Video Game Nerdiness

Tonight I blog because Ted and Tammy are engaged in a rousing game of "Crash Twinsanity" a PS2 game (sequel to Crash Bandicoot, parts 1 through 6 (or 7) by now). I'm not one who gets into the action-adventure games we have. That's more Ted's arena, whereas I'm more of a driver, shooter, blow-em-up kind of gamer. Ted plays all these elaborate games that take so much concentration, focus and skill, I feel like I'm in Grade 3 just watching him work his genius and his patience in his favour. He'd laugh at me saying that. hee But honestly I suck at anything too-too complicated. I like Grand Theft Auto, and Twisted Metal, and Destroy All Humans and Burnout 3/Revenge. Violent stuff no doubt, but I find it therapeutic at times to drive around blowing things up in a video game after getting stuck in traffic. Admittedly, I haven't been stuck in traffic in awhile. So I don't know what my excuse is for liking the brainless violence games. Hmmmph. Anyhow, the point I'm getting at is that I'm glad he's got a friend who likes playing the games he enjoys. (Many of our friends don't play video games of any kind.)

Anyhoo, after splaying my nerdiness onto the internet (hee) I'll quickly close (because we're going to watch a movie this evening.) I hope to write again tomorrow, but if not: Happy New Year!

"New Year's Day" by Carolyn Arends

I buy a lot of diaries
Fill them full of good intentions
Each and every New Year's Eve
I make myself a list
All the things I'm gonna change
Until January 2nd
So this time I'm making one promise

Chorus:
This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day
This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day

I believe it's possible
I believe in new beginnings
'Cause I believe in Christmas Day
And Easter morning too
And I'm convinced it's doable
'Cause I believe in second chances
Just the way that I believe in you

This will be my resolution
Every day is New Year's Day
This could start a revolution
Every day is...
One more chance to start all over
One more chance to change and grow
One more chance to grab a hold of grace
And never let it go
Repeat chorus

Farty-Fart-Fart-Fart

I know I've mentioned briefly before that I have an odd fascination with fart and/or poop humour. Bodily functions in general tend to make me giggle with juvenile glee. But did you know that this simple immature fixation will win-over just about any child? I know this because I have 3 nieces and a nephew of my own, and 2 nieces and 2 nephews on Ted's side... and kids are generally stand-offish with me (which suits me just fine, 'cause to be truthful, I'm not terribly fond of children - especially babies - mind you fart humour has no effect whatsoever on babies, so maybe that's why I want nothing to do with them.) until you start talkin' "poopie" and "farts". Kids love that crap. Literally - HAR!
So why the flatulence talk? Well, it was kind of the b-side theme of Christmas weekend. First-off, there's Porthos: The most fartiest-farter-hound in the world. He wanders around passing gas (loudly I might add) on a good day, but on a bad day... oh... I dunno... let's say when people are stuffing him with doggie treats he's never had before or morsels of turkey when Ted and I aren't looking (I know it was goin' on.) he starts releasing the most noxious gas ever to escape a dog's posterior. I'm tellin' ya - baby-dog was clearin' rooms this weekend.
Then... there's Nathan, Ted's youngest nephew (4yrs old); who's been taught through various sources (myself included) that farts are funny, but... farts are "funnier" when shared. (much to his mother's chagrin) He made me laugh big time when he let an audible "ripper" go while Ted was holding him and then proceeded to insist that uncle Ted smell his butt. Ted refused of course, but this only angered Nathan. "I've cooked up a good one damn you, now you can bloody well enjoy the bouquet"! (ok, so that's Stewie Griffin, not Nathan. But you get the picture.)
Then last, but not least (and unintentionally I swear) there was my gassing of Crissy, Rachel and Sarah in the car before we drove home. I vow upon my father's grave that I honestly thought there was enough wind outside to carry the fumes far, far away before I got in the car. But sadly once I opened the door it acted as a scoop for foul odours. All at once Chrissy's wee Kia was overwhelmed and the 3 girls inside... ...trapped without mercy. Mwwahahaha wheeeeee....
Good times.
Hey, I swore it was unintentional. That's not to say I can't be giddy with an accidental dutch oven.

