LOL Caturday

Thanks to Dog for the caption.

Perfect Moments

This morning I went for a run, and after Tuesday's cross-training extravaganza I felt cricky and sore and, well, not awesome. It was overcast and humid, and I ended up walking the last mile. As I approached the park exit, I noticed the light was just lovely, and the trees were that perfect August green, full and layered. The sun squeaked through the clouds in places and dappled the trees and in that moment everything felt perfectly beautiful.

An hour later I was waiting for the subway, listening to Cyndi Lauper on my iPod and a line in the book I'm reading made me laugh out loud:

When somebody tells you that a certain boy isn't good enough for you, that person has usually not just moved all alone into a crap apartment in a city known for being south of a city that people have heard of.

If you pay attention, the Universe comes through.

The Arrivals Gate

The other morning my iPod shuffled over to one of my favourite Ani DiFranco songs, "The Arrivals Gate." I have listened to this song countless times and have the lyrics memorized, but for some reason that morning when I heard it, I *got* it, and it seemed so applicable and wonderful. For a moment I wished I'd understood it a few months ago -- but months ago I wasn't where I am now, so that would have been impossible, anyway.

Gonna go out
To the arrivals gate at the airport
And sit there all day
Watch people reuniting
Public affection so exciting
It even makes airports ok
Watching children run
With their arms outstretched
Just to throw those arms
Around their grandpa’s neck
Watching lovers plant kisses
Old men to their misses
At their arrivals gate

Watching a mother
With a mother’s smile
Don’t tell me to move
I just wanna sit here for a while
I have determined
It’s a sure cure for cancer
Watching excitement turn family dogs
Into dancers
At the arrivals gate

I got me a white bread sandwich
With some shredded lettuce
And I got me a ringside view
For my quaint little fetish

I just wanna drain my pink little heart
Of all it’s malice
And kick back for the afternoon
In this fluorescent palace

Everybody’s in a hurry
Here in purgatory
Except for me
I’m where I need to be

At the arrivals gate

I'd always taken this song literally, and really, it does reinforce my appreciation of airports (I already like them a lot because: traveling and buying trashy magazines and hunting for outlets). But when I heard it the other day the song had entirely new meaning.

It's really easy to resist change. We cling to what we know, even if it isn't awesome, because it's somehow less scary than the unknown. The thing I wonder is, do we really know the things we think we know? As a friend reminded me a couple of months ago, we're all in periods of transition and uncertainty, all the time. So why are we so afraid to absorb and move with the changes, instead of resisting them?

Call it purgatory, or whatever you want, but yeah, it's all of us, all the time. And today, I'm where I need to be.

Stretch

Stretch
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Perfectly lazy Saturday afternoon.

The Internet Makes Me Giggle

Tonight as I was leaving work, my friend Chad, who's staying Chez BP for a week or so before he embarks on a 2 month trip to Europe, called me to tell me he'd forgotten to bring with him the address of where he was meeting someone for dinner. I couldn't recall the address myself, and asked him if he had GOOG-411, the Google Voice Local Search.

I don't know where I heard about GOOG-411, but I've had it in my phone for a while and have used it a handful of times. It's free (yay Google!) and the times I've used it, it's worked about as well as any other company's voice directories that I've used.

Chad didn't have The Goog, so I told him I'd call and get back to him.

When I was prompted for the name of the business, I said, "Otto." The first option was for Otto's Shrunkenhead (who knew?) on East 14th St. The second option: Otto Restaurant Enoteca Pizza on 5th Ave. Bingo! My choices were then to wait to be connected, or say "Details" for more info. Since I needed the address, I chose the latter and was THEN presented with the option - get ready! - to receive a text message! My brain barely managed to process the awesomeness of that option but I managed to yell "Text message!" into the phone. While I was STILL CONNECTED I received the following text:

Otto Restaurant Enoteca Pizza
212-995-9559
1 5th Ave
New York, NY 10003
http://m.google.com/u/B2hK5I

Not only did I get exactly the information that I needed, I then proceeded to forward the message to Chad so that he would have all the details right on his phone! That? Rocks.

Gentle reader, please, for me, store this number in your phone: 1-800-GOOG-411 (1-800-466-4411). I promise you that it will come in handy. You can thank me when it does.

P.S. According to the GOOG-411 Web site, the service is still only available in the US. Sorry, loyal Canadian readers. But you guys still have exclusive access to ketchup chips.

What A Girl's Gotta Do

Tonight's dinner: A slice of toast* with Nutella, half a pint of Ben & Jerry's Half-Baked Frozen Yogurt and a glass of red wine.

I really can't wait to move into Bachelorette Pad: Loft Edition, now with more kitchen! Coming September 1. Stay tuned.

*Toasted, sadly, in the oven. I hope that BP:LE is also equipped with a toaster.

Orange

A few days ago Dog sent me a link to these fruity-scented USB drives and was surprised when I picked strawberry over orange as my top choice. Later that same week, Lisa told me that I could add her innovative Facebook profile mod that, in addition to Likes and Dislikes, lists Indifferent Tos. She was surprised (or perhaps just disagreed with my opinion) when I listed "orange popsicles" on the third list. (She also said that if I stole her idea she wouldn't even write biter on my wall, and if you have no idea what you just read, don't worry, that just means that you're over 25. Note: I was perplexed at the term "biter" but just this morning realized that I've heard it before and didn't even get it at all. And, that reference was from Dog and apparently now we've come full circle.)

Anyway. This post is supposed to be about things that are orange, and why orange-flavoured things usually don't make my top 10 lists.

When we were kids, my mom used to take my brother & I grocery shopping and let us each pick a flavour of Kool-Aid or Jell-O. Garth ALWAYS picked orange. Like, every single time. And every single time I picked a different non-orange flavour, so our cupboard was half orange-flavoured stuff and half misc. I kind of separated orange from the other flavours in my mind at that point. Since there was always an abundance of it, I seldom choose it even now when there are other options. I'm sure there's a PhD (or at least Master's) psychology thesis in here somewhere about the lasting effects of familial eccentricities.

[The main exception to the orange-flavoured things rule is Creamsicles, which are perfect just as they are.]

DYKWIL? Volume 2

1. That in NY, $2 will get you a PBR or a delicious falafel.

2. Concerts on boats. Whoever thought of that should get a raise and a vacation.

3. The Statue of Liberty.

Old and...

I have agreed not to call Lisa "young and impressionable," however, sometimes the fact that I'm, uh, older than her is inescapable.

For example, the other night at a party, she was describing "lockdown" in Ontario high schools (something like this). Someone turned to me and asked if I'd had lockdowns when I was in high school, and Lisa started to say, "Oh no, she's too..." and then caught herself and trailed off.

This afternoon I did use the phrase "young and impressionable," and she reminded me that I'm not allowed to use it, and continued, "And I won't call you old and... out of style!"

Ouch. That? Cuts deep.

For The People

American or Canadian?
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

A few days ago, someone arrived at UFF by Googling hot redhead wrapped in american flag.

We at UFF listen to our readers and incorporate your suggestions whenever possible.

Enjoy.

Humid

I think this means it's going to be humid:



(84.2°F) And, I [heart] Google.

Do You Know What I Love? Volume 1

1. When you're thirsty and you drink really cold water and you can feel it going down your throat to your stomach.

2. Fresh lemonade (I just discovered this last summer and I can't believe how much I love it) - bonus points if it has some fun herb in it like lavender or mint.

