters being masterful. i yearned so badly to become one of them someday. i wouldnt say it was a goal, so much, because i never really made an effort to become one, but more like an affinity, i suppose. like i knew i was one of them already, i just needed to get older and more practiced at what i was doing. and today, i realised that i have arrived. through no effort or design, i have actually come to inhabit one of the most genuine and steadfast desires of my heart.
too often, i get a little disheartened because i havent achieved many of the things i hoped i would at this point in my life. but i realised today that although we are often victims of the best laid plans of mice and men, sometimes we also get to be champions of unmitigated circumstances. its in these times, i think, that we are happiest, because we are truly being ourselves. there is real sincerity in that. i didnt try to become a masters swimmer, i just am one. it almost sneaked up on me.
the thing that really made this experience so beautiful was the little girl who approached us. i thought to myself, there goes the one like me. the one who wants to be one of us, who hasnt yet realised that she already is.

I Am Semi-Famous

ok, maybe not, but i am feeling that way. today, one miss jennifer edwards, who runs a fitness blog, published an article i wrote for her about vegetarianism and endurance sports. i was very excited to write it, and i am happy and honoured to see my work up on someone else's blog. if you get a chance you can read my article here. i want to thank jennifer for giving me the opportunity to write for her blog, and who knows. maybe some of her followers will take a gander at good ole science, tea and cats. also, i should probably get my swimlog updated. i havent done that in a while. this has just been such a messed up month, workout wise. but this week is going well so far. hhahahaha, its only tuesday, but still.

This is Why Everyone Should Knit

hello comrades! long time no see. i have had a very hectic week, and thus have not had the occasion or opportunity to blog. but have no fear, i am here now! and i am excited to write about something i actually had the foresight to jot down notes about last friday so i wouldnt forget. ready?
last friday, on my way to daves, i was in a rather cynical and antisocial mood. i get this way from time to time. i try to snap out of it, usually, but when you work with marginalised people who are treated like dirt by the rest of society it isnt always easy. so i had my knitting under my arm, and i realised that there are a few unforseen advantages to being a knitter, which i shall share with you here.
1) if you carry your knitting under your arm while travelling on foot, as i often do between different forms of public transportation, you are always armed. im sure that some people would argue that carrying around knitting also makes you a more likely target for mugging, and that may very well be the case. however, those would-be assailants will think twice next time they try to attack a knitter, because quick as a flash, i could have a 16 inch knitting needle crammed in their eye socket, and another tucked swiftly under the ribs. the soothing comfort of knitting seems to be the gift that keeps on giving, if you ask me.
2) if you spend any sizable amount of time on public transportation, as i do, knitting is a great way to pass the time without getting carsick, and you can listen to music at the same time. i know some people can read and listen to music, but i dont like to. that being said, there is a bonus to knitting on the bus or subway. NO ONE WANTS TO SIT NEXT TO A KNITTER. the needles flailing about in the hands of even the most experienced and subtle knitter are seen as a nuisance by other travellers, and they will avoid you at all costs. now, before you start to worry that i am an antisocial lunatic, i want you to look deep inside your conscience and try to tell me honestly that you "dont really mind" when people sit next to you on the bus. thats what i thought. you mind. we all mind. get over it.
3) finally, if you ever get lost in the woods, your knitting could be all that stands between you and certain death. whether the garment you are making gets used as a blanket, the needles get used as tools, or the wool gets used as string, having a knitting project on the go could save your life.

so there it is, comrades, the unexpected perks of knitting. until next time, keep your stick on the ice.

