Thursday, December 28, 2006

Carrie Fisher is awesome

I'm back from my Christmas holiday. It's amazing what you can get done when you're not glued to a computer... I finally finished reading the October issue of Vanity Fair, and started November.

(Yes, I'm that behind in my VF subscription. I'm also carrying some extra weight. Goddamned BLOGGING.)

Imagine my delight when I turned to George Wayne's Q&A with Carrie Fisher. Fisher refers to her home as "Kennecuntport." And when Wayne asks her how she ended up in Star Wars, she responds, "I slept with some nerd. I hope it was George [Lucas]."

I absolutely love her.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

rouge-alicious def

This post is inspired by YJA's nasty comment from the other day. (He said that I should pretty myself up a bit if I want to meet a nice guy.) I decided to take his negative energy and turn it into something cheerful and life-affirming.

(Backgrounder: YJA and I have a long history of hurling insults at each other. Well, it's more of a one-way thing. But there's lots of lurve there--don't misunderstand me.)

YJA likes to poke fun at how I dress. Admittedly, there are times I can be stuck in the '90s. This is primarily due to my love of plaid. And yes, I did wear a plaid shirt to the Christmas party I mentioned in Sunday's post.

But here's the thing: plaid's back. Just ask Fergie... check out her awesome plaid dress in the video for "Fergalicious". I'm bringin' tartan back!

Sunday, December 17, 2006

stronger and harder than a bad girl's dream

Thursday night I dreamed I was having a hot and heavy affair with Colton Ford. It wasn't so much a sexually detailed dream as it was emotionally intense. Colton was already in a relationship in my dream. We were cheating. Plus, he was a guest where I work, which can so get me fired in real life.

The theme of unavailable men continued on Saturday night at a Christmas party in Cabbagetown. A few weeks ago, the host told me about a hot twentysomething that he thought would be perfect for me. And I met him at the party. Hot, most definitely.

But my friend left out a crucial detail: the partner of several years.

Another party guest was a seriously tall & cute guy I met last winter. Partnered, according to reports. Well, after six drinks, I found a moment to tell the tall guy how attractive he was, and to ask if he was still in a relationship. He replied that he was. Tall guy was exceptionally gracious and kind about the whole thing--and spent quite a bit of the remaining night chatting with me.

I wanted to shout at him: "why couldn't I have met you first?"

This is not an easy time of year to be single.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006


Last week, some coworkers and I went out for lunch in The Toronto Star building. Its cafeteria features a view of Toronto Harbour, and I enjoy looking out the large windows. I get to see the planes coming in for a landing at Toronto City Centre Airport. And there's always the hope that I'll spot some ducks on the walk there.

On this occasion, I watched a tugboat pulling an enormous crane barge west from the port lands. Immediately, I flashed back to one of my favourite books as a child: Tuggy the Tugboat by Jean Horton Berg.

I hadn't thought of the book in a long, long time. I'm going to try and dig it out of storage at my parents' house over Christmas. From what I can remember, the imagery was dark (a storm or inclement weather was involved) but not scary. The city setting (presumably New York) looked enormous to this small boy from the wilderness of northwestern Ontario. And although I grew up around water and boats, the might of a tugboat certainly impressed me.

There are times when my inner child comes back from the dead...

Monday, December 11, 2006

weekend recap

  • on Friday night, I watched Mean Girls on TBS. I'm starting to think that Lindsay Lohan is actually talented.

  • on Saturday, there was a big Christmas party at Jason's. His room-mate is a really good cook, and the food was incredible. A few of us were recruited to be on the decorating/prep committee, so I poured my first drink at 4 p.m. (four hours ahead of the party's official start time). Mistake!

  • I owe Salem $10. I'm giving you a blog IOU, dude.

  • I was hurting on Sunday, but I had another Christmas party to go to... this one given by a neighbour in the afternoon. I stuck to Perrier, and one glass of champagne.

  • at the party, I discussed my lack of need for a cellular telephone. Around that time, my brother was repeatedly calling my apartment to get my assistance, as my sister-in-law was in the city with a flat tire. Sorry. At least now you know how to perform this vital automotive skill. It's better you learn it in the Park'N'Fly lot than on the side of a freeway in a storm. At night.

  • on lastnight's American Dad, the headline in the Langley Falls Post read, "New York City bans trans fats; Fat trannies still allowed"

Friday, December 08, 2006

Josh Stamberg

Meat Meet the eighth entry in my Top Ten List.


Here's Josh Stamberg as "Sarge," the paintballer who had a threeway with Keith and David in the third season of Six Feet Under. He played a no-nonsense, no-drama gay guy who oozed sex and a comfortable, natural masculinity that had me, um, standing at attention.

On Monday's episode of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, he guest starred as a movie producer who offers Harriet a major role--and states that he wants to date her. I hope this is a long story arc, because I can't get enough of this man. Josh... you're hot! Please, update your IMDB page with some photos and your role on S60!

(While you're at it, needs work.)

previous entries

Eric Bana
Chris Evans
Colton Ford
Troy Garity
Christopher Meloni
Adrian Pasdar
Paul Rudd

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

poop in the lake

I've fretted previously about waste water entering the Great Lakes. Last week, the Sierra Legal Defence Fund released a major study on the amount of raw sewage being dumped into the Great Lakes. It's a disgusting problem, and we are right to be concerned about what's going on upstream from us here in Toronto. We should also be ashamed of ourselves, as a city, for letting our own problems with untreated sewage discharges persist for so long.

In the Great Lakes Sewage Report Card, cities in the region are graded according to the amount of raw sewage that enters the watershed. Most typically, problems occur when rainfall overwhelms the sewage treatment system. Detroit, Cleveland, Windsor, and Toronto are the biggest offenders. (Buffalo and Toledo refused to provide the study with data; Chicago gets a good grade, but its waste water is diverted into the Mississippi watershed.)

Yesterday, when I visited my ducks (who are doing just fine, by the way), the water clarity of last week was replaced by turbidity--a sign of the recent rains.

I think the only creatures who should be allowed to poop in the lake are the ones that were here before humans came and fucked everything up.

Monday, December 04, 2006


Lastnight's episode of Family Guy was a repeat, but it was a classic. There's a lot of gratuitous violence in Patriot Games, and a brilliant scene where Lois drills a hole through the wall so she can spy on Tom Brady having a shower. Best of all is this musical number that Peter breaks into during a New England Patriots game:

I laughed until I cried.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I love ducks

Although I work in a depressing windowless office, the building is right on the shore of Lake Ontario. So when I need cheering up, I head out, get a coffee, and sit by the water for a few minutes. This is what I did on Monday afternoon. The weather was balmy, and the lake was calm.

I watched a large group of Long-tailed ducks in the harbour. I don't see this species much, because they're on the lake in the colder months of the year.

A few of them were making their way toward the pier. They dove underwater, so I quietly approached the pier's edge. Standing still, I watched the bubble trails get closer. They surfaced right in front of me. Absolutely beautiful birds: white and dark brown, with long slender tail feathers. We studied each other for a few seconds, and then they dove back down into the water.

I felt my spirit recharged as I tracked their underwater progress... graceful, purposed... to a depth of several feet. (The effect of the zebra mussel infestation is astounding.)

I turned back north, looked at the gleaming downtown skyline, and returned to work.