3. Clif Bar's new Maple Nut flavour.

Procrastination

Here's a list of the sh*t I'm supposed to get done tonight:

1. Make a logo/signage for Dos' business.

2. Design the CD label/packaging for Jillian's upcoming show (that's August 1 at the Hope Lounge in Williamsburg).

3. Bake a delicious cake for Gigi's birthday.

4. Learn PHP.

Instead, I'm blogging (lucky you!) - oh, and as I was leaving the office this afternoon, a certain book that I'd pre-ordered was blocking the door. So maybe I'll get all that other stuff done later tomorrow.

I leave you with the lovely Miss Memphis, who seems to be feeling much better these days:

Better

This afternoon K-Dog and I met at the office to GTD our desks. I threw out boxes of old paperwork and already feel lighter. In the purge, I found a bunch of stuff from the triathlon I did 3 years ago, including a sheet of paper entitled WETSUIT INSTRUCTIONS which includes this gem:

TAKING THE WETSUIT OFF
- The more wet you are the better.

Heh.

Summer Nights

Summer in NYC is magical, really. There are approx. 900,000 fun things to do, and every year when Time Out arrives with its listing of summer events, I load up my calendar with everything I could possibly want to go to and then at the beginning of the week make some tough decisions. Recent juggling to accomodate many top priority events included buying Manu Chao tickets for Tuesday's show even though I already had them for Wednesday's show because Jillian with a J was playing her first show on Wednesday, and I just couldn't miss that. (Tuesday night training was lost in that shuffle, and Mander happily purchased Wednesday night's Manu Chao tix.)

Tonight I had the pleasure of seeing Ani DiFranco play in Prospect Park. In addition to her music being wonderful, as usual, I am always struck by how much she seems to be enjoying herself on stage. It's almost like she still can't believe that she gets to do this for a living. It makes me giggle to see someone doing something she so clearly loves and feels lucky to be doing.

Watching Ani tonight inspired me. How great would it be to have so much awesome in your life that that sometimes, maybe even often, the happiness bubbles up and makes you laugh out loud? And that the happy makes you grateful and the grateful makes you happy and it's just one big circle of creativity and contentment and, well, awesome?

Everyone clicked through and read the lulu manifesto the other day, right? And you saw this part?

Nature wants us to be mediocre because we have a greater chance to survive and reproduce. Mediocre is as close to the bottom as it is to the top. Be creative. Do one thing a day that scares you.

Let yourself be inspired. Inspire others. Choose the awesome.

Does It Even Matter?

Hot and Wet in Central Park

Me, Aaron and Lisa after Saturday's race

More pics here, thanks to Melissa!

Run Your Race

Yesterday morning Lisa and I, along with our co-worker Aaron (who, incidentally totally cracks me up and who is LEAVING in 2 weeks to go get married and then roam around South America and then move to Oregon after which I will never see him again and this fact is causing me a tremendous amount of stress lately), along with our cheerleaders Melissa & Jo, subwayed it up to Central Park for the Naples Park-to-Park 10k. You might have noticed that UFF has been rather devoid of training updates recently, and that's pretty much because training hasn't been going awesomely. I haven't run 10M yet this season, and I've been whining about the heat and making excuses for not sucking it up and getting out there more. After yesterday, that's all going to change.

The race consisted of one counter-clockwise loop of Central Park, starting and ending at 102nd St. Aaron & Lisa & I started out running together. Aaron and I were running beside each other and as we approached Harlem Hill, a guy in a blue shirt asked us how we know each other. The conversation was headed toward being a race-day pickup (no, I'm not flattering myself, Lisa can confirm) with such genius lines as, "You look like a runner." Really? Wow! You mean wearing these running clothes, and running, and surrounded by 10,000 other runners? How flattering!

Aaron pulled ahead at that point and Lisa & I managed to lose Blue Shirt Guy to continue on our merry way. It was a very warm morning, and while I ran the first mile in decent time (considering it included Harlem Hill), I slowed down a bit after that, and when I checked my time at the Mile 4 marker I was not on track to meet my <1 hour (or at least, <10 minute mile) goal.

Something really good happened to me at that point, which is that I relaxed into it. This concept is kind of tough to describe. Last summer when I first did runs longer than 9 or 10M - that is, when I'd be running for longer than 1 1/2 hours, I learned that I needed to settle into the run, and just be present in that moment. In a shorter run, it's OK to get distracted thinking about the next rest station or hill or what's for breakfast afterwards, but in a longer run, more focus needs to be on what's happening right now - taking stock of how I feel in my body and my breath, how strong I feel mentally, etc. When I'm able to find that spot, my body relaxes and I'm much more comfortable running. I found it yesterday, and I'm sure that's what gave me the ability to push myself in the last third of the race, and finish strong in 1:02:39.

Last night when a friend asked me how I was doing vis-à-vis the stuff that's going on in my life, I happily realized that I might finally have found some of that relaxing into my life, the way I find it in running. Here's where I am, right now, and being aware of what's going on in this moment will allow me to make appropriate adjustments to my pace and posture so that I can keep going strong.

I <3 lulu

lululemon's manifesto inspires me.

Taijitu Cat

Yin Yang
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Important Survey

Just A Girl

At my first job, there were a few women in the office who discussed their hairstyles excessively. It really pissed me off, because I took my job Very Seriously, and didn't want my cred to be undermined by members of my gender discussing their follicular stylings.

Later, when I moved to California, I worked with a woman (for whom I had the utmost professional respect) who had a seriously great haircut. I was new to the area and needed a hairdresser, and fretted for a while about whether, and how, to ask her about her stylist. Finally I said, "Hey, Jen, I have something kind of girly to ask you." She replied, "That's OK, we're girls!"

Good point, Jen.

I've had an ongoing struggle with my own feminity (read: girliness), which has only recently - i.e., in the past two years - come more naturally. I used to fight it tooth and nail - any gender-specific definition or role or stereotype. My friends would crack up at this, and ask me such questions as, "Between you and DLang, who does the cooking?" to which I'd answer, "Well, I do, but that's because I LIKE cooking, not because I'm a girl." Which is true, but it does also happen to fit a certain gender stereotype.

This morning, Lisa told me about a friend who's visiting for the weekend who had already seen fit to make judgy comments about things she deemed girly, in particular, Lisa's application of mascara and quantity of shoes.

L: gillian i have 10 pairs of shoes and all are pivotal
L: 2 running, 1 cleat, 1 your bike shoes
G: I have no judgments if you have 100 pairs of shoes
G: and wear so much makeup that people think you're a whore.
L: birks, those new wanna be birk clogs, brown flip flops, black flip flops
L: thats why I love you most!
L: i was like - well I love flip flips- but I need them in brown and black to match
G: Plus, $2!
L: and she's like "wow, you're such a girl"- in an offensive way! meant to offend!
G: You should have said, yeah, you should see my vagina!
G: It's TOTALLY girly!
L: hahahahahahaha YCMU

In all honesty, mascara is one of my favourite things (and as DLang can confirm, I even listed it as one of the top three things that I can't live without on my online dating profile) and while being a boy certainly wouldn't prevent me from breaking out the Great Lash, it's a plus that it's something that was socially acceptable for my mom to show me how to apply. And having lots of shoes is actually really fun, especially the impractical ones (like these excellent Converse I bought a couple of months ago).

I still hate stereotypes and part of my brain is still screaming, "Anyone can have lots of shoes! Lots of guys have more shoes than I do!" but, hey, so what if it is a girly thing? Like Jen pointed out, I *am* a girl. Which not only means that I cry too easily sometimes and have more difficulty peeing in the woods than my penis-enabled peers, but also that I am comfortable hugging people, get to wear pretty dresses, and get flowers on my birthday.

And, I have boobies that are ALL MINE that I can play with whenever I want, which is way more useful than conveniently peeing in the woods.

