Today is my mother's *mumblemumble*th birthday! She doesn't look a day over 30, good gravy I hope I inherit that! The kids and I called and sang Happy Birthday to her over the phone, which made her cry of course. It doesn't help that Dad is in Canada (!!!) right now getting their paperwork in order so they can FINALLY get their stuff moved down there to Mexico with them. Getting a call from Dad saying he would be over in a few minutes with chicken & buns from the Portuguese restaurant in London was like getting a Christmas present early.

I was so happy and I am so thankful I got to see him. Dad travels a lot, which is funny because he used to complain about how his Dad used to travel lots. I don't begrudge him for it - his kids are grown, the nest is empty, and the only thing to stop him from doing it is himself. But what this means to me is, all those hours and hours that most people take for granted when they get to see their fathers, are boiled down to precious minutes for me. He gave me a huge hug when he saw me and I breathed in his cologne and I was five all over again. He is the most important man in my life aside from my husband, and I cherish whatever time I get with him.

Last night I got to talk to my friend V via Skype. It was so fantastic - we both have webcams so we got to see each other while talking - for FREE. This may not seem like a big deal, but when you consider the fact that I would have paid a kazillion dollars for a 51 minute phone call to the UK, this is a HUGE deal. And you don't have to have a webcam to use it - just a microphone and speakers, or a headset. That's it. Calling from skype to skype is free, calling from skype to a phone is chargeable. But whatever. I'm not a paid advertisement for Skype, I am just happy I got to talk to her, on the internet's dime. That's two really important people in my life that I got to be in contact with in two days. My own little blue heaven.

That may not seem like much, but to me, the way things have been lately, it is everything. Which isn't to say I am not thankful for the people I have daily access to - they are every bit as important to me. All I am really saying here is, I miss the ones who are close to my heart but impossibly far by geographical standards.

Other items on the agenda: You might notice to the right there is a bunch of "Tweets" - that would be my gratuitous use of Twitter which really feeds the lazy in me - when all I want to say is one or two things without doing a whole dang journal entry.

Ok, that's probably enough for now. The pneumonia sucks and woke up this morning with a migraine for extra fun. If it weren't for all the happy I'd be pretty darn sad right now.

Every once in a while I ask myself why I bother to keep reading Scary Go Round, and then John Allison does something that makes me fall in love with it all over again.

I've loved his comics since Bobbins (which is totally worth reading over again, by the way. Who doesn't love spunky little Shelley?). Scary Go Round is really hit and miss with me, but it's worth sticking to in the long run.

What I really like is that Allison tends to reinvent himself; what I mean by this is, bit by bit he changes up how he produces the comic, so that visually the eye candy just gets sweeter. He isn't afraid to push himself, which I find is the mark of a good artist. The storyline sometimes falls flat, but you can hardly fault him for it - this is something he does in his spare time after all.

Look at Penny Arcade for an excellent example of artistic evolution - the Penny Arcade of yesteryear certainly doesn't look like the current version. However, even as the art changes up, they consistently remain funny, and very tuned in to the current pulse of gaming. I could go on for pages about how truly fantastic they are - Child's Play, anyone? - but it's all been done before, and in a much more eloquent than I could produce, I'm sure.

Jeph Jacques' Questionable Content is another example of reinvention, artistically speaking. The original characters look nothing like the current version. His plotlines have gone from random to a bit more cohesive, and he managed to shake the Tony-Angela (in his case Martin/Faye) sharkjump successfully, by not even going there.

One comic I've really grown to love as well is Wapsi Square by Paul Taylor. Initially, his comics were haphazard and without an actual plot, but over time he has told a pretty intriguing story, and I find I can't wait to see where he takes his characters next.

It is really interesting to me to see these artists emerge and find their groove. I am glad that once they find their mojo they stick to what works - this is a process that thanks to the internet we as an audience are privy to. In the world of print, we wouldn't necessarily see these changes - by the time a comic artist gets into syndication, they have already refined their characters et al.

However, if you look at Diesel Sweeties, you can see what artistic consistency looks like as well. R Stevens is fantastic, hits just the right tone, and has maintained the same aesthetic for his characters since day one. He did actually make it into syndication as well, breaking barriers between online and print comics without self-publication (what I mean by this is, he has been syndicated in actual newspapers, rather than for sale in printed anthologies sold by the artist).