I'm such a child.

Let's pray this isn't my final blog entry for the year, shall we?

On a more "tasteful" note, last night Ted and I were sitting, watching TV with Cole between us and Porthos dead-to-the-world by himself on the love seat, when suddenly Porthos starts wagging his tail with great thumping enthusiasm... in his sleep. I love the thought of dogs having happy dreams. Squirrels that can't run away, a bottomless bowl of leftover cereal milk, and a bevy of foreign doggie butts to sniff without being told to stop... whatever it is... sweet dreams my happy puppies.

Given how this post has been largely a "fluff" piece if you'll pardon the pun, my song of the day will be a cheesy country song from my youth in the 80's (with a doggie theme) that had a video that made me cry. Now that I look at the lyrics I hesitate to follow-through, but hey - not all of the songs I mention are in the "rush out and buy it" category. Certainly not this one.

"Feed Jake" by Pirates of the Mississippi.

I'm standing at the crossroads in life...
And I don't know which way to go...
You know you've got my heart, babe...
But my music's got my soul...
Let me play it one more time...
I'll tell the truth and make it rhyme...
And hope they understand me...

Now I lay me down to sleep...
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
He's been a good dog...
My best friend right through it all...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...

Now Broadway's like a sewer...
Bums and hookers everywhere...
Wino passed out on the sidewalk...
Doesn't anybody care?
Some say he's worthless, just let him be...
I for one would have to disagree...
And so would their mommas...

Now I lay me down to sleep...
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
And if I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
He's been a good dog...
My best friend right through it all...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...

Now, if you get an ear pierced...
Some will call you gay...
But if you drive a pickup...
They say, no, you must be straight...
What we are and what we ain't...
What we can and what we can't... ***notably sung to rhyme with "ain't" hee
Doesn't really matter...

Now I lay me down to sleep...
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
And if I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
He's been a good dog...
My best friend right through it all...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...
If I die before I wake...
feed Jake...

****This was a huge hit. WTF huh??

Of Hockey, Wrapping Paper and Piggery

Hidilly Ho Neighbours,

I'm back at frickin' work already. Such is the life of a radio slob unless of course the slob works for a really big radio station that closes down between Christmas and New Year's Eve. Anyhow, here I sit and I'd just about rather be anywhere. Namely at home in bed, recovering from a very busy weekend.

The plan was to have had time at some point over the weekend to sit down and write a nice, festive blog entry with all the holiday sentiment I could muster, but that obviously never happened like every other relaxing thing I wanted to do this weekend. No, no, I'm not bitter even though my words might suggest a tinge of disgruntled-ness. Santa was good to me and the whole nine yards. I just sometimes wish I could sit down with the tree lit and listen to some holiday music and just "be". Over the past 5-7 years Christmas has become such a circus that I find it just runs me down. And as a side-note, boy was I miffed to be running around on Christmas Eve (day) to look for wrapping paper that I asked Ted to pick up twice over the past week. Not even freaking Wal-Mart had wrapping paper!! We tried, Wal-Mart, 2 Zellers, Canadian Tire, The Bay, Costco, 2 Dominions, Hallmark, a (nondescript) dollar store, PharmaPlus and 2 Shoppers Drugmart's before finding any wrapping paper. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't wrapping paper one of those wonderful boxing day sale items you're supposed to be able to stock up on for next year's Christmas fiasco? I know I've picked some up post-Christmas before. Needless to say, a good portion of Ted's family almost had their gifts wrapped in tin foil and toilet paper, because of this unannounced paper embargo.