Don't Make Me SPAM You

It's already July (how did that happen?), and in less than 4 months, I'll run the NYC Marathon. A few weeks before that, I'll be in SF to run the half at the Nike Women's Marathon (the very race at which I popped my 26.2 cherry last year).

And now, as I mentioned back in April, it's time for me to raise some fundage for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Loyal UFF readers, I implore you: Surely if I can run a combined total of 39.3 miles in two races for this excellent organization, you can throw a little money at the cause? Just think, the more generously you give, the less guilty you will have to feel when you think of me running around Brooklyn on Saturday mornings.

Give here. Or here. Give early and often. Maybe, just maybe, I'll post sweaty post-workout pictures.

Only if you ask nicely, though.

Netflix for Readers?

I read about Bookswim this morning on DailyCandy and I was all gung ho to try it out until I noted the monthly fees. I'm lucky if I can get through a book or two every month, and I usually spend around $10/book (used) on Amazon.com, including shipping. Bookswim is charging $23.99 per month to have 3 books at a time at home, so say I read 6 books every 3 months, that's around $12 more than I'd spend to actually buy the books (used). Details here. I'll be curious to see how well they do.

Love Me Do

Once every few months, when I find myself even more in love with the world than usual, I have a little exercise that I do when I ride the subway. I choose a person at random and imagine that I'm someone who just adores that person, and I list all the reasons that I love him or her. I think of it as a love letter to that person. Sometimes the reasons are things that I can observe, like particularly delicate wrists, or a quickness with the crossword puzzle, or a gentleness with an old person or a child. Sometimes I make things up completely, like how sweet she looks first thing in the morning, or how kind he is to my kids. It's easy once I get started, and I find myself noticing (and creating) wonderful things about complete strangers - not a bad way to start (or end) one's day!

I recently started to think about what I'd want someone to think or say if I were the subject of this exercise. That struck me as kind of a neat thing to wonder about, and I'm kind of surprised that I haven't wondered about it before - that is, for what reasons do I want to be loved? And, how do I want to be loved?

Every so often a friend will do something or even tell me something about him- or herself and I'll think, wow, I love you for that. I love you because you can't stand having your hands get wet when you run. I love you because you smell your shampoo every morning, even though it's the same shampoo you've been using for months and months. I love you because you use the same expressions my parents used when I was growing up. I love you because you act out stories as you tell them. I love you because you use regular expressions in IM.

I haven't come up with definitive answers for the questions of why and how I want to be loved, but I think that the more I can love the people around me, the clearer those will become. For now, I'll just keep practicing.

Waiting For 2 1/2 Hours To Cross The Border Will Do This To You

La Fête du Canada!

P.S. I would lose a LOT of Patriot Points (TM Lisa) if I didn't wish you a Happy Canada Day!

Trivia: What are a Canadian's two favourite colours?

Post your answer in the comments. First correct response wins a box of Kraft Dinner!

Drive My Car

DLang and I just returned from a roadtrip to Montréal, where we attended his friend Isaac's wedding. I'm not sure how it is that spending 18+ hours in a car inspires the heck out of me, but for all the cramped-legs traffic-jammed gas-guzzling environmental unfriendliness, I'll take it. I have so much to share and create that I might burst! Sadly however, I also have a sore throat (maybe from all that singing along to songs on the radio?) which mandates bedtime at a reasonable hour. Just wanted to give you guys something to look forward to, 'cause I know it's been slow around here.

Check back early and often for updates this week. I promise them to you. Absolutely.

Colour Blind

Dear Diary:

I did a lot of fun stuff this past weekend:

1. I went on a concert cruise with Brianna & Lisa. We saw a Canadian band call The Weakerthans who have a song called "I Hate Winnipeg," which is hilare. Good times were had by all.

2. I went to Coney Island's annual Mermaid Parade (crazily enough, if you Google "mermaid parade" the second image result is my beautiful friend Monica, when she attended the parade in 2004). I saw some nice boobies!

3. We had a rooftop BBQ Chez DLang to celebrate my birthday. Living as long as Christ is apparently the last major birthday milestone until I start getting seniors' discounts at Kmart. The weather was perfect and the delicious chocolate cake (from the Bakery Formerly Known As Two Little Red Hens) had a big orange G on it!

4. I went to Kari's birthday brunch at Miriam and enjoyed my first Shakshuka (Marc, I'm expecting a comment for that link).

5. I baked a wedding cake redux/anniversary cake, and delivered it to my old 'hood, where I then enjoyed a delicious dosa.

6. I decided that Keith Mars is catching up with Sandy Cohen as my fantasy dad.

After all that, this is still all I can muster as a blog post. Thank god for RSS, or you guys would be outta here.

Suckers.

Not Young Enough To Know Everything

When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.
-Mark Twain

Bacon Redux

Turns out Mike's request for an ode to strip bacon was a contest of sorts. Mike has chosen a winner, and it wasn't me. The newly-crowned bacon poet laureate is Mike's friend Jeh, who isn't yet my friend but should be because the man can write, and he truly loves the pig.

Behold this stanza of genius:

O strip of bacon,
you the king of the snacka.
A condiment and a meal,
a sidekick and a hero, like the mighty Chewbacca.

You can read the whole brilliant composition here.

It's My Birthday Too--Yeah!

Not ONLY does today mark the start of my 34th year on this remarkable planet, it's also the first day of Summer (officially at 18:06 GMT) AND Recess At Work Day! (via the Freakonomics blog/DC Dave)

Conveniently, I'd been celebrating Recess At Work Day all morning, before I even knew it was today.

Recharge

First Time's Free

In case you're behind in your blogroll, please take note of Miss Brianna's recent intarweb fame. A couple of sites linked to her rant about United Airlines (with whom, incidentally, I flew last Friday night without incident). Linking to her blog is all the rage. Everyone's doing it!

Well, friends, Bri isn't the only celebrity around here! In a shining example of the power of the internets, after my recent brush with death a dude who writes a firefighting blog Flickr-mailed me to find out if he could use one of my awesome pictures on his site. And recently, Mike had nothing better to do and threw me a link.

The hits just keep on coming.

The Older I Get

Dear Nerds,

I love you guys, really I do. I've spent my whole life with you, and I think your brains are hot. Here's the thing, though. When I don't work with you, I can't see how clean your code is, or how fast you fix bugs, or watch you brainstorm algorithms on a whiteboard, so you have to give me something else to go on in a social setting. Wear a cool t-shirt that I can comment on (maybe one that you didn't get on Think Geek), smile when I walk by, if I say "hi" say something back, anything. [Side note to WWDC organizers: How about you help us out here and put conference attendees' company locations on our badges? I can show genuine interest in almost anywhere in the world, but the whole "So, where are you from?" lead-in sounds so contrived and also a lot like "Come here often?" which, no.]

Guys, I'm not trying to pick you up, and odds are I don't want to sleep with you. I'm a friendly girl and I like you, really I do. Even you, guy who when I offered to move so that all of your friends could sit at the same table, said "OK, yeah, get out of here," (but I might like you a little less). I like you guys who got really excited when you found a redraw bug in Leopard (and insisted on reproducing it several times and showing me). In fact, when I later attended a session in which The Curt did a demo, I felt a little like Wanda in "A Fish Called Wanda" when Otto speaks Italian to her. Can you feel the love?

I made a big effort last night at the bash to talk to you. I smiled at you! I even tried to play a fun party game (Would you rather only eat eggs--prepared any way you like, but with only salt & pepper as seasonings--with no adverse health effects, and live for the next 50 years, or only live for 15 more years and eat whatever you want?) and got very little in return. I will laugh at your jokes. Try me. I'm interested in your work, especially if *you're* interested in it - a little enthusiasm goes a long way. You can keep the sarcasm, thanks - I just want to have a friendly conversation. Just give me an in.

