Friday, February 28, 2003

Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Fabulous
The Ice Queen has retreated into the Palace of Freon to store up her reserves for the big Swank ‘n’ Skank tonight.

In the meantime, enjoy these quality blogs:
Chip Tijuana: The Blog: A nice mix of serious political commentary and good clean fun. Well, mostly clean.
Sister Staceypatrick A brand new blog. Just like talking to Stace. Is that a compliment? You decide. (And I’ve known her long enough to know that the good sister has just said “Bite Me” and made a rude gesture.)
Blamblog: For all your Orwellian needs. Features a mad doll, a friendly but duplicitous stuffed frog, and the ubiquitous tahini and banana sandwiches. And there seems to be some sort of warrant out for the Ice Queen. Vive la resistance!

Today’s Music Fit for Funky Royalty: Jaymz Bee and the Royal Jelly Orchestra. Songs like “The Man in the Saucy Suit”, “You Put the Babe in Baby” and “Music to Watch Girls By”

Quote of the day as said to Boomer 5 minutes ago: "I'm having bottom problems lately."

Thursday, February 27, 2003

Aye, Captain.

In honour of tomorrow's Swank 'n' Skank drinking evening with select office colleagues, I offer the following quote:

"The harsh, useful things of the world, from pulling teeth to digging potatoes, are best done by men who are as starkly sober as so many convicts in the death-house, but the lovely and useless things, the charming and exhilarating things, are best done by men with, as the phrase is, a few sheets in the wind."
~H.L. Mencken

Tramps Like Us

As you may have noticed, Blogger is erasing the penultimate posts. Until that gets fixed, I’ll try to provide one value sized post to last you all day. Kinda like Big Red gum.

The Desk Move
Yep, I’m cleaning out ye olde desk today and moving one desk over. Some interesting things I’ve found in my desk:
Flip flops with big yellow silk flowers
Two bathing suits
5 pairs of shoes
Two pairs of boots
Two purses
Corn chip
Twelve cinnamon sticks
Container of cloves
Canadian Tire Money
Boggle game
Squirt gun
Mechanical bug
Yo Yo strings
Wallace and Grommit jigsaw puzzle
Articles I tore out about Dear Friend Dave®
3 containers of hair gel
assorted Kinder Egg prizes
and……The Stress Bag

The Stress Bag
The Stress Bag brings back happy and not so happy memories. I used to work at Sources (a miniscule publishing company) with Sister Staceypatrick and other degenerates. My title there was She Who Must Be Obeyed. Or, that’s what I was called, anyway. I had a whip and everything. It was the sort of job that was so stressful that we used to do really fun things to blow off steam, such as:
Packing up the contents of the General Manager’s Desk and UPS-ing it to his house the morning he got back from vacation
Three hour beer lunches
Changing everyone’s desktop icons to Minesweeper
Someone emptying my desk contents and filling them with Styrofoam peanuts
Glamour Puss Day, when we all wore cocktail dresses

Anyhow, when I left the job, a colleague gave me a red felt bag tied with a red ribbon that was filled with strange toys and things from his childhood. He told me that it was my stress bag. I was so touched (no, not that way!) that I carry it from job to job to this day.

What’s Playing in My Head: Born to Run by Springsteen?! Where did that come from?

Wednesday, February 26, 2003


I am sitting at my desk drinking a Diet Dr. Pepper .

Suddenly, I have a flat stomach, and I’m wearing satin shorts, a satin cap and a satin jacket (pink and yellow).

I am 11 years old at the Minden arena’s Friday Roller Skating Night. It’s July.

The vending machine dispenses Dr. Pepper. My favourite song is “Into the Night” by Eddie Rabbit. I also like “Hot Rods Hearts”.

I have spent the whole afternoon swimming in the lake. I have a tan. (Tans aren’t dangerous yet).

Life is good.

Tuck me in, please
My brain is all used up with braving the ongoing cold, putting up with TTC madness (last night we were ousted when the bus got a flat tire) and figuring out how to move a website from FrontPage to Dreamweaver with a minimum of hassle. Oh, and my desk is moving over one cubicle, so I have to pack.

Sometimes, I wish I were 6 years old again. Mom would pick me up and drive me home. When I got home, supper would be cooking. I go change into my jammies and watch TV or play with Lego. Supper would be something like Bangers and Mash with creamed corn and peas. Then I’d have a bath and go to bed. Why do kids want to grow up so badly?

