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Today was a lovely day, made all the more special by the fact that it was my birthday. Normally I don’t care about birthdays all that much, certainly not enough to blog about them, but my husband got me some really nice gifts and I wanted to share.

I have wanted this book for years, but it’s kind of insanely expensive, especially up here in Canada. I’ve seen it marked down to a “still-expensive- just-not-quite-so” price every now and again, but never when I had any disposable income at hand. Well now I can cease my pining, because it is MINE! I spent a couple hours today poring over the pretty colour plates. I have big plans for this book, but I won’t get into what they are just yet. It’s a secret.

Here is an example of what is inside.

I also received a copy of Sensual Knits, a book of knitting patterns that I’ve been coveting for awhile as well. The book is worth it for the sweater on the cover alone, but there are a few other things inside that I would like to make as well.

Then I opened up a box of Godiva chocolates, and an Elvis CD box set. I didn’t get a picture of the Elvis box set, so you will have to make do with this picture:

Afterwards, it was lunchtime. Chris had got me sushi, which he doesn’t like at all, so he had to make do with leftover pizza. I dont’ think he minded though. Then I spent the afternoon sitting on the couch perusing through my books, eating chocolate, knitting a sock and watching Dr. Doolittle. The original. Not the one with Eddie Murphy.

All in all, it was a lovely day!

A meme.

The Rules:

1. Pick up the nearest book of 123 (or more) pages.

thud.jpg

Thud!” Terry Pratchett

2. Open the book to page 123 and find the 3rd sentence.

Once you had a good excuse, you opened the door to bad excuses.


3. Post the next 5 sentences.

He had nightmares about being too late. He had a lot of nightmares about Young Sam. They involved empty cots, and darkness. It had all been too … good. In a few short years he, Sam Vimes, had gone up in the world like a balloon.


4. Tag 5 people.

Boo, Madmouse, Tah, Neo and LaMa. Well, everyone really :P

Moving Day

Okay, well I decided that I hated blogger and have decided to move my blog (such as it is) over to wordpress.  The images are messed up, but I can’t be arsed to go back and fix them, so you guys will just have to overlook the mess on my past postings. :)

Now that it’s time
Now that the hour hand has landed at the end
Now that it’s real
Now that the dreams have given all they had to lend
I want to know do I stay or do I go
And maybe try another time
And do I really have a hand in my forgetting ?

Now that I’ve tried
Now that I’ve finally found that this is not the way,
Now that I turn
Now that I feel it’s time to spend the night away
I want to know do I stay or do I go
And maybe finally split the rhyme
And do I really understand the undernetting ?

Yes and the morning has me
Looking in your eyes
And seeing mine warning me
To read the signs carefully.

Now that it’s light
Now that the candle’s falling smaller in my mind
Now that it’s here
Now that I’m almost not so very far behind
I want to know do I stay or do I go
And maybe follow another sign
And do I really have a song that I can ride on ?

Now that I can
Now that it’s easy, ever easy all around.
Now that I’m here
Now that I’m falling to the sunlights and a song
I want to know do I stay or do I go
And do I have to do just one
And can I choose again if I should lose the reason ?

Yes, and the morning
Has me looking in your eyes
And seeing mine warning me
To read the signs more carefully.

Now that I smile,
Now that I’m laughing even deeper inside.
Now that I see,
Now that I finally found the one thing I denied
It’s now I know do I stay or do I go
And it is finally I decide
That I’ll be leaving
In the fairest of the seasons.

I got books!!

I finally had an opportunity to sneak out sans toddler to the second hand bookstore that I absolutely love! It’s not easy because it’s not the kind of place I can bring her too without her wreaking havoc in the store, and they have this frustrating knack of being closed the scarce times that I actually have a little money to spend and my husband is home to watch her.

I had tried going over Labour Day weekend, but alas, they were closed. Not so this weekend. The planets finally all aligned for me and I was able to spend a couple hours perusing the overflowing shelves of Sunrise Books at long last. I love the smell of old books, they really need to market it as a room spray or maybe as a perfume by that company who makes scents of odd smells, like Playdoh and dirt.

Here are my spoils:


I’ve been craving Sci-fi lately. I’m a fan of the genre, but so much out there is absolutely dreadful, that I tend to rely on the recommendations of respected peers. Both Transfrmr and Tah had urged me to read the Xanth series by Piers Anthony, so that was the main goal of my outing.