Love,
Gillian

Where The Heart Is

Bloggerrific Highlights

Some of the blogs I read have had particularly excellent posts this week. Here are some of the reads that had me giggling:

• Brianna partied with some Swedes: This conference sounds kind of boring, it’s like: børk børk programming, børk børk technology, børk børk gross chocolate mouse that we’re calling cake just to piss people off. We should spice things up.
  
  
• Lisa moved into a new apartment: There were 2 small plates, 8 wine glasses, and 5 shot glasses. And a colander. That is the exact opposite of "just the basics"!
  
  
• Jim ran with the cows of Owensville, Missouri: I tightened my laces and looked over the herd, they looked ready to do business. The business consisted of eating grass and producing methane gas.
  
  
• Griffin wanted to shave: Griffin feels his face which is covered in dried-on cookie dough. "I all prickly! Mommy, I older? I need to shave?"
  
  
• Garth hated on Vista: I close it and it tells me it's not responding (duh!) and that I should wait while Windows tries to figure out what's wrong. Unless it's planning on formatting my drive and reinstalling with XP, it won't ever figure it out.
  
  
• Mike chose the Seven Wonders of Canada: 6. Old Quebec City (Apart from the fact that most Quebeckers probably resent this choice, it's not bad.)

My Point of View

I've been digging the HSBC "Your Point of View" ad campaign for a while, especially the print ads which are in airports everywhere. An exceptionally thought-provoking exercise in a recent therapy session inspired me to create my own series of these ads, for me, based on my own often conflicting points-of-view about the same idea.

Here's the first in the series; let me know what you think!

The House Is On Fire

The last two weekends I've shown complete disregard for my Saturday morning training schedule by staying out all hours on Friday night. Last night, however, I vowed to get serious about training and go to bed at a reasonable hour. My social activities were limited to dinner with Jillian with a J and going to a play that ended at the very reasonable hour of 10 p.m. I was home by 10:30, and tucked in by about 11:15, not to mention mentally prepared to run the prescribed 8.4 miles on Saturday morning.

I fed Memphis right before bed, and vaguely recall her starting to pester me again when I heard sirens and saw red emergency vehicle lights outside my window. The BP* is located on the side of the building, so I don't have a view onto the street - I could just see the glow of the lights, and hear some action outside. I kind of ignored it for a while, then thought it sounded pretty close to home, so I threw on shorts and a t-shirt, and made the executive decision to phone DLang (2:30 a.m. logic: If my run is going to be wrecked tomorrow, his can be too!). I started to tell him that I thought something was going on, and gave him the play-by-play of my observations (flashlights in the backyard, someone thumping around on the roof). When I heard someone outside my apartment, I told him I'd call him back.

Seconds later there was a knock on the door, and I opened it to find a member of FDNY's finest! Now, I've had my fair share of fantasies involving a firefighter on my doorstep, however, none of them ACTUALLY involved fire. The hallway was quite smoky and I wondered, if I passed out, would he have to carry me downstairs? Because that would be awesome. Unfortunately my flirting capabilities were constrained by the thought that my apartment building might really be on fire, so instead of asking him if he'd like to come in for a glass of wine, I only managed to ask if I needed to leave the apartment. He said the CO levels were high and that that would be a good idea.

Moment of self-discovery: When my apartment is on fire my hands are really shaky, which means you shouldn't ask me to hold your martini.

I called DLang back to tell him we were coming over, then herded Memphis into her carry case, grabbed her litter box, my computer (I'm going to WWDC in SF next week, and my Mac is my only cred, yo), clothes for running, and headed out. On the way downstairs I passed about a dozen other firemen (note to self: try for more specific visualization in fantasies - i.e., firemen but NO FIRE), one of whom asked me if I have a CO detector in the apartment. Truth is, I don't know. There's definitely a smoke detector, but I don't know if it's dual-purpose, so I said no. He said, "Oh, you get a spanking for that." Well, hello Mr. Fireman! Now you're talking!

Once outside, I stopped to take a couple of pictures - unfortunately the best one just looks like there are a bunch of ghosts outside the apartment. (Next time I'm going to take some selfies with the men in uniform - I'm sure they'd be flattered, right?)

The moral of this story? I should continue party it up on Friday nights, because if I go to bed early there will just be a fire and I'll end up sleep-deprived and sucking at my run, anyway.

*Bachelorette Pad

An Ode to Strip Bacon

This morning I received email from my friend Mike, who is currently on a big sailing trip somewhere between here and Tahiti.

Gill -

Quick. "An Ode to Strip Bacon".

Help an addict out during his last week at sea.

Hope you are well,
xo
Mike

I replied:

Streaks of red and white
Salty, crispy, slightly sweet:
Pigs are delicious.

This Just In

According to the vet, Memphis' tests were "beautiful" - in other words, there is nothing wrong with her. Except that she lost 28% of her body weight in a few months.

Next steps: Check for GI problems, including - get ready! - parasites.

Grody.

Reality Bytes

I was at a party on Friday night at which I stayed until the wee hours of the morning. I must confess: While I am a relatively social person, and often enjoy hosting parties, there are party situations in which I feel somewhat uncomfortable (and uncool). I kind of expected that to happen on Friday, and was pleasantly surprised when it didn't -- in fact, when LL (with whom I'd come to the party) leaned over at one point and said, "Hey G, it's quarter to 4, just so you know," I actually wanted to stay longer.

As the crowd waned, we ended up as 5 or 6 people in different stages of inebriation sitting out on the roof pondering the mysteries of life. A few interesting topics surfaced, one of which was fear of heights. A few people were, in fact, afraid of heights, and the general speculation was that it's because when they get to an edge, they think about how easy it would be to (voluntarily) step off. That led to a bigger conversation about altering your own reality, and the various ways in which you could drastically change the life that you've created over 20- or 30-some years, within, in some cases, a matter of seconds. And not even necessarily by doing something superextreme, but, for example, by saying something completely ridiculous in a meeting (for reasons beyond my comprehension, the example "I have a purple penis!" was used) - the idea that an impulse might pop into your head and that you don't do anything about it, but think, "oh my god I totally could do/say that and what if I did?" and probably even more, "what's actually keeping me from doing/saying it, and is that thing trustworthy?"

Like I do with practically everything these days, I spent some time thinking about how this relates to my current sitch with DLang, and how we got we got to the reality that is so different from the one we had last year at this time. I didn't come up with anything profound, except that maybe it wasn't one big outbursty impulse that led us where we are now, but maybe more about things that weren't said - which might have made the consequences less identifiable.

In this week's Get Naked, Jamie Bufalino advises, "The idea is to live authentically--that means having the balls to not gloss over your flaws. After all, you want someone to love you, and not just the facade you’ve cleverly cultivated over the years." Reread that, OK? Because it's awesome. That reminded me of a recent conversation about secrets and anxiety, and I think a lot of what happened in the past year has to do with me *not* talking about important things - behaviour which, it turns out, can be as reality-altering as the impulsive blurt.

Showing Her Age

Last year when I took Memphis for her yearly check-up she weighed 17.6 lbs. That is pretty close to her peak, and per the vet, unhealthily high. In an attempt to facilitate feline weight loss (no small feat - just ask Sars and "Little" Joe), we cut her portion sizes down from 1 5.5oz can of food/day to 2/3 of a can. It didn't seen to bother her too much, and a couple of months ago I thought, wow, this is finally working! She is one svelte kitty.

More recently, though, I thought she seemed a little too skinny, and last weekend I finally hopped on the scale with her. She weighed in at 12.6 lbs. YIKES. I already had an appointment scheduled for today for her regular visit (as well as to check out that thing on her nose), and on Tuesday I called to move it up a few days.