Tuesday, February 25, 2003

Suck and Blow
Just came from the dentist. They use the hose thing to suck your mouth out, then they blow water in, then they blow air in. I hate that.

Anyway, I was just thinking: who consciously decides to be a Dental Hygienist? I can understand people “falling” into other jobs like garbage man or memo writer for a Bank, but Dental Hygiene takes a lot of training. You decide to be one. You work to be one. You really have to want it.

Other than that, I have just found out that Yuk Yuk’s downtown has an amateur night on Monday’s. This is something I’ve always wanted to do. I must look into this. You have to be one of the first 15 people to phone Monday morning at 11 to get a spot. I don’t know if you go on the same night. Anyhow, what do you think? Am I ripe for public humilation?

Oh, and I wrote a lovely long post about what a poem is, but blogger ate it and I can't be bothered to rewrite it. A poem is whatever you say it is. And it don't have to Rhyme or even be gramatical. Colin wrote a poem recently. here it is:


The word play bodes well for a career in poetry. God help me.

Monday, February 24, 2003

Six Million Dollar Cat is back on antibiotics. We are actually looking into Pet Health Insurance. Seems weird to pay $15 a month for your cat. Maybe I could get sponsorship. We could shave advertising into his sides…..
Texaco: Put a Tiger in Your Tank!
Frosted Flakes, They’re GRRRRREAT!
CAT Scans: Alberta Private Health Clinic
Bob’s Tennis Racquet Emporium
Birds: They’re not just for breakfast anymore!
The New Microsoft Mouse
Got milk?

What Is A Poem?

Faithful reader Chip writes: “What makes a poem?”

Well, Chip, that’s why I majored in poetry. THERE ARE NO RULES. Cool, eh?

Poems tend to focus on a single feeling or event rather than tell a story. Some old-fashioned poems tell stories, but they rhyme too, so let us speak no more of them. Poems tend to be more descriptive. Modern poems rarely rhyme, but use language cleverly.

My recommended poet for beginning male readers is Charles Bukowski. He’s rude, crude, and very funny. Some say he’s misogynistic, but I like him. Best book of his: Love is a Dog From Hell.

Go buy it. I’ll wait here.

Why I Don’t Wear Pants

On Saturday night I met a new person who was amazed that I don’t wear pants. “But what do you wear around the house?” she cried.

Perhaps this poem from the fine people at will explain:

Matching Slacks
by Lloyd Kriegel
Striving for coordination,
I seek out slacks to match my tops.
Yet out of reach seems true salvation.
My retail outings end as flops.
I try on slacks and say "Well, Maybe."
In dressing rooms I picked up scabies.
Come end of year, I'll still be pantless,
Empty, broken, fickle, madness!

And in answer to the earlier question, I alternate between the French maid costume and the Princess Leia’s outfit when captured by Jabba.

Quote of the Weekend
Saturday at 6pm chez nous.
Me: Okay, I’m leaving now.
Frank: Okay, have fun at your Girls Night.
Colin (age 2): BAD GIRLS! (laughs hysterically)

Also, my friend who couldn’t think up a blog id is now Sister Staceypatrick. You thought I’d forget didn’t you?

Friday, February 21, 2003

Am I a nerd?

Crabby claims I’m a nerd for some of my Soundtrack of Life choices. (Some of which, I may point out, she likes too, so PHHHHHPPPPT!)
Am I a nerd? Let’s see.
Spent morning figuring out how to run two Javascripts on one web page.
Dress up when it’s not necessary
Don’t smoke
Like Hitchhiker’s and Python
Can quote most of Caddyshack verbatim
Use words like verbatim
Don’t drink White Zinfandel (nerd wine).

Umm….oh noooooooooooooooooo!

More Sweater Poem Fun

The Ice Queen needs to stay warm. That's why she appreciates a good sweater poem:

Oh, Cableknit
by Lloyd Kriegel

Oh, Cableknit.
You may be made of wool,
But wearing you I feel way cool.
In body heat you keep me wrapped,
My temp so high I might just nap.
My faith in you runs very deep.
Because your fibers come from sheep.
And while you often make me itch.
It doesn't mean that I'm your bitch.

Thursday, February 20, 2003

“Oh say does that star spangled t-shirt yet linger
In the back on a rack, oh so lonely and brave.”

