The siege is over.

It's done. My children's room is clean. It's clean because I finished cleaning it, mind you. But my contribution to cleaning it was scooping up everything that was left on the floor and putting it in the laundry room downstairs, so it's all up for grabs for the other people in the building (more than likely that spooky family down the hall from me -- apparently their apartment is full of stuff gleaned from the laundry room).

So yeah, four grocery bags full of toys and clothes, and one of garbage. Did my kids bat an eye? Nope. Sigh. Oh well, if I do that enough times that it starts to seriously deplete their supply of toys, it'll start to matter to them. Either that or it will be a signal to me that I don't need to buy them quite so much stuff. 

REJECT MATERIALISM NOW KIDS!

Not only have they lost a bunch of toys, but a lot of their privileges have been taken away. I'm pretty sure there are prisoners in Guantanamo Bay who have more privileges than my kids do right now. No TV (that wasn't a punishment, we just don't have one right now), no computer, no treats, no colouring (not since Tierney coloured her pillow and wall).

yeah. Go motherhood.

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Does anyone know a chinese, or arabic symbol for good health? Getting a tattoo probably next week, and I have a design picked out that incorporates a chinese symbol in it and the symbol in this is supposed to represent strength or power, which was cool when I designed it (right after the boy and I split) but I think health would be a better talisman for me now.

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I'm reading a book called "Useful Idiots" which is a criticism of liberal views of the cold war. It's making want to gouge my eyes out for reading such a bunch of shit. But still I read on.

I'm Old.

I had a bowl of Lucky Charms last night and it was kind of gross. There actually seemed to be TOO MANY marshmallows. Is that depressing or WHAT?

Dismantle Me

Had a fairly decent day today. Last day of classes for the summer, so I am off for about 3 weeks. Had a really nice talk with Joe on the way down to Barrie from Orillia. Fuck I'm gonna miss that guy when he leaves for the military. Definitely one of the most interesting people I have met at school. It's gonna be difficult, that's for sure. But life goes on.

Got myself up the nerve to ask out the Devils fan from the store (see blog from last weekend -- the one where I lose my kids). Went to his place of work just before dinner time -- before the rush -- ordered me a fish and chip combo, and asked who was working in the kitchen, and the waitress told me DF was working so she went and got him.

DF: Hey trouble, how're you doing?
Me: Well I was driving around Barrie, with a hankering for some fish and chips, and I recalled somebody telling me about this little seafood place, so here I am
DF: so what brings you here?
Me: Wanted to ask you something, are you dating anyone
DF: me? nooooo. *shakes head
Me: Would you like to go out sometime?

At which point he told me no, he was staying single, swore off after a particular messy breakup. I told him that was unfortunate but I understand the sentiment. He said he was concentrating on his kid and his job. Fair enough. Sounded reasonable, I didn't get the feeling I was being fed a line or anything.

So, disappointing as that was, I shall live to see another day.

Hung out with Sammi and Krystle tonight, which was cool, a little 'girls' night. Plan was to head to Karaoke at The Simcoe, but when we got there they told me I couldn't come in with my Timmies, so Sammi and I waited outside for Krystle, until a drunk woman (seriously, and it was only 9) came out and accosted us for being on the step of the place, because that was for the 'smokers'. So I said, "fine, I'll have a smoke then." Then we walked around to my car to wait there, because the drunk woman was freakin' me out, but not nearly as much as it did when she came around the corner and started squatting at the side of the building

Sammi: Is that woman peeing on the street?
Me: If she is, she forgot a very important step, cuz she's still got her pants on.
Sammi: Oh god look at the ground. And her ass is wet.
Me: I don't wanna go here anymore.

So we didn't. We hit Starbucks and offended some people with our loud boisterous discussion about hard core porn fetishes. You know, girlie stuff :-P Anyway it was pretty good time. When I got home, I took the bandaid off my stitches, and they started bleeding like a motherfucker, so I drove myself over to the ER to have them inform me that no, I didn't pop any of the stitches, no they aren't infected and no, they probably won't be ready to come out on thursday. Volleyball and swimming amongst other things probably weren't the best idea though. Now it's crazy late, but this was a bloggable sort of day, so I wanted to get it down while it was fresh. Now I go sleepy bye.