I used to love PVP, and I can still tolerate it to a certain degree if I put my horse-blinders on to Scott Kurtz's insipid commentary and overall sense of self-righteous bullshit. On more than one occasion I have seen him rant about something that most human beings would think was a waste of breath, and then recant after getting called on it, ad nauseum, stating that "oh no I meant it this other way that is more acceptable to the masses". I'd offer up some examples but it would pain me to have to go through his archived news; also I'm pretty sure he's erased evidence of most of those kinds of posts anyway. One example that comes to mind was when he ranted about how horrible it was that dude who does Ctrl-Alt-Del was going to be charging his viewers for the cartoon version of his comic. And then a while later, Kurtz attempts the same damned thing! Now I'm not about to go and defend Tim Buckley tooth and nail, because from anything I've read the guy is a bit of a prat too, but really, Kurtz shouldn't be calling the kettle black here. I realize that he is a human being, like the rest of us, prone to mistakes and change his mind like the rest of us, but he still just sets my teeth on edge. There is nothing he can do to fix that, and I am not about to demand he fix it.

Beware: Here there be a million links!

That being said: I would be remiss if I didn't mention Homestar Runner, even though technically it isn't an online comic, it is still a site I visit that consistently brings on the funny, as well as reinvents itself over time. They actually poke fun at online webcomics in a Strong Bad Email. What I love is that while most people who watch and love it are addicted to Strong Bad & Co, I find the quiet perseverance of Homestar's hilarity is what draws me back time and again.

Strong Bad's emails are arguably the most popular feature of the site, most especially the one featuring Trogdor. (Even Strong Bad reinvents the way he answers email by continually "upgrading" his machines to similar older model computers and laptops and "newer" printers.)

The Burninator aside, I find that the funniest StrongBad Emails are the ones featuring Homestar Runner. I am also tickled by the sbemail spinoff, Teen Girl Squad. The origins of that would be found here.

Ok that's enough for now I think.

Have I ever mentioned my friend V?

Probably not. The reason being - I miss her so very much. There is a huge vacancy in my life that is left especially for her, and no matter what I do, nothing and nobody else can fill it. We were friends in college, and of all my "college friends" she is the only one that has stuck. What I mean is, I don't write about her much because there is so much to say. But I think of her all the time. She moved to England quite a few years ago. We get together maybe every 2 years if we are lucky. If she or I could afford it the visits would be much more frequent.

Today I got a package in the mail from her. She gave me "eat pray love" by Elizabeth Gilbert, and a CD of her making. It was so strange because I have seen this book on shelves in stores all over lately, and have felt drawn to it, but always held back from getting it. Now I know why. She wrote all over the inside cover of the book and I cried. And I read the tracks on her CD and I laughed and then I listened and then I cried.

All I really wanted to say here is, I miss her.

I thought it less like a lake and more like a moat.
the rhythm of my footsteps crossing flood lands to your door have been silenced forever more.
the distance is quite simply much too far for me to row
it seems farther than ever before
oh no.

I need you so much closer

(death cab for cutie - transatlanticism)

My boy is EIGHT today!

He was pretty surprised at his cake.



This morning I made him chocolate chip pancakes with hearts cut into them for breakfast, as per his request. Supper tonight will be sweet n sour meatballs & french fries (also his request. A weird combo but it is tradition that the birthday boy or girl gets to request their meal).



So the short term income people were fucking me over stating I had to start work today for 4 hours. My regular shift is only 5 hours. Huh? How does that equal half a shift, like my fucking doctor wrote on the forms? I talked to the medisys people on Friday and the woman was totally uncool about it - said there was no way that my company would allow for 2.5 hrs and it would HAVE to be four.

So of course I'm upset - I can barely do groceries without needing a nap afterward, whiskey tango foxtrot over.

I called my boss on Friday and he said there was "no way in hell I will allow you to come back in those conditions" and "sit tight, I will handle this" and "the medical insurance company is probably pissed that we are taking the business away from them and giving it to another company" and "DO NOT COME BACK UNTIL I CALL YOU".

I called today and left a message to see what was going on - he called back and said that he was looking into it, that HR agreed with him and said there was no way I should come back all at once, that they could even set it up that I only come back 1 hour and then work my way up slowly at my own pace. And that the medical ins co could suck it. Ha and HA. So he said even if I don't get a call back in enough time today, he would *winkwinknudgenudge* give me hours as if I had (knowing full well that I've on more than one occasion stayed an extra hour and never put it on my time sheet - this is strictly a quid pro quo move on his part).

The only reason he is being so cool about this is because he knows what I am usually like - I'm that person that comes in even though I'm dying, I'm the person that is cool about staying extra time when it's needed, and I'm the person that gets a METRIC FUCKTON of accolades from fellow employees, brokers, and lawyers that call in.

He said he would rather eat glass than see me come in before I am truly ready.

So yeah, basically, health wise, I'm better than I was say 2 months ago, but still not fabulous. I am more or less biting through the pain and trying to get my life back in order. The amitriptyline isn't doing shit for my sleeping, the doctor wants me to go up to 30mg by next week to see if that will work. And during the day I get to suck back the gravol for the dizziness and extra strength advil for the pain and just pray my vision/hearing doesn't go off on me. It isn't much of a solution but what can you do, right?

