Go Betty

Me and My Nipples Reported for Duty


You know what motherfuckers? I fucking love being single. I am ashamed at how good it feels to wake up in the morning and know that it's just my damn self and all I have to do is take care of me. I am not a person who has a tremendous amount of guilt in life, but damn do I feel guilty at how good it is.


But there it is. That's me. Already moved on, rebounded with the underemployed artist and am now nursing a broken heart. It's getting boring already.


I finally saw The Rocky Horror Show. Me, Sara, JR and their friends at the midnight show. Dressed up. Drunk (natch). It happily coincided with some sort of opera-crowd coming out of Hummingbird Centre. There were some VERY confused seniors on Front Street.

Backing up a bit... I was going to wear fishnets, tap pants, heels, and a white men's shirt... and then JR sent some pics as inspiration and I knew I already had all the makings of a fairly good Janet.





Lacy white demi bra, white half slip, white mary janes. All day Friday I was in knots thinking, can I actually go out (un)dressed like this? Turns out with enough alcohol in you, you can. Me and my nipples reported for duty.

I was asked to pose for pictures with out-of-towners. More than once.

And then there was the show... the Brad actor guy, in his first number ("There's a Light") shone his spotlight on me, much to the delight of everyone sitting around me, screaming and pointing at my boobs. Excuse me, my humps, my humps, my lovely lady bumps. Ah the joys of sitting in your underwear in the 3rd fucking row of the Bluma Appel theatre. And how yummy was the guy who played Frank? 6' 2" and a body like a rugby player? Or was it the drag that appealed? Who in the hell knows. I'm so confused.




Switch gears to Saturday night when we went to a very swanky engagement party (the kind in a neighbourhood you can never afford where the hosts have hired a bartender and the whole thing is catered). I bought this great dress at H&M a while back but the goddamned front of it opens to the ribs... what is with that? You either have to pull off a great bra or cami and know that it shows a great deal. So again it was tits ahoy. And 3-inch Christian Louboutins... You cannot go wrong. So drunk I left my key in the door and spilled my purse contents all over my friend's car. Drunken loser.

What's New in the World

More Alec. Today on Socialite Life they make some funny, funny points. Too many references here to comprehend. This, about my boyfriend, his ex-wife, their kid, that taped message, and the hot, hot mess it’s all created…

"Kim might as well just go for a run around the field, and tear her shirt off exposing her wonder bra and then go dump a cooler of Gatorade on the coach. Bitch just did all those things in her custody battle that require some sort of great sports victory analogy that I am unable to give because the only reason to watch football is possibly spotting Matt Light of the New England Patriots bending over. Or a really campy artist in the halftime show, like when Diana Ross flew around in that helicopter. Anyway, kudos Kim. Getting that tape released was about the best thing you could have done besides taking pics of the iron-shaped burns Alec left on her causing her to be adopted by Wilona upstairs. You know, Florida Evans' best girlfriend?"

“…then go dump a cooler of Gatorade on the coach.” !!!

I mean, I HATE how batshit crazy Kim Basinger is. I know, in my heart, that she makes Alec that mad. And I know my b-f has a temper. But she won the shoot out in overtime by releasing that tape. It just proves that Alec is… contemptible. Still a fan though. Still loves me the schweaty balls, 30 Rock and so forth and such.







And that shhhhhh sound in my basement? And that little pool of water near my roses? Is a leaky pipe underground that predates the Titanic. Oh yes, and the big dig in my front yard starts tomorrow, and won't be finished until $1500 had been paid to Neil of Drain Force!

And I went to see Radiant City and then downloaded Tralala - Boys and Girls Are All Fired Up.

And that song My Humps that I've never even really heard before (except as a ring tone from an annoying person in my office), and that weird song Don't You Wish Your Girlfriend Was a Freak Like Me? (hot like me, took it up the ass like me)? Me and Dawson danced til 2 am on Saturday night to those and other awful, horrendous songs.

And Landau? It's back. But this time parked in front of Akemi's house. Heh heh heh.

And my Burning Man ticket came!

It's Off

I will never love Alec Baldwin again... He speaks to his kid this way! I couldn't cope with this as an adult, let alone as a child. I don't care how much aggro she is... um, not picking up the phone is not such a crime. If my dad spoke to me this way you're damn straight I wouldn't be picking up.