So I was down at the Eaton’s Centre this lunch looking to pick up more “Bear in the Big Blue House” videos before I go crackers. I was looking at a sale rack in a clothing store and noticed that all of the items with American flags on them (which was very trendy after 9/11) were marked down to $10 – super cheap. “Well, that’s just silly,” I thought. Then, I saw one I liked. But I just couldn’t wear something with the American flag on it. I considered crossing the flag out, but that political statement would cause people to talk to me and I hate that.

What’s Playing in My Head: I’m Afraid of Americans by David Bowie. No, really, I didn’t just make that up to go with the theme.

Oh, and I thought of someone to be me in my bio movie: Cyndi Lauper. Just because she’s so cute and dresses so nifty.

Yes, Virginia, there is a blog. And a Glencoe too. It’s kind of like Brigadoon……but with more livestock. And less kilts.

Sorry I was out yesterday. Colin had an apple juice hangover. They’re naaaaaaasty.

Anyhow, back to the frivolity:

Set-up: My Dad taught Auto Shop at my high school (pop 400) with blamb’s dad, who taught Geography.

Bryan’s Variety. Main Street Glencoe. Tumbleweeds roll by. A cow lows. A John Deere combine rumbles past. The Fords rust.
Mr. Lamb & my mom and dad chat. Mr. Lamb gets into his car, suddenly leans out the window and says:
Mr. Lamb: Hey, I was on your daughter’s blog the other day.
Mom: Whaa?
Dad: Huh?
Mr. Lamb: Her blog!
Mom: Her blurg? What’s that?
Mr. Lamb: Oh. (Looks embarrassed. Wonders whether this is some secret thing I haven’t told my parents about) Uh, it’s like a website.
Mom: Suze doesn’t have a website, does she?
Dad: I don’t think so…..

Mom was in town yesterday and I promised to send them the url. So: Hi Dad! Hi Mom! Welcome to the blog!

I bet not every blogger has their former geography teacher reading. Next thing you know, the whole population of Glencoe will be reading. Both of them!

Old Glencoe Joke:
“They had to close the Glencoe library.”
“Someone took the book out.”

Oh, and Mom says in my bio movie I’d be played by Meg Ryan, when she was only a little flaky.

Tuesday, February 18, 2003

A Poetry Dedication
For Boomer, who likes patio weather, and for all you people sadly staring out the window wondering “When, oh when, will spring arrive?”

Patio Sweaters
by Trevor Kriegel

Patio! Patio! Patio!
Spring's back in town
And I've got a radio!

It's patio time!
We'll drink drinks that call for limes!
The temperature is getting better,
But I still need a lightweight sweater!
It's patio time!

And another spring poem from Nana:
“Spring has sprung
The grass has riz
I wonder where
The birdies is.”

Smells Like Teen Spirit

So today the subway was closed down and evacuated because of a suspicious chlorine smell.

Yep, you know something wrong on the TTC when it smells clean.

Ice Queen: The Movie
If you were casting the movie of your autobiography, who would play all the roles?
Some of these are based on looks, some on personality, some just gut instinct.

Frank: young Jimmy Stewart mixed with just a pinch of Chris Issak
Colin: ALF
Stacey: Jennifer Aniston
Patrick: Bruce Cockburn
Crabby: Catherine Zeta-Jones
Pablo: Billy Crystal in beard mode
Boomer: Woody from Toy Story
Dear Friend Dave®: Brendan Fraser
Keltic Kate: Amanda Marshall
Mom: Sally Field
Dad: Tim Allen
Aunt Susan: Elizabeth Taylor
Uncle Lionel: John Cleese

But who would play me? What do you think? And Velma from Scooby Doo is NOT the answer I’m looking for.

Monday, February 17, 2003

Brain Reboot
Dexy's Midnight Runners sang Come On Eileen.
Big Shiny Ice Queen: The Album
As promised, my personal soundtrack:
Daysleeper by REM
Baby I’m A Star by Prince
Two Princes by Spin Doctors
Someone Saved My Life Tonight by Elton John
Solsbury Hill by Peter Gabriel
Oh What A Night by some 70s group
Raining Men by anybody
It’s the End of the World as We Know It by Great Big Sea
House At Pooh Corner by Loggins and Messina
Come On Eileen by (My mind’s a blank! Alcohol finally killed some brain cells!)
Lovecats by The Cure
Sulk by Billy Bragg
Hooked on a Feeling by….Dr…..Dr. Dre? Dr. Hook? Can’t remember.
Closing Time by Leonard Cohen
The Old Apartment by Barenaked Ladies
Me Ghile Mear by Sting and The Chieftains
Why Should I Cry for You By Sting
Oh, anything by Sting’s good. Well, except Love Is Stronger Than Justice Whoa, that was a stinker!
Summer Highland Falls by Billy Joel
Captain Jack by Billy Joel
Only the Good Die Young by Billy Joel
Skyline Pigeon by Elton John
If It Makes You Happy by Sheryl Crow
What a Good Boy by Barenaked Ladies
And there are probably many more.