In researching and writing this post, I learned that the ducks were probably feeding on the zebra mussels. Anything solid, stationary, and underwater in Lake Ontario is usually covered with them. I just hope the mussels didn't make the ducks sick with botulism.

further information:

Clangula hyemalis
zebra mussels
article about zebra and quagga mussels in Saturday's Globe and Mail
overview of invasive species in the Great Lakes

Monday, November 27, 2006

back from Indy road trip

On Friday, I went on a trip to Indianapolis with Salem, Jason, and YJA. We got back last night. It was a fun trip. Some highlights:

  • I forgot to print off a list of kph/mph conversions (my car's speedometer is in metric only), and I'm glad I didn't get the chance to try that explanation out with a state trooper in MI-OH-IN on Friday (IN-MI on Sunday).

  • YJA purchased a portable DVD player for the journey, so he only tormented us occasionally. He looked so cute there in the back seat with his videos.

  • YJA sounds like a little kid when he asks "are we there yet?" repeatedly

  • Salem is an ace navigator

  • I have no voice left after two nights of partying in Indianapolis. I got a little too drunk on Friday night.

  • Tim's premonition came true, because I wound up in the "scary" bar. My recollection of this is partial at best.

  • We need to come up with a system to remind Jason that he checked his jacket... some sort of clicker or perimeter alarm that prevents him from leaving without it.

I met so many wonderful people on the weekend, including several bloggers: Timmy and Indygirl (the birthday celebrants), Pablo, Leslie, a frog girl of some sort (I met her after several drinks), and Butchie ... Thanks to everyone for showing us such a good time. We hope you can make it to Toronto some day...

Monday, November 20, 2006

Seven of Ten, tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix Incredibly Effing HOT

I first laid eyes on the tall, dark, and handsome Troy Garity during the telecast of the 2004 Golden Globe Awards. He was nominated for his role in Soldier's Girl, which I finally saw over the weekend. And he's the seventh man on my Top Ten List.

Garity's performance is believable, powerful, and moving. I'm looking forward to seeing more of him on screen.


previous entries

Eric Bana
Chris Evans
Colton Ford
Christopher Meloni
Adrian Pasdar
Paul Rudd

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

these characters are real to me

(The title of this post is an inside joke that I share with Peter. At least, I think it is...)

In August 2001, I had a relationship end suddenly. Luckily, the cable provider for my apartment complex was running a free trial of a movie network (read: low-budget HBO equivalent), so I didn't have to find all of my comfort in ice cream and anonymous sex. That's when I started watching Six Feet Under.

From the outset, I was hooked. The show took me away to Los Angeles, and I got swept up in the lives of the Fisher family. Eventually, the series was picked up on the Showcase channel in Canada, but it was always very far behind HBO's broadcast. I was content to wait--the show was worth it.

So that's why I'm just now watching the final season. I've resisted the urge to go on a renting spree at the video store, limiting myself to any episodes I missed from Showcase.

Even after five seasons, and even if I'm watching the show on tape or DVD, I still watch the stunningly beautiful opening credits. The music, the font... I just love it.

So, please excuse me for my absence the last few days. There has been a death in my television family.

Only two episodes left...

Friday, November 10, 2006

hello, Mr. Meloni

You're the sixth entry on my Top Ten List.

Christopher Meloni does it all: drama, comedy, full-frontal... the man has guts and talent. And he's so damned hunky!


previous entries

Eric Bana
Chris Evans
Colton Ford
Adrian Pasdar
Paul Rudd

Thursday, November 09, 2006


I made a new favicon for my blog. Depending on your browser, you might see it in the address bar. I realized it turned out rather small, so here it is:

(I think it reflects the spirit of I Always Win. Some people might think it's excessively negative. I'm just trying to make people laugh. That is, after all, one of the reasons I started this blog.)

From what I've read, in order for the image to be supported in IE, I'd have to convert the .gif to a .ico file--not exactly easy, since none of my computer's three imaging programs can do that. But I am quite proud of myself for figuring out how to make it and stick it in the html of my template.

I'm going to try and come up with something that will display a bit better in the confines of the address bar.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006


Let me put on my hack blogger hat for a moment. There was a major continuity problem in lastnight's episode of Studio 60. In "Nevada Day Part I" several members of the show and the network fly on the company jet to Nevada. The exterior shot is (I think) a Falcon business jet... a beautiful small plane. The interior shots don't match--the width of the cabin suggests a much larger commercial passenger airliner.

Poor set choice, people. Awesome episode otherwise!


On yesterday's post about my AWOL weekend date, St. Dickeybird commented, " How can you be fending for yourself on a Saturday?" and listed some popular avenues of hook-up, including the Internet.

I think the Internet is part of the problem. When I look back at my experience, the most common result of meeting someone on the Internet is a quick fuck. I don't usually find fault with that, but when someone comes along with "BF Material" stamped on their forehead, can I be blamed for thinking about a second date? Perhaps. Silly faggot... tricks are for dick!

I know others have landed relationships from the web, but any of my past relationships originated in the non-cyber here-and-now.

Maybe I'm not built for the Internet. I can be a bit shy in person--so meeting someone online gives me courage. And although I don't think that I have intimacy issues, I think the online dating/hook-up world attracts more than its fair share of people who do.

And I usually end up meeting them.

Monday, November 06, 2006

I had a great weekend... found a subway token in the washer...

Yay! Free ride to work. Except that I can't be sure it didn't come from the pockets of the clothes I was laundering.

Is my glass half full, half empty, or destined to be the glass at a Jewish wedding ceremony? I dunno...

I got stood up for a second time by The Beautiful Boy. We were supposed to see a movie on Saturday. I think he must have wound up in an emergency room somewhere, without access to a telephone. Perhaps he was abducted by aliens. All I know is that I was left to fend for myself on Saturday, which meant that I channelled all of my waiting-by-the-phone angst into cleaning.

(He called me out of the blue a week ago, apologizing for bailing on our second date. He offered up a pretty good explanation, and said he'd really like to see me again. He wanted us to get to know each other better, and I agreed to that. He suggested a movie.)

Invertebrates learn faster than I do. Seriously.


I literally laughed my ass off watching Sunday's episode of American Dad. In Lincoln Lover, Stan learns yet another life lesson: this one about the gays. He joins the Log Cabin Republicans. Some of the high points:

- the Langley LCR chapter throws an impromptu party featuring a new cocktail. The drink inspires Roger to ask, "what's in it, and how can I replace all of my blood with it?"

- during the party, a musical number breaks out (as it so often does with us gays). A sample lyric: "we like packing fudge... and heat!" (visual: a box of fudge, with a gun laid on top)

- it's revealed that Stan's gay neighbours drive Saabs--one with a "PITCHER" vanity plate; the other with "CATCHER"

Friday, November 03, 2006

Five. Ford. Friday.

What is it about Friday that makes my mind drift to hunky men? I seem to remember "beefcake Friday" over at Republic of Dogs. Auntie and Thistle have their " who'd ya do?" (although that's sometimes about choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea).

Entry number five on my Top Ten List is Colton Ford.


One of these days I'll pick up Naked Fame at the store and learn more about his foray into the music business. I'll be honest, though: he first grabbed my attention as an adult film star, and that's where he'll always have a place in my, um, heart. Woof!

Previous entries on my list are linked here.

- note to tehl4m3: careful, you're still on watch
- note to Timmy: your e-mail appears to be broken. (I tried!)

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

please for not to be cancelling my Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip

Hello? NBC? Yes, thank you. I am a crank. I once wrote a letter to ABC asking them not to cancel Twin Peaks. I like quirky, intelligent television, and I thank you for doing an Internet search and finding this blog post. Since The West Wing ended, I have been in a Severe Sorkin Shortage. And yes, I also loved Sports Night.


