Friday, March 28, 2008
Proust Questionnaire
The other day Sarah asked me if I could see any band in the world, dead, alive, together or broken up, who would I see? I really needed time to answer that. I think I still need time. I think if I was about 7 years old I would like to see The Beach Boys. If I was 12 I'd like to see The Who. Every concert I go to is immediately my favourite one. Every band and musician that I like is my favourite. It's like trying to pick my favourite colour: absolutely impossible. Um, pink? Something you can dance to? Some colours are ugly, but I wouldn't want to live in a world without them. And some music you just can't dance to, but it utterly moves you anyway.
I once had this online back-and-forth email thing with this Bay Street dude I met on CL. He was trying to arrange a hookup and in the meantime we had some interesting although too high-minded chat. He came off as very well-educated but sort of faux-erudite. There was some serious hubris there too. And yet he complained bitterly that his lowdown ex-wife was taking him to the cleaners for alimony, meanwhile she had an MBA and made lots of money... whatever. I never hooked up with him because I felt that it was just sort of... the tiniest bit creepy and worse, he was trying too hard. Like, he referenced too many fancy books and ideas. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Just that I hate the highly edjumacated.
In one email he went on about Proust and how much he admired him. And then he sent his answers to Proust's questionnaire, and had I heard of it? Would I care to respond in kind?
I had to laugh when I read that. I wrote back, Oh yeah, I kinda hate quizzes in general but I like that one. It's in the back of Vanity Fair every month. I love that magazine, it's so New York but panders to L.A. And they ask actresses and socialites about what face creams and luxury sheets they buy. Hee. I did like being able to drag my favourite toilet-and-airplane reading material into it.
Vanity Fair's Version of the Proust Questionnaire (my answers today)
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Having a good time with friends and family; when I have money in the bank; when I'm sitting in the dark at a movie by myself, eating popcorn with butter; puttering in the garden, sweating, weeding and planting; reading on the beach; strolling around Black Rock City.
What is your greatest fear?
That my parents would die and I would be an orphan; that I would have to take care of my brother
What is your most marked characteristic?
I say irreverent things.
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I'm not a good saver.
Which living person do you most despise?
Any living teacher from St. Clement's who I used to loathe.
What is your greatest extravagance?
Perfume. Flowers.
What is your current state of mind?
Excellent. Emotionally a little tired. Highly sexed. A little stressed about work. But not much.
What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Humility. Modesty, when it's false.
On what occasion do you lie?
When I don't get charged for something at the store I say nothing, usually.
What do you dislike most about your appearance?
Recently one evening my hair looked like the dude's in No Country for Old Men. I disliked it and also disliked when the pictures showed up on facebook.
What is the quality you most like in a man?
Ugh, pass. In the way that this means, I have nothing to say. If in a person in general, just whatever makes you click as friends and compadres.
What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Kindness. Wit. Compassion. Curves. Dark brown hair.
Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
It changes. Recently "Hells yeah!" and "Well fuck me runnin!" And calling everyone "Foo".
Who or what is the greatest love of your life?
Her name is Sarah.
When and where were you happiest?
There's a lot of happiness and happy times. It's sort of like the colours thing above. When I'm with anyone I love. Dancing at weddings. When I'm alone. When I'm travelling somewhere amazing. When I'm having a good cup of coffee. When I'm lying in bed with Sarah. When I lived in Italy. When I was a camper at summer camp. When I was a counsellor at summer camp.
If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
I would have skipped university altogether.
Which talent would you most like to have?
A superhero power like flying or being invisible. Or just being that person who can play the piano amazingly well and who can take requests play ANYTHING and everyone stands around singing at parties, ditto the guitar.
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I looked after her.
If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
Myself, again and do it all over again, knowing what I know now. I so love this journey of life I would like to live it again as me.
Where would you like to live?
Truckee. The southwest desert. Italy. Los Angeles. Sanibel. As an affluent citizen in ancient Rome for one day.
What is your most treasured possession?
My mom's wedding band which I wear on my pinkie and which people sometimes mistake as an engineer's iron ring. I put it on my finger the last time she went into the hospital.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Neglect, hunger and uncertainty.