Additionally, of all places nobody would expect to find me on a Saturday night, would be the Air Canada Centre, watching a Leafs game, but there I was, and I had a great time too. Not that that could turn me into a bonafide hockey fan. I spent a great deal of time bitching (jokingly) that the biggest of reasons why the "Leafs" suck is because their name is grammatically incorrect. Everyone knows it "should" be the Toronto Maple "Leaves", which is a total wussy name, but regardless - that is what it should be. Or perhaps the "Toronto Maple Mooses" if they'd like to switch to some equally ridiculously incorrect Canadiana. Meh, whatever huh? They lost. Boo hoo.
After the hockey game we came home and I decorated the tree finally (it's been up and lighted for weeks, just not decorated) while Ted and Tammy baked up a storm. A very festive evening overall. I'll remember it fondly forever. And the weekend as a whole was rife with festive piggery which I both relish and regret simultaneously. It's a bad scene for waistlines.

Now tonight we host dinner for Ted's dad and his wife before our lives can return to normal. Ted's sister, her two daughters and dog, left today after a 4-day visit. What am I looking forward to the most once the holidays are over???? Sex my friends. Sex, glorious sex. It is one thing that Santa cannot bring when your home is so blatantly over-populated with guests. At this point, even Santa would look good to me.

I will refrain from wishing everyone a Happy New Year just yet, for the added incentive to write more blog entries before 2006 comes to a close.

Song of the day... one of my favourites this year: "Like it or Not" by Madonna.

You can call me a sinner
You can call me a saint
Celebrate me for who I am
Dislike me for what I ain't
Put me up on a pedestal
Or drag me down in the dirt
Sticks and stones will break my bones
But your words will never hurt

I'll be the garden
You be the snake
All of my fruit is yours to take
Better the devil that you know
Your love for me will grow
Because

This is who I am
You can
Like it or not
You can
Love me or leave me
Cus I'm never gonna stop
No no

Cleopatra had her way
Matahari too
Whether they were good or bad
Is strictly up to you
Life is a paradox
and it doesn't make much sense
Can't have the "femme" without the "fatale".
Please don't take offense

Don't let the fruit rot
under the vine
Fill up your cup
and let's drink the wine
Better the devil that you know
Your love for me will grow
Because

Cyber Christmas Karma Greetings

Just sending out a cosmic internet message to all the people I love whom I've neglected to send a Christmas card to this year. Rest assured that absolutely no one got a Christmas card from me this year, not that I suspect that there are many whose holiday cheer hinges upon whether or not they hear from me. But trust me, there's a long list of people who enter my thoughts at this time of year above all others, and I wish I could spend a little time with all of them. If you're reading this you're very likely one of those people.

So, Merry Christmas to everyone who knows me or has ever known me, may you rediscover even just a smidgen of the magical anticipation that made the holidays so special when you were young. It's hard to come by in this day and age when you secretly feel a little ashamed that there's a secret part of you that just wants it to be over. (or maybe that's just me - hopefully it is.)

Welcome to Our World - Michael W. Smith

Tears are falling,
hearts are breaking
How we need to hear from God
You've been promised,
we've been waiting
Welcome Holy Child
Welcome Holy Child

Hope that you don't mind our manger
How I wish we would have known
But long awaited Holy Stranger
Make yourself at home
Please make yourself at home

Bring your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
World now breaking Heaven's silence
Welcome To Our World
Welcome To Our World

Fragile finger sent to heal us
Tender brow prepared for thorn
Tiny heart whose blood will save us
Unto us is born
Unto us is born

So wrap our injured flesh around you
Breathe our air and walk our sod
Rob our sin and make us holy
Perfect Son of God
Perfect Son of God
Welcome To Our World

I Actually Wish It Would Snow

I shouldn't be writing in my blog right now, because I'm drowning in Boxing Day sales and all the hellishness that comes every radio copywriters way once December rears its ugly head. But... here I am blogging anyhow. Mainly because I simply cannot wait any longer to document that my wretched course is over, and for posterity's sake (my own anyhow) this is the recap of my marks:

Module 1: 84 %
Module 2: 88 %
Module 3: 93 %
Module 4: 92 %
Module 5: 92 %
Module 6: 77 %
Module 7: 88 %
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Course Average: 93 % (88 % + 5% bonus marks)
Final Exam: 83 %
Total Course Mark: 88 %

Pretty damned spiffy for something I initially would have rather skipped in favour of having flaming bamboo chutes soaked in vinegar, wedged under my toe-nails. Yeah, so it still means nothing other than having the letters "CRC" after my title. I'm just relieved to have it over-and-done-with.