P.S. The mosquitos ate me alive Sunday night. It hurts.

My Sister...

...throws the best fucking parties I have ever been to!!

I think the experience of a Nicky party can be summed up in three and a half words:

NAKED SLIP N SLIDE!!!

I didn't partake in the wet naked fun myself, but I had fun taking pictures. 

Which isn't to say that I totally behaved myself, but imma spare the details to protect the innocent, and not so innocent.

Good times, good times.

This Restless Heart

I've been listening to Metric and reading Chuck Klosterman again. I've discovered that this is a bad combination as I'm finding myself restless and yearning for the open road. 

I'm possibly at another crossroads, and I feel that the next year is going to involve a lot of changes, as old friends move away and new friends are made (hopefully).

I find myself randomly entering addresses into Google Maps and (which has replaced my beloved, if tattered road map of Ontario). I find myself wanting to write and write and write, and converse with strangers in strange places and sleep in my car and swim in lakes off the side of the road.

I think of my favourite book The Watch That Ends the Night and Montreal calls to me for reasons unknown, although I'm sure Montreal of 2006 differs greatly from the Depression era montreal that MacLennan wrote of. But the idea of being in a place where I will only be able to communicate coherently with a certain portion of the population appeals to me. 

I want to document my trip and decide what to do with the finished product. Sell the rights? Destroy it? Lock it up in a safe deposit box, to be opened on the event of my eventual death?

My mother suggests I take my grandmother with me. My grandma is super fun, but I'm not sure how enthusiastic she would be with the neo-bohemian approach that I am considering. That's the problem with being a normally play-it-safe kind of girl... When I want to be spontaneous, I kind of go all out. 

Up until this week I was in a great place for hitting hotels and casinos and playing cards and shopping (which is the kind of vacation I would like to do with my grandma) but this roaming instinct has hit me with all the force of a Mac Truck, and I am feeling the need for isolation and being one with the road and all that rot... meeting interesting characters... having Hunter S Thompson type misadventures (minus the drugs though, but thats just me).

I want to visit places I have heard about in songs by Stompin' Tom or the Tragically hip.

I think I want to write a book.

But that is something for another time, as my children are hungry, and I am soon to find myself awash in dirty dishes and hot dogs and Kraft Dinner.

My domestic reality beckons. As my friend just put it... I should get back to doing the 'Mom' thing.

This Restless Heart, Part Two.

Firstly I gotta say...

TV!! SWEET MOTHER OF GOD HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU! 

OK, so I have mulled over the vacation thing and I'm gonna do the Montreal road trip thing (with stops in Ottawa and Kingston me thinks) on my own (or with any friend who might like to come along and be all hippie beatnick with me), and then when my OSAP comes in September, I'll take Grandma Ruth down to Niagara Falls for some touristy good fun.

Again, have I mentioned how much I miss TV?

NORM!!

Goodbye Norman, you useless waste of flesh.

I'll always have the scar to remember you by.

The Not-So-Italian Job

Just woke up from bizarre dream that was some bizarre cross between the Italian Job and I dunno.. Mean Girls or something. 

I can't describe too much of it, because for some reason my memory of the dream is being neurologically disrupted by random lines from Metric's Police and the Private (or whatever it's called. Thanks Sammi and Lori lol)

I remember something about money and someone putting a stop to 'your precious waterfront project'. Then a lot of stoned teenagers embarking on a high speed chase through downtown toronto, and crashing. Then some chick standing up saying we're gonna do things differently, and starts talking about people she knew in highschool that she made fun of who really just had weird emotional disorders. One was a woman who she had said "had 'Male ______ (Flattery? Fixation?), and wasn't just a 'dyke bitch whore'" Oh yeah, and the Metric playing really loud over the dream.

Back to bed I go.

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Oh yeah, power went out here for about 2 hours. Was having August 2003 flashbacks, if you know what I mean.

The Not-So-Italian Job

Just woke up from bizarre dream that was some bizarre cross between the Italian Job and I dunno.. Mean Girls or something. 

I can't describe too much of it, because for some reason my memory of the dream is being neurologically disrupted by random lines from Metric's The Police and The Private (or whatever it's called. Thanks Sammi and Lori.)

