because TERRIFIC starts with T

A Tycho post, by request!

Tycho likes to toast himself under my desk lamp while I'm sitting here toiling away. He does it methodically, section by section... he starts with the butt, then moves up to the midsection, and finally roasts his head. He gets pretty hot, too! I have one of those Ikea lights that will melt the erasure clean off a pencile (I've tried it - doesn't smell good). Once he's decently stoned, T will stagger down onto my lap and lie like a lump on a stump until my legs lose all feeling below the knee and I heave him onto the radiator.

By this point he's completely CATatonic (!!!) and can only manage a half-hearted, slow-motion swipe at my hand as I tug on his ears (they're so soft and velvety!). I wonder if it's a fire hazard to have a big fuzzy bundle of fur baking away on the radiator all afternoon? I'm not too worried. I think his drool could put out some pretty big blazes.

Because I should be writing an essay

Cute tastes good.

Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if represented in cold numbers? Maybe it's the political statistics that are trickling into my subconscious from radio reports about the American primaries... but lately I've been wishing I could have someone total up certain features of my life and hand them to me in a spiral-bound report. Examples: how often do I kiss Tycho on the top of his head in an average week? Or how many times a semester do I miss my metro stop because of an absorbing book/podcast? Or how many exclamation marks have I used in emails over the past year ?

I did manage to get my hands on a few stats - and they are actually kind of embarrassing. But, for the sake of procrastination.....

Number of novels I have on my bookshelves: 385
Number of novels I have on my bookshelves which I have read: 115

I haven't even read a third of my own collection! And yet every time I walk by Chapters on Ste. Catherine, or one of the endless used bookshops near Concordia, it's like there's a giant magnetic (megan-netic?) force pulling me in. And then pulling my wallet out of my pocket.

To be fair, some of those books I have read TWICE or maybe even THREE TIMES. And one of the books I've read is Ulysses, which counts for at least three novels. And Les Mis is in there too, which should also count for three. But still... don't you think I should take a year off just to read? I wonder if there's a government grant for that....

I often think excitedly that, since I'll be done university this spring, I'll suddenly have infinite time to read whatever/whenever I want. I have a vague feeling, though, that I might be idealizing the future... not that I've ever done THAT before.

Sigh.

Things I've eaten in the past week that haven't contained sugar: well, I can only thing of one definite example.....

Girls Who Park in Cars

[Push play to see the video, as long as you have an updated Flash]

Oh, Wally! I lost count of how many times this video made me laugh out loud. If only I had seen it in high school. It would have saved me from all kinds of social missteps! Especially all those dreadful times that I forgot to do my hair and nails!!! It's nice to see, also, that my habit of making brownies every five seconds is a good one. I just hope that the boys I offer brownies to don't get the wrong idea. I only park in cars with one specific boy!

Okay, so, back in Montreal now! Everything is grand, and it's fantastic to be back on this magic island - though I have a rumbly in my tumbly (like Winnie), and it's called "I MISS THE HOLIDAYS". I miss being in Waterloo with Bronwyn and Adam and Mom - and a full wine rack. I miss baking at 186 Oxford. I miss spilling drinks at Jen & Mark's apartment. I miss toasting my rear section at the woodstove in Ian and Ingrid's house! And I miss waking up with a dog, a cat, and a kid in my bed! And losing at "Streik" (a game played with dice and math skills). Seriously, 9-year-old Linnea is scary-good at a game that, to the rest of us, is almost all luck. In all fairness, it's hard to compete when Linnea's around, because she is a champion. Observe her game face! Total intimidation.


I learned countless things from enjoying concentrated Linnea time over the holidays, and there aren't enough hours left in the day to relay them all - from how to build a Webkinbz empire to how to properly break ice blocks over your head to how to have fun even though it's 7am - she's got it all down. Most of all, though, I learned the importance of wardrobe. Not in an obsessive, fashionista kind of way. More in a "how to dress for the occasion" kind of way. Example? Check this out:

See those pants she's wearing? Those aren't just any pants. Those are ALADDIN pants. They puff out from the waist and are perfect for riding imaginary magic carpets. Why is she wearing them at that precise moment? Because the Aladdin stage adaptation was playing on TV that night, naturally. See what I mean? It's amazing. At another moment in the week Ian and Ingrid were flying about the house, attempting (with the sort of frantic energy that anyone in charge of organizing a family for a timely departure will understand) to leave for a family to-do in another town - and there stood Linnea, perfectly calm, wondering aloud to the dog whether or not there would be snow where they were going, and consequently whether or not she should bring her snowsuit. I think we could all learn something from the serenity and sensibility of Linnea's measured consideration amidst the chaos. It could even be interpreted as an extended metaphor about life: always ask yourself if there will be snow where you're going, and dress appropriately!

Other Ontario fun-ness, in no particular order...

Homemade poutine and mini-burgers!

Homemade love(liness)!

A man and his kitteh:

Also over the holidays: December 27th, 2007, was the official "Negaversary" for Jen & Mark - exactly a year from that date they will marry, and those of us lucky enough to be there will crowd an open bar in their honour. To celebrate the Negaversary, the two wedding parties got together and, in 9(?)-year-old Talon's words, "deposed a toast" to the beauties. Some of the evening, in pictoral form:

Observe Jen's hotness! But don't get any ideas... she's practically married.


Trying to have a moment with Jen, while she tries to have a moment with her camera.


Michael steals the wooly sweater which I stole from Bronwyn... oh no! when will the thieving end!
Bridesmaid bonding:


We hope that if Mark ever has children, he will know which end is up...

I will be back soon. In the meantime, here is what Tycho looked like within an hour of our arrival "home" in Montreal (dude had been waiting for weeks to get his basket chair back):