There are so many reasons to love Studio 60. Amanda Peet's smart-as-hell character, Jordan McDeere. Sarah Paulson, who played the lovely lipstick lesbian in The Other Sister. The way the show gives me hope that America's current religious tensions won't end up mushrooming into, well, a mushroom cloud.

I love it the most, though, for its skewering of bloggers in the second episode:
[a blogger has written about the firing of Tom's boss]
Tom Jeter: The New York Times is going to quote [that blogger] so that the people can be heard, and the Times can demonstrate they're not the 'media elite.' I preferred it when they were elite--I'm a fan of credentials. It's like we've all spent the last five years living a Roger Corman film called Revenge of the Hack.


So, NBC, if you could listen to just this last blogging hack and let my show live, I would be ever so grateful. Why listen to me, you ask? I'm the life-long network television viewer who, disgusted with Survivor-esque reality programming, spent the last 6.5 years renting HBO series from the local video store. Oh, and I also did a lot of reading.

Monday, October 30, 2006

life traps

Not a bad weekend. Got caught up on my sleep, which had been suffering in the last couple of weeks. Got some domestic crap done.

I tried to get back into the self-help book I'm currently reading, Reinventing Your Life. I abandoned it earlier this year when I came to the part that instructed me to write a letter (in my dominant hand) to my wounded inner child, and let my inner child answer back in my non-dominant hand.


I'm finding that to be a bit of a road block. My shrink told me to skip it. I'm inclined to agree, because I think the book's foundations in cognitive therapy are good.

In a future post, I'll describe what life traps the book says I've fallen into!

Friday, October 27, 2006

F is for 4, fantastic, and f*** me gently with a chainsaw!

It's Friday... time for another man from my Top Ten List.

The previous entries (in no particular order) were Eric Bana, Adrian Pasdar, and Paul Rudd. Get your spoons ready... here comes my fourth man, Chris Evans:

Yes, he's pretty in an obvious sort of way. But he's also hella sexy. I was in such a state after seeing Fantastic Four that I thought I was in a pull-through parking spot, and drove into a cement barrier in the movie theatre garage.

Here's another shot, much more rough-and-tumble:


Wednesday, October 25, 2006

hang in there, Dickey!

I'm sure there will be a bullet train to Georgetown in the next decade! You know... unless our governments decide to make more rail lines into parks or trails.

Peter, Jason, and I enjoyed meeting you yesterday evening.

And remember, Dickey... it's your blog, you can kvetch if you want to.

Monday, October 23, 2006

he doesn't look a thing like Jesus

My last two posts were about love and romance. Here's why:

I met someone at the beginning of October. After what I thought was a good first date on the 6th, we made plans for a second date. We talked on the phone, and decided to go for Sunday brunch on the 15th. I called the day before to firm up the plans; he didn't answer. (No, it wasn't a case of me always calling him.)

Sunday came and went. He never called back, or e-mailed. (He still hasn't.)

Boo hoo; big deal. This crap happens to everyone. Be a man; suck it up and move on. You slept with him on the first date. He's seven years younger. You met on a gay hook-up site. You hooked up, and you drove him home the next afternoon. What more were you expecting?

Here's what I was expecting:
  • to have my call returned
  • to go out for a nice brunch, as planned
  • that someone who exhibited prior behaviour that can best be described as "into me" wouldn't suddenly give me the brush-off
So, unless he lost my number, dropped his cell phone into Lake Ontario, and had his computer blow up, he knows how to get in touch. I might not ever find out what happened.

Next time, I should set my expectation level to zero and try not to get ahead of myself. But the problem is, with each schlep through the barnyard of dating, I get more and more shit on myself--and it takes longer for me to clean it off and venture out again. Case in point: in the last year, I have been on two dates.

Meanwhile, the smokin' Brandon Flowers is singin' on the radio:
You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now
Here he comes
The Killers, "When You Were Young"

At one point during our date, the beautiful boy asked: "why are you still single?"

That is the most loaded of loaded questions. I've been asked it before, so luckily, I had my boilerplate response ready: "Since my relationship with S ended, I've just been 'striking out' a lot." How the hell are you supposed to answer that question? Please discuss.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

in love with being in love

Many years ago, someone told me that I was "in love with being in love." I took issue with that notion. I found it dismissive. It devalued the fact that I was lonely and was hoping to fall in love and shack up. I thought it was like saying "you're in love with being healthy," or "prosperous," or "happy." Duh.

This idea was addressed in a recent Savage Love column. If what this poor guy wrote to Dan about is true, then I think I finally understand what "in love with love" might mean.

I'm curious to know what y'all think.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

the one that got away?

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.
- George Santayana, The Life of Reason

Many people who know me say that I'm too caught up in ancient history (in the proverbial sense). I trot out the ghost stories from my past and deconstruct them, over and over again.

While I concede that excessive wading into the waters downstream from the bridge can be limiting, I don't think it's unreasonable to stop every once in a while and look back at what has transpired. You are, in large part, a bundle of your past experiences.

In 1994, I moved to Toronto for school. I was finally out of the closet (mostly), in good shape, and feeling really good about the future. I especially enjoyed being 24 and having my "fresh meat" status at the local gay bars. I had just registered for my courses in the week after Labour Day, and when Friday came around, I headed out to Colby's--one of the best gay clubs in the city. There, I met Kevin. He was dark-haired, a few years older, and a really nice guy. I found him attractive (the Irish/Italian mix always did it for me) and we went back to my place. I had only been living there for five days.

Over the next couple of weeks, Kevin and I went out a few more times--including a date to see The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert in the theatre. We also slept together a few more times. I grew bored; I practically chomped at the bit to get out and see what other men awaited me. I continued to go out and pick up, and eventually I stopped being in contact with Kevin.

The man-parade continued all through that fall and winter, fueled by lots of partying and booze. Some of the details are foggy. I can remember a promising start with a Greek guy I met at the gym. How it finished is anyone's guess. One night, I brought home a young Polish guy named Svilen--and came to the next morning as I heard him unbolting my door to leave. My foray into blonde territory happened at a bath house in the early hours of Valentine's Day 1995--surprising how that one didn't work out, despite a few subsequent dates.

There were sometimes two or three men in a week. In my mind, I was young, attractive, and doing--relatively safely--what gay men did. I was the personification of delayed gay adolescence. But it began to wear thin. Like getting hungry an hour after eating cheap Chinese take-out, I started to notice that I was looking forward to the next encounter not long after finally finding my socks on some guy's bedroom floor. I was confident it wasn't a sexual addiction, but I realized I had some growing up to do. So when Kevin got in touch, I began seeing him again.

It didn't last.

To this day, I can't remember how it ended. Was there a lack of chemistry, or was I just not giving him a chance? If I hadn't been so young and stupid--and scared--maybe I'd have ended up in a loving, committed relationship, and maybe I'd have never embarked down another path. Were all the notches on my bedpost worth throwing someone away? What kind of a person is so lacking in self-esteem that they proudly recall the three Woody's bartenders among the notches?

In the latter part of the '90s, I would occasionally run into Kevin's best friend Mark. I would always ask how he was doing. Once, I shared my regret with Mark, and asked him to relay it to Kevin.

The last I heard, Kevin was living in Vancouver with his partner. I truly hope he's happy, and knows how sorry I am for hurting him.

