Lakes and Cowboy Hats.

Just because I promised.
This was my definition of happiness at the end of July.

Time to F?*& It.

The Cosmos is telling people something this week. I am not the only one learning to say Fuck It.
Check out All & Sundry. She funny.

I'm getting a haircut today. How short? Dunno. We'll see.

Reading the Onion Is Fun.

I forgot to include these articles from The Onion in my last post. Here they are, along with the reasons why I think they are funny.

This one's funny because when I approached my little bro about why his razor was making that noise (it buzzes, yet looks like your average Gillette Sensor Excel - only orange), he not only gave me the speech you hear in the commercial, but informed me it has FIVE blades. I think there's even one on the back of the razor for those precision shaving moves.

This one's funny too because, well, it's sex in the White House. And renovations must be made to "meet the sexual demands of the nation's president and his advisors, and to fulfill the lurid fantasies and carnal desires of high-ranking foreign dignitaries who visit the United States." I just think that's funny. You don't have to click on it. No one's forcing you.

I like The Onion.

Shift in Focus.

There are times when you realize something about you has changed and sometimes, it’s too late to be part of the change. The change has already happened and you realize it’s done. And so you sit there and think hmm, that’s funny, I would not have said/done/thought/put up with that a year ago. What happened? Huh. Somewhere along the way, I must have changed/let go/stopped caring.

There are other times when you feel different. Something is going on – you can feel it. And that’s when you’re part of the change. You’re actually in the process of changing and you’re not so sure you want to notice what’s going on, just in case it destroys the magic at work. You know, to avoid self-sabotage, because usually these changes happen for a good reason. You think to yourself hmm, weird, I’m not sure how to react to that, my first reflex would be to [insert course of action here] but now I want to [insert appropriate alternative course of action here].

That’s what I’m going through right now.
And it’s weird. It’s good – but it’s weird.

I feel strangely at peace with the world. Don’t get me wrong, I still have all the worries I’ve always had. But somehow, they are not affecting me as much. That is because gradually, I am becoming a huge fan of the Fuck It Response. The Fuck It Response is great. The Fuck It Response has allowed me to go back to work and, although today is the conclusion of my first 2 ½-day week back, I am satisfied with what I’ve done. I haven’t actually done anything. And I feel okay about it. I think it’s called Learning to Work Within Your New Limitations. Can’t do something, don’t do it. And certainly don’t feel shitty about not being able to do it. Do what you can. Accept it. Move on. Fuck It.

This, I noticed, applied at work this week. And there was much rejoicing, as H says.

This, I noticed, is starting to apply to what people do and say. Do you realize what this means? It means I am almost rid of my tiresome and taxing habit of feeling responsible for everything around me! How awesome is that? I think I have to update the letter I wrote to my kid a few months ago.

Dear Little Girl in my Belly,

My poor little monkeygirl, you have a psycho mom who does things to people in her mind and that makes her feel better. Just a friendly warning - she will probably do this again when you become a teenager. You know, when you insist on wearing clothes that make you look naked/make your real face disappear underneath five coats of foundation and other cosmetic things/refuse to listen to Wu-Tang/do fuck all with your life at 25/total her brand new turquoise Segway. (If Daddy ever agrees to let her have one. He still has not agreed to the Vespa plan. But that is another story, which we can discuss at length with him when you start asking for one too.)

Your mom will deal with it. Because now, not only does your mom do things to people in her mind - now, she knows the meaning of Fuck It. And she will attempt to better understand the concept so she can not only apply it to all the funny unexplained things you will unleash on this family, but also explain it to you and spare you years of unnecessary self-inflicted guilt.

Love and monkeykisses,

Your mom xoxo

Wild Flowers of Eastern Canada.

