Just give this a Paul. It may be the Paul of your life
Since it’s too snowy to go for a walk at lunch, I decided to learn Japanese. Here’s what I found on the web about learning Japanese.


I don’t plan to speak it, I’ll just learn the characters and do them in beautiful calligraphy on rice paper. Then I will frame them and give them to friends. Of course, they will probably be Jack Handy or Simpsons quotations, but they’ll look classy.

"My skilled hands are busy!" That shouldn't be difficult to learn.

Not Just White Trash, But Every Colour of the Rainbow!
Went to Gerrard Square Mall. Home of the Mullet, acid wash jeans and a strange accent. It’s ‘Shwa in the City! City TV should be picking up the rights for the series any day now.

Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome
Um…don’t severe and acute mean pretty much the same thing? I guess they needed a vowel to make a good acronym.

Ice Prince Promoted
Ice Prince has been promoted from the toddler room to the preschool room. I suspect it was self-defence. He is about 15 lbs heavier and 5 inches taller than all of the other toddlers. It’s like Andre the Giant playing with the Munchkins from Wizard of Oz. When asked to comment on the move, Ice Prince said “Not a baby, a big kid!”

Do your part!

Check Out This Headline

Is this at all similar to “Walk for Diabetes” or “Run for the Cure” or “Honk for Peace”?

I’ve Still Got It (Not Sure I Want It)
I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe a woman tried to pick me in the elevator at my Dentist’s yesterday.

I can’t explain exactly why I think this. It’s a gut instinct. She kept gushing about my coat ($10 vinyl leatherette from Le Chateau) and trying to make conversation. I finally had to pull out my cell phone to give her the hint. She seemed perfectly normal – not a psycho hosebag or anything. I guess I’m just irresistible.

Movies to rent:
Novacaine
Little Shop of Horrors

I Wouldn’t Complain If Only Celine Dion Were On The List

Here’s a list of tracks CHUM-AM has pulled from its playlist due to the war in Iraq:

Soldier Boy – The Shirelles

Shotgun – Jr. Walker and the All-Stars

Eve of Destruction – Barry McGuire

The Universal Soldier – Donovan

Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) – Cher

Abraham, Martin and John – Dion

Revolution – The Beatles

Street Fighting Man – The Rolling Stones

In the Year 2525 (Exordium & Terminus) – Zager And Evans

Give Peace A Chance - John Lennon And The Plastic Ono Band

One Tin Soldier – The Original Caste

When I Die – Blood, Sweat and Tears

The Cruel War – Sugar and Spice

War – Edwin Starr

Live and Let Die – Paul McCartney/Wings

The Night Chicago Died – Paper Lace

Billy, Don’t Be A Hero - Bo Donaldson & The Heywoods

Fighting On The Side Of Love – The T.H.P. Orchestra

The Dream Never Dies – The Cooper Brothers

What about "Love is a Battlefield?" What about "Shooting down the walls of heartache, BANG! BANG! I am the Warrior."

Earl Grey tea, hot, anyone?
I just heard our Office Manager phoning to get our replicator fixed.

If I’d known we had a replicator, maybe I wouldn’t have Nr. Noodles for lunch. Or maybe I’d just have more – in lots of exotic flavours. Like Prosciutto or Lobster with snow peas. Mmmmmmmm……

Bonus Link: Note, saccharine alert.

Operation Grab Your Ankles and Prepare for Our Victor.

Victor is my brand new Oral/Maxillofacial Surgeon. He will have the honour of taking out a minimum of one and a maximum of four of my wisdom teeth.

One is, indeed, coming in. “Ooooo…..and it’s messy,” says my dentist, the good Dr. Feldman who asked if I felt a sudden surge of wisdom (cue cymbal smash here.) I am supposed to rinse with hydrogen peroxide and water until the surgery. And I can go blonde and whiten my teeth at the same time!

I have my x-rays and I had to open them and look at them. They are so cool! If you’re in the neighbourhood of my cubicle, come see!