I noticed that there aren’t any really recent songs here. It’s not that I don’t like any current songs, it’s just that they haven’t been time tested to become part of my personal soundtrack. You know, songs to pump you up before a job interview, songs to motivate you while you do dishes, songs to cheer you up when you’re down, songs to plot revenge by, songs to cry to – when necessary. How about yours?

Small Happinesses
With so much unhappy news and the daily cares, I though I’d stop to think about the little things that make me happy (in no particular order):
When the mean old cat sits on you laps and purrs
Giving the nice bus driver a Valentine and making his day
Latte and a pumpkin scone
Colin kisses
Frank kisses
Fresh sheets (oh dear, now I'm doing word association)
Warm radiator
Train sets, especially ones that go: Whoo-Whoo!
Frank doing silly things to make Colin laugh
New nylons
Sharp pencils
Bouncin’ and behavin’ hair with no visible roots
Tantrum free morning
Making all the TTC connections Just In Time
Good book (I’m losing interest in John Adams now that the revolution is over. I’m now rereading The Queen and I, about the royal family being ousted and forced to live in poverty. Very human, touching and funny too. Recommended!)
Clean kitchen
Motivational Music (i.e. your own personal soundtrack, more on this later)
Big thunderstorms with lightening and lots of rain
Trees, plants
Herbs (esp. rosemary, basil, dill)
Summer nights
Flowers (esp. gerber daisies)
Whose Line Is It Anyway?
Christopher Walken in Weapon of Choice
Trashy magazines (à la Cosmo or Jane)
Soft Serve ice cream
Walking in sunshine
Warm mug of tea to warm my still cold hands around
And there’s more, but I’ve got work to do. So go pet your cat, drink some tea and sharpen your pencil. Next post, my personal feel-good soundtrack.

What's Playing in My Head: Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves, I believe

Friday, February 14, 2003

My Valentine’s Present to You

From yesterday’s Globe & Mail: Saturday Night magazine is doing a swimsuit edition which includes Rick Mercer in the buff. Errr…with a strategically placed salmon. Gotta run down at lunch to see if it’s on the stands yet.

Brown, in case you were wondering

I’m the only person who has to drink a half bottle of wine to get the guts to dye her hair back to its natural colour.

Warm Fuzzies. Humbug!

Blamb loves to talk about war and diss me for thinking peace protests are useless. When I expressed this thought on his blog, many wrote back saying they are good because they foster a sense of camaraderie. Camaraderie: take that Bush!

My argument is that if we have all these people willing to work for good, we should work for something we can actually change. For example:

Every morning, Colin and I go by the corner of Wellesley and Sherbourne on the bus and watch them tearing down Wellesley Hospital (for those who haven’t been following, the Ontario government decided to close hospitals to save money. Yeah, that’s smart. Don’t get me started on that.) It was suggested that it be turned into homeless shelters or housing, but the government said the building was “unsuitable”. Gee, a bunch of rooms with beds and washrooms. I find that so very sad and wasteful. Get mad about that.

Thursday, February 13, 2003

Ice Queen Melts, Just a Wee Bit, for V-Day
When I was a kid, we moved a lot. Every two years or so. I lived in 8 houses before I went to university. In the last house, I didn’t even have a room because I was leaving in two months. And once my parents moved without telling me, but that's another story. Along with the time they tried to leave me at a gas station in Muskoka. Anyway......

This(the moving, if you remember that far back in this blog) made it difficult to fit in at school.

Grade 7 was the height of my miserable existence. I was picked on by brutish ugly girls in Grade 8 with mustaches (well, that’s how I remember it).They’d follow me home and kick me and taunt me. I was very unhappy.

Then, Valentine’s Day came and I received a Secret Admirer card. The envelope was typed on a typewriter (yes, I’m that old) in that ribbon that used to type in black and red. It was mailed to my house. I kept that card for years and whenever I thought nobody liked me or cared, I would look at that card.