In other (far more) exciting news: We're going to see "Wicked" tonight! eeeee... I think I just peed a little. (No, not really, but that's how excited I am.) This of course means we'll be watching the penultimate episode of Survivor tomorrow night with Rogers on Demand, so nobody tell me who goes home tonight!! Truly that's the hardest part about missing your favourite reality show isn't it?

This weekend we're also making an impromptu visit to Kingston (Sunday day trip only) so I can hand-deliver presents I haven't bought yet and furthermore have no actual money with which to purchase. Bury me with my credit cards folks. (Incidentally, the tickets for Wicked were free, just in case that brought about any curiousity.)

Anyhoo... in the spirit of the season... one of my favourite Christmas songs. (I know, I know, more Amy Grant. I'll try to abstain from listing any Amy songs for a good long while in the new year. ) "Christmas Can't Be Very Far Away".

Little bits of heaven
Floating gently by the window
Soon this dirty city will be
Covered with a new snow
Let's put on our winter boots
Go outside and play
Christmas can't be very far away

Weather girl says bundle up
It's gonna be a cold one
I'll put on my woolly hat
You'll wear your dad's old Stetson
Pretty lights are everywhere
Shining night and day
Christmas can't be very far away

Let's take a walk downtown
Go dream shopping in the mall
The kids can do the Santa thing
Photographs and all
We'll get the biggest tree this year
And trim it to the top
And spend a whole lot more than what we've got
But so what

Come next spring I know we will be
Ready for the sunshine
Right now throwin' snowballs
At each other's such a fun time
Kids will think we're crazy
For a while and that's okay
Christmas can't be very far away
Christmas can't be very far away

On the Way to Where I'm Going

I was going to make a post today about all the hurdles in my life that I feel I need to clear, but I think the thing weighing heaviest on my mind is my mother. And maybe if I ramble on a bit about her, I can find some clarity. Whether or not that's "Blog Worthy" I'm not certain, but seeing as how I have only about 3 or 4 faithful readers, it doesn't seem to matter as long as I trust those who are reading, with some of my deepest personal thoughts, which I do.

Anybody who knows me, knows that I do not have a good and healthy relationship with my mother. Even my father once referred to her as a "dogmatic zealot" and that's about as good a place to start describing her as any.

I love my mother. I really do. She has a good and generous heart and rarely ever, does someone meet her and not immediately think she's a sweet lady. She loves her children with a ferocious, and all-consuming concern for their spirituality and the ultimate destination of their souls in the afterlife. It's what goes on in "this" life that my mom isn't so good at handling.

My mother was born (in 1938) during the final phase of the great depression and raised in a family that for all my observation was completely emotionally crippled. My grandfather was an old school man, who worked the railway, deeply and hatefully prejudiced and was of the firm belief that you should never throw any belonging away, boys didn't cry, meat wasn't edible until it was burned to cinders, and you should never leave your house unattended because all the neighbours are thieves. My grandmother was always very sweet to me as a child, but to this day I'm not certain what her relationship was like with her own kids (my mother, aunts and uncle). My mom loved her very much and was with her when she died, but I know my mom also had issues with her that she never spoke about.
That's almost all the history I know about my mom's life aside from a few childhood stories, the most recounted of all being: how she found Jesus in a one-room school-house/church when she was 13 years old. And that was the love-story of her life.
I've always admired her faith and I still do to a degree (of course much more so when I was a child). My dad was not the love of her life, and although I think they did love one another in a co-dependent kind of way, there was more resentment and manipulation to my parents marriage than what I've come to know as a nurturing and respectful love. That's not to say I'm an expert on love, but growing up around behaviour I thought was perfectly normal as a kid, that turns out to be just plain sad when you see it beside the loving relationships that were the backbone of other families, helps you to see what you grew up lacking.