I remember something about money and someone putting a stop to 'your precious waterfront project'. Then a lot of stoned teenagers embarking on a high speed chase through downtown Toronto, and crashing. Then some chick standing up saying "We're gonna do things differently!" and starts talking about people she knew in high school that she made fun of who really just had weird emotional disorders. One was a woman who she had said "had 'Male ______ (Flattery? Fixation?), and wasn't just a 'dyke bitch whore'" Oh yeah, and the Metric playing really loud over the dream.

Back to bed I go.

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Oh yeah, power went out here for about 2 hours. Was having August 2003 flashbacks, if you know what I mean.

Brain Boogers

If there is any smell in the world that makes me want to yak my breakfast up, it's fresh watermelon.

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Apparently I've posted 6 blogs today. Oh those wacky MySpace techies.

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Need to decide where to go for my vacation. Sam's not going to Halifax now, so if he's not going, Nova Scotia really doesn't hold anything for me. I may still go, I don't know.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Big scary incineration assignment I thought was due tomorrow, is actually due NEXT Tuesday. Andie gets to sleep tonight.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It is hot as balls today. But it could be worse. Could be snowing. I'll take this over -30 January temperatures any day.

Kittens, and jello. But not in the same bowl.

A slight miscommunication between the boy, his GF and I led resulted in my being unable to locate my children (or their father) this evening when it came time to pick them up. So, naturally the darkest recesses of my mommy brain kicked into overdrive, conjuring up images of MISSING posters featuring my ex and my girls, or bloody car wreckage on the highway after having gone to visit relatives, or my precious girls lying victims (along with the boy and his new fam) of carbon monoxide poisoning in their apartment.

Yeah, turns out they had to work this weekend, but didn't inform me, so after going through many channels I found the number of the new place where the boy is working and then found out where the girls were staying and went to pick them up, safe and sound. Phew.

One bright spot that came out of this particular ordeal is that early in my searching I decided to check the park (at this point I was merely a little peeved, not yet thoroughly freaked out) because Sundays they now have music in the park, and I figured the boy, being the musical sort, might find that a fun excursion to take the girls on.

ANYWAY...

While I was in the park I ran into a former customer from the convenience store, whom I've had a minor crush on for a while but who I only run into maybe once a year now, who was in the park with his daughter so I got to chat for a minute and in that time we got caught up a bit. I really wanted to ask him out for a coffee sometime, but seeing as I had already mentioned my concern at being unable to locate my kids, I thought that would be inappropriate.

"I can't locate my kids, I'm a little concerned. You wanna go out sometime?"

Yeah. That doesn't fly with me.

I'm feeling all romantic lately, I don't know what it is. Idealistic or something. Yearning to connect with someone on a deeply intimate - both emotionally and physically -- level. It's very pre-occupying. I had the opportunity for some dirty fun time with a former FWB, but I had to be honest and tell him I just wasn't into that anymore. Looking for more than just sex. Not that that isn't fun. It's the waking the next day and still not feeling any better in the larger frame of things that is Not so fun.

I think the events that took place over Pride weekend are still messing with me a bit. That was definitely a case where I fell very hard, very fast, and I am still feeling the reverberations. Top it off, there is a party in two weeks that he is more than likely going to be attending, and I'm not sure how to face him. It's been somewhat easy, with him being in the city and not having to come face to face with him.

*sigh*

No More Fucking Around

Fuck this "putting back on all the weight I lost last year" thing.

FUCK THAT.

Cruelest irony of all -- As I stood in the change room at Giant Tiger, vainly attempting to struggle into a pair of size 16 dress pants (as I couldn't find an 18), my frustration with my inability to find a simple pair of affordable pinstriped or plaid pants mounting by the second, what song should happen to be playing over the P.A. system?

BIG GIRLS DON'T CRY.

Almost poetic in it's sadistic humour, isn't it? 

*Shakes fist at heavens CURSE YOU, POETIC JUSTICE!

*sigh*.

"just an ordinary woman, slippin away..."

My God, I love summer rain. Is there anything greater?

I think I need help -or- socio-babble part one.