The vet took blood and urine samples (it is really hard to get a cat to pee in the little cup, let me tell you!) and we'll get the results on Monday. In all likelihood, Miss Memphis has hyperthyroidism. The good news: It's common, and treatable. Our options will probably be either a drug regime (2 pills/day for the rest of her life), or radioactive iodine treatment. The former would cost ~$350/year, and since she's going to live FOREVER, that just isn't feasible, so I'm leaning toward the latter (which would entail her spending 7-10 days in the hospital and will cost ~$3k, but will be a permanent cure).

The good news in all of this is, it could explain a lot of her food anxiety, and might quell her 4 a.m. "I'm hungry and this is an emergency WAKE UP NOW MOM" urges. It's pretty sad that my BFF with her NEWBORN BABY is getting more sleep than I am with my cat.

P.S. She didn't really have to pee in a cup. CATURDAY TRIVIA: To take a urine sample from a cat, the vet inserts a needle directly into her bladder. And now you know.

Dinner Dilemma

Do I eat the last 6 stems of asparagus from last week's Fresh Direct order, or do I eat some of the fresh new stalks that I bought at the green market on Saturday?


(Above: The basics: Olive oil, sea salt, ground pepper and Parmigiano Regiano)

Anniversary

One year ago yesterday DLang and I got hitched at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Our family and friends joined us afterward at the Brooklyn Society for Ethical Culture for pancakes (with real Canadian maple syrup, of course), eggs, and TimBits. Then a bunch of us headed down to Coney Island to ride the Cyclone and eat Nathan's hot dogs on the boardwalk.

It was an amazing day.

The year that followed has been a lot like that ride on the Cyclone. We've had crazy good ups, and have caught our stomachs in our throats during the high-speed and often unpredictable plummets. Neither of us knows exactly where we're going, or what peak or valley is around the next turn.

I commented to a friend the other day that it's hard to be in this state of transition and impermanence, and he said, "You know, that's all of us, all the time."

Yesterday, DLang and I returned to Coney Island to walk on the boardwalk and eat ice cream and play Skee Ball - and, yes, ride the Cyclone. And even though it's a rough ride, I couldn't imagine having anyone else by my side.

Happy Anniversary, D.

90 Degrees in the Shade

Too Hot
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

It's a hot hot Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend, just like last year when DLang and I tied the knot. Memphis is trying to keep cool by napping. Note that that is also her strategy for keeping warm.

Goals: Week 3

OK, so this goals stuff isn't going so well. However, I feel like I got a lot done this week, so maybe I just need to be smarter about what I'm writing down!

Training Update:

At least training is going well! I ran 4 days this week for a total of 15 miles (including one run to work!).

Goals for Week of May 21:

1. FINISH THAT DAMN CD!

2. Run 15 miles.

3. Do yoga at least once.

4. Bring lunch to work at least 3 days.

5. Write a letter.

6. Clean the bathroom of the BP.

7. Start weight-loss regime (separate post about this to follow).

8. Write at least one more meaningful, less what-I-had-for-lunch blog post.

Not Memphis

Kiki
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Yesterday I visited my friends A & B (and their sweet sweet baby Daphne) in NJ. This is one of their cats, and this week's UFF Caturday honouree, Kiki.

Book Networks Redux

One of my best-read friends recommended Goodreads (and they seemed to have fixed the error I blogged about previously), so I'm going with them for now. You can find me here.

Gillian Likes To

I know memes are to real writers what Sandra Lee's "cooking" is to real chefs, however, this one was too hilare to pass up.

Instructions: Google "[yournamehere] likes to" (keep the quotes!) and note the top 10 results.

1. Dr Gillian likes to call them ‘essential thinny acids’ and that is why she refers to hemp as ‘the weight loss seed’.
2. Gillian likes to watch movies and play games.
3. Gillian likes to Pout.
4. Gillian likes to examine the poop best in a tupperware sandwich box! [Gillian is cracking up over here.]
5. Gillian likes to grab her feet almost as mu ch as. she likes to grab a barga i n . [Gillian can't explain the extra spaces.]
6. gillian likes to be called gill or gilly or gillybean
7. Gillian likes to walk about - we go for walks often. ... In her spare time, Gillian likes to have tea and scones (well, I'm sure she would if she liked tea) ...
8. Gillian likes to ice ski
9. Gillian likes to unwind here from the hustle and bustle of busy city living.
10. Gillian likes to immerse herself in her photography at all times and is a member of the Welshpool camera club where she has won various prizes for her landscape and macro work.

P.S. Sometimes Googling your own name is downright freaky.

Good To Know

"I think part of why people get so anxious is that we keep so many secrets. Then we feel shameful about things, and worried that people are going to judge us --"

"When really, most people don't give a fuck about anyone besides themselves."

"Exactly! And your friends are your friends, right? Really, what would a friend have to do to make you not be their friend? Like, maybe kill someone?"

"Even then..."

"Yeah. True."

Goals: Week 2

The results are in - I completed 4 of last week's 10 goals, and partially completed 2 others (I brought lunch to work twice, and ran 8 miles).

Training Update:

Our first Group Training Session (GTS) was yesterday morning. I stuck with the intermediate/advanced group, and we ran about 4 miles with a few stops for cross training (things like squats & lunges) along the way. This morning I ran the New York Junior League's Mother's Day 4M, and finished in 41:18 (a 10:19 mile) - not bad considering how out-of-shape I feel! This evening my muscles are satisfyingly sore, and I'm excited that training has resumed.

Goals for Week of May 14:

NOT DONE 1. Finish mix CD for Bri & Ali.

DONE 2. Brush Memphis.

DONE 3. Run 10 miles.

NOT DONE 4. Write a letter.

NOT DONE 5. Do not spend money on food for at least 3 days.

NOT DONE 6. Do yoga at least once.

NOT DONE 7. Clean the bathroom of the BP.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to my own Mom, who has taught me how to do so many things, including but not limited to, crocheting, baking, graciously hosting a dinner party for 12, walking in heels, and mixing a decent martini. She also passed along her strong chin and shapely legs, for which I'm grateful. Thanks, Mom - you rock.

Happy Mother's Day to my godmother, Sunny, who taught me (and continues to teach me) about emotional, physical, and spiritual health. At one point she also tried to teach me how to not throw like a girl - hopefully she had more success with the health stuff. She's also the best dog whisperer you'll ever meet.

Happy Mother's Day to Pam, Sunny's partner, who in addition to having a wryly hilarious comment for pretty much every situation, is one of the most generous people I know. She's also Sunny's only link to cyberspace, and recently sent me email that said, Sunny would like to know how to connect to your "blogs"......please write soon - so they might even read this!

Happy Mother's Day to DLang's Mom, Sally, who knows pretty much everything about houseplants (and can teach you a thing or two about nursing, too). It's wonderful to have her in the 'hood!

Happy Mother's Day to DLang's Stepmom, Nancy, who has the awesomest cookbook collection I've ever seen, and will talk to me for hours about food and cats (two of my favourite subjects)!

Happy Mother's Day to new mom Sirrah!, of whom I am constantly in awe. How does she do it?

Happy Mother's Day to Griffin's Mom (and regular UFF reader) Candace, who inspires me to live with honesty and integrity (and doesn't judge me when I don't).

And finally, Happy Mother's Day to all current and future moms, and even to all of you like me who aren't sure but still nurture yourselves and others - like any good mom would.