I've also been set up with "telephone counselling" that may/could eventually turn into "counselling in an actual counsellor's office", depending on my needs. The first call from them was kind of weird, it was this whole "please tell me your life story and the principal characters in it" and the lady on the other side was ok but also went into tangents about herself (which I totally expected to happen - next time you talk to me, ask me what I really think about counselling). It was ok in that I got to complain to a semi-neutral ear, but bad in that, here we go again, I do more listening than talking and feel like I've wasted my time because they aren't really listening, they are pausing until there is a gap and then talking talking talking. Ugh.

Ok, time to go pick out a movie to watch with the kids (read: fall asleep to).

"and Eric Stoltz"

Oh man.

Just amusing myself while waiting for the time to leave for the MRI. Wish me luck.

Itemized for future reference, I will get to this when I'm not falling over exhausted (today's activities especially took a lot of energy from me - I think I managed to fool people into thinking I was ok though).

- 2 packages coming in the mail
- Ibrahima
- doctor's appointment (aka guess who still can't go to work?)
- appointment with the school re: K
- Hammer's visit
- Sir T's visit
- K's upcoming trip to the kid's museum by way of train (I know! How exciting is that?)

Memory from last year:

K is seven years old. We are driving to a beach and he and his sister C are each looking out a window at the passing traffic and roadside. He is meticulously counting the number of cows and horses we pass. K loves animals.

We get to the beach and start the trek from parking area to sand. The sand slips in between our toes through the sandals and the kids shriek with glee. The sun bearing down and the sand swishing, whispering at our feet. My husband S slips his hand into mine and chuckles as we watch the kids race ahead of us. K is the one to find the spot where we will set our things.

We pull the blanket out and it flaps in the air. I briskly snap it out so that it will settle on the ground nicely. The kids know the drill: sandals on the corners, so it doesn't get whisked away. They run gingerly to the shoreline, gasping and jumping with each step as the sand perfectly reflects the heat of the sun.

We are at a lake but to K it is like the ocean. Any body of water will do, so long as it is vast and can hold some secrets. K is a little bit nervous about submerging, he rarely will swim under water. He does love to look into it though, and share his observations and discoveries with me. One day soon I will show him what the ocean is really like. I will hold his hand and watch his rapture as he feels the salt spray on his face and smells the fresh, damp air. I will glance at him sidelong and drink in his wonder at the life brimming just below the surface of the water. A perfect reflection of the life beneath the surface of his skin.

C loves the water for other reasons. When she was very little, she used to pretend she was a mermaid. She loved the way her hair would float around her in the water. She used to take extra-long baths because she wanted to see what it was like living as a fish. Sometimes I think if she was given the choice, she would take water over land. She gets this from me. It is in her blood and it courses so fully through her, that I cannot fault her for it. She leaps into the water as though into the arms of a long-lost love, and it fills me with a strange sort of mixture of joy and calm to see the rapture on her face as she emerges from the water. Her laughter is infectious, and S will toss her from his shoulders in to the lake again and again until they are both gasping for air from laughter and mischief.

K loves to collect artifacts from the places we go. A leaf, a feather, a rock, a stick. A shell. He brings them to me, eyes full and the words describing his discovery will tumble out in such a rush, I have to remind him to slow down. "Look, mom, this stick looks like a spider. Look mom, what kind of feather is this? Do you think the birdie will mind if I take it home? Look mom, this rock has a fossil in it! How old do you think it is?"

On this day at the beach, he finds a little shell. He immediately puts it up to his ear. Then I note he puts his mouth to the opening of it and starts murmuring. I am intrigued but I do not want to intrude. I keep watching him to see what he will do. I expect him to come to me in excitement and show me his latest treasure. He does not. Instead, he puts it up to his ear once more, and then once more murmurs something into it. Then he does something unexpected. He tosses the shell into the water, as far as he can throw.

I don't press him for information; instead, the day goes on as lazy days at the beach do. We picnic, get an ice cream, swim some more now and again. K and I dig for treasure, while C laps up the last of the waves and S snoozes on a towel. Half an eye on C, half an eye on K, I use a stick to draw things into the wet sand you usually find a couple of inches under the surface, if you dig enough. K thinks this is great fun and then he decides to dig some moats, fill them with water, and float his toy cars into them. He makes buzzing car noises and "oh noooo, he fell into the ocean!" and he and I are giggling. C comes up and splatters water all over us, laughter and the sun.

