Panama.

100BM Day 49 Overheard one week (less a day) ago on a highway in rural New Brunswick: “So far, the only musical disappointment on this trip is that this isn’t the David Lee Roth version.” You’re welcome.

Original lyrics.

(Holidailies #13. And yes, I missed a day. again.) Yesterday was full of snow shovelling, trivia, and drunkenness (though not all at the same time). Today is full of muscle exhaustion, data entry, and recovering from drunkenness.

Plucking.

(Holidailies #6) Just a quick one today, as I’m off to a trivia thing. Well, two trivia things in one, since we’re doing the British Open as well. Not feeling great about either. I can’t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, let alone…well, anything British quizzers would be expert in. More cricket? Plotlines to ...

Follow-through. (Holidailies #1.) 1

(Holidailies entry #1) Whoops, in my fog of knitting and getting weepy at ‘Six Feet Under’ all weekend (my family has died a lot), December happened. And that means Holidailies. Which means writing daily. I didn’t notice, and therefore missed day 1. Nice work, me. I go through bouts of updating this space every day ...

Truth. 1

‘I’ve had to learn and discipline myself that I’m much happier and much less depressed if I give myself a project. It’s just that simple.’ – Nick Offerman

Inherited belief.

When I was 10, my mother took me to see the Molly Ringwald teen pregnancy scarefest For Keeps to show me that I shouldn’t get knocked up before I was ready, but didn’t like us watching ‘The Jetsons’ because she felt that it was ridiculous and offensive that Jane’s ‘job’ was to take her husband’s ...

Proust.

  Three days off means this is a hasty entry indeed because I have work (!) to do. Posted this on FB earlier: In previous years, the national services to commemorate Remembrance Day included speakers and large screens so the people in the crowd could see and hear what was going on. Not so this ...

Hiatuseses.

Took a two-day break from the news, work (save for one phone call, grr), and, apparently, writing this weekend in favour of biking in snow, cooking and eating things, and lots of knitting. One baby birthday-related project was completed early this afternoon. Wasn’t ready to make a second yet, so I made myself a giant ...

Rising up with fists.

About 48 hours ago, I decided to take Friday off. Rather, I decided to float the idea of taking it off with my boss, who agreed that I’m not always THAT vital, especially since Paul the Projectionist would be around to run the press screening.

Hat tricks squared.

Wow, my track record for actually writing things this week is fucking abysmal.