10 Years!

Sunbathing
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

For as long as I can remember, I wanted a cat. My mom didn't like the hair, so we had poodles instead - but I coveted creatures of the feline persuasion. I collected All Things Cat: stuffed, ceramic, sticky - anything I could get my hands on. Finally, in 1997, having recently graduated and started my first Real Job, I decided it was time to adopt a kitty. My then-boyfriend Greg had friends outside Ottawa (where we lived at the time) whose cat had recently had kittens, and he arranged for me to have one. I didn't care if I got male or female - I just wanted the orange one.

On the eve of Mother's Day at around 8 p.m., I drove out to the McDonald's on Carling Ave. to meet a man with a cardboard box in the trunk of his car containing a tiny orange kitten who fit in the palm of my hand. She came with a can of cat food and a note telling me that her birthday was April 1 and that they'd been calling her "Morris." As we'd recently visited Graceland, Greg & I decided on the name Memphis. She also goes by Mempher, Memipher, Memiflower, Memphy, Furball, The Furb, FOP (Furry Orange Pussy), as well as myriad variations on "Kitty LaRoux" (see: Purry LaRoux, Pesky LaRoux) and has been called the "Softest Cat in the World" on more than one occasion.

And, despite moments of wanting to throw her out the window, I think I'll keep her around.

Canadianisms Part 4: The Drinking Game

Two-four: A case (24 bottles) of beer. "Do you guys need us to bring anything to the party tonight?" "Nope - we picked up a few two-fours this afternoon, so I think we're set!"

Rye: Rye whiskey. Bourbon is a good substitute in the U.S. I found this one out in a bar in San Jose, when I ordered a "rye and Coke" and received a blank stare.

Mickey: A 13-oz. bottle of alcohol (in the U.S., known as a fifth). In researching this particular Canadianism I found An American's Guide to Canada which basically renders the Canadianisms series on UFF obsolete, but, whatever. I know you'll be back, even if I am just rewriting content that exists elsewhere on the interwebs.

Pissed: Drunk. "They showed up with a two-four, but I was already pissed after drinking that mickey of rye." (Thanks to MFD for telling me about this one - it's a recent discovery.)

Give 'er: I would have defined this as "Step on it!" but a Google of the phrase gives me this rather crude definition:

To party as hard as possible and let nothing get in your way. Comes straight from Canada and indirectly Fubar [the movie, which is also Canadian, and about which I also learned tonight!].

Canadian #1: "Theres a party at Johnny's tonite..."
Canadian #2: Well, we best fuckin' give'er, eh"
Canadian #1: "Fo' shizzle, lets get some beer"

(Please note that thanks to K-Dog I LOVE the expression "fo' shizzle," even though it totally isn't Canadian.)

Happy Birthday Bro!

It's Garth's birthday today! That means I've known the kid for 31 years (which, doesn't make him much of a kid anymore, I guess). Funny how a 2 year age difference is so much more significant when you're 6 and 4.

Now head on over to Facebook and write a birthday message on his wall -- if you can figure out how to do that.

Goals: Week 1

Marathon training starts next weekend (hooray!) and I thought that Sunday evening might be a good time to update UFF with my progress. I also thought I'd share my weekly non-training goals as well! As DC Dave would say, I'm a giver.

Inspired by Billiam, here, then, are this week's to-dos:

DONE 1. Put up new shelf. I consider affixing things securely to walls to be one of my superpowers, and this wall is my kryptonite. I've tried using regular plastic anchors (denied) and then with a toggle bolt. I believe the screw was too short (that's what she said) because on the first try, the entire mechanism fell into the wall, and on the second try, I had to hold the head of the screw with pliers and even then couldn't get it in far enough to get the toggle to grip. (That all sounds incredibly dirty.) I just found this handy site in case you're interested in more information about wall anchors.

NOT DONE 2. Bring my lunch to work (at least 4 times). I went to the greenmarket on Saturday and have a FreshDirect order arriving tomorrow morning, so I have the raw materials. In fact, I'd like to up this to not buying any food during the day for at least 3 days. After all, I just spent $60 on spoons.

DONE 3. Wash the floor of the Bachelorette Pad.

NOT DONE 4. Brush Memphis.

DONE 5. Repot the herbs (and tomato plant) I bought at the greenmarket.

NOT DONE 6. Update Quicken. (I will procrastinate the hell out of this one.)

NOT DONE 7. Write a real, honest-to-god letter (lucky recipient TBD).

DONE 8. Figure out Mother's Day gifts and such.

NOT DONE 9. Run the Prospect Park loop at least 3 times.

NOT DONE 10. Finish the mix CD for Ali & Bri.

Happy Birthday Little Lisa!

Today is Lisa's birthday! You still have an hour and 17 minutes to head over to her blog and wish her happy happy. Go! Now!

My Baby

Catnap
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Retail Therapy

Earlier this week I saw these Bird Measuring Spoons on Delight.com. I looked at them longingly for a few minutes then surfed away, reasoning that it would be entirely unreasonable to spend $60 (with discounts and such) on a set of measuring spoons.

Later that day, I clicked back over and bought the spoons. They arrived today, and I honestly wish I'd bought 3 more sets because they are SO BEAUTIFUL, and I know that Sirrah! (among others) would also adore them.

Late-Night Blogging Gets Serious

I recently read that my generation's feminist mothers told us that we could have anything, and that we interpreted it as, we have to have everything.

Now, 10 years into both my career and my child-bearing years, that sentiment resonates strongly with me. I've been in my current job for just over four years and my current relationship for almost six, and I often feel as though I don't have any more clarity on What I Want To Be When I Grow Up than I did in 1997 when I graduated from university. I've been convinced that my life could (and would) take almost every turn imaginable. In high school I was sure that I'd get married but not breed. Then, for many years, I vowed not to take vows (but thought that kids might be OK, or at least that I might have a baby as a surrogate mother).

Since an enlightening conversation with Sunny on our trip to P.E.I. in 2003, I've been more sure that I wanted to have children - at least 2, maybe 3. Last year DLang and I took what could reasonably have been viewed as the next step toward such an endeavour: the nuptials. Our one-year anniversary is only three weeks away, and let's just say we've had a rather rough go of it. So rough, in fact, that I recently moved into my own apartment to give our relationship a bit of space. [File this entry under "humility."] I don't know if it was the right thing to do, but we're talking and seeing each other regularly and are probably closer than we've ever been, which, if nothing else, bodes well for our growth as individuals.

What, then, of my biological clock?

Last week's foray into motherhood, as peripheral as it was, led me to a number of "conclusions." Charlie was born on Saturday and came home on Sunday, and by Tuesday I'd decided, "Wow, I am so not ready for this. At all." It was kind of a relief (the clock had been ticking loudly). However, by the time I returned to NY, I felt panicky all over again at my own uncertainty and lack of a plan (many of the same feelings that led me into therapy two years ago).

In the past year, some of my closest friends with kids have told me that having children was the best thing they've ever done. (In fact, that's what Sunny said in P.E.I.) One said that it was the *most* important. At times I've thought about those superlatives and equated the possibility of not having children as meaning that there won't be a "best" or "most important" thing I'll ever do. Thinking like that, sucks. It fuels the fire of anxiety, and only serves to minimize the contributions I make with my life now. For example, would I have time to bring you the plethora of good times that is UFF if I had to look after an infant? Count your blessings, dear reader(s).

I suppose this entry is partly a confessional (since I've been skirting the whole moving-out thing for two months, and it's getting tiresome - plus I really want to post pictures of my cute new apartment) and partly a reminder to myself to honour and respect my life as it is, today.

Cuts Both Ways

DLang and Little Lisa went for a run tonight. Later, we discussed.

"Do you realize that you are exactly twice Little Lisa's age?"

"Well, not exactly, I mean, she's about to turn twen--"

"I know but right now she's 19! And you're 38!"