Years later, I asked my Nana, my dad and my mom if any of them had sent it to me. (thinking this would have seemed a nice thing to do for their kid) They all said no and looked quite honestly surprised. This made me feel even more wonder that someone noticed me and went to that trouble. I suspect it was a teacher I got on well with (not like that, you pervert). I am touched to this day. (No, not like that. Stop it!)

There, I’ve waxed sentimental, now move along. Nothing to see here.

The Island of Unwanted Mugs
Just think about all the crappy mugs you’ve received in a lifetime. You probably have them from various jobs or charities or unimaginative secret Santa presents. You probably have one favourite, maybe two. The rest go to Goodwill or the Sally Ann after a feeble attempt to dispose of them at a garage sale.

What happens to all of the unwanted mugs? It’s kind of the same way with t-shirts, but you can always use unwanted ones for painting or rags. Mugs is mugs. And then there was the trend in the 70s of mugs with sayings on them, like Teachers Do It With Class.

Somewhere, they sit alone and crying. Wondering why no one loves them. Cursing their trailer trash epithets.

Take pity. Hug a mug today.

Duct Tape Forever
The States has recommended that citizens buy duct tape to protect themselves from biological weapons.

Sometimes, the jokes just write themselves.

About the War
I have to say that I think Canada’s move to send troops to Afghanistan is bloody brilliant. Afghanistan needs help and we don’t have anyone left to send to Iraq. But we’re not thumbing our nose at the US by doing this, so our imports of Buffalo Wings and bad TV won’t be cut off.

What's Playing in My Head: Surburbia by The Pet Shop Boys

Wednesday, February 12, 2003

I Choo-Choo-Choose You!
Just got back from purchasing Valentines for Colin to give out. When I was a kid, you bought a book of them, and had to tear all the perforations away. Then you have to examine the message of each one carefully to make sure you weren’t giving anyone the wrong idea. (Lisa Simpson could have learned from this.) And they were delightfully corny.

Today, they come in boxes and are all very commercial (Disney, etc.). I was, however, pleasantly surprised at the price ($2.99 marked down to $0.99). Colin has got Tazmanian Devil Valentines, because I thought they suited his personality. It was a tough decision. It’ll be much easier next year when he can choose his own.

So what’s everyone doing for V-Day? We’re ordering in Japanese. Mmmmmmm……mmmmm!

Nana Sayings

Crabby has offered a lovely quote from her Nana in the comments section. Nanas are the best! I miss mine. Here are some quotes from the Ice Queen’s Nana:
“Doesn’t that just frost your bananas!” Translation: That pisses me off.
“We’re off like a herd of turtles.” Translation: after many set backs, we’re finally on our way.
“Your eyes are like two pee holes in the snow.” Translation: You look tired.
“Nobody’s perfect. Everyone has a crack in their bum.”
“I could just eat him with a spoon.” Translation: He’s cute.

And from Ice Queen’s Mom: (The Ice Queen Mum, I suppose)
“Don’t shave your arms, you’ll look like a gorilla.” (when it grows back)
“Brush your teeth or people at school will call you Buffalo Breath.”

And the Ice Queen’s Dad:

Talkin’ ‘bout My Generation
In The News: Workforce Shortage Predicted
This can only be good for us Generation X & Y ers. Management, here we come! But what would a workforce run by us look like?

Here’s my company:
Staff Meetings: Two Drink Minimum and Free Nachos
Dress Code: No Cardigans. Look good.
Cool Titles.
Desk toys mandatory.
Happy Hour 3:30 – 4:30
Music (maybe headphones, don’t want squabbles)
Lounge with couches, jukebox, pool table
Gym in building with free towels and lockers
No speakerphones
Fresh flowers and plants
Assistant to run to Starbucks for me
Limo to shuttle me around
Manicures and pedicures during meetings (for me, at least)

Hmmm…still thinking. Any other ideas?