As for the surgery: “The healing process is usually more of an ordeal for "older" people than "younger" persons. Studies have shown that complications related to the extraction of wisdom teeth increase significantly as patients passes into their mid to late 20's.”

Grrrr…….I’m going to go feel sorry for myself now. In lieu of flowers…well, actually flowers are good. I like flowers.

On the Links
Lazy and feeling bleagh (going to The Dentist at 11), so here are some links to keep you busy. Go. Have fun.

Get Fuzzy: Bucky Rules
Hamster Tours: Good Clean Fun
Disgruntled Housewife: Great Clip Art Too!
Ultralounge: Come For The Leopard Skin, Stay For the Music
Raising Hell: For all Your Birth Control Needs
Bad Girls: Get Your Alias. I'm "Zapateados Beaujolais"
Too Much Wolfie? Never Be For A Loss of Words Again!

The Paperless Office and the Personless War
From CNN: “Members of the group have caused problems for coalition forces in some areas, where they have disguised themselves as civilians to ambush troops or pretended to surrender and opened fire -- acts the United States have called "serious violations of the laws of war."”

Errr…the laws of war? You mean where you line up in rows and then squat down to reload your musket, allowing the row behind you a turn? Remember from history how peeved the British were when Canadians were fighting like natives (i.e. hiding instead of lining up properly)? I figure war is about outsmarting the other guy. I think the Americans are just sore that they got fooled.

Besides, by now, why are there human fighting wars? Shouldn’t droids be fighting them?

Omigod, he is sooooooooo cute!
Link of the Day If you can, have the volume on for this. The voices make it. Really, it's very sweet. And safe for work!

Ah, it brings back so many memories. I had a diary in Grade 8 & 9. I was so worried that someone would find it and embarrass me that I wrapped it in several layers of plastic bags before I hid it under some food garbage headed for the dump. Then, to make sure no one could ever read it if they did find it, I threw the key out about 50 miles away at the Brigden Fair. I remember looking around to make sure no one saw me do it.

What the hell was I thinking? Would anyone care about my crushes? Well, I did have one or two a week. That seems kind of unnatural now….

Oh, embarrassing story: One guy I had a crush on told me he’d drop me if I didn’t stop doing something (I can’t remember what.) My warped Grade 8 logic thought : “Well, he can’t drop me if we’re not going out together, so I guess we are!” I was sorely unfamiliar with 13 year old boy slang.

Out of the Mouths of Tech Support
Just found this in an e-mail on our office printer:
“We’ve done the best we can. To reimage the computer a third time would only serve to incontinence the customer.”

Oh, Susahanna!
In other news, I am now a character in The War Party Diaries. V. thrilled to be acknowledged and can’t wait for my sandals. Although the only real accident lately was when Ice Prince fell off the couch into a giant basket of Lego. Speaking of which, we’ve been doing some Lego prototypes. Why can’t cars be four or five stories high? They’d carry more people, but take up the same amount of space. Of course, in our lab tests, the cars just keeled over, that that’s due to:
1. They were made out of Lego
2. A 300 story toddler kept whacking them onto the ground and yelling “Car fall down!”

True Story
Just remembered one time when I was a kid and Nana took me to the mall. I insisted on going into Grand & Toy. I ran up and down the aisles and finally emerged in tears. ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Nana. “There aren’t any toys!” I sobbed.

Another One
One time, Nana took me to San Diego. An old friend of hers lived there. We finally met up with the guy, who exclaimed on seeing Nana: "You look like a million bucks." "Yeah," I piped up, "all green and wrinkly!"

Just wondering
Why do people at the gym look so unhappy? And why are they fat? Does going to the gym not work? And why don't the hair dryers work? And why aren't the fitness classes anything fun like "Twister with the Monkees" or "Sweatin' to Green Day"? And why does it always feel like I have my pantyhose on backwards? They look the same, but whichever way you put them on is wrong. Would it kill them to show which is the front and back?

Teething
I think I’ve got a wisdom tooth making a run for the border. My jaw is in pain and I have a great desire to chew on something.

Yes, I have all my wisdom teeth (none have come in yet…until now), my appendix, my tonsils.