"Huh." [Translation: I don't like to know that it is possible for a fully-formed adult human being to be half my age.]

"Isn't that crazy?"

"Yeah, it is kind of crazy. If I were really irresponsible, I could actually be her father."

"Or her boyfriend!"

[Long pause.] "Yeah, that would be pretty irresponsible."

Home Again Home Again

When I walked in the door last night, Memphis was lounging on the couch. She immediately got up, mewed, and ran over onto a chair near where I was standing. When I picked her up, she sniffed my face all over and rubbed her head up against me. It was awesome.

I have to say, though, I miss the night shift and holding the lovely-smelling baby Charlie. And my family in Waterloo. I can't yet articulate what a profound effect the past week had on me. I'll give it a try someday soon. For now, look at this picture and try to get your hands (or at least your nose) on some baby lotion.

Notes On The Bean

- Some people make good coffee. Some people (like me) don't. Because of my fear of making coffee that is too weak, I usually make coffee that is too strong. DLang makes good coffee. Sara says her dad makes good coffee. The good vs. bad coffee-making is mysterious to me, because it's just a proportion of water to coffee, kind of like baking, which I'm good at!

- In Canada, ordering your coffee "regular" means with cream and sugar. "Double-double" means double-cream and double-sugar.

- Some Starbucks call skim milk "skim," others call it "non-fat." I think it's regional, and I was surprised to hear it called "non-fat" here in Waterloo (because I've always referred to it as "skim").

- Yesterday morning I made coffee and didn't close the lid on the coffee pot properly before I started the machine. When I got out of the shower the entire counter was covered in coffee. Oops.

You Know You're Old When...

Last night I talked to my almost-76-year-old godmother, Sunny.

"You sound tired, Sunny."

"Oh, I'm always tired in the evening. I doze off now and then, just like an old person."

"That's OK. You are an old person!"

"I know I am. And do you know how I know?"

"How?"

"I have a rubber band around my address book."

So Happy

This afternoon I took Bartleby for a walk and to return a movie. There had been a thunderstorm earlier in the day and the air smelled fresh and rainy. At one point while I was walking I heard a pretty loud rustle across the street. I looked, and saw a cardinal with a piece of plastic in her beak, hopping into a bush.

At that moment, I thought my heart would burst with happiness.

Overheard

"Nope, bud, you can't just be on the boob if you're not working."

"Ah, Charlie, how many times have I heard that before."

Charles Franklyn Cummer

Charlie
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

The family's home now. Order has been restored: Sara, Charlie & Bartleby are napping and Greg & I are drinking.

More photos will be added frequently in Charlie's Photo Set.

Charlie!

Charlie was born yesterday at 6:38 p.m., weighing in at a rather hefty 8lbs 7oz (I only say hefty because Sirrah! barely looked 8 months pregnant at the very end). The Amazing Race was a huge success - I arrived at the hospital just as Sirrah! was fully dilated and a few minutes before she started to push. She was a total rockstar, managing to not only stay pleasant, but look absolutely beautiful through the whole 16 hrs of labour. Charlie is incredibly sweet, with a mop of dark brown hair not unlike his papa's bedhead. Everyone is super healthy, and the whole family will be home later today.

I paparazzied it up with Greg's camera - pictures later. Right now I need a shower and a nap.

The Amazing Race Is On!

First, apologies to any of you with whom I have commitments (that includes you, work!) over the next 7 days. I'm going to be out of town, because SIRRAH! IS HAVING A BABY!

OK, to recap. I am currently at LaGuardia. DLang insisted on checking flight availabilities before I left for the airport, and advised that I'd have better luck with American than Air Canada. Good call. My all-time favourite car service, Arecibo, didn't answer their phone, so I had to unpack my computer to find other car services. On the way to the airport I phoned everyone I know and Sunny was the only person who answered. Where are you fuckers? My best friend is having a baby! I'll deal with you later. Anyway. I ran up to the AA counter and bought a one-way ticket on the next flight to Toronto, which leaves at 1:40 p.m. and which BETTER BE ON TIME because did I mention that Sirrah! is having a baby?

Sweet Sirrah - her voicemails this morning were so calm and nice and all, "I think I'm having contractions, but don't do anything yet, I'll call you in a bit." Damn! I can't believe I missed those calls. I did speak with Greg's dad, who confirmed that the doctor thinks Charlie's coming this afternoon. He could already be here! I've tried both sets of Charlie's grandparents since I arrived at the airport and there was no answer, so I assume they've all gone to the hospital.

Now I'm sitting at LGA Gate C1 IMPATIENTLY, but still happily noting that the weather's good, the flight's on time, I still have all my luggage with me, and the drive to Waterloo will probably be very pleasant, especially if I can avoid getting a $250 speeding ticket.

I forgot my camera so hopefully my detailed descriptions will suffice.

Car service to LGA: $37
One-way ticket to Toronto: $536
Airport food [Luna Bar, cheese, apple, large coffee]: $6.50
Intarweb access for blogging: $7.95
MY BEST FRIEND IS HAVING A BABY: Priceless, people.

I'm getting all choked up over here.

Charlie is ON THE WAY!

Sirrah! called at 5:24 this morning and I MISSED THE EFFING CALL AND DIDN'T LISTEN TO MESSAGES UNTIL NOW! I'm on my way to LaGuardia. Updates later.

Yin Yang

Close
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

Percy went home before we could get a family portrait. Maybe next time.

Later That Day...

Garth: and my keyboard seems to have reverted to french. ééééé argh
Garth: rebooting
Garth: effing vista
Gillian: hee hee
*** "Garth" signed off
*** "Garth" signed on
Garth: seems my french keyboard mapping was limited to msn
Garth: and closing/opening it fixed it
Garth: i hate computers
Gillian: Aw, no you don't!
Garth: if you blog that i will kill you

More on Facebook

Garth: What's up?
Gillian: I wanted to tell you about someone else on Facebook.
Gillian: :-)
Garth: oh goody (read your facebook blog post btw)
Gillian: :-)
Gillian: Guy From Elementary School!
Garth: ya, D told me. 2 kids. teacher. yada yada
Gillian: :-|
Gillian: I hate you.
Garth: :) i know
Gillian: I'm going to blog this chat.
Garth: i'm gonna have to find new IM software for talking to you on that encrypts the channel and disallows logging/copying. and expires my words moments after i say them so that they vanish from the screen.
Gillian: That'll be too late for this one!

Facebook

I'm kind of enamoured with Facebook right now. I've had an account on there for a while, but for the first several months my only friends were co-op students working at my company (and my mom, but let's not talk about that), which I'm sure made my profile look like I was some kind of internet predator. However, in the past month or two I've discovered that many of the people with whom I went to high school are on Facebook. Some of them have even joined the prestigious ranks of people who read UFF! Congratulations. You know who you are.

Anyway. Since reconnecting with several St. David Catholic Secondary School alum, conversations with Dos have gone like this:

Gillian: Hey! Do you remember Guy From High School?
Dos: Yes.
Gillian: Was he in your grade?
Dos: Yes.
Gillian: He's on Facebook!
Dos: I know. We're not friends.
Gillian: But you know him, right?
Dos: Yes.

The next day:
Gillian: Do you remember GFHS?
Dos: Yes! You asked me this yesterday.
Gillian: Oh. Well, I just can't believe all these people are on here! This is crazy!
Dos: I don't even know those people. I haven't talked to them in over 10 years.
Gillian: OK. Just because I added them as "friends" on Facebook does not mean that they're all coming over for dinner or something. Geez.