Reprise, 38 Years Old

Look at me, there has to be something more than what they see
Wholesome and pure, oh so scared and unsure
A poor man's Sandra Dee
Sandy, you must start anew
Don't you know what you must do
Hold your head high, take a deep breath and sigh
Goodbye to Sandra Dee

In The Chinese Ghetto

Big Boy's truck is filled with scrap so he and another man came and asked me for my jumper cables again to get the pickup started to go sell the scrap I assume. I old them to keep the cables because this is like the 5th time they've borrowed them. It's weird to see Big Boy with his shirt on. He sleeps shirtless in the truck on hot summer nights. Leslie says that creeps her out but I don't care a wit. I feel safer with him there guarding the street in his sleep.

Lying on the ground beside their rooming house is an old mattress set that's exactly like my parents', which I junked when I sold their house in 1999. Those mattresses were at least 30 years old then: two twin sets pushed together and attached at the headboard, from The Art Shoppe. Very classy at the time.

Across the street two ladies were systematically bringing garbage and old furniture out of their house. There were lots of old computer manuals (COBOL!) and really awful furniture, including another mattress set, but this one was scorched and has a big burn hole in the middle, like a foot across. I wonder what happened?

Alfy continues to feed the stray cats around. We have a pretty large feral cat population on Cummings, considering how small the street actually is. Someone ran over one of the cats last week and Ken cleaned it up.

I saw one of Audrey's health care workers coming out of her place yesterday. Audrey has Alzheimer's and health care around the clock. The woman was wearing medical scrubs. We talked about Audrey for 15 minutes. She's eating well but can't remember who's who. On good weather days Audrey comes outside and chats to me while I garden. She always asks me about my little dog and laments that her daughter made her cut her hair. She had very long hair (mid-back) and it's not even completely grey, although Audrey is pretty old. Her daughter once told me that she herself was bi-polar. She talked to me in a really loud voice. I like the other daughter better, the one from Scarborough. The non-bi-polar.

One day I was walking over to get hot and sour soup on Broadview and at the corner of Degrassi and Cummings there was an impromtu street party / soccer game going on with all the tween kids. They were having the best time. When I came back they were all gone.

If I come home in the middle of the day I can see the local day care ladies bring the kids and babies to the park. Everybody likes the swings the best.

There's another sheltie on the corner but it never seems to get walked. They leave it outside in the yard all day. It sleeps all the time.

The retired teacher lady on the Wardell corner hasn't been seen in ages.

One of my neighbours told me that he and has wife have been in therapy for years and that she has a mood disorder. My other neighbour separated from her husband at the same time as me and I haven't seen the guy since, but last night when I got home there was a truck parked in front of the house. Then about 15 minutes later it was gone. My neighbour is in Jamaica at the moment and I have no idea how to get in touch with her. I wonder if her ex was in the house taking stuff? I thought he already took all his stuff. I hope that everything is ok. We've become a lot closer since we discovered we are living parallel lives.

All I Can Say Is Thank Fucking God

From today's Star:
Leo (July 23 - Aug. 22)
You have struggled long and hard to make sense of a confusing situation. But, in doing so, you have overlooked what's right in front of you. Great inspiration will ensue as you wake up to what this is. A solution is close at hand.

Don't You Ma'am Me

I fucking hate that here (in the states it's ok, everyone in every store says it). I'M HUNGOVER, I'M NOT OLD, you 20-something Starbucks' barista-chick who sings.

This morning I was still in bed at 8am. The dog and I regarded one another like... we are two bad bitches with bad breath. We are both shaggy. We both have to pee. We are sooooo hot! I particularly like when she she looks at me with one eye open. It's like, I'm into sleep if you are. Should I even BOTHER opening the other eye, lady?

We (me + friends, not me + the dog) saw Run With The Kittens last night... So fun. Not so many ladies at the show. Note to the ladies: to meet men, go see a show at The Dakota Tavern, Ossington and Dundas.

Come Back to SCS / Run Far, Far Away From SCS

I keep getting fancy emails and mailouts about some alumni thing at St. Clement's School, urging me to "come back". They've had some major renos lately. And nowadays everyone's a "Clementine". Back then we were "Pilgrims". Oy vey.