Ideally, I’d rather start with the first book of the series, but since this is a second hand shop, I had to make do with what was there. I picked up two Xanth books: Crewel Lye, and Centaur Aisle. I also grabbed another Anthony title - Gods of Tarot. I haven’t read them yet, so no opinions at the moment.

These aren’t terrible, but I can’t tell you how many times I look at the covers of Fantasy/Sci-Fi books and have an overwhelming urge to redesign them.


I love the cover of this one. It’s so cheesy 70’s. It reminds me of disco roller skating rinks and those rainbow striped knee socks with the toes in them. Those socks creeped me right out.


Keeping on the Sci-fi theme, I also picked up a favorite author of mine - Phillip K. Dick. I’ve read almost all his books, but the one that keeps eluding me, oddly enough, is Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Yes, the one Blade Runner was based on. The one that is arguably his best known novel. For some strange reason, it’s never in the bookstores when I’m looking for it, and I have yet to find it even in the library. Well, no more! I finally found it. They actually had three copies of it.

I read it last night. Let’s just say that it would be more accurate to say the movie was “inspired” by the book as opposed to being based on it, lol. Not that I would let that little fact ever diminish my love for the film.

I also picked up a copy of Under the Net by Iris Murdoch, one of my favorite authors:

and Sons and Lovers by D.H. Lawrence:

This should keep me satisfied for maybe a week. :)

Perchance to Dream…

One day I will have a house in Oregon. Or Maine.

It doesn’t have to be a big house, but it has to be either in the forest or on the beach — and it has to have a spiral staircase that goes up through a shaft that is lined with bookshelves.

My bedroom ceiling will be painted with stars.

And every Sunday, when the weather allows, I will go outside and take a bath in my purple bathtub whilst eating Eggs Benedict…

…and listening to Edith Piaf…

In New York, on almost every corner there is a bodega. In the Korean ones especially, you’d find flowers lined outside on the sidewalk under the awning. For a few weeks each Spring, they would sell daffodils, and there would be great bunches of them stuffed into those big white plastic buckets. Five gallon paint buckets maybe, or perhaps the kind that joint compound comes in, I don’t know. The ones with the handles.

The sight of those daffodils each year always captivated me. I would get really excited, and buy giant armfuls of them to take home and stuff into every conceivable fancy thing I owned that could pass as a vase. Silver pitchers, porcelain teapots, those vintage glass coffee carafes that hostesses in the 50’s would serve from, the coffee warmed by a tea light when not in use (I used to collect those). Anything.

However, something just wasn’t the same with them when I brought them home. I wouldn’t necessarily say I was dissatisfied with how they looked, but I didn’t get the same kind of feeling looking at them festooned around my apartment as I did when I would see them on the sidewalk - haphazardly shoved into a filthy, scuffed up bucket.

When I would chance upon them on the street, their yellow eyes winking up at me through the dappled sunlight from the awning, I would be filled with such a longing. For what, I couldn’t tell you, but the feeling would be so intense that I sometimes felt like my heart would burst, just from looking at them. It wasn’t sadness though, oh no. Quite the opposite actually. Back in my apartment, they were still as beautiful, but something intangible was lost in the transition from bodega sidewalk to coffee table, piano top, and nightstand.

I think what it was is that on the street they had a sort of accidental beauty in the careless way they were displayed, which was disrupted when I would bring them home.

And that is why I don’t buy daffodils anymore. I just enjoy them when and wherever I chance upon them.

Evil Nettie!!

I’ve been pinged!! Ahhhhh!!

Okay, so I’m supposed to come up with a list of things I can’t live without. Well, I have to admit that I find the timing of such a task to be rather….interesting. See, as many of you know, I lost all my worldly goods when I moved to Canada. Everything. Even my cats :(. It’s a long story, but basically I left all my goods, as well as my apartment, in the hands of a friend of mine whom I had known for 15 years and thought I could trust. He was to take over my lease and in exchange for the absolute coup of getting an amazing rent controlled Manhattan apartment, he was to watch my things until I reached a point in immigration where I could move them without paying duty. However, he instead sold/threw out everything and hightailed it to Los Angeles. I never found out what he did with my cats, something tells me I don’t want to know. I also never found out WHY he did what he did. All he had to do was explain the situation, whatever it was, and I would have figured something out.

Obviously, this was a complete blow to me, especially since I didn’t find out about it until way after the fact. He had kept his old cell number with the NYC area code so I thought he was still there, and there were times we spoke when he had already moved and pretended he was still living in my apartment.