Sometimes getting woken up suddenly is a good thing, because otherwise I'd probably forget fucked up dreams like this:

I'm at a large pier, swimming with my children. This pier is about 100 feet wide. It's huge. There is an above water rock formation not too far away, similar to the one near Robin's Point where I used to swim. They are at about a 45 degree angle from each other.

The girls are able to swim for some reason, which is good because I'm not paying a whole lot of attention to them, although I am aware enough of their presence to look around every so often to pull one out from under the water (they can swim, but not well, in my dream). Instead I am more fascinated with the fact that the pier and the rock formation are growing ever closer to each other (a concrete pier and a pile of rocks). I look up at one point to realize that we are in a large water filled room, with red walls, still containing the rocks and the pier but now they are significantly smaller.

I notice Tierney just under the water struggling to emerge, so I yank her out of the water, coughing and sputtering. Then the water, pier, and rocks are gone and have been replaced by a large dome tent, although we are still in the red room. The tent takes up most of the room. I am sitting on one side, the children are playing, running in and out of the tent, and I can see on the other side of the tent, K (the ex-hubby's ex) and her kids are sitting against the wall, watching the girls play. I am very uncomfortable with this. Trying to be nonchalant, I say 'Okay girls, we're going to clean up now' and they disappear. As I start dismantling the tent, K and her kids get up to leave, she says something to her middle child as they leave, but I don't remember because I am noticing her hair is curlier than usual, almost like black hair.

I finish taking the tent down and I walk into another room, this one empty and beige. The Boy (read: ex-hubby) is in the room with Reagan (I don't seem bothered by the fact that I don't know where Tierney is) We small talk chit chat, apparently he is teaching Reagan to play guitar. There is again no furniture in the room, so he is seated, leaning against the wall, and Reegs is standing. I mention, hesistantly, that K had been there, and saw the girls. He nods and says that he saw her when they came through. I then notice a guitar on the ground and pick it up to notice that the neck has been broken right off. I show this to him and he laughs.

Next I am what looks like my nanny's house in Bancroft, in the living room. My mother is placing Knicknacks and lamps and candles around the room. As she busies around, she is advising me that if I get a Sears catalogue (she has to say 'Sears catalogue' about 6 times before I understand her, there are a few other people in the room, chatting loudly) that I can order some light. Confused I look around at all the lamps and candles in the room, and I can't for the life of me figure out what she is talking about but I nod and wink conspiratorially to her.

I am looking around the room for improvements that can be made, or things that can be taken away and my mother has embarked on making little place card type things with inspirational messages on them from the computer, and is placing them carefully on the windowsill. In the dream, this all seems like normal, if slightly irritating, behavior for my mom.

Next I am downtown midland, there is some kind of festival going on, I'm walking down the street with Aditya (new friend I just made). He sees a girl inside of one of the stores who is wearing a large rainbow flag. He mentions that he likes her and I say "So what are you waiting for?? Go talk to her" and with superhuman strength I literally throw him at her. 

Meanwhile I browse the magazine section of the store, and there are all these underground comics, tattoo magazines and a lot of occult-themed publications. I leave the store I walk up the street towards the library, where there is some kind of ritual or something taking place. There are many people around wearing purple shawls and covered in glittery stuff. There is a large pyre burning, about four feet tall with billowing black smoke. My dad handed me a purple shawl, and I put it on, and I swear the thing weighed 50 pounds. I am told by another guy that I have to get oiled up (which I am assuming is what the glittery stuff). I am aware that this other guy is my stepfather, which is odd because I have no recollection of my parents being divorced.

He guides me over to a booth where there are tubes of glitter laid out on a table, and proceeds to start rubbing the stuff on me, in some rather personal areas. I'm thinking OMG WTF. but strangely a little aroused too (BTW this guy has no resemblance to anyone I know IRL). He leaves and as I am putting the stuff on my arms, I telepathically contact Melissa (I told you this was a weird dream) and say "Dude, I totally have to tell you something." My 'stepfather' comes back and then phone rings and I wake up.

Yeah, I'm pretty fucked up I think.

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So I went to see Clerks 2 last night with Jay, John, John's GF Camilla (?) and Jay's friend Adi. Good times. Not Kevin Smiths best work, but still worth seeing. Thought it was a better wrap-up to the Jersey Saga of movies than Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back was. Some parts were funny as hell, some parts were over the top gross (Kinky Kelly for example), some parts were really over the top emotional, which is a departure for KS.