Friday, October 13, 2006

a perennial member of my Top Ten List

Back in March, I promised a posting of my Top Ten List. (Given the recent dearth of posts on this clog, I should consider stretching that list out to ten posts.)

The list has been a fluid thing over the years, but Paul Rudd has been there since I first saw him (along with just about everyone else) in 1995's Clueless. In the spring of 1998, I had to log a weekend of retail therapy to get over seeing Rudd in The Object of My Affection. (He completely destroyed me in that film.) And unlike Rachel Weisz's character in The Shape of Things (2003), I thought Paul Rudd's character was perfect and not in need of a makeover.

So, thanks to Peter's surfing, I bring you the intelligent sensuality of Paul Rudd:

(Lookit the boxers on the floor! I'm done!)

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Rouge and Peter like to keep active

Many thanks to Butchie, mad Photoshop genius.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

I am cheering and jumping on my couch

I just finished watching Ugly Betty and I think I'm hooked. America Fererra impressed me in a tv movie two years ago (contrary to what Peter might be inclined to believe, I've never seen The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants) and she is beyond lovable as Betty Suarez. This could fill the void left in my life after The Devil Wears Prada!

Consequently, I am screwed on Thursday evenings. I am going to be watching tv for three hours straight: Ugly Betty, Grey's Anatomy, ER.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Hello, Vegas? We would like some more alcohol. Oh, and also, some more beers. Hello? Oh wait, I forgot to dial!

After celebrating Candy's birthday Friday night, I just have one question: how come I didn't get Smart-Served?

I'm an adult, and I take full responsibility for deciding to drink all of Sweden. I realize that in getting a pretty entertainment reporter's name wrong, I made an ass of myself. And not just the regular kind of ass. Getting her mixed up with a reporter on a rival network made me an ass hat. I might as well have called her Tricia Takanawa -- she might have had a less horrified look on her face then.

But seriously, when I fumble my bar order by asking for "an Absolut Mandarin and vodka" -- on two separate occasions -- maybe it's time to offer me just a plain club soda. Ugh.

Friday, September 22, 2006

more objects found by Atlantis

These were spotted in orbit around Uranus:


Ugh. I hate myself for this post.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

I Don't Feel Like Cloggin'

No sir, no cloggin' today.

Despite the fact that I sometimes wonder how anyone can get through all of the "hey lookit what I found on YouTube" posts--no matter how neat and cool they may be--I'm posting the new Scissor Sisters video. I love the relentless catchiness of I Don't Feel Like Dancin' and hope that someday, some man will have cause to say or think these things about me:
I'm gonna be the one who gets it right
I'm gonna tell the whole world that you're mine
The album comes out in Canada in a few days. (My fellow clogger Normlr gave it an advance review last week.) Until then, feast your eyes on the bulging leather pants of Jake Shears:

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

I have something to get off my chest

When I started manscaping in my 20s, I never really had a problem with the dreaded inaugural itch. It was uncomfortable for about a day, and that was it. Ever since, I've followed the Samantha Jones school of pubic hair: it's like a calling card.

A couple of weeks ago, I was bored and decided to clip my chest hair.

It's still itchy and making me meshugena.

How can my chest be more sensitive than my huevos?

Monday, September 11, 2006

this needs to happen

William Shatner should cover "SexyBack" by Justin Timberlake. Clear your mind. Can't you just hear him?

Dirty, babe
You see these shackles? Baby, I'm your slave
I'll let you whip me if I misbehave
It's just that no one makes me feel... this way

Fatrobot, please make us a gif.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

here's to you, Snowflake

All hail Mary-Louise Parker. Weeds wouldn't be the show it is without you.

Note to the Showtime network: what's your damage, Heather? Why can't I look at your goddamned website up here in Canada? I'd love to know more about Weeds... things like music credits. Heck, I might even download wallpaper or an IM icon. But no, I'm stuck with the ghetto site from the Canadian broadcaster. Get with the, um, program. During the run of HBO's Six Feet Under, I was able to explore deep into a show that I adored. Showtime, take a lesson from your rival and unclench, for fuck's sake.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

maybe I'm taking it the wrong way

subtitled: artistic license

The other day, I was listening to 102.1 FM here in Toronto and they played "Comin' Home" by City and Colour. I had already heard "Save Your Scissors" and although I don't know who Alexis is or why she's on fire, I thought it was a nice enough song. But I was put off by this lyric in "Comin' Home"
I've been to Lincoln, Nebraska
and hell you know it ain't worth shit
I've never been to Lincoln, but I think it's pointless and somewhat immature for the song's protagonist to put a place down like that. Then again, the performer hails from a band whose Internet domain name is "the only band ever." I shouldn't expect too much.

The only other character I know of that might dislike Lincoln is Aurora Greenway. Her daughter died there, in a hospital room, in Terms of Endearment.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

sorry, William

There are a lot of things I'm sorry about, William. I mean, besides the obvious. I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat. I'm sure you would have done more with your life than I've done in my 36 years on the planet.

Mostly, I'm sorry for keeping a distance. There are lots of complicated reasons behind that, filed under the heading of "family laundry." Maybe I made a big mistake. Was it enough to remember your birthday, and give you Christmas presents? I only live an hour away. I've been hanging on to a second-hand Spiderman action figure to give to you. But I didn't know if you were too old for it.

As a result of keeping that distance, the balance of what I know about you was learned after your departure. I feel really guilty about not making a better effort to know such a great kid. I'm sorry.


To the cloggers: thanks for the kind words and messages. I know I wasn't exactly Mr. Sunshine before all of this happened, so I want to state for the record that I am O.K. Fortuitously, my shrink called to check up on me this week, so I'll be meeting with him shortly.

I'll be back around in a few days.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

rouge is just not that into you

Sorry, man. The heart wants what it wants. Dicks don't lie. Ain't enough Viagra in your medicine cabinet when:

  • you're trying to shove my fingers all up in there, and I can see a Crisco smudge on your shaved head
  • during the deed, "Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car" is playing on the satellite radio in your bedroom
  • you invite me over for a second date--even promising to make me pasta with your Italian mother's homemade sauce--then drop me cold until two months later, when you cc me on a hot hookup email to some other dude
  • I find out that you deal. And steal.
  • I find out you're a part-time actor. And you like getting gobbed on.
  • you don't bother closing the bathroom door, and it's noisy
  • you trick me into eating tripe at a dim-sum place
  • you proudly don't wear deodorant
  • you have to stop at a 24h cheque-cashing joint, because you're trying to "hide" your new part-time job from your landlord
  • you point out your two missing molars--where the bridle goes
This list of adventures is a partial summary of my last five single years. Hang in there, Midniter. He'll be back soon.

Monday, August 14, 2006

go ahead, be done with it

A recent exchange between Jason and Rouge:

rouge: have you seen the new Justin Timberlake video?

Jason: guess if I'm "SexyBack" or not?

rouge: I'm "Baby's Got Back"

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Rouge? Non... bleu.

A freshly-showered friend in your car smells like your ex. The Tuesday night movie is the same one you went to see, by yourself, at the theatre six years ago on a night you knew your boyfriend was cheating on you. You are so miserable at your job that it permeates all aspects of your life. You know that if you don't do something about it, not only will you still be there in 10 years, you'll also be 46, single, and bitter beyond belief (even more so than now).