I Live in a Menagerie

so yesterday i was so distracted telling you about justin biebers bid for a pulitzer prize that i forgot to tell you about my hilarious and hectic morning. actually, i didnt really find it hilarious, but i think you guys will, because you all seem to enjoy the mishaps and horrible suffering inflicted on me by my idiot animals.
before i begin, i should give you some background information. recently, dave bought me an aloe plant, because i have always wanted one. i have kind of a bad history with caring for plants, but im hoping to rectify that this time around. i think things are working in my favour this time, because a) i named the plant marvin, b) dave bought it for me... i am trying to remind myself that it is symbolic of our love, even though i dont generally go in for that kind of sappy pap, c) aloe plants are relatively low maintenance, and it is actually in their best interests to let the soil dry out completely between watering, to simulate their natural arid habitat. in addition to the welcoming of marvin to our home, i am also babysitting one of my clients' pets; a rabbit named maple. i am not really too keen on this situation, but they gave me two free cartons of cigarettes in exchange for the favour, and they were just going to give it away and then get my client a new pet when they get back from their vacation, which i think is despicable pet ownership, not to mention teaching their child really poor life skills. so there it is. rabbit babysitting.
i only received the rabbit this past wednesday night, and i was understandably nervous about my cats killing it or it starving to death on my watch or something and then having to explain to my ten year old disabled client that i killed his stupid bunny. the first two nights went smoothly, however. when maple first hit the scene, carmela tried hunting it, but failed, obviously. neo hissed at it a bit, and puppy went through her usual routine of "i dont mind that youre here, but this is MY house, bitch, and dont you forget it" like she always does with new animals. then the three of them surrounded me for the rest of the night. i want to say its because they love me so much and they dont want to share, but its really because they are territorial. they would have done the same thing with their litter boxes, if they thought the rabbit might have been interested.
SO this past weekend was "the civic holiday in august;" a completely invented, pointless long weekend. (not that im complaining. im just pointing out that there is no historical significance to the holiday, which is why its called "the civic holiday in august"). and i was nervous about leaving the cats with the rabbit for so many days alone. i was also nervous about how much food and water to leave down for it. in addition to this stress, i ran out of the cats normal, healthy food, and was totally broke, so i had to break down and give them junk food for the weekend. because they are piggish losers, they eat junk food like its laced with crack because its tasty and fattening. like cat food mcdonalds or something, so i knew i would be coming home to piles of puke.
so just to recap: marvin the aloe plant; maple the bunny; and three hungry, stupid longhaired cats. is it any wonder i was anxious about coming home on tuesday?
as i expected, my arrival home was hectic. there was some puke, but not as much as anticipated. maple had knocked over the extra dish of water i had left for her, and thus scared herself away from the food bowl sitting beside it, and so she hadnt eaten much of anything all weekend. i guess this is why we dont put dishes of water down for rodents, theyre too damn stupid not to knock it over. so, i cleaned up the puke, then i fed the cats. as i expected, they completely cleaned out their bowls, not because i didnt leave them enough food for the long weekend, but because they are disgusting pigs who eat that junk food like candy. then i changed the bunny cage and got that shit all cleaned up. i changed the litter boxes, and then i gave the cats their weekly dose of hairball laxative, and i took marvin into the bathroom for his shower. i got the whole entire list of chores done start to finish in under twenty minutes. i was feeling pretty smug.
i thought all was going well. too well, in fact. i sat down finally to have a cup of tea and a cigarette, wondering what i could have possibly missed. then i felt it, the dreaded wet spot on my bean bag chair. of course, of course. carmela, my stray-turned neurotic housepet has always been a stress pisser. it isnt her fault, she was very traumatised as a baby. that being said, it has been a wonderfully long time since i had to deal with this unfortunate habit of hers, because our home life has been very stable and she has actually been more well adjusted than ever lately. the strain of everything was just too much for her, i think. between having a new animal in the house, the food dishes being empty, and me being gone one extra day, i think she was totally freaking out. i felt so bad for her. as soon as i found the piss, sorry, i mean as soon as i SAT in it, she went hiding under my bed because she thought she was in trouble. i couldnt deal with that situation right away, obviously, because i had to get my bean bag chair and myself cleaned up first. the tough thing about having a cat who is a pisser is they can smell the scent of it even if you wash it, which will cause them to piss on it again. i struggled with this for ages with carmela and had to store my bean bags in the bathroom for months when i wasnt at home. i use an enzymatic cleaner, which helps, but i currently have the offending chair out on the balcony in the sun. i am convinced that the sunlight helps break down the invisible smells.
so when all was said and done, i caved and gave the cats some cat nip because i wanted carmela to know i wasnt mad at her. then finally, at last, at last, i sat down and had my tea and my cigarette, and that was how i started my day.

Baby, Baby, Baby, OH!

bahahahahahahahah, thus spoke justin bieber, in lieu of writing real lyrics. why am i writing about the biebs? have i come down with an age-inappropriate case of bieber fever? i can only wish. no, comrades, i just read a blurb in the paper that was too hilarious not to share. apparently, the young mr bieber is slated to publish his MEMOIRS this october. you did not just have a petit seizure, dear readers. i said memoirs. from a sixteen year old internet sensation who spent 14 of those years in STRATFORD. of all places. WOW. im sure his insight and wisdom are exceeded only by his charm. my goodness.
anyway, laughing aside, this news got me thinking about ghostwriting. (what? you mean to say you think he wrote this tome himself? possible, i suppose, but its also possible that im going to win a bazillion dollars in the lottery and then i will be able to be a rally car racer and have a side thing with michael phelps). here is the thing about ghostwriting: it seems unethical to allow someone else to take credit for your work as a writer, but if it is totally OBVIOUS that the book was written by a ghostwriter, does it still matter? and most of these ghostwritten books are pointless piles of crap about celebrities who already have millions of dollars. is it so terrible if a writer or two get a slice of the pie in exchange for a biography here and there? its kind of whoreish, perhaps, but so are most things, really. and the money that a writer makes off of ghostwriting would enable him or her to work on their own book.
i shall have to think about this some more. it does seem slightly unprincipled, but maybe the ends justify the means. im not sure. i would muse about it more here, but i am almost out of computer time for the day, so we shall continue this discussion soon, dear comrades. in the meantime, i hope you are well.