It got me thinking though about how you rarely see movies portray really deep, emotionally intimate friendships between men though. Although there are tons of buddy movies, the relationships, although lasting, seem really shallow. I give Kevin Smith credit for showing that in his films (even if he does use the homoerotic slant for cheap laughs). Come to think of it, he did it with Holden and Banky in Chasing Amy, and even with Ollie and his Dad in Jersey Girl. I haven't seen many movies show deep friendships between men since the Odd Couple.

When we watched the movie "Tough Guise" in Women and Pop culture -- which by the way, if you can get your hands on this movie watch it, it's fascinating -- There is an overlaying theme of men being isolated loners, with little emotional connection to anyone. Which is not real life, but could become so, since we learn from TV, movies and music more than anything now. But in real life, guys do have lasting emotional friendships, I've seen it on more than one occasion. Movies tend to portray male relationships as based on getting drunk/high having adventures and chasing pussy. Or as a dominant/submissive superhero/sidekick type thing. (Although the Tick and Arthur had an interesting relationship)

So yeah, I'm done my socio-babble for now. This is an interesting topic I think though. I'm thinking now I may start researching. If they bring the fourth year to Barrie maybe I could do my thesis on Male relationships in movies and television. I could go back to the old Crosby/Sinatra 'road to...." movies through to today.

NOBODY STEAL MY IDEA, K??

Musical Kryptonite.

Okay it sounds weird, but if someone were to sing this for me, I would be powerless against it -- I would be theirs forever (not counting those who have access to this blog... that's just cheating.) It's such a sweet love song, even if a little morbid

The Ghosts That Haunt Me

There's a skeleton in everybody's closet

I can think of one or two in my own room

But I would like to introduce them both to you

You'd shake their bony hands and so dispel the gloom

'Cause you're so kind I know you would not mind

You'd chase away the ghosts that haunt me now

And the things I fear they wouldn't seem so near

When I stroll out late at night there would be nothing rattling at my heels

There are nights when all my aching bones won't let me sleep

Demons come to plague me as I lie in bed

But I know if you were sleeping there beside me then

You would fend them off and they would let me rest

'Cause you're so kind I know you would not mind

You'd send away the ghosts that haunt me now

And the things I fear just wouldn't seem so near

When I stroll out late at night there would be nothing rattling at my heels

There are nights when the wind comes out to my old place

I have dreams yeah I wake up with the sweat pouring down my face

and I wait 'til the morning comes

There will come a time I feel when all my days are done

They will come collect my corpse and bury me

But I hope that you'll come over to the other side

Join me in our new life, keep me company

'Cause you're so kind I know you would not mind

You'd send away the ghosts that haunt me now

And the things I fear just wouldn't seem so near

When I stroll out late at night there would be nothing rattling at my heels

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In other news: There's getting to be a ridiculously high hot dog cart to people ratio in Midland. Apparently we are competing to become the 'street meat' capital of the world?

Going to see Clerks 2 tomorrow night. Looking forward to it!

Ill-gotten booty.

The laws of probability were on my side tonight.

I won a whole bunch of shit at karaoke tonight. Including THIS:

WARPED TOUR! BOO-FUCKING-YAH. 

(it's what happens when you karaoke on prize night, when it's dead and then sing about a half dozen songs or more. There were maybe 5 non-staff singers. My odds were amazing.)

Happy Andie.

Tasty tidbits.

I've been driving around without my insurance information handy. Oops.

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I JUST remembered today that I have a take-home exam that needs to be done by Tuesday morning. Since tomorrow is Nanny's birthday, and Monday is grocery day, I guess that means my day today is pretty much planned. Gah. I hate spur of the moment essays, even if they are only three pages. Can't wait to pass Enviro-Sci and never have to take another science course again.

EVER.

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I've come to the realization that I have an irrational fear of people thinking I am trying to take advantage of them. I think it goes back years when one of my 'friends' moms allegedly called me a mooch. Ever since then, I worry that people are going to think I'm using them for stuff. That's why I never ask anyone for anything.