You keep a car that's putting you in debt just so that you have a way to escape a city you don't like living in. It's a city that has kicked your ass, but it has the largest population of gay men in your homo-marriage-legal country. Critical mass. 'Cause where else is a gay guy gonna meet another gay guy? The country? Maybe in a pr0n video.

On the weekends you actually do stay in the city, you don't go out. You've even given up on the Internet. Five years of serious trolling, and all you have to show for it are stories that your friends bring up at parties to embarrass you.

Sometimes you think that you're a chameleon, because your sense of self is just bled in from what's around you. How can you know what you want to do with your life when you don't know who you are? You watch House and Grey's Anatomy and you wish you were a doctor. You watch the schmaltzy music video for Grey's Anatomy on the website, and you wish you were the singer. As tears stream down your face, 'cause you're such a maudlin wuss.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Rouge on Pink

This post will probably make me seem like a fourteen year-old girl, but... when has emasculation stopped me before on this goddamned blog?

I've decided that I like Pink. When she first surfaced, I had the same reaction as when I saw my first Britney Spears poster in a crappy mall music store: you have got to be kidding.

I think it was Pink's vocals for "Just Like a Pill" and her inflection when she sang
I said 'I tried to call the nurse again, but she's being a little bitch'
I think I'll get out of here...
that converted me. She had me at "bitch."

Although I don't have any of her albums, I have enjoyed the Pink songs I've been exposed to. "Stupid Girls" has a great message and video. And I have been humming "Who Knew" for a couple of weeks now.
If someone said three years from now
You'd be long gone
I'd stand up and punch them out
'cause they're all wrong
I know better
'cause you said forever
And ever
Who knew
This is one of my gayest posts ever.

Monday, July 31, 2006

I get cranky when it's hot

Sometimes, it makes me write grumpy e-mails. I got into an argument with a Toronto radio host last summer. I'll call him "Expressway Eddie."

Date: Mon, 25 Jul 2005
From: madamerouge
Subj: "normal?"
To: radio station comments
CC: Expressway Eddie

It is 4:35 p.m. on Monday July 25th. The current on-air personality is demonstrating an exceptional amount of insensitivity regarding the heat. He just referred to a caller as "normal" because she enjoys the heat. So people who suffer from extreme heat are abnormal?

Let's see how he feels if one of his grandparents dies in an oven-like apartment, or a loved one suffers an acute asthma attack due to air pollution. Let's also see if he changes his tune if he loses his indoor air-conditioned job for an outdoor job like roofing or road construction. This weather is no laughing matter--it kills! Would he belittle those who discuss extreme cold when it takes the lives of homeless people?

I would expect this kind of garbage from Fox radio
but not a Canadian broadcaster.



Date: Mon, 25 Jul 2005
From: Expressway Eddie
Subj: "normal?"
To: madamerouge

Hi missed the earlier break when I said, there are exceptions! I'm not that insensitive.

Appreciate you listening.


Date: Mon, 25 Jul 2005
From: madamerouge
Subj: "normal?"
To: Expressway Eddie

I heard the entire schpiel. However, your little caveat at the beginning was quickly obliterated when you later described the one female caller (the one who was rejoicing in this 96F heat) as "normal." Using such a loaded term can only leave some people feeling excluded. To me, this is the equivalent of calling a recent immigrant to Toronto (say, from a hot country in Asia or Africa) "abnormal" for having trouble coping with sub-zero temperatures in January. Editorialize all you want about how we shouldn't complain about the weather. I agree with you. Just be ready to be questioned when you use a term like "normal."

A few decades ago, it was considered "normal" for the infirm to be sterilized, Aboriginal people to be put in Christian schools against their will, and for homosexuality to be in the criminal code.

Personally, I think Margaret Atwood had it right when she wrote The Edible Woman. The novel is set in a Canadian city that is all but named as Toronto, and she wrote that it was "too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter." Amen.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

I am afraid of Demi M00re's b00bs

-but only in the trailer for the movie Striptease. As "La Grange" by ZZ Top spools up, and Demi tears off her white shirt (violently freeing her breasts), I get startled.

Jooles works with Mitzee and Jason. Sometimes we e-mail each other during the day about a song we've heard on the radio. I first discussed this notion of Moore's flailing cans with Jooles about a year ago. Every time I hear "La Grange" on the radio, I get a mental picture of the hostile h00ters in that movie trailer.

I really don't like that.

And lastnight, Striptease aired on one of the cable channels. Great. Now I'm associating "Cold" and "Money Can't Buy It" (by my beloved Annie Lennox) with titties, instead of every gay dinner party I attended from 1993-1994.

It has all gone to hell in my brain.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Dijon dream

I stopped off at the city's worst Dominion store (at College Park) last night after work. Dijon mustard is on my list, but they don't stock my favourite brand, Maille. I refuse to pay full price for French's, so I skip it.

What did I dream about lastnight? Row upon row of Maille Dijon mustard, on sale.

This is obviously my stressed-out brain processing stuff. I'm extra-busy at work right now. Basically, I'm Mitzzee.

Not helping matters is the lack of (good) sex. Also, I haven't worked out since June 13th. I need a goddamned break.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

turn me on/loose/whatever

Earlier this week, Butchie over at My Blog Rules Your Ass! posted some great cover images of trashy/pulp/lesbiaxploitation fiction. Titillating, for sure. It reminded me of my first clandestine read:

It was the winter of 1981, and I was 11 years old. Loverboy's "Turn Me Loose" was on constant rotation on the Winnipeg AM radio station I could barely pick up, CKY AM 580. Turn Me On! by Jack W. Thomas (Bantam, ISBN 0553144103, if you're interested) was a novel I found at our cabin. It was just smutty enough for my emerging curiosity toward sex. Even today, when I hear Mike Reno's vocals (And I was here to please / I'm even on my knees / Makin' love to whoever I please), I remember "the sensational novel of a teen-age reign of terror."


Tuesday, July 18, 2006

a good day to be art

On Sunday, I went to the Royal Ontario Museum with a friend who was visiting Toronto. I try to be a tourist in my own city once in a while... I find it makes me stop taking my surroundings for granted.

It had been years since I had been to the ROM. There are extensive exhibits of art and artifacts from China, Japan, and Korea. They made me want to live more simply and drink green tea.

In the Déco Lalique exhibition, this piece caught my eye:

It's the "Martigues" charger with a beautiful fish design... its peacefulness seemed right at home, upstairs from the Buddha statues and Japanese tea sets.

artist: René Lalique

It was brutally hot on Sunday, so I welcomed the chance to be in a cool, dry place. It occurred to me that art gets to be in better air than a lot of people get to breathe.

And for a different take on things with Korean heritage, I finished off the night by re-watching Notorious C.H.O. featuring my hero, Margaret Cho.

Friday, July 14, 2006

battle of the sexes: summer business attire

To the woman who got on the 6 Bay bus (nearly empty) yesterday, sat in the back (where I was the only passenger), and opened the window (when the driver was considerate enough to have the air conditioning turned on, given the fact that it was hot and muggy outside):

  1. you could have sat somewhere else
  2. you're the type of woman that has a space heater under her office desk and uses it in July (when the power grid is groaning under threat of imminent collapse), aren't you?
  3. it could not have been less than 74°F inside that bus. Seriously... get your fucking glands checked or something.
  4. yes, bitch, after you get up to leave, I will close the window with an amount of force that will make you turn back around and look at me while you're exiting from the front fucking door and not the rear door like you're supposed to. That's exactly the kind of passive/agressive way I roll.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

au revoir les chevaux!