What is your favourite occupation?
Acting.
Who is your favourite hero of fiction?
Mary Yellan.
What are your favourite names?
For the sake of privacy I will not print them.
What is it that you most dislike?
When people are jerks.
How would you like to die?
It doesn't matter.
What is your motto?
Be nice to folks.
The other day Sarah asked me if I could see any band in the world, dead, alive, together or broken up, who would I see? I really needed time to answer that. I think I still need time. I think if I was about 7 years old I would like to see The Beach Boys. If I was 12 I'd like to see The Who. Every concert I go to is immediately my favourite one. Every band and musician that I like is my favourite. It's like trying to pick my favourite colour: absolutely impossible. Um, pink? Something you can dance to? Some colours are ugly, but I wouldn't want to live in a world without them. And some music you just can't dance to, but it utterly moves you anyway.
I once had this online back-and-forth email thing with this Bay Street dude I met on CL. He was trying to arrange a hookup and in the meantime we had some interesting although too high-minded chat. He came off as very well-educated but sort of faux-erudite. There was some serious hubris there too. And yet he complained bitterly that his lowdown ex-wife was taking him to the cleaners for alimony, meanwhile she had an MBA and made lots of money... whatever. I never hooked up with him because I felt that it was just sort of... the tiniest bit creepy and worse, he was trying too hard. Like, he referenced too many fancy books and ideas. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Just that I hate the highly edjumacated.
In one email he went on about Proust and how much he admired him. And then he sent his answers to Proust's questionnaire, and had I heard of it? Would I care to respond in kind?
I had to laugh when I read that. I wrote back, Oh yeah, I kinda hate quizzes in general but I like that one. It's in the back of Vanity Fair every month. I love that magazine, it's so New York but panders to L.A. And they ask actresses and socialites about what face creams and luxury sheets they buy. Hee. I did like being able to drag my favourite toilet-and-airplane reading material into it.
Vanity Fair's Version of the Proust Questionnaire (my answers today)
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Having a good time with friends and family; when I have money in the bank; when I'm sitting in the dark at a movie by myself, eating popcorn with butter; puttering in the garden, sweating, weeding and planting; reading on the beach; strolling around Black Rock City.
What is your greatest fear?
That my parents would die and I would be an orphan; that I would have to take care of my brother
What is your most marked characteristic?
I say irreverent things.
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I'm not a good saver.
Which living person do you most despise?
Any living teacher from St. Clement's who I used to loathe.
What is your greatest extravagance?
Perfume. Flowers.
What is your current state of mind?
Excellent. Emotionally a little tired. Highly sexed. A little stressed about work. But not much.
What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Humility. Modesty, when it's false.
On what occasion do you lie?
When I don't get charged for something at the store I say nothing, usually.
What do you dislike most about your appearance?
Recently one evening my hair looked like the dude's in No Country for Old Men. I disliked it and also disliked when the pictures showed up on facebook.
What is the quality you most like in a man?
Ugh, pass. In the way that this means, I have nothing to say. If in a person in general, just whatever makes you click as friends and compadres.
What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Kindness. Wit. Compassion. Curves. Dark brown hair.
Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
It changes. Recently "Hells yeah!" and "Well fuck me runnin!" And calling everyone "Foo".
Who or what is the greatest love of your life?
Her name is Sarah.
When and where were you happiest?
There's a lot of happiness and happy times. It's sort of like the colours thing above. When I'm with anyone I love. Dancing at weddings. When I'm alone. When I'm travelling somewhere amazing. When I'm having a good cup of coffee. When I'm lying in bed with Sarah. When I lived in Italy. When I was a camper at summer camp. When I was a counsellor at summer camp.
If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
I would have skipped university altogether.
Which talent would you most like to have?
A superhero power like flying or being invisible. Or just being that person who can play the piano amazingly well and who can take requests play ANYTHING and everyone stands around singing at parties, ditto the guitar.
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I looked after her.
If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
Myself, again and do it all over again, knowing what I know now. I so love this journey of life I would like to live it again as me.