It is time to go, and we collect our things. Wash the beach off and change into clean clothes. K makes one last trip up to the shoreline to rinse off his sandy feet one last time and looks down. He finds the same shell he had thrown a few hours before. He picks it up and dusts it off and looks at it thoughtfully. He puts it in a pocket and brings it with him to the car. On the way home, he barely sees the cows, barely sees the horses. His eyes wink and blink and then fall slowly to a close. Sweet mouth breathes in and out; K is asleep. C, beside him, recounts her adventures of the day, one by one. She herself is fighting off the sleep; she is nine, she says. She doesn't need a nap anymore. But she is no match to a day full of clean air and sunshine and exercise in the water. Soon her eyes fall heavy and she too is sleeping.

We get home and S carries them one by one into the house. Pretty soon he won't be able to do this. The kids are growing in leaps and bounds. I follow him up and tuck them each in. C first. She mumbles a thank you for the fun day. I straighten up some mussed hair out of her face and oh, child, please don't grow up too quickly. Then I move on to K. He is in that half-sleep state, eyes fluttery and he's clinging to something in his hand. I gently pry the fingers open and see his little shell. His eyes open and he says in a sticky sleepy voice, "Listen to the shell, mum. I told it a secret." I put the shell to my ear and hear whistling air. I tell him I couldn't hear it quite right. He says "Oh, the ocean must have kept it." I gently rub his back, a ritual we sometimes share when he is feeling extra sleepy. He says "I know it isn't really an ocean, mommy." I say it's okay to pretend that it is. Pretending is the best part of being a kid.

"I know," he says, and lets out a big yawn. I kiss his forehead, and while I am close he says "Mommy, the ocean will always keep your secrets. That's why it's so salty you know - it's full of your tears." I am taken aback and I don't quite know what to say to this, so I say "Is that what the little shell told you?"

I wait for an answer, but none will be given. The ocean is still. K is fast asleep.

I'm still too tired to detail the minutae of my current illness, but I read Hammer's post and it reminded me that I wanted to share what K wrote to me for mother's day. C made me a card herself and was nice to K (a huge gift, she's drowning in hormone soup these days). K's class made "cake in a cup" for the moms. So basically it was cake mix in a coffee mug mixed with an egg and some oil & water. Then icing sugar & water mixed up to "top" the cake once it was microwaved. The poem inside went like this:

"Where I'm from"

I'm from great Christmas mornings.
I'm from the chirps of birds.
I'm from hugs and kisses.
I'm from the taste of chocolate chip double fudge cake (with smarties).
I'm from the smell of yummy turkey.
I'm from dinners at restaurants.
I'm from love.

To Mom from K.


Also, I am proud as a peacock about this - he had a little blurb he wrote about Canadian soldiers published in the education week special pennywhistle thing from our local paper (Pennywhistle is basically a periodical they publish in the paper, each time taking contributions from different schools. During Education Week they publish a special paper on its own with entries from each school in it. K's writeup was selected. He was pretty surprised, he didn't even know about it until I told him when I read it in the school bulletin).

That was an awful long parenthesis

Ok my fingers are getting numb again, later turkeys

So below is a photo of GIR in all his glory. I had to frog the arms once (forgot to change from blue to gray on shoulder part) and the tongue twice (the pink yarn I used is thicker gauge than the worsted used to make his body) but all in all, I think I did pretty swell!

Tonight was a meeting for K's first communion. It was the typical blar blar blar. I nearly fell asleep during the video, no joke. Then I talked Hammer into taking a spin with me through the drive-through of Tim Horton's because it beat her freezing her knickers off while talking with me in the parking lot. Apparently there is drama going on in the other Gr 4 class that doesn't involve either of our daughters, which suits me fine and is a nice change from the norm. However it also makes me pretty sad - ugh. Already, it starts.

My Dad is leaving for Brazil this weekend. He'll be gone for a while so in the meantime I have to keep an eye on my mom and her healing up etc. No word on what is going on yet, but I remain positive.

I have had serious bouts of insomnia, probably brought on from the stress of dealing with family member dying and my mother having issues.

Tomorrow I go for breakfast with Sir T, an event I am looking forward to because frankly I miss chit-chatting with him. Ok. Enough posting, I need to take a hot bath and uncoil all the tension. Breathe deeply. Wax on, wax off, Daniel-san. That sort of thing.

Ciao.

I really like Feist, I have no idea why.

I have a headcold.

I have a headcold, which means my head is full of goo.

I have a headcold, which means my head is full of goo, and I'm worried about my mother.

I have a headcold, which means my head is full of goo, and I'm worried about my mother, BUT my friends witchie & fez (but mostly witchie) sent me a kick-ass package.

I have a headcold which means my head is full of goo, and I'm worried about my mother, BUT my friends witchie & fez (but mostly witchie) sent me a kick-ass package, which made me cry.

I have a... oh fuck it.

Witchie, I got your package and it was awesome and everything was wrapped so beautifully that I was half-afraid to open them, and every little treasure I opened up just made me happier and happier, and I cried because I've had such a lousy time of things lately and this just made me so damn happy it wasn't even funny.