I’ve had an idea for a « project » for a couple of months now, and I figured out how I was going to go about it when we returned from the cottage. My project is entitled Wild Flowers of Eastern Canada. Why the pompous title? It’s the title of the book I’m ripping the pages out of. Yes – you read right. I manage a library, yet I rip pages out if books. That’s okay, no need to panic. This book was being discarded. It was falling apart. It has a big blue “withdrawn” stamp on the title page. So I saved it. This book is now part of my small recycling project.

Now that we know no one will report me for defacing public property, on to the project. My first step was to choose the pictures of, well, wild flowers of Eastern Canada that I thought were the prettiest. They are all nice, being delicate 2 ½ by 4 inch paintings of said flowers, but some actually look better. That’s how far I’ve gotten in the actual project so far. I’ve got two piles: the yes pile (containing 16 paintings) and the maybe pile (containing 14 paintings). In my yes pile, I’ve got interesting flowers like Canada Lily, Fireweed, Chicory, Pitcher Plant, and Hedge Bindweed…just to name a few of the prettiest.

The idea, as you might have gathered, is to ‘mount’ the paintings onto pretty paper and stick them into glass frames. I’ve already paid a visit to my favorite art supplies shop and got all my materials: glass picture frames and pretty paper for the ‘mount’ around the pictures. All I need to do now I make up my mind on how many frames I want and cut around the paintings. Problem is, I’ve got room for ten paintings in my glass frames. How to choose? Have a lottery? Spend a lot of time staring at them? Throw them in the air and see which ones land closest to me? I don’t know. And it’s funny that something so trivial is actually keeping me from actually starting this project. I should just get more frames. That way I could frame all 30 of them. Heehee. Yeah that sounds about right. And if there are too many frames and not enough room for them, I’ll give some away.

Now – how do I get the Matrix posters to magically disappear from the living room without my husband noticing? Hmmm…yet another obstacle. Challenging! I’ll keep you posted.

Three Observations and One Bottom Line.

Good morning! It is a beautiful day out there today. The sun is shining, the birds were chirping a minute ago (which is why I am awake) and …I am going to stay inside all day. Which is not dramatic, but slightly unpleasant. Why will I be staying inside, you ask? Because of my generosity. Now do not get me wrong, avid reader: the following comments are in no way directed to the recipient of my generosity. She is a sweet girl, and has been a good friend for many years. They are directed at me.

First Observation: I Am Generous with my Friends and Loved Ones.

This is good. This makes me a Good Person. And it is purely altruistic, too. I am not doing this for profit or recognition. I have learned (apparently not quite) that being generous sometimes leads to selflessness (I think this is the proper use for this term). Selflessness is also a good character trait, but in healthy doses. To cut to the chase, selflessness often makes me accept to help someone with a task and completely forget myself in the process. Which leads us to the Second Observation.

Second Observation: There is Such a Thing as Equivalence of Things.

Abstract as this may seem, it is true. Concrete example for you: usually (unless you’re being had), four quarters equal a whole dollar. That is equivalence. In French this is a common saying: échanger quatre trente sous pour une piastre. Very often, I’ll give you two bucks for your four quarters. I’ll give more than what you’re asking for. I am sure this resides in the fact I want people to appreciate me, I’ve been given the lecture quite often enough, thank you. The point is, I’ve done it again. Which leads us to…Observation Number Three.

Third Observation: It’s the Fucking Weekend.

I know I am not working right now. I know I am at home doing housewifey things. But I still have a concept of what is a weekday, and what is a weekend. And today, unless some evil gnome has fucked around with my calendar, it’s Saturday. I don’t work weekends. One could argue helping out a friend is technically not work. It’s helping out a friend. I agree wholeheartedly. I am feeling guilty bitching about helping her out, I assure you. But this post also a tricksy way for me to procrastinate, which I am the Queen of. I think having a baby will probably give me a couple of reality checks in that department…Which leads me to my Bottom Line.