Tuesday, February 11, 2003

The Ice Queen Gets Political, briefly
I don’t usually talk about politics and stuff because people rarely agree with me and think I’m just being cold and heartless. I tend to prefer to cultivate my endearingly quirky and fun persona. But for those of you who want to know where the Ice Queen stands, here you go. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Things I don’t agree with:
War in Iraq
If the US filmed the trucks being loaded, why didn’t they follow the trucks and get the goods? Duh!
Talking about the War in Iraq
I mean, us mortals. Lots of effort and hot air being wasted. We don’t want it. It’s gonna happen. Let’s move on to something we can change.
Post-War Withdrawal
Hello? Did anybody remember to tidy up in Afghanistan? “Here’s your freedom and a case of Coke. Good luck with democracy. Gotta run.”
Big Public Funerals
Like the avalanche victims’ funeral in the Saddledome. Something really bugs me about that, but I can’t put my finger on it. I feel bad about all the other people who die in obscurity. And I feel it’s should be a private thing, not a publicity thing.
The Heart Strings Money Give
Over $6,000 has been given to “baby Mira” who was abandoned in a stairwell. She’ll be adopted – more than 120 people have already offered. What’s the use of giving money? Does she have some gambling debts?
I haven’t been able to give to a panhandler since I saw one in a wheelchair get up, change shifts with another and walk away. The bad ones always spoil it for everyone else.
Tuna, Salmon and Egg Salad
What’s with that?
Homophobes and Racists
I was on the subway once and someone yelled at someone else: “Why don’t you go back where you came from?” I turned around and said: “Are you from here? You don’t look aboriginal.” Sometimes I wish I was big and mean looking so I could say more stuff like that and get away with it.

There. Now let’s never speak of this again.

Jack Frost
Ottawa is –27 with a wind chill of –38 today.

Wonder how Jack Layton enjoyed his bike ride into work?

Monday, February 10, 2003

Souterrain Opens to Rave Reviews

So the restaurant was a huge success! Only bad part was when Frank’s office (Ottawa HQ) called to ask him details about someone being deported on Monday (so I guess it was important – to the person being deported anyway.) and my potatoes boiled away to oblivion while I put Colin to bed, but I’d forgotten to put them on the menu, so it all worked out.

It was such a success that the restaurant also operated on Saturday night – and will continue to operate on and off. A great way to suspend disbelief and maintain sanity without hiring a babysitter and paying a $30 mark up on a bottle of wine.

Hurrah for me! I am so smart! S-M-R-T! Look out Eigensinn Farm!

Coming Soon: The restaurant expands to a table for four and the opening of the Au-Dessus cocktail lounge

Friday, February 07, 2003

Chez Ice Queen

Here’s the menu:
provençal salad with field herbs and molten chevre

beef tenderloin with port shallot sauce
roasted balsamic carrots
green bean almondine

tarte du coeur chocolate

kempton clark petit syrah 1999

I also got a CD (Coltrane’s Ballads as sung by Karrin Alyson), and two tapes I found, cheap: best of Barry White and Best of Bob Marley. What can I say, I have eclectic tastes.

What’s playing in my head: Chief Wiggum singing Jammin’

Naughty or Ice?

So many good ideas! I think everyone should get a prize.
Best overall idea (despite logistical problems): Chip for “Fireplace” and “Spa”
Best executable idea: Boomer for “Sex” (not that this idea had never occurred to me)
Best attempt at bribing the judge: Stacey for offering her fireplace and sending me an e-card to cheer me up
Most eloquently written idea: Dear Friend Dave® whose suggestion must be read to be appreciated.

Here’s what I am going to do in reality:
I am making one of my best dishes (beef tenderloin with port shallot sauce). I’ll get Frank to put Colin to bed. Meanwhile I’ll set up an impromptu bistro in a space in my basement (finished, don’t worry.) I’ll have a little table for two and white mini lights and a candles. We’re got wireless speakers, so I can set those up downstairs. When Frank comes down, I’ll ask him if he has reservations, then escort him to “Souterrain”. If Colin were older, he could wait tables and be the sommelier. I’ll make menus and other little touches. Any other suggestions (besides Boomer’s, which has been duly noted) are welcome.

Prizes will be delivered personally (except Chip’s which will have to be mailed, if he tells me where he lives.) The Susan’s Desk Prize Basket will be reserved for another future contest.

Thanks for playing! (And Dave, the cooking part will hopefully inspire the book part).

I like Steve Burns.

Steve used to be the host of Blues Clues, but he’s a really cool guy in his own right. His website rocks. He’s now trying to get a deal for an album he made with The Flaming Lips. I downloaded a clip (Mighty Little Man) and I liked it! Then I thought, until Steve’s album come out, maybe I should get Flaming Lips. And I want the soundtrack to Hair.