So thank you. And thank you. And thank you. I feel blessed, in spite of the head full of goo and the very sick mother.

I'm so excited! I finally got my invite to Ravelry!

For those of you not in the know, it's like facebook, but for knitters/crocheters. Because it's still in beta mode, you have to sign up to be invited. It took about a week or so for me to get my invite but boy am I excited! LOVE LOVE LOVE!

Some dude did a Lego stop-motion film on Izzard's "Death Star Cantina" bit that also makes me laugh.



Ok I'm going to roll around YouTube for more. I need laughter like you wouldn't believe and this is just what the doctor ordered.

Ok, so there is a LOT to update on.

K's birthday was spent in Niagara Falls. We went and visited various places on Clifton St and had lunch at Ruby Tuesday's. My Dad has a friend who gave us a bunch of passes and gift certificates to go there, who was I to say no to free stuff??? Downside? K was sick in the car on the way up there, and when we got there a couple of times. No fever or anything, so he was probably just car sick, but still. Ew.

After that it was Marineland which K has been wanting to go to since he could speak. It's an expensive trip but what the heck - we always try to do cool stuff for K on his birthday since he's a July baby and it's tough to try and manage a birthday party, you know?

So a good time was had by all, and it topped our week off nicely.

The week we had off, we had an overnight kid swap with K & C's friends - Z came to our house and K went over to theirs. It was K's first time sleeping over at a friend's house, and he was in good form for it so hurrah. The girls had a good time but they always do - that's how girls operate.

Um, what else?

My birthday - well... It sucked in that I woke up with a headache, worked overtime spending most of the day being carped at by angry bankers, came home to my kids fighting the minute I walked in the door. My parents took us to the Portuguese restaurant in London and that was good - birthdays are always bittersweet since my grandfather died though - it's hard not to remember that when you bury them on your birthday. Dad and I had a drink in his name and then we came home because I was just exhausted. Saturday night I went out with my sisterinlaw and brotherinlaw and their friend and... yeah. I had a few too many sicilian kisses and beer. I think I would have been ok but then they brought out the tequila... needless to say I was a trainwreck.

This past weekend we went camping with the kids and some mutual friends. It was good in the way camping is always good, but tiring in the way that camping is always tiring. It really isn't a vacation for me - with the preparing and cooking and cleaning that happens even in the great outdoors - but the kids had fun. We ended up coming home early on Sunday because I was feeling under the weather and so was C. We stopped at a video store and rented a bunch of movies - hurrah for no late fees. Yesterday was spent with me feeling wretched and sickness coming out all ends, if you catch my meaning. So of course the house is still upside-down, kids feel fine though. S has today off, hoping he gets some things done but I won't hold my breath.

I woke up this morning groggy and still feeling unwell, but off to work I will go to spread my germs because that's what everyone else does to me, the bastards.

So!

I got my birthday present from S a month early... and I'm not going to complain one bit becauuuuussseee:

IT'S A NOTEBOOK COMPUTER!!!!!!

HOLY EXPLETIVE!

I was just so shocked I sat down and cried. S found this slightly amusing but he was also happy about my reaction- it meant that he got the right thing, haha. I have been wanting one for so damn long, and every time it looked like I'd squirreled away enough money to do so, something would come up like the car needing repairs or the kids needing something or getting massive traffic fines (*cough*) so I always end up putting all those other things before my needs (welcome to Motherhood, right?). As a result, I'd pretty much given up on the idea of ever getting one.

And then I came home on Monday and S was looking stern and said that we needed to go upstairs to talk... right now. This had me worried and confused because I had no idea what was wrong but he looked pretty upset. So we went up into our room and he still had this really stern look and he said "you know how [S's bank] called me about my [credit card] recently?" (they had called on Friday asking him to confirm a purchase, I took the call but they wouldn't tell me anything because I wasn't the card holder. This happens a lot when he orders computer parts online so I thought nothing of it). And then he said "Well, my stuff from [online computer resource] came in..." and I said "Uh-huh. Annnd?" because it wasn't making any sense. Then he said "Well, it wasn't for me..." and then he made me sit down and handed me a big box. I had no idea what it was - I figured a new monitor, at best.

So when I opened the big box and found a smaller box inside, I was flummoxed. I opened up the littler box and out it came... and I just sat there looking at it and I looked at him and he said "I wanted to wait, but I knew there was nowhere I could hide it on you here, and you've been wanting one for so long, I couldn't wait to give it to you..."

I just sat there and looked at it and cried. He went on to say that he knew I always wanted one, so that I could take my writing with me, and he wanted to encourage me to write more. He said that he knew it was one of the things that truly made me happy, and he wanted to encourage that as well. I kept apologising for crying and hugging him and crying some more. Eventually I got myself together but I was so damn overwhelmed and happy I couldn't help myself. He was a pretty good actor - I was convinced something was seriously wrong.