Where would you like to live?
Truckee. The southwest desert. Italy. Los Angeles. Sanibel. As an affluent citizen in ancient Rome for one day.
What is your most treasured possession?
My mom's wedding band which I wear on my pinkie and which people sometimes mistake as an engineer's iron ring. I put it on my finger the last time she went into the hospital.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Neglect, hunger and uncertainty.
What is your favourite occupation?
Acting.
Who is your favourite hero of fiction?
Mary Yellan.
What are your favourite names?
For the sake of privacy I will not print them.
What is it that you most dislike?
When people are jerks.
How would you like to die?
It doesn't matter.
What is your motto?
Be nice to folks.
Spicy Baconator Review
I must preface this by saying that I have had a virus for the last several days and really a low appetite and a lessened sense of taste. Today I didn't go to work nor did I do any work from home. When I cough it sounds nasty and rattle-y. And my kidneys hurt. To feel better I got dressed and got in my car and did a couple of errands. It was kind of a nice day outside. I went to the drive-thru and ordered a Spicy Baconator and a medium coke. I was really, really looking forward to the coke. My order was over $8. I said to the girl "that's a pretty expensive sandwich," and she said "yes it is." I noticed first how I was eating a LOT of beef. The sauce is hot. The jalapenos are vinegar-y (and hot). The bun is big and bread-y. All the ingredients are fresh. But overall I liked the coke best. As for heat... not so much. As you know I can put any South Indian or jerk lover to shame in terms of eating hot stuff. I have eaten both a shooter of jalapenos and a big ball of wasabi just for fun (OK I was drunk in both those cases). Who could forget that time I ate a death wing smothered in Armageddon sauce?
It did feel good to go outside, walk the doggies, chat with Marla at Winkel, and look in Damsels.
Oh yeah, Madonna is stupid. And hot.
I must preface this by saying that I have had a virus for the last several days and really a low appetite and a lessened sense of taste. Today I didn't go to work nor did I do any work from home. When I cough it sounds nasty and rattle-y. And my kidneys hurt. To feel better I got dressed and got in my car and did a couple of errands. It was kind of a nice day outside. I went to the drive-thru and ordered a Spicy Baconator and a medium coke. I was really, really looking forward to the coke. My order was over $8. I said to the girl "that's a pretty expensive sandwich," and she said "yes it is." I noticed first how I was eating a LOT of beef. The sauce is hot. The jalapenos are vinegar-y (and hot). The bun is big and bread-y. All the ingredients are fresh. But overall I liked the coke best. As for heat... not so much. As you know I can put any South Indian or jerk lover to shame in terms of eating hot stuff. I have eaten both a shooter of jalapenos and a big ball of wasabi just for fun (OK I was drunk in both those cases). Who could forget that time I ate a death wing smothered in Armageddon sauce?
It did feel good to go outside, walk the doggies, chat with Marla at Winkel, and look in Damsels.
Oh yeah, Madonna is stupid. And hot.
Friday, March 21, 2008
What Sarah Went and Did
She started a donation chain to build a house for a family in New Orleans. AND... she will be traveling there soon to check out the site!
Please read about her HOUSE THAT CANADIANS BUILT.
Maybe even donate? That would be so nice.
Her fundraising email went something like this:
Hello all!
Please take just a moment to read through this email, check out the link and DONATE! I feel really good about this. Some of you know my connection to New Orleans. I have travelled there several times over the years. Simply put- the best place on earth. I will be travelling to New Orleans Apr 30-May 7 2008. I have hooked up with Brad Pitt's organization 'Make it Right' and started a group 'The House that Canadians built'. Any and all donations to this group will go towards this house. It takes $150,000 to build one house. If you think that 5, 20 or 50 bucks doesn't go far, you're wrong. Read more in the link. Whether you have been to New Orleans or not, this is simply about people helping people. I thought that if you knew where your money was going, you may be less apprehensive about donating. ALL donations are tax deductible. During my trip there, I will take photos of where 'our' house will be built. I will start a flickr account so that you can get an idea of what the area looks like and how desperate they (still) are for help. If you are a part of facebook, I will also start a facebook group to further spread the word. I'm always amazed at what one person can accomplish. Please seriously consider this. All I can do is spread the word and donate myself. My hope is that you will pass this on to everyone in your address book etc... and who knows, perhaps we can hit the 150,000 mark simply through word of mouth. How amazing would it feel to be part of the 'house that canadians built'?Thanks so much for your time.