This happened awhile ago now, but it’s been on my mind lately now that some of the anger and hurt over it has subsided somewhat. The whole experience has taught me a valuable lesson about the values placed (misplaced perhaps?) on material possessions. I don’t consider myself to be a superficial or materialistic person, but I realized that I do tend to get emotionally attached to my belongings. This probably has something to do with the fact that I don’t really have a tangible “personal history”. Therefore I think I had been trying to provide myself one, something I could actually touch, things I identify with and which could be passed on and shared with others. A sort of “defining my essence” by way of the things that I own that are displayed for all who know me. Things have sentimental meaning to me, maybe too much. They are physical reminders of memories, or even better, the energy of people and places that are gone or passed.

If I were asked to make this list five years ago it would probably be quite different than it is today. I will only include things that I currently own, either from acquiring them within the past five years or the few things that I managed to sneak across the border in various care packages or in my suitcase :)

1. My wee little musicbox. It’s maybe 3 cms square, a simple embossed metal box with a small wind up key. It plays the theme from Love Story. I think it was originally meant to be on a keychain, but the little ring is long gone. I found it in a junk shop for pennies. It makes me really happy even though I tend to burst into tears when I play it. Music boxes are so wistful sounding, it just breaks my heart! But in a good way, of course. :)

2. A brass plaque with the word “Chapel” on it in raised letters. Wow, I wish I had a camera. One is coming relatively soon, so maybe I’ll go back in and put some pictures of these things back into this post. This is a plaque given to me by an old dear friend of mine, Bruce. There is a good chance Bruce may be dead, although I don’t know for certain. He was a terrible alcoholic and dropped out of my life around 1994. We used to be roommates though, before he got really bad, and in some ways, although we were just only and ever friends, he was kind of my first love. I know that doesn’t make sense, so just take my word for it, okay? :) He brought it home for me one day, I think he pried it off of a church somewhere. I found it in the basement a few months ago, which surprised me because I don’t remember bringing it here. In fact, this was one of the specific things I was sick over losing, so finding it buried in a box felt like winning the lottery that day.

3. Five pressed four leaf clovers. I found these in a cloth bound Victorian version of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales that I bought from Gryphon Bookshop within days of arriving in NYC. There was a love note written in the front of the book dated 1887 and various snips of romantic things written in the columns. It captured my imagination, so when I found the clovers inside as well, I arranged them in a frame in honor of these two long gone lovers. I like to think they had picked them together, maybe while picnicking somewhere beautiful in England, or maybe somewhere misty in Scotland.

4. A picture of my father from the late 40’s/early 50’s when he was a fireman in NYC. He’s standing outside the station in front of the truck with the rest of his ladder company. It’s just an amazing picture and I am so proud of him that he was so brave. His career as a fireman was a short lived one due to health problems, but I know it was the job he held most dear and nothing he did afterwards was ever his “career”. He was and will always be a fireman at heart.

5. My X-Men watch. The battery is dead, and my husband fux0rd the wristband, but I still treasure it. Back in the early 90’s there was a company that offered a (pricey!) subscription where you signed up and you would get a new X-Men watch every couple months. I think there were six in total, I don’t remember. Unfortunately, that big earthquake out in San Francisco put them out of business so I only ended up with the first one. It’s a replica of the the cover of X-Men #1, and it came in a little diecast model of the original Blackbird, which ironically was…purple.

Okay, I think five is enough, don’t you? Now this is the part where I get to ping people to do this too, eh? Okay…

I ping….

Neo!

and Tah!

I don’t know anyone else with a blog who hasn’t already been pinged, sorry.

Dear Classic Rock Radio Stations,

Surely with 50+ years of rock n’ roll history you can find some other songs to play by these esteemed legends, instead of assaulting my ears with hourly repetitions of Stairway to Heaven, Hotel California, and Light My Fire, no?

Also, I love Pink Floyd’s The Wall as much as anyone, but I’m quite sure my ears will bleed if I have to hear Another Brick in the Wall one more time.

In addition, you should take note that I can quite happily spend the rest of my life without having to hear Sweet Home Alabama…Ever. Again.

I’d even hazard a guess that the artists who created these songs are quite sick to death of them too. I’m starting to think that the fundies had the right idea with their record burnings and all that, but for different reasons.

Sincerely Yours,
MadCarlotta

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