My mom and dad engaged in premarital sex (cue the shocked and appalled audience) when they were in their teens, my mom got pregnant, they were married (in 1954) at 18 and 16 years of age, and my mom miscarried the baby thereafter. So, as sad a summary as that is, it's more tragic to know that with the death of that unborn child the primary reason for their marriage was suddenly gone. It goes without saying that they stayed together of course. After two more miscarriages, my sister Cheryl was born in 1957, and my sister Darlene followed in 1960. (I didn't come along until 1973 when my mom was 35, my dad was 37, and my sisters were 16 and 13 respectively)

Every kid with an evenly remotely loving mother thinks the world of her, and I did. I thought my mom hung the moon for a great portion of my childhood. She was always there for me to take care of every cut and scrape, every school bake sale, every illness I ever had, every bedtime bible story, and every trip to church and Sunday School. In my mind, my mom was the best, and I still think of her fondly when I remember all those things. If there was ever a thing that my mom tried to instill in me it was spirituality and faith in the bible. It was all I knew and being an angelically good (there's not even a hint of sarcasm in that - I was a GOOD child), attentive and smart kid, I followed in her footsteps. And I don't think it was until after my dad's first heart attack that I ever wavered in my good behaviour (not that that event had anything to do with my behaviour - just a benchmark in my own time line). My dad's first heart-attack was in.... (God this post has involved a lot of math) 1981 and I was in Grade 3.

(interruptus grandiosus) I'm in the midst of doing housework and various other tasks today... so I'm going to have to continue this post at another time. Hmmph... and I didn't even get around to my horrible relationship with my mom... imagine that. Well, every story has to start somewhere, and it wouldn't be fair to not talk about her goodness as well, so this is "to be continued". Likely well-after this week is over and done with since there are a few personal deadlines coming up so I'm not likely to be doing much blogging for a bit. Just like me to start something I can't finish.

Song of the day goes with my melancholy mood. "So Unsexy" by Alanis Morissette.

Oh these little rejections
how they add up quickly
One small sideways look and I
feel so ungood
Somewhere along the way I think
I gave you the power to make
Me feel the way I thought only
my father could

Oh these little rejections
how they seem so real to me
One forgotten birthday I'm all but cooked
How these little abandonments
seem to sting so easily
I'm 13 again
am I 13 for good?

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind

Oh these little protections
how they fail to serve me
One forgotten phone call and I'm deflated
Oh these little defenses
how they fail to comfort me
Your hand pulling away and I'm
devastated

When will I stop leaving baby?
When will I stop deserting baby?
When will I start staying with myself?

Oh these little projections
how they keep springing from me
I jump my ship as I take it personally
Oh these little rejections
how they disappear quickly
The moment I decide not to
abandon me

Wicked Survivor Freeek

Got tickets to go and see "Wicked" on December 14th. I cannot TELL you how excited I am about this. I've always really enjoyed the Wizard of Oz. Just watched it not too long ago actually when the special "restored" version came out on DVD. But Wicked for those who don't know, is the tale of the witches of Oz. Supposedly a wonderful musical production. Very much so looking forward to it. THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH Tammy! Gee it's been a long time since I've looked forward to something, and the best news is, I've only got to wait another 13 days to see it. YAY!

Ok, I don't normally dish Survivor on my blog, but last night's episode was FUBAR, and I loved it. I've never seen such open bickering and hate-filled conflict in all the years I've watched Survivor. At the centre of it all: Jonathan. hee. I'll admit he's a bastard, but he's a smart and insightful bastard who's simply playing a game (and playing it well - for now). Ted can't STAND Jonathan because he talks so much, but I just can't bring myself to hate him. He's always got a good point about whatever pie he has his thumb in. By the same token, I think he stands ZERO chance of winning unless somebody else up and kills a baby bunny on camera in front of the jury at tribal council and even then, Jonathan's pretty much hated enough by everybody to still walk away with no million dollars.