Of course, now that I have it, I am suffering from Block - hello there Irony, been a while. Don't make yourself too comfortable now.

My kids have to be "assessed" by an "occupational therapist" on their "fine motor skills" because their writing is apparently "a concern and illegible at points". Right, because when you are 6 and 9 your penmanship needs to be impeccable. Give me an effing break. S hit the roof when I told him. I gave in though and signed the damn document, hopefully they can get this "assessment" over the summer.

Hammer made an interesting point - the school is losing a lot of their special needs kids this year, so they are probably grasping at straws to keep their funding. But anyone who's met my kids would hardly find them to be falling under the "special needs" category. But whatever.

Also, report cards came in and their grades decreased (not so much for K, but definitely for C - her teacher is a cow, as some so delicately put it. Remind me to insert rant here later).

Ok, time to go do work type stuff I guess.... I find it hard to pull myself away from this thing though...

SHINY TOY HURRAH

So M's baby arrived! Sunday March 25, little Samantha Rose arrived on the scene at a whopping 6 lbs 9 oz - pretty big for a premie if you ask me! She's gorgeous and has a full head of hair. However it always breaks my heart to see them in incubators full of tubes and holes. She was born on M's Dad's birthday, so needless to say that man is extra-proud right now. My Dad came and got me C & K last night and he took the kids to his house while I walked to the hospital to go visit her - may as well be walking, it's spring now and I need it. In any case, the baby's beautiful, and smells that wonderful newborn smell, and coos and is just about perfect.

And while I'm so happy for them, I'm also a little bit ripped to pieces.

Tonight C has brownies and I have to go help my Dad install a CD-burning program because he's suddenly in the mood to make CDs again.

Oh. Medieval Times. Right. That was good and fun and full of brutish yawlping and ripping meat off bones and overpriced novelty drinks. Ours was the Blue Knight and he totally lost and we didn't care, we just kept on yelling and S kept on shouting "You're my boy, Blue!" just like in that movie and it got a few laughs and then suddenly half the men in our section were yelling it intermittently. I got the flower hurrah, and remembered why I loved the Executioner drink. Pomtinis on the bus on the way there and back and drunken text-messaging to pass the time (apologies to those who were recipients of my ramblings, although the responses indicated you were also drinking haha). Then cabbing it home from his workplace. Tumble bumble into the door. I was the happy level of drunkenness where I didn't have to worry about being sick or spinny. Just a lighter head, a lighter heart. I needed it.

I have other things to say but my mind keeps hitting the pause button.

Time to get the kids to school.

So the weekend in Toronto? Um. I don't even know where to begin.

As soon as my mom came to pick us up, C ran out and slipped on some ice and the ice was wet and melty so therefore so was her pants. We got her fixed up and changed and then stopped at Tim Horton's and sat with some coffee before going to the VIA station. I won a free donut which we grabbed for the trip there. I don't know if it's a Portuguese thing (more likely a European thing) but we have this thing where we always pack food when we take long trips. C was in her glory because my mom brought a mini-cooler bag and it was full of cookies and iced tea and strawberries and all sorts of goodies. "Look mom, there's even room for the donut!"

The train ride up was lovely, though our group was separated a little because the train was booked solid. C and I got to sit together, but my mother ended up having to sit by someone who was - believe it or not - playing World of Warcraft on his laptop the whole trip down. C was just beside herself with giddiness over the ride. I let her have the window seat of course and she was fascinated and happy.



She brought her mp3 player and hummed quietly to herself while munching on a cookie. At every stop the train took she asked me how many more stops till ours. I explained which one we were at, and some information about it, and how much longer till we got there. She got more and more restless the closer we got.

When we got to Union Station it was chaos as usual. My mother had never been on a train either so she didn't know what to expect. She was fascinated by the underground - "it's like a whole other city down here!" We took underground paths to the Royal York which she thought was cool.

We went up the winding staircase to the lobby of the hotel and it was just beautiful. They allowed us to check in early which was awesome. The lobby was full of tv & radio types, celebrating some sort of Rogers event. My mother had the foresight to ask if the hotel took corporate rates - looks like they did, and being that we both work for the institution that we do, we were eligible for the rate - hurrah!

We got to our room and it was so, so lovely. Taking photos didn't quite give the idea but it was very spacious, and the view outside our window was of the CN Tower. C really loved that.



C jumped on one of the beds and declared it was HERS, and that me and my mother would have to share the other one. She flopped into a million pillows and the look of happiness on her face was like a little slice of heaven to me. When we were finished unpacking things and exploring the room, we then went down and out into the world to head to the mall. Shockingly my mother had never been to the Eaton Centre - wonders never cease.