To find 'our house' go to makeitrightnola.org. Click on 'Donations' and navigate to 'Team Sponsored Homes'. Scroll down to the bottom where you will find 'The House that Canadians built'- that's us! If you have problems finding this link, contact me. I really appreciate your consideration. My hope is the beautiful people of New Orleans will continue to pump soul into this world through the help of strangers and random acts of kindness.
Sincerely, Sarah
She started a donation chain to build a house for a family in New Orleans. AND... she will be traveling there soon to check out the site!
Please read about her HOUSE THAT CANADIANS BUILT.
Maybe even donate? That would be so nice.
Her fundraising email went something like this:
Hello all!
Please take just a moment to read through this email, check out the link and DONATE! I feel really good about this. Some of you know my connection to New Orleans. I have travelled there several times over the years. Simply put- the best place on earth. I will be travelling to New Orleans Apr 30-May 7 2008. I have hooked up with Brad Pitt's organization 'Make it Right' and started a group 'The House that Canadians built'. Any and all donations to this group will go towards this house. It takes $150,000 to build one house. If you think that 5, 20 or 50 bucks doesn't go far, you're wrong. Read more in the link. Whether you have been to New Orleans or not, this is simply about people helping people. I thought that if you knew where your money was going, you may be less apprehensive about donating. ALL donations are tax deductible. During my trip there, I will take photos of where 'our' house will be built. I will start a flickr account so that you can get an idea of what the area looks like and how desperate they (still) are for help. If you are a part of facebook, I will also start a facebook group to further spread the word. I'm always amazed at what one person can accomplish. Please seriously consider this. All I can do is spread the word and donate myself. My hope is that you will pass this on to everyone in your address book etc... and who knows, perhaps we can hit the 150,000 mark simply through word of mouth. How amazing would it feel to be part of the 'house that canadians built'?Thanks so much for your time.
To find 'our house' go to makeitrightnola.org. Click on 'Donations' and navigate to 'Team Sponsored Homes'. Scroll down to the bottom where you will find 'The House that Canadians built'- that's us! If you have problems finding this link, contact me. I really appreciate your consideration. My hope is the beautiful people of New Orleans will continue to pump soul into this world through the help of strangers and random acts of kindness.
Sincerely, Sarah
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Nuff Said
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Breast(s) MRI
It was kind of a bad adventure.
St. Michael's hospital is a dingy maze. But when we got there (1/2 hour early) the MRI technician took me in right away. As usual Sarah has been with me every step of the way.
UGH, I had to have an IV of contrast dye in me... and it kind of made me kind of woozy. And then I was face-down in the machine. I am not claustrophobic but this was unreal. My boobs were hanging down in their own little cave, gravity was doing all the placement work. My face was squished and pushed back. I was breathing well and lying very still. But my hands were reaching in front of me like superman, so sort of unnatural. And my head was resting on this weird blocky thing.
After a while I got stiff and had to remember to breath. And the machine is very, very, very loud. But... it was making pattern-y noises like some of the music at Burning Man... so honestly I thought about Burning Man a lot. And I thought about Shawn. And I thought about Sarah and I thought about the 3 of us going on our adventure this summer at BM.
I was ok for the first half hour. The last half hour was tough and the last 15 mins was pretty painful. I had a breathing mantra going for the in ("lie very still") and the out ("be at peace"). I was SO disoriented afterwards, I had trouble standing up. When I left the MRI room I felt GREEN. Very sore, headachey and woozy. Then I had a little cry in the car (nervous about results; happy that Sarah was with me). Then we had lunch and I felt better. Then I slept from 3pm - 5pm. Then I walked the dog for an hour.
It was kind of a bad adventure.