I'd almost be willing to bet money that Ozzie's gonna take this one home. He's a little bit under-the-radar in terms of screen time, but you can see he's always thinking and he's a formidable competitor. (part dolphin, part monkey, part shampoo commercial model).

And then there's Yul, whom I'd love to see win, because he's so together. He's intelligent, intuitive, sensitive and beautiful. (love that body baby) But even Yul is showing some weakness as demonstrated last night. He's got himself in a horrible predicament playing Keeper of the Immunity Idol, and he's not winning any loyalty points from the 3... make that 2 remaining Caucasian hotties, but in the end when they've had time to cool off, which all the jury members do, I'm sure they'd still give him the million anyhow. But I detected the slightest amount of ...was it "cockiness" in Yul, last night, talking as though he's already won. That's got to be a mistake - even when you do have the idol.

Additionally, on the topic of the idol; it's going to be interesting to see how it plays out this season seeing as how this is the third time it's been a factor in the game and only the first time everyone knows who has it. I was hoping it would come into play last week when they sent poor, stupid, sexy Nate home, and I question the wisdom of just announcing it to everyone when it's in your possession, but it certainly brings about some priceless facial expressions.

I'm hoping, hoping, hoping that Parvarti gets sent home next. I can't stand her and her bratty self-righteousness. It's one way in which I agree with Jonathan wholeheartedly - a million dollars would screw up her life. She's very immature.

I'm also hoping, hoping, hoping that Adam sticks around for a while even though I think he's a complete idiot. Eye candy extraordinaire is important for Survivor (to both Ted and I anyhow) and Adam.... might be the most delicious piece of said eye candy to hit a Survivor beach since Colby Donaldson. Yes, Adam is a slime-bag who would shag any pretty little thing with breasts, but God... if y'got it, might as well manipulate with it. (and by "it" I mean perfect pecs, abs, face, smile and... well pretty much everything, including that sexy tattoo on his back. The boy is hot.)

Yes, Survivor Cook Islands is a fun, fun season folks.

Song of the day, inspired by how delicious Adam is: "Freeek" by George Michael.

You got yourself some action
Said you got yourself a body
You got yourself an ass with
Mind of it's own bring something to the party

You got yourself addicted
You shoot up, it saves you time
You got yourself a paycheck
Faces in the places where the sun don't shine

I'll be your sexual freeek (freeek)
Of the week
I'll be your inspirational brother (sister)
Yo mama can't you see
I'll be your sexual freeek
Of the week (Ohh touch it)
I'll be your educational lover
Your one-fuck fantasy

Can I come on in, my sweet baby
Can I move on in
Can I come on in, my sweet baby,
Can I move on in

You got yourself some action
Said you got your sexy Java
You got your speed connection
Free chat, fuck that, get a little harder

You got yourself a big bed
You shoot off, take your time
In the house with a bitch and a mouse
And your daddy's plastic how fantastic yeah

I'll be your sexual freeek (Back up on this)
Of the week (Yeah . . . I think I need a re-booty)
I'll be your inspirational brother (Sister)
Yo mama can't you see
I'll be your sexual freeek (B,B,Back)
Of the week (Back back, sexy mama)
I'll be your educational lover(Yeah)
Your one-fuck fantasy

Sexual freeek (Sister)
I think I need a re-booty
Sexual freeek (Sister)
I'll be your sexual freeek,
of the week
I'll be your inspirational brother,
Yo mama can't you see
I'll be your sexual freeek,
of the week
I'll be your educational lover,
your one-fuck fantasy (Sister)

You got yourself some action
Said you got yourself a body
You got yourself an ass with mind of its own
bring something to the party

Come on kids,
don't be scared
It's a tits and ass world you gotta be prepared
Come on kids,
don't be scared
It's a tits and ass world you gotta be prepared
Come on kids,
you know your mama and your daddy don't care
Don't be scared,
it's a tits and ass world you gotta be prepared