I can't think of one reason why I would return except to be totally nosey. I'd like to see who's fat (me), who's divorced (er... me), who turned out to be a lesbian (hey now...). Yeah, ok, I'd be everyone else's schadenfreude moment.

It was so damn awful when I was there. And our parents paid thousands for it! Of course, I do take responsibility for my largely bad behaviour, inability to concentrate, and aversion to homework, but the teachers were not really the picks of the litter either! Our principal was a small-minded bitch with a mean streak a mile wide. And I'll take on anyone who wants to defend St. Clement's from 1977 - 1982. In a cage match. To the death. Of course there were some fine teachers at that time. Just that most were crap.

I'm convinced that due to this dark era they lost a generation of donors, parents and alumni.

All This and Basic Cable!

I'm having trouble understanding why I have a full-sized fridge. I like the idea of a small fridge like they have on all those English home-improvement shows. Actually, I've come to the conclusion that my kitchen in general has far too big a footprint for what I use it for. Basically the dog uses the kitchen more than me. Too many cupboards. Too much counter space.

When Nick was packing I tilted up the tilt-top dining room table and pushed it against a wall. And it remains there. I like it pushed aside.

And I have no coffee table. Just a small stool where I sit my beer or feet.

One bedroom remains eerily empty. The dog likes to sleep in there sometimes. I admit, I did immediately put winter coats and boots into the closet. And all the towels and sheets are in there now. And the AC unit, which I may never use again! And a humidifier. Perhaps I should rent this room to students.

I have no surfaces for knick knacks. I'm not a fan of the knick knackery, but what are you gonna do when your parents' house is FULL of the ancient knick knacks of much value and sentiment? You take some on. One of a kind tea cups and hand-painted vases and so forth.

And the sleeping arrangements. First, I get into bed. And then the cat comes purposefully up onto the bed and immediately wants to be bum-to-bum, or else bonnetted onto my head (he wants to be one with my face!), or else unbearably wrapped around my knees. This is his deepest desire. And then the dog comes along sulkily because she was asleep in the empty room, and nothing was happening, and she wanted to be where something was happening, and we had to the gall to go to bed without her! And so she jumps up and sniffs around, like, hey, are you guys asleep? Does anyone wanna play? No? Ok, I'll sleep too. And then I eventually hear the groans and soft yips of the dog having a dream that no doubt has something to do with running and chasing. And the cat is a big ball of fur who snores as loudly as a human being. And then around 1:30am the cat has found himself positioned not to his liking. Not at all! And so he gets up and stomps around and yowls. And this disturbs the dog, and she sees fit to jump on and off the bed in disgust for about 30 minutes or so. And we all awake, and shift and maybe get up for a pee, read for a few minutes, voice some complaints, or just lie quietly and wait until it's over. I call this "The 2am Follies".

No Sign of 80's Barf

After a long, long, long absence, I am back, yes, I am back. Emancipated. Single. **sigh**. And the first rebound relationship is over and under my belt. Notched. FUCK! If you know me you know what happened and how crazy THAT was. No doubt about it, I am pissed, saddened and a little dejected. Tears were shed.

I MADE myself go out to two parties on Saturday night. Whilst on the streetcar I cooked up a plan for an art project to sort of commemorate what happened. I'm glad to say that I worked on that project most of Sunday and it's completed. I think it's appropriate and a lovely little testament to what happened. I even did a soundtrack for it. The piece is called File Under "H". Viewings available at my house.

Last week was sheer madness. The final packing of the stuff. The clouds of dust raised. The nastiness you find behind pieces of furniture when you move them.

On Wednesday I spent hours at my lawyer's, my other lawyer's (AKA "mean dad") and then my banker's offices. My divorce papers were filed (supposedly). You know it costs almost $500 in court fees just to file the papers? Plus all the other fees it will end up costing about +$2000 in total.

Nick officially moved on Thursday. That was a whole other thing. A huge day. Symbolic. Happy. Sad. The movers were the same gang of surly brothers and cousins we have been using for the last 12+ years. Nick has in his living room the rug that Watson barfed on in the late 80's. There is no sign of 80's barf now. I have had the rug cleaned several times through Turco-Persian. The rug is 15' x 10' and valued at about $10,000. It is so big I will likely never own a house that can take this rug. So the rug now resides with Nick at his glass and chrome man-pad, and that makes me happy.