My Bottom Line:

Because of my generosity, I have accepted to help out a friend with a pretty hefty translation job (i.e. translate it for her) that is due Monday morning and I should have better evaluated the time it would take and now I know I will spend the whole weekend in front of my computer. Oh – and I’m not a translator. Oh – and I’m not working on it right now. I am posting this. I am a terrible person. Okay, maybe not terrible. Just a procrastinator. I don’t like being a procrastinator. Okay – I’m getting to work now.


Phew! That was therapeutic! Thanks for bearing with me.

...I hope it rains. That would help.

Projects. Time. Happiness.

I’ve been avoiding writing here today.
I don’t want to just rush into things and let you guys know what sex our baby is.

But since I can’t get a hold of some of you in person, and others already know, I guess there is no need for suspense anymore! So, throng of readers, H and I are expecting a baby girl! We are both ecstatic. Truly. I didn’t know it was possible to be giddy like this. I was pacing yesterday afternoon, I was so giddy.

We let out the customary ‘merde’ (it lasted half a second, really), because we wanted a boy so bad (I was honestly SO convinced it was a boy!), but now H has realized she will be Daddy’s Little Girl and I have realized this is the best thing that could ever happen to me, we’re really, really happy. So voilà for the news!

In other things of interest to me lately, I have been truly silly this week and I wrote a whole post that I just forgot to put online. So here is what you should have been reading on Monday. I'm posting this just because it is relevant to stuff I wanted to mention today. But I will talk about that stuff tomorrow instead, because I care about your eyes and do not want you squinting at the screen and rubbing your eyes at the end of my post today. That, my friends, is how much I love you. Just sayin'.

August 14th, 2006.
Lil’ Electric Frog.

The event I’ve been waiting for with much anticipation is almost here: on Wednesday, H and I are going to see Shrimp on my first sonogram! Given he/she will be 7 to 9 inches long at the end of this month, Shrimp will henceforth be referred to as Frog. He/she moves all the time! And it feels more like little summersaults in the morning, and more like kicking/jumping jacks/tae-bo in the afternoon. Pretty amazing! As soon as H puts his hand on my belly, Frog stops moving. I’ve told H he already has the calming hands power. Three cheers for H!

I am going for lunch and a little knit-along this afternoon at D’s. She’s figured out the pattern for the little cashmerino (yes – cashmere and merino – yum.) bootees I'm trying to knit. The pattern seemed pretty straightforward but somehow, for an instruction-challenged person like me, who’s never knit anything but scarves and flat, squarish things (the operative term here being flat), it was a bit frustrating when it didn’t look anything like bootees. Well, okay, it did. I’m exaggerating again. But it didn’t look like the finished product on the picture, that’s for sure. I hope to be able to complete a pair for my sister’s baby girl before she is born…which could be anytime now. I’m going to be an aunt soon! The blankie is almost complete. I just can’t get no satisfaction from the border I’ve settled on. Its sucks! I am thinking I’ll just scrap wht I’ve done so far and start over, in a different color, keeping the core for the blanket, which is slate blue and moss green rectangles all knit together. More later. I know you guys are virtually glued to your screens waiting for me to update on my knitterly ventures. I just know it. Cheers.

Must. Think.

Hello, friends.

I really want to write about our two weeks away, but I don't know where to start.

My thoughts are...disconnected today. I can't put two sentences together. So fuck working on A's book, and fuck thinking at all. I'm going to knit today. And watch movies. And not eat Pizza Pockets for lunch. Because they actually taste like garbage once you've eaten half of one. But you finish it anyway just in case it stops tasting like garbage.

It always sort of throws me off when I can't put two sentences together, or organize my thoughts in a logical manner. That's okay, off days are how the cosmos lets you know you're fragile and human. Somehow, it always makes me feel inaccurate and awkward. Sad and depressed.

I am suddenly thankful for the row counter D gave me. I won't have to concentrate on counting rows. Just turn the knob after each row I knit. Sweet.

I am thankful for the sudden coolness in the air, which enables me not to break into a sweat at the thought of standing up.

I am going to go finish knitting my sister's baby's blankie, now.