So I go into the used CD store:
Clerk: “Can I help you?”
IQ: “Do you have Flaming Lips?”
Clerk: “Errr…, but I had a piercing there once that got infected”
IQ: “Ok, do you have Hair?”
Clerk, rubbing his bald pate: “Hey, now that’s just rude.”

Steve also has much to say on the subject of squirrels, but fails to say where they live.

Thursday, February 06, 2003

The Winter Blahs Contest So Far

Suggestions to date:
Boomer suggests skating
Pros: hats, hot chocolate
Cons: cold, exercise, protesting toddler
Chip suggests fire
Pros: No exercise. Romance potential. Tends to involve wine.
Cons: Involves money (installing working fireplace into the mantel) which is depressing,
Stace questions my coiffure
Buzz! Off topic! No soup for you!
(but yes, I’m growing my hair.)

I have a prize basket valued at over $110. Keep trying!

Boomer has just claimed that he doesn't want to win the prize because all I have in my desk is shoes. It's a dirty lie. I also have boots.
Boomer just came by to complain that I hadn't allowed for a comment on this. so here:

A Royal Existential Crisis—Again

Question of the Day:Where do squirrels live? I know some live in holes in trees but there seem to be lots of squirrels and not a lot of holey trees.

I’ve got the winter blahs. I looked this up on the ‘net and one suggestion was ice fishing. What’s up with that? “I’m depressed, so I think I’ll go sit in a cold hut and contemplate my insignificance.” Another suggestion was to seed plants for spring, which seemed like a good idea. Except for the fact that the cats would eat the sprouts and there’d be more barfing.

Daily Affirmation: My hair will grow. My diet will work. Being thrown up on is not an editorial comment on my likeability. Spring will come.

I need some cheer up ideas. That don’t involve food, money or booze. Or hats. Best suggestion wins a Prize Pack made up of wonderful things I find in my desk. And trust me, there are some pretty nifty things in my desk – honest!

Wednesday, February 05, 2003

It's good to be Queen
By the power vested in me by the Icicle Fiefdom, I hereby declare today "tw" day. (Those who have been reading comments will have seen Crabby's vulgar but hlarious comment using "tw" and my comment regarding Ottawa.)

Do you know how many wonderful words start with "tw"?

These words are so fun to say! Rejoice! Wear tweed! Be twitterpated! If you feel a twinge of guilt, say "twaddle!".

"Tw" day last until twilight today. Act now. Avoid the rush.

Oh, that John Adams

So, I was telling Boomer that I finally found a book that I’m enjoying. You won’t believe it.

It’s the biography of John Adams by David McCullough. You know, John Adams. Helped push through the Declaration of Independence. Was President of the US. It’s a pretty good book. I keep wondering if they’ll actually win the war and get to be a country. The suspense is killing me.

Interesting note: John Adams firmly recommended to Congress that the newly formed America not get involved in foreign wars or politics.

Ice Queen Exposes Herself
Couldn’t find my yearbook (still haven’t unpacked from the move in May). But, I have a special treat.

I have been looking for old poetry from my university days for the Boho Mojo, a night of fine wine and questionable poetry with my girlfriends. I ran across this poem, which my Dear Friend Dave® referenced last time we had lunch. I didn’t remember what poem he was talking about, until I found this this morning:

A Waking Dream
Black, soft, warm, wet
Soft, cream, melt in your mouth
Push the spoon
Into her side
Dim light:
Body dissolves
Lift the spoon
To your mouth
She becomes you

— June 24, 1988

Pretty bad stuff, but some glimmers of talent in there. Small well-camouflaged glimmers. For those of you who don’t know, I ended up getting a degree in writing the stuff.

Bad poetry. I share, because I care.

Sun Comes Up, it's Wednesday Morning

When I went out to catch the bus at 7 am this morning the sun was rising. First time in months.

C'mon, spring. You can do it!

Letters, We Get Letters
This morning, the Ice Queen answers her mail.
Stacey, the blog virgin, writes: “Do I have to have a blog to comment on your blog?”
The Ice Queen replies: “No, of course not! Just click on the underlined Comments after the message. Scroll down if necessary and there will be an “Add a comment” section. Put your name, or your nickname, your e-mail – if you want to—and your website or blog, if you have one. Then write your comment and click on the comment button on the bottom right ONCE. Then wait. It’ll take a minute. Then your comment will magically appear and you can close the comment screen. It ain’t the most sophisticated technology, but it’s FREE!”