I can't stop laughing at the first 23 seconds of this trailer:

Monday, July 10, 2006

wildflowers picked yesterday

This is how I spent my Sunday afternoon in the country. (A "thank-you" goes to my sister-in-law for the use of her digital camera.)

Friday, July 07, 2006

We're WASPs. There's no talking.

I forgot to mention: at the wedding I attended, I did my usual trick of disappearing during the garter toss. (I fucking hate the garter toss.)

I have been at three weddings in under a year where my parents were also guests. Apparently, my vanishing act hasn't gone unnoticed.

Kill me. Kill me, now.

(No, I unfortunately haven't made any headway in the topic area mentioned at the end of this post several months ago.)

My friend "Greg" usually gets a voice message from me during the garter toss. Sorry, Greg. I couldn't find a phone this time.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

she wears Prada, and...

...has devious twin daughters. They get Anne Hathaway's character into a heap of trouble. The twins are redheads.

My people are so misunderstood and maligned...

Meryl is undescribably good as Miranda Priestly. Walking back from The Devil Wears Prada yesterday, my friend Peter said, "if someone told me that Meryl Streep could fly through the air like Superman, I'd believe it. I mean, she's Meryl Streep!"

Hate your boss? Go here and make a caricature of them. Try not to get fired (unless that's what you're after).

Thursday, June 29, 2006

scanned & presented for your amusement

Blogger shrinks the image a bit, so click here. (Depending on your browser, you may have to click again to magnify.) It's not crude and is totally SFW.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

I'm sure the Queen isn't amused

I watched Pop-Up Royals lastnight on CBC, and laughed 'till I cried. Scott Thompson does the most dementedly funny Queen Elizabeth II... he looks half-crazed.

I've tried to find old video from The Kids in the Hall where he portrays the Queen telling a little red-haired girl that she's evil and should jump into a lake. "Come on! There's candy at the bottom! Do it for England, dear!" Classic.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

b1tch was gayer than me

I had a good weekend. The wedding was fun; my cousin was a beautiful bride; the weather was great. I enjoyed breathing clean air for a change.

Brother of the groom: gay. Not my type, but he seemed nice enough. Their family sat at the table next to ours. Overheard during dinner: bitch flew to Chicago to see Madonna in concert.

Snap! Out-gayed.

(Not that I couldn't have won if I had tried. I can be really gay if I turn it on.)

Thursday, June 22, 2006

have fun at pride without me

For gay hubris day gay pride day 2004, I did my laundry. In 2005, I left the city for the weekend. This year, I'm flying to Winnipeg for a wedding.

One of these years, I hope to get back into a "pride mood." For now, I've had enough of:

  • the performance stage near my apartment that makes the building vibrate for 2 days
  • the crushing, gawking, flip-flop-wearing, sunscreen-slimy crowds
  • the overflowing portable toilets with the interminable lineups
  • the excessively cautious beer garden rules (also with interminable lineups)

    Here is a picture of me in 1997, when I had a great time at pride. (It should be noted that I didn't live right in the heart of Church/Wellesley then, so I had a place to "escape" to if I needed a time-out.) Who's that person next to me? I've digitally altered his appearance, but I can tell you that he might be one of my favourite "aunts."

    Have fun. Wear condoms. I'll see you Tuesday.
  • Wednesday, June 21, 2006


    I had a dream that all of the continents got mixed up. Earth was like a giant three-dimensional puzzle. I got into an argument with Sweden about the placement of something.

    The United States was no help at all--they just kept arranging North America so that their country was always angled perfectly toward the sun.

    Happy summer solstice...

    Monday, June 19, 2006

    personal hygiene 101

    Before leaving your domicile for the day, either brush your teeth or gargle with mouthwash.

    Morning breath in a confined space (like a subway car) is not pleasant. If you think your breath is o.k., you are wrong. Grab a toothbrush, fool.

    Friday, June 16, 2006

    I really have tried to check out of this hotel

    Streep Week continues with this gem from one of my all-time favourite movies, Postcards from the Edge (1990). The song Meryl performs ("I'm Checkin' Out") was nominated for an Academy Award that year.

    Unfortunately, the clip ends before you can see Meryl really let loose and have some fun with the stage band--Canada's Blue Rodeo. And don't worry about the darkness at the beginning... that's how it's shot.

    Thursday, June 15, 2006

    I didn't mind that Lindsay Lohan was in it

    I saw A Prairie Home Companion lastnight, and I was impressed with la Lohan. I'm going to have to rent Mean Girls and the Freaky Friday remake to get caught up on my fellow redhead. Here she is with Meryl:

    It was a treat to see Meryl Streep perform so many musical numbers. And her laugh! So melodic, so infectious...

    Oh, and Woody Harrelson should always wear a cowboy hat.

    Tuesday, June 13, 2006

    I plotzed (natch)

    After I posted the beefcake yesterday morning, a commercial came on the television. I heard "Jump" by Madonna and was treated to my first-ever viewing of the trailer for The Devil Wears Prada. Click on the link to see a clip. June 30th, people!

    I'm telling you; these are the little things that keep me going. I'm not kidding. Life is an endless montage of disappointment punctuated by moments (many involving the incomparable Meryl Streep) that give me the will to carry on. How will I make it to June 30th?
    A Prairie Home Companion with Peter on Wednesday (I hope).

    Monday, June 12, 2006

    hey guys...

    If you're shy about showering at the gym, you should know that you draw infinitely more attention to yourself when you shower in your underwear.

    Remember: the best place to hide something is in plain sight!

    Thursday, June 08, 2006

    the "what planet am I on?" news roundup

    From start to finish, June 7 2006 was a day when I literally couldn't believe the news I was reading and hearing. It started with American Morning and a story that nearly caused me to burn myself with the iron. Unfortunately, that segment of the show is the only one that hasn't been transcripted on the website, but you can read about the story in The Kansas City Star.

    The short-lived gay marriage debate in the U.S. Senate provided this little gem from an incredibly hateful man:
    SEN. RICK SANT0RUM (R), PENNSYLVANIA: If marriage is not about one man and one woman for the purpose of a relationship of which to have children and continue the society, then... if it's about two women or two men, why not two women and three men? Why not whatever arrangement? If gender doesn't matter anymore, why does number matter? What's the significance?
    Hi Rick. I would love to see you forcibly married to a horse--but only if you were the passif one in the partnership.

    On the evening surf, I laughed along with The Daily Show audience when Oklahoma senator Imhofe was shown holding up a picture of his family of approximately 20 children and grandchildren... with "no divorces" and "no homosexual relationships" among them.

    On Nightline, I watched an interview with two cute M0rm0n gay guys who discussed their eventual excommunication. One of them talked about missing the structure and routine of the church, and its plethora of "manuals" that pretty much lay everything out for you so that you "don't have to make a lot of decisions." Wow. I now understand the appeal of joining a cult. I know I've struggled with a lot of decisions.

    I don't normally watch Inside Edition, but their story on the Washington State customs officer who stopped the would-be "Millennium Bomber" in 1999 caught my attention. The "reporter" actually used the phrase "evil terrorist." I guess people in trailer parks have even more of a reason to hate Canada now. Thankfully, the capture of al-Zarqawi will distract them.

    Tuesday, June 06, 2006

    area code splitting: the true number of the beast

    I don't like area code splitting. I think it's the work of the devil. EVIL! EVIL! I have a head for numbers--I remember nearly every phone number I've ever had--and I was pretty good at knowing which major North American cities were served by which area codes. Those days are long-gone.