Maybe they could knock me out, take all the parts I don’t need, tie my tubes, perform liposuction and send me on my merry way.

Now let’s see….we could call it: Operation Expect No Mercy From Our Badger. Sorry, I’m addicted to that generator.

Ow. Grouchy, grouchy, grouchy. What can I chew on?

It’s the Icies!
Biggest Disappointment of the Weekend: The French Connection, staring Gene Hackman and Roy from Jaws. Watched this instead of the Oscars. Supposedly, it won three Oscars in 1971. It was okay. Pleasant car chase, some icky shooting people in the face. Nothing special. Young Gene Hackman looked like a young Bill Murray, which was kind of distracting. But he had an adorable hat on
The Lifetime Achievement Award My diet. Yep, no alcohol and just diet bars. The first few days are the hardest. Then I descend into self-righteousness and martyrdom, after which it’s easy, but I’m no fun. Today is day two.
Least Appropriate What’s Playing in My Head: “Fah who for-aze! Dah who dor-aze! Welcome Christmas, Christmas Day.”
Best new recipe: Orzo with Dijon Olive Butter.
Worst new Recipe: Flourless Chocolate Torte. “Just fold in the eggs, don’t over mix, or it will deflate.” Resulted in raw brownie batter with scrambled eggs throughout. Even Fresh wouldn’t eat it.
Grossest Morning Sighting: Specimen bottle on Church Street. With what looked like Fruit Punch in it. Would you like a Hawaiian Punch? Pow!
Link of the Day: Most of you will probably find this via Davezilla, but you gotta check out THIS LINK. I throughly enjoyed “Operation Furious Meerkat”, “Operation You May Want to Stand Back From Our Wolverine” and “Operation Sexually Ambiguous Squirrel” . I think all future Girls Nights and Lounge Tours should be named using this device.
Late New Year’s Resolution: Less blogging more work.

Spice Girl OR She'll Be Cumin 'Round the Mountain
Went to store at lunch time. Bought cumin as ingredient for dinner for Sister Staceypatrick and Father Patrick O’Stacey tomorrow.

I didn’t make it halfway back to the office before I had to throw it out. The fumes were giving me Post Traumatic Hangover syndrome. Egg Nog does the same thing now. Sister S was an accomplice in both these and more so she knows of whence I speak.

Hey, here’s a diet: Make sure you get terribly drunk eating your most favourite fattening foods. You’ll never want to eat them again. Or work there. Laura Secord chocloates--ick!

Ugh, I can still smell the cumin on my hands. Out, out damn spice!

Swing Your Partner Round and Round, Keep Those Missiles On The Ground

So my mom was talking about Shock and Awe. I think that phrase is so weird. What if a Chautauqua showed up in Iraq instead? A whole mess of wholesome guitar playing, tap dancing country folk to bring their hope for peace and a good crop.

What’s Playing in My Head: “It’s time for Cocoa Krispies, they are so chocolate-y, that when I get a taste of them I trumpet happily. Phhhtpt!”

What If They Threw A War and I Had Nothing To Wear?

You know I hate being serious and this darn war thing is not helping. Last night on the way home a helicopter just hovered over Fresh's office. I later found out it was because protestors were holding a dead-in at Yonge and Bloor. I remember being that idealistic...the last time they had a war in the Gulf.

Where were you when the last war broke out? I remember I was in the drug store buying birth control pills. Don't know why I remember that. I also remember they had to close the university library due to bomb threats, so we couldn't do any work for a few days.

Just when I was feeling down and losing my wry point of view, along comes The War Party Diaries. You go, girl! The style seems pleasantly familiar. Can you guess who wrote it? (HINT: Not royalty.) Go now. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.

I am also happy to see the blamblog show a bit of my own world weary attitude towards the young protestors. He will probably deny this vehemently.

Bloody, bloody, bloody. I wasn't going to talk about war. Oh, well. Hard not to I guess. However, the last two nights I sat down to watch the news of the war, I fell asleep. Nothing like a Sesame Street comforter to block out all the badness. I think it has a magic soporific in it.

