the plural of mouse is mice

Elliot isn't the only one with a mouse problem. Though, in reality, mine is more of a cat problem. On Saturday, I picked up what I thought was a dead mouse in order to put a stop to the insane cat fight that was going on in the kitchen. Turned out the cats were so busy fighting each other for the wee rodent that neither of them actually killed it. The poor thing was petrified, and suddenly, I found that I had inadvertantly rescued it from certain (eventual) death. I let it recover and dry off for an hour in a granola bar box, at which point my dear friend Craig showed up. Thank goodness for farm boys! He a) confirmed that it was not a deer mouse and therefore I didn't need to worry about Hanta virus, b) said that it might live if I put it outside, and most importantly c) said he'd take care of it. In my mind, that darling mouse is living happily ever after in the unmowed grass by the dumpster. And needless to say, I bought Craig a coffee.

Today, I received this email from my dad (and for those of you who don't know my dad, this is a pretty typical email):

Hi Catherine and Colin,
Just a few words to let you know ,I' m still basking in sunny California, 23 CEL today and sunny ,no wind,wish you were here, I need a visit, you are too far away.
Going to Honolulu Jan 26th for 2 weeks from Victoria ,three days in Victoria before then. Keeping busy killing gophers with Cianide pills in their hole in the ground and a little water, and poof ,gone, also dancing and golfing.
Love Dad

So, my question is (and mom, if you're reading, perhaps you can offer some insight), how can I possibly be related to this man?!? It's the last sentence that particularly confounds me. And repulses me. It's a mystery. Unless my mom has something she needs to tell me about the mailman? Mom?

fat is a state of mind

Two disclaimers:
1) I am in no way complaining or even implying that I am fat. I am smack-dab in the middle of the healthy weight range according to the BMI, and I am fully aware of that.
2) I know that there is a medical definition of fat, and that it isn't just related to how you feel about yourself.

That said, 10 weeks into school, I feel fat. I sit all day at a computer, and spend much of my evenings sitting at a desk. I'm working extra hours to make up the time that I've taken off to sit in a classroom. I usually walk to work, but now I'm driving three days a week because I can't make it from the university to the hospital in 10 minutes. My diet is terrible because I have so little spare time to shop and cook. And so, I feel sluggish and flabby and unhappy with my body.

It's horrible.

But I'm not looking for sympathy. I know everyone feels like this sometimes. I also know that, how I'm feeling aside, I've got it pretty good. I've always been a size medium, even if right now I'm not a happy medium (haha) .

Trying to take some action to get myself out of this funk. Have signed up for yoga on Monday evenings with my sis. Have actually been to the gym a couple of times lately, though my bunion is holding me back a bit (yes, bunion.... more on that another time). And heading home to make chili to go with the corn muffins I whipped up yesterday. And maybe lift weights, we'll see. That's basically all I can do except hang in there for 3 more weeks. Once this semester is over, my time should be a bit more flexible and I'll be able to take care of myself better.

Until then.... I want my mommy. And guess what? She's taking me out for dinner on Thursday. Not that going out for dinner will help with the feeling fat issue. I'll probably order fries or pizza or something. But at least I'll feel taken care of.

Andre Ethier - Part 2

O. convinced me on Wednesday that I should buy the new Andre Ethier CD. What's the worst that could happen? he asked. Let's see... I could be supremely disappointed. That would take the shine off his first CD, which has brought me so much foot tappin' joy. I often avoid buying anything else out of fear of disappointment, be it books or music, if I'm really into one thing a person has done. So what about Secondathallum? Does it live up to the first? Sadly, not quite.

Good stuff first. The production on this album is great. The overall sound is quite different. Same rollickin', let's-hop-a-boxcar feel as the first, but big. Horns, organ, piano... Bold, lush and baudy. Ethier clearly styles himself after other singers who can't sing. I'm not sure if it's because I also can't sing, but I'm drawn to voices like his. Except for Cohen. Never been a big fan of his monotone style. In any case, really dig Ethier's delivery. Love the swagger, love the growls, love the bittersweet high notes.

So far, you are thinking, it sounds pretty great. What's the problem? For me, the big problem on this album is the songwriting. I don't really know anything about Ethier, but I'm speculating that he's had some relationship issues between the first and this one. It is all about love, which is fine, but I found myself getting a little bored. Not that love is boring, but he seems to have limited things to say about it. Also found his overuse of the phrase "little girl" quite irritating. Same with the honey/honey bee thing. Unlike the first CD, there are some really weak songs on this one. Despite the Stooges reference, Now I Want to Be Your Dad is one of them. And though I love Nick Cave, In With the Prim just doesn't do it for me. The last song sends the album out with a whimper. And any song that starts with the aforementioned "little girl" has been getting the skip.

Don't rush out and buy it. If I ever get an MP3 player, I'll be downloading about four songs, then it's bye-bye.

three years less a day

Tomorrow is the 3rd anniversary of the date that went something like this:

I had an appointment in the morning with my handsome and wonderful dentist, Dr. Dulat. After getting scraped and cleaned and having four caps applied, I went to pick up O at his apartment. We hadn't seen each other for five years, and that last meeting, after a free performance his band did in Old Market Square, was awkward and brief. Much like the other sporatic meetings we had had over the years since we called our two-year relationship quits back in 1991.

I was pretty nervous and excited when I rang his doorbell. So much so that I actually rang his neighbor's doorbell by mistake. We then headed out for lunch at Niko's. It was non-stop blah blah blah. A lot of catching up to do. Lunch was done, but we weren't. It was a glorious November day, so he walked with me to the Village, where I had to go to buy a tin toy robot for my brother-in-law's birthday. Then we walked back to the car. We still weren't done, so we went for coffee at Bar Italia. Many hours passed and it became dinner time. We went to Sushi Train at the Forks. And finally, when it couldn't be put off any longer, I dropped him off at home. We kissed in his doorway, I got into my little blue car and hit the highway.

One the drive back to Brandon, my floor mat got caught under the accelerator pedal. I leaned down to yank it back into place and crunched over the wheel, I was in the perfect position to see a shooting star blaze across the sky. I took that as a good sign.

Tomorrow, it will be the same. Dr. Dulat in the morning. Then lunch. Then a walk through the village. Then coffee. Then sushi. Then a kiss to start our next year. And then I will get into my little blue car and drive back to Brandon.

Green Drinks