    A few years ago, I saw an article in The Atlantic Monthly explaining the origin and planning of area codes. With rotary-dial phones, the easiest area codes to dial were the ones with the least amount of finger travel. Here is a picture of a phone in my office. According to Peter, I use it for "points emergencies."

    The biggest metropolitan areas were given the best codes. So, New York City got 212, the Los Angeles area got 213, Chicago 312...

    This of course means that San Francisco (415) was better than Toronto (416), and that Toronto was better than Springfield Missouri (417).*

    Eventually, area codes were expanded to include zero as a middle digit. Dialing zero on a rotary dial phone took about an hour. People often died while trying to reach an operator in an emergency.* Thank goodness for touch-tone.

    In time, thanks to a lot of poseurs, teenaged girls, and drug dealers, we had about forty trillion cell phones and pagers. Add in the anal-retentive, squatting phone companies, and we soon exhausted our area codes. We incorporated digits 2 through 8 (9 is being reserved for future phone numbers that will be about the same length as pi) into the middle digit of wonky splits and overlays--and we're still running out of numbers. I don't know where the fuck I'm calling anymore. Fuckers.

    * just kidding

  • wicked cool animation of the proliferation of area codes
  • area code map of Canada
  • area code map of the U.S.
  • the good ol' days
  • the North American Numbering Plan (NANP)
  • A Tale of Two Springfields
  • Friday, June 02, 2006

    Wednesday, May 31, 2006

    I can't breathe

    The provincial government of Ontario is legislating the living fuck right out of the public smoking issue. Meanwhile, government at the federal level (environment), provincial level (health, highways), and municipal level (public health, transit, parking) stand around doing nothing as we breathe disgustingly polluted and filthy air for the third day in a row.

    I can always choose not to enter a restaurant or bar where I'll be faced with second-hand cigarette smoke. I can't always choose to flee my city when the air becomes a toxic soup of chemicals.

    NOW Magazine published a great article last summer with 10 ideas on what we can do to fight smog. Give it a read. If you need me, I'll be sucking on a tailpipe trying to breathe.

    Monday, May 29, 2006

    good morning Toronto

    Here's how some of us had to get to work today--with a smog advisory in place from Environment Canada:

    To the union leaders of the Toronto Transit Commission: whatever public sympathy you had was already hanging by a thread. This morning's illegal walkout just ran that thread through bleach.

    Meanwhile, I'm going to try and find one of these for the walk home:

    Friday, May 26, 2006

    Happy Birthday Stevie!

    I've loved her voice for almost as long as I can remember... from the light tone of her lead vocal in Fleetwood Mac's "Rhiannon" (1975) to her lower register in later solo work like "Trouble in Shangri-La" (2001). I had a hard time deciding which song to clip for this post. I decided on "Whenever I Call You Friend" (recorded in 1978 with Kenny Loggins).

    for more on Stevie, click here

    Thursday, May 25, 2006


    For your appreciation... inspired by the last post... Nat's husband...


    Tuesday, May 23, 2006

    the Chicks are back!

    HMV released the new Dixie Chicks album today. (I had the date marked in my calendar... couldn't wait to buy it!)

    I had time tonight to play the first seven songs, and the group's hellish experiences in 2003 are starkly evident.

    From "Lubbock or Leave it" (Robison/Maguire/Maines/Campbell):
    Throwin' stones from the top of your rock
    Thinkin' no one can see
    The secrets you hide behind
    Your southern hospitality

    But my favourite lyric is from the first single, "Not Ready To Make Nice" (Robison/Maguire/Maines/Wilson):
    I made my bed and I sleep like a baby
    With no regrets and I don't mind sayin'
    It's a sad sad story when a mother will teach her
    Daughter that she ought to hate a perfect stranger
    And how in the world can the words that I said
    Send somebody so over the edge
    That they'd write me a letter sayin' that I better
    Shut up and sing or my life will be over

    I love my Chicks!

    Monday, May 22, 2006

    Happy Birthday, Queen Victoria

    This Cagaydian is glad he had a holiday today in your honour. And he tries not to immediately associate your reign with the "ring" named after your late husband; rather, he pictures pretty Victorian houses in Cabbagetown with lilacs in full bloom.

    I had a great week. I exercised five times--a frequency I haven't seen in years--and feel a lot better. I lost a pound, but losing weight isn't my primary focus. (Indeed, I should hope that my activities* built up some muscle mass, thereby reducing the net loss of weight.) I'm sleeping better, more alert in the morning, eating less, and not feeling so guilty about "wasting" the gym membership.

    Oh, and if you haven't seen the movie in the picture, I highly recommend it.

    * swimming, resistance training, cardio, swimming, resistance training

    Monday, May 15, 2006

    taking a week off

    During a nap yesterday at my parents' house, I woke up with a pang of anxiety and realized how much money I'm wasting on my gym membership (considering that I never go). A quick check in my 2005 planner confirms that my last visit to the gym was exactly six months ago today. (Blogging started about 8.5 months ago.)

    This means I've wasted $545.70. Something's gotta give. So, for a week, I'm going to attempt to cut blogging out of my life and insert exercise in its place. With any luck, I'll be able to reintroduce blogging once I'm burning fuel more efficiently and sleeping more soundly.

    Friday, May 12, 2006

    golden horseshoe meets the rustbelt

    I checked three sources (wikipedia, a U.S. Census Bureau map, and Business Week) and it would seem fair to conclude that Indianapolis is either in or on the fringes of the rust belt.

    On Wednesday, indygirl listed a miscellany of facts... among them:

    FACT: If you blog, there is a 90% chance that you either live in Toronto or Indianapolis.

    Let's all try and think of some other similarities between Toronto and Indianapolis!
  • both are capitals (provincial/state)
  • Indy has hoosiers; Toronto has hosers (JAJAJAJAJA!)
  • both cities have NBA teams

    Here's the biggest difference I can see:
  • Indianapolis is just about dead-centre in the middle of the state; Toronto thinks it's in the dead-centre of Ontario (much to the annoyance of people in other parts of the province)
  • Wednesday, May 10, 2006

    what I feel like today

    I didn't sleep very well lastnight. Or the two nights before that. I'm so overtired that I'm slurring my words and tripping over my own feet. It took me two and a half hours to get myself to work this morning--only to find that I couldn't unlock the door. (I had brought my laundry card instead of my i.d. card...)

    All... systems... shutting...

    Monday, May 08, 2006

    Happy Birthday Auntie

    Today is the birthday of Your Judgemental Aunt. Here's a little song for you, bizzatch! ("Happy Birthday" by Concrete Blonde)

    Outside in the hall there’s a catfight
    It’s just after midnight
    I guess I’ll be alright
    I’m laid out on the floor
    Drunk and poor
    How much longer how much more?

    Rock me to sleep
    Strong and deep
    The screaming cats they give me the creeps
    But aside from all that I feel no pain
    Staring up at the ceiling stain

    Neon in the window
    Sirens far away
    News on the radio
    Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday

    They’re at it again next door
    This whole floor I swear
    They’re out to drive me crazy
    But not right now I’m high as a cloud
    I’m soft and gray and lazy
    Smokin' out the window
    Feelin' far away
    News on the radio
    Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday

    Fly me out the window
    Somewhere far away
    News on the radio
    Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday
    Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday

    Thursday, May 04, 2006

    clarification: I am not a MTF transsexual

    I am not planning on having this done:

    I loved their movie characters, but I do not aspire to be one:

    And despite a certain "Swiffering" incident in 2003...