Wear a Wang for Peace!

I don’t watch ‘em personally*, but what’s with postponing or toning down the Oscars? Do people really think Nicole Kidman wearing Vera Wang vs wearing a wrap dress from the Gap will really make a difference? Who cares? Go nuts. Give people some mindless fluff to fill their brains instead of watching the war on TV. Do you really think the troops will be insulted? Pul-lease! They’re a little busy picking sand out of their Underoos.

These are the same people who get mad if you laugh at a funeral. (Can’t understand what I mean? Well, you soon will.)
Laughter is a good way to deal with stress. I remember when my dying Nana was waiting for a blood transfusion, we joked with her that they had to go find a wino with her blood type, and would she prefer a Chardonnay or a Riesling?

I do have a heart, it’s just wrapped in a Whoopee Cushion.

*Although I may watch the beginning to see if Walken wins.

Only in Canada, Eh?
Funky Fresh was home late for supper last night because there were protesters outside his office (Fresh work for the Foreign Affairs Minister. ‘Nuff said.)They had these large paper mâché tombstones on sticks – they had just come from Queen’s Park where they had planted them on the lawn. They wanted to give the tombstones to Bill. So Fresh went and got a pair of scissors and helped them get the tombstones off the sticks. Then he got a bag to put them in and took them upstairs. Then he talked to the protestors for a while. He said they were very nice and polite.

How very Canadian! And how very like my husband. I would have tried to sneak away unnoticed. But then again, I am the Ice Queen.

Let There Be Links!
I finally succeeded in adding some blog links. I plan to change the descriptions under them sometimes, so read, click and enjoy!

Over there, in the right hand column. Shoo!

Frivolity in the Face of Sand
In typical Ice Queen fashion, I am going to make light of a serious subject as a way of avoiding talking about things that scare me and make me queasy.

So, today’s topic is: designing your bomb shelter. What does the perfect bomb shelter need?
For this exercise you may choose:
One Book
Three CDs
One Movie on video
One Luxury Item
One Outfit
One Kind of Food
One non-alcoholic beverage
One type/brand of alcohol
One photograph

Luck of the Scottish

The first thing I ever won was a radio. I had to come up with a safety slogan, and mine was “I’d rather be a chicken than a dead duck.” I think it was about jaywalking or wearing your seatbelt. I was 6.

At the age of 7, I had to write why my dad was the greatest. I wrote: “My Dad is the greatest, because he married my mom so I could be me. To love him.” The “o” in love, was a little heart (ugh). I got my picture in the Toronto Sun hugging my dad. I don’t remember there being any other prize…the cheap bastards!

I also remember winning a bottle of scotch whiskey at the Scottish pavilion of Caravan around the same time. My family was busy yakking when they heard my voice on the microphone and looked up to see me on stage thanking someone for a bottle of scotch.

Other things I’ve own:
Cocktail party at City Grill in Eaton Centre (just food, no cocktails....cheap bastards!)
Gift Basket
Fleecy Vest
Free Manicure

Now that I think about it, I’m really a very lucky person. I think I’ll start entering more contests.

Ice Prince’s Rule of the Day®: “No drawy dinosaur on the side of the micowabe.” (after he had created a lovely brontosaurus with green marker whilst I filled the dishwasher).

I won a contest!

No, really! The “Scott Paper Towels: Real Wine Stories Contest”. I saw it in Food and Drink magazine. You had to tell a messy wine story.

I told about the time on my 30th birthday when a can-can line broke out during ABBA’s Waterloo and a full glass of red wine was kicked over onto the white carpet and the guests proceeded to clean it up with the blue paper napkins, which promptly created a lovely marbled effect.

I won a weekend getaway to Niagara on the Lake, 2 nights accommodation in an inn, dinner, $400 in spa services, a winery tour and tickets for 2 to the Shaw festival!

And yes, I’m taking Funky Fresh Frank (who DJ’d that night), so although I am grateful to the other guests who helped create the legend, you’ll just have to hear about it. Maybe I’ll bring you back some Ice wine.