She and I had a mini-argument over going via The Bay - she was convinced it was a shop on its own and would not lead us to the shopping mecca that is Eaton Centre. I managed to sway her as it was pretty nippy outside. We got in and once we got into the mall proper, the two of them were like kids at Christmas - they didn't know where to go first. Information overload.

C found a Claire's and there was no question - that was to be our first stop. We traversed quite a few shops, including one of my favorites - I mean who doesn't love Old Navy right? By the end of the excursion both C and my mom were just dog tired, and we agreed to take a cab back (Yes yes I know that's pretty damn lazy considering how close the hotel was but it was freezing out and we did have a lot (A LOT) of bags and who was I to argue over a 5 dollar trip?).

We got back to our room and my mom changed into pj pants for a bit before we'd go out for dinner. C was panicking thinking it was bed time - I explained to her, it's just the way my mom operates. We turned on the tv and watched the last 20 minutes of "Man in the Iron Mask" while my mom "rested her eyes" for a bit. C whispered to me in a conspiratorial tone that "if Mootie (her pet name for my mom) doesn't wake up when it's time to go, we're leaving without her ok?"

We ended up going to Casey's for dinner which was fine by C. After a 20 minute wait for our table ("Mum, it feels like I've spent half the day waiting for things!" Welcome to Toronto, kid) we were seated and fed pretty quickly. The food was fabulous but the portions were just huge - you could have fed 3 people with my plate alone. My caesar came with a big chili pepper hanging off the glass rather than the typical accoutrements of lemon and such. C thought we should keep it to bring to S but I wasn't about to carry a chili pepper in my purse for the rest of the excursion.

After supper we walked around the city for a bit. I wanted C to see how beautiful it can be at night (homeless people sleeping on the sidewalk and all). The skydome's big light beams were flashing in the sky. "Look mom! The bat signal!" That's my girl.

We got back to the hotel and got into our pj's and vegged out on the beds & chairs. Mrs. Doubtfire was on and C had never seen it so we had snacks (more snacks were purchased elsewhere through the day because I refuse to pay 5 bucks for a small bag of hotel goodie basket M&Ms) and chit-chatted and just relaxed. C probably didn't get to sleep until about 1 am. What the hell, it's March Break right? My mom fell asleep at ten and then woke up again at 2 - I was still awake, so she decided it was time to talk. So she did. Till about 4. Then she fell asleep again and it was just me, staring at the ceiling trying to will myself to sleep. I finally managed to but then woke up around 7, up like a rocket. Stupid internal clock.

Cinnabons and hotel coffee for breakfast, while C had pop tarts (the mini cooler strikes again!) and then we packed up and went to the train station. The departures area requires we go into the station proper. This thrilled them as - well - it really is a sight to see. The opulence of Union Station is worth seeing at least once. Then we found a fruit vendor in the area where we board the trains so C and I got some apples and pears to munch on while mom watched the bags. I spotted a photo booth so C and I went in and took some photos - it's a thing we seem to do every time we have a mother-daughter outing. Then C convinced my mom to go in with her - the photos came out pretty goofy which was just great.

We got on the train and this time managed to acquire a set of four seats facing each other. Surrounded by bags, C settled in for another 2 hour trip.




If only we knew what was in store.

The rest of this story some of you may have already read/heard about from me, but for the rest of you, hold on to your hats.

We had just left the Guelph train station when I saw it happen. My daughter thankfully was oblivious - daydreaming and listening to music, looking at a book. She felt the thump-thump, and heard the train's brakes, and smelled the burning of the brakes, but didn't know what really happened until I explained it (very briefly).

A Toyota Corolla failed to stop at a railway crossing near Woolwich-Guelph Townline. As a result our train hit it. I'm not sure why - maybe they didn't see the lights and hear the bell and train horn blaring, but the car was trying to outrun the train and I saw the train hit its rear end clear off. It flew into the air and it spun like the tazmanian devil and flew into a ditch - metal flew all over the place. And then the car's engine caught fire. Blood and shrapnel everywhere. The train had tried to break but how the hell do you stop a moving train right? So they burned the breaks out and then we were stuck in the train for three hours while police and everyone tried to sort things out. In the end they ended up paying for cabs to take people to their final destinations.

I texted S on his cell when it happened and immediately he called me. "Are you ok? What happened?" and in the background his buddy JG said "Was she driving, is that why they hit something?" Leave it to him to try and diffuse something with humor. It worked a little but I was still edgy and S could tell. I told him NOT to tell K anything until we got home, just tell him we would be a little late. I wanted to tell K after we were already home so that he could see for himself that we were safe, and so his little 6 year old self wouldn't worry unnecessarily. S agreed to this but said what about his 28 year old self?