    ...I have no designs on becoming:

    Tuesday, May 02, 2006

    out the bus window

    This morning, I looked out the window of the bus and saw a beautiful Mercedes C-class sedan in the next lane. I studied the graceful curve of the rear door frame (where it meets the C pillar)... it seemed almost organic. Divinely designed. The sun glinted off the deep metallic paint...

    I don't know why, but I was instantly reminded of a trip to Sandbanks Provincial Park in the summer of 2001. I was with my (then) boyfriend, and we didn't drive there in a Mercedes.

    Monday, May 01, 2006

    Pieces of Enchanted, Tragic April

    I've never really liked April. Specifically, I don't like spring--but it manifests itself as an anti-April bias.

    The light in April can be really harsh: you have the sunlight angle of August, without the softening effects of foliage. The ground can be muddy, and it reveals all sorts of winter-buried treasure like dog poo and corpses of small animals.

    In university, I detested April because of the stress of final exams and overdue papers. Later in life, I got fired from a job, and lost two grandparents--all in a 10-day stretch of April.

    Easter often falls in April. As a child, I perceived the holiday as a big disconnect: we're observing the death of Christ by painting eggs in beautiful pastel colours and eating chocolate.

    I'm always glad when it's over.

    see also:
    "The tragic month of April" Wikipedia entry

    Friday, April 28, 2006

    the drum beats out of time

    Ever notice how the cursor on a computer, or the turn signal in your car (or its windshield wipers--except in Eddie Rabbit songs)... ever notice how they never quite seem to match the beat of the song playing? You'll be fooled for a few seconds--hey, they're in sync!--but then it gradually moves out of phase.

    Wednesday, April 26, 2006

    last-ditch Gay-lileo plan

    What if I quit my job, sold the car, lived on my nest egg, and devoted the bulk of my time to getting back into shape? Could I land a rich husband?

    I had this thought recently. Immediately, it made me think of my favourite Star Trek episode, The Galileo Seven. Spock is in command of the Galileo shuttlecraft, which is in trouble after a crash-landing. The crew have managed to get back into space, but a lack of fuel leaves them with few options. The Enterprise cannot divert from its course to fully search for them, and is about to stop scanning. Spock dumps and ignites Galileo's fuel, which has the effect of creating a huge distress flare. The Enterprise picks it up and saves the Galileo's crew, just as the powerless shuttle begins to plummet back to the planet.

    "Mr. Spock, that was a good gamble--perhaps it was worth it," says Scott.

    Monday, April 24, 2006

    I'm gonna (cashew) nut...

    This is Dane Cook, and when I saw him on SNL talking about having an amazing erecti0n--one that he was very proud of, and that lasted even as he walked into his kitchen, placed a cashew nut on the tip, and flicked it up into his open mouth--I practically crawled into my television set screaming "I love cashews!"

    Thursday, April 20, 2006

    to the gay guy on the 509/510 to Union Station, evening of 4/19/2006

    (subtitle: too much self-confidence)

    we all heard you talking

    "Omigod! I can't stand her! She's so trailer-park!"

    "yip yip gay yip
    bla gay bla bla
    like like like flaming"

    some of us continued to hear you talking on the subway platform at Union

    some of us were quite far away

    your hairdo made your head look like it had just been pulled from a birth canal

    nice Von Dutch purse

    it sure was bright down there in the subway, wasn't it?
    good thing you had your jLo shades

    oh, and Vinnie Barbarino called
    he needs his jeans back

    if you saw me staring, it was just because I was willing (with my imagination, à la Joan Allen's character in The Upside of Anger) your head to explode, or for you to trip on your Euro-techno-sneakers and fall in front of the train

    the driver would've had to activate the windscreen wiper

    it would have been decidedly not "glam"

    Wednesday, April 19, 2006

    j0rg3 Googled r0ug3... real nice and slow

    George Larson got a bit Google-ey tonight and found some art with the same title as my Blogger handle. This resulted from a gmail exchange we had about the name "Ennis." During this exchange, j0rg3 told me to "think like an American moron." I'm going to assume that he intended not to put a comma after the word American.

    An American might not have the same deference to authority (or copyright law) that I do as a Canadian. So here are some screen-captures of George's findings:

    - for a reference to the artists' work, click on the pictures and view the url in the address window of the screen caps
    - yes, I realize that writing this footnote makes me a rule-obeying Canadian

    Monday, April 17, 2006

    movie review: An Unfinished Life

    Not since Matthew McConaughey played a cop in Boys on the Side has a police officer in a movie turned me on as much as Josh Lucas in An Unfinished Life.

    That's it. Josh Lucas=hot. End of review.

    Thursday, April 13, 2006

    The Simpsons episode 8F16

    Alright, commenters, message received. Keep an upbeat attitude. Go on a date. And laugh...

    Lisa: Maybe we should write her another letter. One that says goodbye, but lets her feel loved.

    Homer: Step aside everyone! Sensitive love letters are my specialty. (Homer rips off a sheet of paper and starts writing.)
    "Dear Baby,
    Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: you."

    Wednesday, April 12, 2006

    the m4m trifecta and me

    This post is an expansion on why I cried last Friday. It also explains why I dread Valentine's Day.

    The m4m* players:

    "C" - looks very much like me, except shorter. Works near me; we sometimes bump into each other. Nothing ever happened.

    "L" - I actually met (& slept) with him some years back. I was crushing; him--not so much. We lost touch after he moved away.

    "K" - probably one of my top 5 "Internet meets" (not meat)... could not be more my type

    Valentine's Day 2005: I'm getting coffee across the street. C is also getting coffee, and surprise! He's with L. I ask L when he got back to Toronto, and find out that he "moved back for this guy." (He points to C.)

    Summer 2005: While on a Church Street patio, I see someone who looks very much like K. Since I've only met K online, I find an appropriate moment and introduce myself. "Hey, I thought you looked familiar, too" he says. We chat. I find that looking directly at him is like staring into a bi-xenon headlight. He reveals that he's not single.

    Winter 2006: back in the infamous coffee place across the street, I run into C again. This time, he's with K. WTF?

    April 7 2006 (morning): C gets on my bus and sits by me. We chat. He stayed over at L's lastnight. I try not to picture the sex. I casually bring up K, and learn that C and K have known each other for many years. C hired K (this is a company that did not respond to my application a few years back), which is why I saw them together a few weeks ago. I mention how I know K (it's cool... C and I have sent each other naked pictures... why not?). I find out that K is still "not single."

    Ready for the knife-to-the-heart? I wasn't.

    Says C: "K's boyfriend is tall like you--maybe a bit taller--and has almost the same hair colour as you. Isn't that funny?"

    No, it's not.

    I get nothing. Perfecta? Trifecta? NOFECTA.

    * m4m is a gay hook-up website

    Tuesday, April 11, 2006

    "gifts" from Peter

    Too Busy Living likes to give me things that stress me out, make me laugh, or clutter my apartment. Sometimes, the idea backfires on him (as was the case with my trickle Zen fountain, which I still have and use); sometimes, I refuse to take the items with me and they end up getting used by the donor (as was the case with the "Hello Kitty" slippers).

    These three books* were donated to the library in my building's laundry room. The family scrapbook was gone by the time my clothes were dry.

    These items are still looking for a good home:

    * Peter, I removed the pages you inscribed and saved them. I'm not totally heartless.