I’m so thrilled! Now I have to go check what’s on at the Shaw. Hope there’s some Chekhov, but it’s probably Shaw.

Fun Fact: The monologue that got me into York U’s theatre program was from Major Barbara, by George Bernard Shaw.

Fit To Be Tied

So my excitement over being rated by talkingdog.com (nice guy, check it out!) has been overshadowed by possibly getting my tubes tied for real.
PROS:
No more pills
Time off work
Sympathy
No more kids (I dearly love Ice Prince, but he’s enough kid for two lifetimes)

CONS:
Does it cost anything? Or is it covered by OHIP?
Any side effects? Will I grow a moustache?

Pain doesn’t bother me. And I laugh in the face of danger. Buwahahahahahahah! But no, it won’t be live on web cam.

What’s Playing in My Head: It’s a Beautiful Day, of course.

Hubris
So, I wore my spring coat and real shoes today – and promptly slipped on a lonely patch of ice and fell. I’ve now got a giant bruise and scratches on my right leg and it hurts like stink. I don’t know how much stink hurts, but it’s probably less than my leg.

Big excitement!
I’m a Finnish Lapphund!

“The Finnish Lapphund is intelligent, willing, affectionate, and adaptable. They have natural herding instincts and a tendency to bark which can be diminished with training. They make excellent watchdogs that will bark at strangers, but lack any tendency toward aggression. Finnish Lapphunds live very easily with children and other dogs.”

Wow, it’s like looking in a mirror.

Say No More.
Took the Ice Prince to Sears for a photo on Saturday. Booked appointment to have my tubes tied Sunday.

Attack of the B-Movie Titles
I was searching for B-movie titles (I'm making up a very boring invite for a process review meeting, so I'm making the invite look like a B-Movie poster) and I found these. These are REAL titles.

"Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-up Zombies"

"Avenging Disco Godfather"

"Attack of the Killer Refridgerator"

"Assault of the Killer Bimbos"

"Auntie Lee's Meat Pies"

"Barn of the Naked Dead"

Killer Klowns from Outer Space

"Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death"

"Cars that Eat People"

"Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things"

"Chopper Chicks in Zombie Town"

"It's Dead - let's touch it!"

"Chopping Mall"

"Gas-s-s-s"

"I Dismember Mama"

"I Eat your Skin"

"Geek Maggot Bingo"

"I was a Zombie for the F.B.I."

"Lobster Man from Mars"

"The Rats are coming! There Werewolves are here!"

"Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-a-rama"

Give It The Ol’ Cottage Try

So yesterday I told Boomer that I rented a cottage for a week in June. He said that I didn’t seem “The cottage type.” I thought this was kind of odd, but then I remembered the last time I mentioned renting a cottage, Crabby said “You are the only person I know who builds a cottage wardrobe.” (Um, doesn’t everyone?)

So, do you really think I don’t have the Right Stuff for a cottage? Colin and I once went camping in a tent trailer with my parents and my “brother” for a week in Quebec. Colin was only six months old. He had his diaper changed everywhere. And we used to buy giant coffees at Tim Horton’s to warm his bottles in. Which may explain why he’s so hyper. But I digress.

This conversation was the same conversation in which Boomer said someone in TV with puke in her hair reminded him of me.

Sometimes I worry about the image I’m projecting.

English, or something close to it

So, I haven't spoken much about the Ice Prince lately. We’ve been working on some House Rules.

My Rules
No colouring on the walls.
No colouring on the table.
No smacking the cat.
No throwing kitty litter.
No throwing crayons.
No putting tortellini in your milk.

Colin has spontaneously added some, which are very sound and show good judgement.

Colin’s Rules
“No bite Mommy.”
“No eat Mommy’s hair.”
“No sitty the floor of the bus.”
“No coloury the window.”
“No poury the milk on the head.”
“No putty the xylobone on the stove.”

What a well behaved child. Unfortunately, he usually makes these announcements AFTER he has made the transgression.

Be Thirsty….Be Very Thirsty…….
The Icicle Fief has now moved to Orange Alert on its Official Patio Watch®.