As for Facebook itself, I'm not sure what's up with the whole Groups thing - it seems marginally useful for finding people from a particular area, but there are approx. 63,000 groups, so I don't know how you even find the one you want. I think the concept of "poking" someone is weird, but that's probably because I'm over 30 and I only sent my first text message last year. And I can't figure out how to write on someone's wall if he or she hasn't already written on mine. Finally, and somewhat hilariously, tonight when I tried a search I received the following error:

Note to friends from high school: You're invited over for dinner next time you're in NYC. Just don't tell Garth.

It's That Time Again...

I kind of feel like it's pledge week on NPR (and let me tell you, I HATE pledge week on NPR).

I'm about to start training for the NYC Marathon in November, and before that, the half-marathon at the Nike Women's Marathon in SF. And I'm not doing all this running for the good of my health... Actually, I *am* running for the good of my health. More importantly though, I'm running for the health of people affected by blood (and other) cancers, and their families and friends who benefit from the services provided by the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. My fundraising site is all set up, ready for your generous dontaion. And I do mean generous.

This year, I'm fundraising for a half-marathon AND a full marathon. That's 39.3 miles, or 63.2 km! That is a lot of running, my friends. All you have to do to help the cause is click here and make a donation.

In the meantime, I'll try to keep the incessant nagging about donating to a minimum. Until we start those long runs in September, of course. Then you're going to hear about it.

Updates

1. The cats have been playing together! The last two evenings have seen a lot of running back and forth across the apartment. However, they are still far from being best buds. Memphis now tolerates Percy sleeping on the bed, but if he gets anywhere near her food bowl, God help him.

2. Due to the success of my email-a-photo post yesterday, my brother has joined the 21st century and started his very own blog, on which you can read about his life. What are Guinness and things that use Bluetooth, Alex?

3. Charlie is still in utero. Since I don't have to be reasonable, I decided to make the trip Amazing Race-style and head straight for the airport when Sirrah! calls me. Updates will be posted on UFF. For best results, check back early and often.

Jasper

Jasper
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.
After work this afternoon I took Jasper for a walk. Jasper's mom sent me email earlier today with very specific instructions about our outing.

"In the light blue Adidas bag hanging on the front closet door, you will find plastic bags and a round, red squeaky ball with feet. Jasper is obsessed with the squeaky ball and if he sees you put it in your pocket, he will stay by your side until you get to the dog park. Generally I only get one chance to throw it because he will not bring it back. But it keeps him from stealing other dogs' balls. You can wrestle it from him to throw it again if you want. The only downside of the squeaky toy (other than it is annoying) is that he is less likely to come back when called when he has it because he thinks you want to steal it."

Later in the email:

"This shouldn't be a problem today because the weather isn't nice, but if there are people at the Nethermead with strollers that are not moving, or anything on the ground (jacket or backpack are favorites), Jasper will pee on them."

Jasper does indeed LOVE the red ball (I tried to get some video of him shaking the bejeesus out of it, I'll link to it if it turned out). There were no strollers, jackets, or backpacks, but I'm pretty sure Jasper peed around 40 times in the 45 minutes we were out there.

[This post is also to prove to my brother that email blogging works, so if you're reading this, yay me!]

Within Reason

I'm very excited about impending birth of Sirrah!'s son, Charlie, who is due TODAY. She's going to call me as soon as she has her first contraction, and my plan is to be on the first available flight to Toronto. In fact, if I get there in time, Sirrah! says I can be in the delivery room! (When I told that to her husband Greg, he replied, "Good, you can have my spot." Heh.)

On Saturday we had a conversation about my visit.

"Gillian, I want you to be reasonable about getting here when I go into labour." Read: Don't spend $1,000 on a plane ticket.

"Sare, since when have you known me to be reasonable?"

"I know, but you're working on being reasonable, right?" I hear Greg snicker in the background.

"Well, yeah, I guess. I'll try to be reasonable."

I later relayed the conversation to the very reasonable DLang.

"I promised Sara that I'd try to be reasonable about going to Waterloo when she goes into labour."

"What? G, now is not the time to be reasonable."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Your best friend is going to have her first baby and you can be in the delivery room with her? You should not be reasonable."

"Really? What if it costs $1,000?"

"So what? You can't buy an experience like this."

Really? Did I mention that DLang is generally very reasonable? I'm very excited. This is like my mom saying I could skip school for a day! My new hobby is checking the intarweb to see just how soon I could get to Toronto if Sirrah! called right now. (As of this writing, I could probably be in Waterloo by 1:30 p.m.) And if Charlie can wait just one more day, I might be able to catch a Websaver.

That would be very reasonable.

Gale Force Winds

All day yesterday DLang was talking about the "big Nor'easter" rolling in that was forecast to bring us "rain, sleet, snow, and gale force winds." He said "gale force winds" about 4 times before I finally called him on it.

"You really like saying 'gale force,' don't you?"

"I do!" He switched to his Fox News annoucer voice: "There will be gale force winds!" For the rest of the day, everything was subject to being blown over by "gale force winds":

"Those are nice daffodils."

"Too bad they won't be here tomorrow, because they can't stand up to GALE FORCE WINDS!"

"That's a big pylon."

"Not big enough to withstand GALE FORCE WINDS!"

DLang also mentioned that one of his reasons for liking the phrase is that it involves a hyphens, and he likes hyphens. (It's amazing the little things you can learn about someone years into your relationship.) I have bad news on that front: There's no hyphen. It's just "gale force."

While I'm kind of annoyed that Spring is taking so long to get here, I was secretly excited about such a storm because I love extreme weather. However, it looks like we might be out of luck for the big Nor'easter - it's raining, but (thankfully!) not close to freezing. That's kind of a bummer for you, UFF reader, as I had all sorts of clever posts (well, titles at least) ready to accompany photos of Brooklyn blanketed in snow today. Like, "April Showers?" and "Sometimes It Snows in April."

Oh well, maybe next year.

Percy

Percy
Originally uploaded by Kitty LaRoux.

While my friend Vicki is away for the week, we're hosting her cat, Percy. Since Percy arrived last night, he has meowed incessantly and Memphis has sustained a low-level gutteral growl ALL THE TIME, even while she's eating.

My dreams of them curled up and grooming each other by Tuesday are withering.

On Target

I've recently made a few purchases at Target that are simply too excellent NOT to blog about.

1. The Bunny Dish

Behold the bunny dish, in all her splendor. I purchased this dish at a Target store in Long Island. It cost all of $3.99. It used to be full of delicious Cadbury Mini-Eggs (the superior Canadian variety, of course), but those don't last very long when there's a Langenberg around. [Aside: In an effort to spend my π Day winnings, I was recently perusing a Williams-Sonoma catalogue and found a similar one for over $20! Go Target!]

2. A Sewing Machine

My mom is hardcore with the sewing. A few years ago Dos and I bought her a sewing machine with so many bells and whistles that I think it walks the dogs and does the dishes. (At least it should, for how much it cost.) Me, not so much. I'm an amateur crocheter and knitter, but the last time I touched a sewing machine was to make an elephant pillow in Grade 8 Home Ec. A few weeks ago I was at the (admittedly sub-standard) Target in Brooklyn, looking for a sewing kit. Instead, I ended up buying a very cute Shark Mini Sewing Machine for the low low price of $19.99. Yes, really! A whole sewing machine for $19.99! That's crazy. I came home and whipped up curtains from table runners I'd bought on sale for $9.99 each at West Elm. (The café rod on which they're hanging is also from Target, and cost around $4.99.)

3. Delicious Orange Rainboots!

Target.com, $19.99.

I'm praying for April showers.

Time Waster

Brianna sent me a link to XKCD, a "webcomic of romance,
sarcasm, math, and language" and I have been sitting at my desk giggling ever since. Totally SFW. And hilare.