St. Michael's hospital is a dingy maze. But when we got there (1/2 hour early) the MRI technician took me in right away. As usual Sarah has been with me every step of the way.
UGH, I had to have an IV of contrast dye in me... and it kind of made me kind of woozy. And then I was face-down in the machine. I am not claustrophobic but this was unreal. My boobs were hanging down in their own little cave, gravity was doing all the placement work. My face was squished and pushed back. I was breathing well and lying very still. But my hands were reaching in front of me like superman, so sort of unnatural. And my head was resting on this weird blocky thing.
After a while I got stiff and had to remember to breath. And the machine is very, very, very loud. But... it was making pattern-y noises like some of the music at Burning Man... so honestly I thought about Burning Man a lot. And I thought about Shawn. And I thought about Sarah and I thought about the 3 of us going on our adventure this summer at BM.
I was ok for the first half hour. The last half hour was tough and the last 15 mins was pretty painful. I had a breathing mantra going for the in ("lie very still") and the out ("be at peace"). I was SO disoriented afterwards, I had trouble standing up. When I left the MRI room I felt GREEN. Very sore, headachey and woozy. Then I had a little cry in the car (nervous about results; happy that Sarah was with me). Then we had lunch and I felt better. Then I slept from 3pm - 5pm. Then I walked the dog for an hour.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Your Life Story in Six Words
Hee, I thought up a few.
Bold. Orphan. Now I like girls.
Pretty smart, but always second runner-up.
Feels like I was here before.
Actressy intelligence. Nerd on the inside.
Hee, I thought up a few.
Bold. Orphan. Now I like girls.
Pretty smart, but always second runner-up.
Feels like I was here before.
Actressy intelligence. Nerd on the inside.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
The Dude in My Backyard and the Raccoons in My Roof
About a week ago I awoke to the sound of someone walking around in the snow in my backyard. This was 4am. I got out of bed and looked out (note: I have very few window coverings and I never close them anyway). I saw - I THOUGHT I saw - a man leaning against my fence in Audrey's backyard. I freaked, my heart raced. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 911. I hid against my bedroom wall and peeped out every so often, and then the figure was gone. The police came - four of them in two cars, and walked all over my house, my yard, next door, shining their flashlights. They were extremely tall. One of them bonked their head on my TV room light fixture. When it obvious there was no intruder, I showed them out and then thought, "Oh my god, my hair!" One cruiser remained parked in the alley for the rest of the night.
I guess because of the nocturnal noises I've been hearing of late, the ice forming and breaking on my eaves troughs, people skulking around from the recent open house next door, the nightly fracking raccoon party in my crawlspace, the break-in attempt at my dining room window (it has bars now), the bottle collectors endlessly checking the garbage at the side of the house, the poor folks knocking on the door offering to shovel my snow for $5... all these things have collectively made me a little nervous about security. I'm one woman alone with a shovel beside the bed. Yes, I will take an intruder out with a garden spade.
About a week ago I awoke to the sound of someone walking around in the snow in my backyard. This was 4am. I got out of bed and looked out (note: I have very few window coverings and I never close them anyway). I saw - I THOUGHT I saw - a man leaning against my fence in Audrey's backyard. I freaked, my heart raced. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 911. I hid against my bedroom wall and peeped out every so often, and then the figure was gone. The police came - four of them in two cars, and walked all over my house, my yard, next door, shining their flashlights. They were extremely tall. One of them bonked their head on my TV room light fixture. When it obvious there was no intruder, I showed them out and then thought, "Oh my god, my hair!" One cruiser remained parked in the alley for the rest of the night.
I guess because of the nocturnal noises I've been hearing of late, the ice forming and breaking on my eaves troughs, people skulking around from the recent open house next door, the nightly fracking raccoon party in my crawlspace, the break-in attempt at my dining room window (it has bars now), the bottle collectors endlessly checking the garbage at the side of the house, the poor folks knocking on the door offering to shovel my snow for $5... all these things have collectively made me a little nervous about security. I'm one woman alone with a shovel beside the bed. Yes, I will take an intruder out with a garden spade.