Any weather remotely resembling Patio Weather will be immediately and decisively acted upon.

All troops in the Bloor/Church area are advised to be ready for action at any time.

Besides Duct Tape, it is highly recommended that you join a vague but important sounding committee outside your own department. That way, when Patio Weather hits, you can say “Gotta run. It’s my weekly Intranet Redesign Javascript Active-X Control Coding Committee Meeting.” Make sure it sounds technical enough to scare your boss away from wanting to attend as well.

Be all that you can be....

The Next Big Thing
Today’s Pet Peeve is: People who use umbrellas in the snow. And, now that I think about it, in the sun too.
Now, I understand that people may want to keep the sun off their skin to avoid a burn – so what I propose is manufacturing a line of parasols. You heard me – parasols. Trust me, these are going to be the next big thing, and you don’t want to miss the boat. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll open up a parasol stand down on Queen West. Handpainted with crazy stuff would be especially cool.

Remember, you heard it here first.

And as a bonus, your moment of culture:

morning on church: a haiku
crusty glove beckons
dayglo briefs bloom in the snow
broom faints cold away
-- Ice Queen, March, 2003

Rhythm and Soul

Today I am obsessed with the very cool fact that the human body loses 21 grams immediately upon dying leading some to believe that it represents the weight of the soul. (How do I know this? Movie coming out called 21 Grams is apparently NOT about drugs.)

Why would your soul have weight? What substance would it be made of to give it weight? That’s about 1/3 of an Oh Henry Bar. Actually, I kind of like the idea of my soul being made of chocolate, peanuts and caramel. But it’s more likely a coffee and wine stained bagel wrapped in a black stocking with a run in it.

What’s your soul made of?

What’s Playing in My Head: It’s all About Soul by Billy Joel off the River of Dreams album

The rumours of my face lift are greatly exagerated.

"Looking lived in is all the rage in California. Do you know what it cost me to have my face dropped?" -- Arthur Dent

Thursday was the best sick day at home. I watched:
Retro Request on Much More Music
The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
Pop Up Video
Muriel's Wedding (which I give three twizzlers to. It had a good beat and was easy to dance to.)

Upon my return, I was pleased to see a map of my fiefdom appears on the blamblog. I'm still laughing over "Chipghanistan".

Aha! Kept my last post. Must mean a prob with the comments code.

Later.....after a nap, I'll get to the bottom of thissssssssssssssssss.....................

Home sick today

I think moms should have a special neutral place to go when they're sick. I just sit here looking at laundry and dishes and trying not to feel like I should do them.

"Bed is pulling me.....gravity......Daysleeper...."

The Apocalypse is at Hand

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are upon me:
Bourgeoisie: Appointment at Sears Photo Studio
Pants: Bought some. Am wearing them.
Natural Hair: Or close to it.
Ennui: Sigh. Whatever.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light!

And hey, did you know that when you spell check apocalypse, there’s a plural? Wouldn’t there only be one?

A true Canadian moment from Crabby:
Alex Colville has won a Governor General's Award for Visual Arts. When asked
what he would do with the prize money, he hesitated and said, "Oh well, maybe
buy a new Chevy, or more likely, pay it all in taxes."

...and a Cool site of the Day
Find your animal totem from Davezilla.com.

Freezin’ Me Sporran Off!

I am tired of boots and mitts and coats. And I want to wear my cuter spring hats. And I decided: it’s all my ancestors fault.

Why did they move from Scotland to Canada? Why didn’t they move somewhere temperate like Greece? I imagine Scotland to be cold, but according to the Weather Network it’s a lovely 11 there today. What were they thinking?

Well, why don’t I just move someplace warm? What do I like about Canada?

I like the socialized health care. I like public transportation. I like the fact that our helicopters are useless. What other countries are like that? Mainly Scandinavian ones. Which are cold. (a balmy -2 in Sweden today).

May as well just say here. It could be worse. We could live in Ottawa.

Maybe Souterrain needs to open up a pool side patio lounge…….