Came to this the other day when I ran into a friend I haven't really talked in a long time invited me to come over a swim. Now I feel weirded out if I call, because it may be construed that that is the reason, when in actual fact, I just used to really enjoy hanging out with that person.

Yes. I am a little neurotic.

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I have to clean my car today. It's really really gross. Still need to figure out how I'm going to fix the ceiling as well (see Pride day blog).

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Went Karaoke legioning with the parentals last night (I know sammi, I didn't call you. Call me in the next day or two because I think we are going to karaoke on wednesday if you can get yourself up to midland you are welcome to come!)

My parents incredibly drunk friend kept putting his arm around me while his wife gave me dirty looks. Uncomfortable. Cue impromptu 'pee' break (read: Get me the fuck away from these people). *shudders

I kick ass at Led Zepplin (new KDJ's had Ramble on. Happy Andie. But only two Tragically Hip songs. Slightly Disgruntled Andie)

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 Hit Wasaga Beach on Thursday with Dan and the girls. Had a good laugh at the fact that people's assumption that he is 'with' me and my kids, makes his ogling of women on the beach not just lecherous, but particularily detestable. And makes me a clueless doormat.

In the eyes of others, I mean.

I got sunburnt on the backs of my calves and on my cleavage.

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My allergies are bugging the shite out of me.

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Last night after dropping the girls off I sat and played my guitar until the pain was too excruciating to even touch the fretboard, and I had to stick my fingers in frigid water between songs. What a thrilling feeling. My callouses are coming back. I'm almost ready to try playing in public again.

There's an Open Mike night at the coffee shop downtown tonight. If I'm done my essay, or at least have a good chunk of it done, I'm gonna go check it out. Don't know if I'm gonna play or not, but at least I have one or two songs I can do well, and all the way through. I'm gonna take the guitar with me and see what happens. 

Get so nervous. The last time I played in public (read: on a stage. Campfires are different) I fucked up pretty bad. Mind you, that was about 7 years ago.

7 Years? Holy shit.

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Because I'm feeling cheesy, I feel like posting a poem I wrote a while back. If you all like it, cool. If not, meh. Whatever.

ON SMALL TOWN ADOLESCENCE

I remember like it was yesterday

The diamond lights

Stretched shadows across the park

The night settled in

We played Hide and Seek in the dark

Not quite children now

We held on to our freedom

Pushing back our adult selves

As the twilight pushed back the sun

We hid in the trees

Drank beer behind the community centre

Took off our shirts when the summer heat 

Drenched us in cool sweat

Running into the bushes when

the cops came

And we laughed at how it screamed

we're up to no good

Changing letters on advertising signs

Risque messages left for passers-by

The police still circling, circling

As if to say 'move along'

But there is nothing here to see

we're still hiding in the trees.

War wounds (or 'look what the fucking bloodthinners did to me')

SO yeah, I went camping at my friend Jen's cottage last night. Drank too much. (a mickey of vodka, over my tolerance level). There was karaoke as well as a few guitars and I guess the combination of vodka, anticoagulants and my enthusiastic knee-slapping appreciation of good music resulted in a ridiculous amount of bruising.

That's from me keeping time with the music. Okay so I was a little over-exuberant, but shit... bruising?

Not only that but as I was walking along the rocky shore after three hours sleep (got to watch the sun coming up I did -- got to bed at 5:30 and by 8 am it was too bloody hot to sleep in the tent) to look for a nice low-traffic place to vomit, my sandal strap came open and i killed my knee on a friggin rock. AND last night the beam that was holding up the tarp fell down and hit me on the arm.

I'm a menace to myself I tells ya.

I'm going to go back to bed for a while, supposed to go to another party tonight.

Happy belated Canada day everyone.

Post Script: So... did a little internet search, and as it turns out, alcohol and anticoagulants are a bad mix. Forgot about that. Well then, no more rounds for me thanks.

Wow, I remember

Since I so rarely remember my dreams any more I wanted to get this one down.

I'm in a large hospital/school/industrial complex type place. I'm lying in a hospital bed, and there are a number of doctors and nurses attending to someone in a bed across from me, and no one can access the elevator. I have the distinct feeling that the person they are working on is dying, despite the fact that the doctors and nurses are laughing and carrying on as they work. Finally I leave my bed and, having given up on the elevator, I sneak out of a second door.