Tuesday, February 04, 2003

Holy Loophole, Batman!

I just looked at my House Insurance renewal and it has added a Modification regarding the exclusion of terrorism. It has also added Modification regarding the exclusion of cyber-risks.

Why does this make me feel queasy?

Oh, and did you know that the light in our corporate bathroom is on motion sensor, so if you try to hide in there the light goes off? You have to wave your arms every couple of minutes.

Rock 'n' Roll High School It Wasn't, maybe easy listening or new country

So, my high school reunion’s coming up in May. Last time I went (1991) it was held in the Cow Palace. There was the typical roast beef and potatoes dinner you get in small towns at big gatherings. I saw maybe three people I knew. It was dull and depressing. What you have to understand is that my high school was so small, reunions are for all years of the whole school. So people who graduated in 1952 would be there. It’s pretty much the whole town.

Why do I feel compelled to go? I haven’t done anything amazing with my life (although owning a house in Toronto is pretty damn fine in my books).

For your amusement I will see if I can find my high school yearbook and quote some of the great things that were expected for me. Off the top of my head, I remember that my classmates said I was most likely to become an out of work actress teaching Algebra part time. I remember I had to take a math class, so I chose Algebra: “There are only 26 letters in the alphabet, how hard could it be?” I always had the right answer, but got marks deducted for not being able to prove how I’d done it. What, did they think I was psychic?

Dad taught Auto Shop at my high school. He was usually in more trouble than I was. I remember the time he and his class painted Mr. Villenueve’s car—several colours. And the Volkswagen they parked in the cafeteria. And I remember the year his students brought a Christmas tree in to decorate the shop.
“This isn’t off some teacher’s front lawn is it?” my dad asked.
“No sir, it’s not off anybody’s front lawn….”

I also remember going to the prom with the Swedish exchange student — Olaf. I remember he stepped on the back of my dress and ripped it when I picked him up in my Dodge Dart. And that’s about as exciting as the evening got.

Enough reminiscing for now. Wait here and I’ll got get my yearbook. If I only paid for Blog Supremo, you could even see a picture of the Ice Queen when she was but an icicle – but just as cold!

Deep Thoughts From the Ice Queen
Sometimes I look at a blog like blamb blog and I think, “Gee, maybe I should foster more intellectual thought. Maybe I should take on the hard issues.” So, for all you thinkers out there:
How come when you throw up there’s always corn in there? Even if you haven’t eaten corn for weeks, there’ll be corn.
Why are there ESL signs in English? If you knew English, you wouldn’t need the class, right?
Why are there no small coffees anymore? There’s medium, large and extra large. (Or Tall, Grande and Venti).
Why can’t people make their own Excel tables look pretty????!!! (Sorry, gotta go. The glamorous life of a Communications Manager calls.)

Monday, February 03, 2003

Great name, but the fun stops there
Frank and I went to go to our favourite pool and jazz place on Thursday, but it’s gone! (Don’t bother asking what it was called, ‘cause it’s gone. You can’t go there anyway.)

So we went to the Shag Lounge (Church and Maitland-ish).
1. Art.
2. Free wine. (see 1, guess it was a “show”)
3. Pool table
4. Music

1. Bad art
2. Bad wine (yes, there is such a thing.) I should’ve had a pint.
3. Bad coin-op pool table that would cough out fewer balls with each game you played. By game 3, we were using the purple ball as the black and the red ball as the white.
4. Bad house-y music.
5. Lots and lots of smoke!

All I want are comfy couches, flattering lighting, good wine, Keith's, good music (pref a CD jukebox so I can pick it myself or a band - blues, jazz), smokeless or well ventilated, and tables that don't eat your balls (get your mind out of the gutter). Do I ask too much? What do you look for in a lounge?

Chunks Ahoy
Spent the weekend half naked because after the kid threw up on me for the seventh time, I ran out of clothes. (And if you must picture that mentally, be kind.)

I’m at work this morning, but back home to take the kid to the vet this aft. Oops, I typed “vet” instead of doctor. So many sick little guys, so little time.

Leo, the Six Million Dollar Cat, went outside for the first time in a week last night and promptly got in a fight with his girlfriend, who’s been howling for him to come out. “You could have called, or sent a dead mouse or something, I’ve been worried sick about you!”

No posts until I can get my act together.

Douglas Adams was right about giant currency . Marie Curie " I have no dress except the one I wear every day. If you are going to...