I just keep thinking about how I saw it happen and it seemed so surreal. My mother had no idea what was going on - "why did we stop? Why aren't we moving?" because she obviously didn't hear me shout "oh my god we just hit a car!" There were three passengers - two women and a nine year old boy. The boy was pronounced dead at the scene and the women were airlifted to a nearby hospital. The women are still in critical condition. The engineers have asked for a leave of absence apparently - who can blame them? How do you make amends with yourself over that, even though it was beyond your control to avoid it?

C said she never wanted to see a train again. I tried to explain to her I've been on one thousands of times, and that this sort of thing very very rarely happens, but she wasn't convinced. Today she seems to be okay with it, and has said she'd be willing to try it again, but could Daddy please come this time too?



Frankly while I remained calm the whole time, after we got home I was a wreck. Really shaken up and I just keep thinking my god imagine how the engineers feel, you know? Here's the thing. The train hit the tail of the car. I bet if the car had about 5 more seconds, it would have made it across the tracks. Five more seconds. If their day had been behind by five more seconds, they'd be alive, and it would be just another close call, lesson learned. I keep thinking about that. Five more seconds.

And now I hug my kids for five seconds longer and am just so damn thankful we're all okay.

So. How was YOUR weekend?

It's really funny when K sings that. Almost as good as when he was two and sang Ween's "Push the l'il daisies" as "pushaleeloodizziesamakacaba!"

I wish I would have recorded that.

C literally sprang out of bed this morning, she is so excited about the weekend. I'm bringing a camera so I'll post some photos of our adventures maybe. Maybe.

I just stared blankly at nothing for a few minutes there. I think I may have to hit the hay early tonight, as I've been up till 3 am for the past week or so and then waking up at 6 am. I think it's the weather that's making me squirrely.

Did I mention I was almost plowed over by an F150 the other day? Scary stuff when you drive a little putt-putt Neon. Stupid white-out conditions.

The council meeting went ok but there is that point in the evening when a lull comes over everyone and it's not the comfortable kind you get among friends, but the awkward kind where you scramble to find something to fill up the empty space. I recommend the fettucini w/shrimp and spinach though. Normally I get the pizza there but I had a hankering for pasta. And I was a good girl and didn't drink - I didn't feel up to it.

It's weird that daylight savings is so early in March. Well actually it's weird that we still use the concept of daylight savings at all, but in general it's weird to have it so early. This is bumming C out as it means we're losing an hour of our weekend this weekend. I explained to her it would just be an hour less of sleep - this seemed to placate her a little.

Ok it's that time again. (No, not dishes for a change. School!) I'm also going to get our train tickets this morning, woo!

Love is when you're cold, and the blankets are huddled around you, but you're still cold, so you tuck your feet in under his legs and he doesn't move even though your feet are freezing. Instead he pulls you in and acts like added padding around you to get you warmer quicker. And then he doesn't complain when an hour later you shove him away because now you're too hot, and the blankets are shed off, and you're dry-mouthed and tired. He only gently calls you a brat when you beg him to get you some water, because you are so very tired that you can't even move a pinky. And then he'll tuck you in because you're getting cold again, and play with your hair till you fall asleep because he knows you secretly love that.

My darling S is taking me out somewhere next weekend (not this weekend because of my trip with my mom & daughter) because he says we don't have enough time just to ourselves, outside of the hour or so after the kids are in bed which really doesn't count because we're both so dog-tired we just stare blankly at screens or books or whatever till we drop into a coma. So that's a nice prospect - it's nice to have things to look forward to. It makes this terrible weather a little less depressing.

My cousins in Barrie are planning our third Crazy-Go-Nuts gathering - I'm super excited about that because it's literally been years since we managed to have one.

Tonight there's a council meeting but it's at a local restaurant for a change, which is nice. Because a good caesar may make it easier to take all the politics and subterfuge.

And it burns, burns, burns. I have that damn song in my head. My head which still feels like it's in a vise, skull quietly being crushed bit by bit; bit by bit.

Ok time to do some dishes (I know! Yes again!) before heading to work.

Don't you hate it when you're in the middle of a dream and something wakes you up and you grasp at it like straw and it sifts through your fingers? And you spend most of the morning thinking you've missed something important. Yeah I hate that too.

Planned a trip to Toronto w/my mother & daughter. We're spending the weekend at the Royal York and shopping. C is just tickled pink and frankly I'm pretty happy at the prospect as well. We're taking the train down and back, which is also exciting for her as she's never been on a train before. We're going down the weekend of the 10th of March, this should be a good kick-off to her March break.

The kids saw Bridge to Terabithia yesterday with my motherinlaw. They both liked it very much and played Terabithia in the backyard all afternoon.

Ok time to get to work or somesuch.