I've made my way to this lake which sits right outside the complex which is very large and foreboding on the outside. It has a look of an old-time insane asylum, the type you see in horror movies. The lake doubles as some kind of huge virtual reality shooting game and I have decided to skip to the final level. However I discover as targets pop up rapidly around me, that skipping levels was a bad idea, as I clearly lack the proper firearm for this particular level. My semi-automatic handgun does not have the rapid-fire capabilities necessary. Treading water, I laugh as I attempt to hit all the targets any way.

The water recedes to an image on my television, and I am in a living room with my dad, but I am under the impression that I am married to him, and I am pondering why I can't muster up any attraction to him. Then I clue in that he is my DAD, and laugh at my silliness. Then my ex-husband is in the room, my dad leaves, and the boy and I are discussing reasons why things didn't work out. I am speaking to him in a calm rational manner, and he is agreeing emphatically.

I am once again in the lake, in my clothes. My shirt is waterlogged, but for unknown reasons my pants are staying relatively dry. I swim out to a distant area of the lake, and encounter two young, somewhat awkward boys in their late teens floating on a water mattress, smoking a joint. They offer me some, but imagining myself trying to swim back to shore while stoned, I politely decline, and swim back to shore, with them following me.

Back in the complex which has taken on a mall-like appearance, I am going through the mall, stripping off my wet clothes as I go. Although I realize the risk I am taking wandering through the place like this, I'm not terribly concerned, nor do I feel exposed. I am more concerned with the fact that I am wet, than with the fact that I am now half naked. As I am wandering, trying to make my way back to my room to change, I run into Elsa a girl I used to work with, Patricia from school and my sister. Elsa is there as I rummage through a rack of clothing, picking out a pink chiffony type tank. I get into line to sign out my clothes, and my sister informs me that I seem to have some friends. the young guys from the lake are directly behind us in line.

I go to leave along with Nicky, and at this point I am exasperated and ask them to please move so I can leave, then side-mouth a comment about committing some violent act against these two (perhaps involving a large piece of wood with a nail stuck in it) in order to make them move. Nicky looks at me in shock and says "I didn't tell you that story did I?" She then proceeds to launch into an anecdote about her partying days. We somehow shift from topics to discussing That 70's Show and the characters we enjoyed. It is at this point I become acutely aware that I have the song "I am Anastasia" by Sponge stuck in my head, and have for quite a while now. I shout out some quotes from Caroline, Fez's crazy girlfriend, ending with "THIS...ISN'T... OVER" quite loudly. My giggles subside as I realize that I was indeed very loud and that people are looking at me with concern. I blush and walk on as though nothing has happened.

We pass through a door, and as I am jumping down a couple of large embankments, that have some rusted metal holding them up, I comment on how the show went to hell after Topher Grace left. I look around realizing Nicky is no longer with me.

Then I woke up. I go back to bed now.

A Hazard to myself

Hit the Big city of T.O. today, so I could attend the family reunion committee meeting for planning the Campbell reunion. This is year number 78. I got voted in for V.P. which means I show up and look pretty. No, just kidding, I have to go hunting for the next couple of months for raffle prizes, preferably Campbell or Scotland related then sell raffle tickies at the reunion. I'm also gonna look into setting up some kind of campbell reunion website for birth announcements, stuff like that, try to attract more numbers to future reunions, also to gather information to possibly put out a 2nd edition of the Campbell book, considering the old one is only updated to 1982.

Had fun trying to navigate my way from my SIL's place to Aunt Clara's, the first time I have been in downtown Toronto since I got my license. Only ran one red, and wound up wrong way on a one way street at one point.

See some funny shit in the city. Saw a restaurant called the "Love Cafe" and there was a sign out from hawking "Juicy Sexy Burgers". Funniest friggin' thing I have ever seen.

It was unnerving all the honking, what with the World Cup fever going on. It took me a while before I realized it wasn't people honking at my driving.

I saw the real Degrassi street. When I go down there in two weeks I wanna go back and get my pic taken under the street sign. Gawd, I'm such a hick.

I'm ass-tired now, gonna go to bed, later.