Happy Halloweenie

Happy Halloween
Originally uploaded by Beatrice Petty.

So, the roomie and I went to the Psychic Fair yesterday. It was good. A little smaller than last year, but interesting nonetheless. No one there really jumped out at me so I chose to purchase just a Celtic medallion and a super fun and ENTIRELY accurate electronic horoscope, tarot, fortune telling thingy... It was so accurate it wasn't even funny... even down to hitting my amazing artistic talent right on the head... which I think my fabulous Halloween drawing proves beyond a reasonable doubt and once and for all to the entire world.

It also pointed out that am somewhat of a walking encyclopedia... my head filled with useful facts and figures that I can whip out at the drop of a hat... such as names of ancient Sumerian capital cities and the like. These are the things that everyone should know because you just never know when Ur will come up in conversation... I'm just saying that it CAN happen.

Another thing that CAN happen??? I can be wrong.

I'll admit it, although reluctantly, that sometimes... sometimes... some of the information that I have stored in my brain may be inaccurate... The most recent example? Daylight Savings. I've been reading and hearing for some time now how the US is changing Daylight Savings... to a little later in the Autumn and a little earlier in the Spring... and our government has been humming and hawing over whether they were going to follow suit... to me it seemed like a no brainer because, economic issues aside, not following suit would have been DISASTROUS for my TV watching habits. Anyway, for whatever reason... in not one of the stories I had read/seen did it say anything about this happening until 2007. So I, being the SMRT gal that I am believed that this change was to occur this year. True, I could have clued in to the fact that there wasn't as much/ANY press about it as there should have been had such a change been set to occur, but I thought that for whatever reason, I was slightly more obsessed with it that say... EVERYONE else in the country. So, like... whatever. I'm over it.

Of course the whole thing wouldn't have been a big deal had I not managed to convince the roomie that I was right and the rest of the country was wrong... what can I say, I can be really persuasive when I think I am right... long story short, I did eventually figure out that the change wasn't happening this year (with a day to spare I might add), but I would like to send out a huge apology to my roommate...

The moral of the story... I am not ALWAYS right...

PS... A big super duper Happy Belated Birthday to my friend Wee out in Vancouver whose Birthday it was yesterday... Here's hoping she didn't have to be carried home from the SUB by the bouncer again.


Could I Be More Excited?

That the weekend is almost upon us? I seriously doubt it. Not that I have any truly exciting plans this weekend, except the Psychic Fair of course, which is pretty fun... lots of neat, interesting and often times odd things to see there...

Lately, I have come to view weekends as mental health days. Days where I can flake out and do nothing, think about nothing, recharge etc ... and long weekends? As far as I am concerned there are just not enough of them. Why? In plain and simple terms? I am burnt out. Being on contract means that the employer happily gets to save some money and not have to give you and holiday and sick days... which is super great for the employer, but super sucky for the employee who, in this case, would be me. I can't remember the last time I had longer than just a few days off. Even last year's home for Christmas fiasco only allowed for a few days away and thanks to Jets Go and the stupid courier company who lost my luggage for 2 weeks, they were hardly restful.

I need a vacation. I need one now. I need it to be longer than just a two day weekend.

Sorry, just needed to get that off my chest. I'm shutting up now.



Long Time No...

Anything... sorry.

With active nosebleed season upon me, martini parties, work tragedies, cats falling down stairs, accidentally climbing into bed with strange men (obviously related to martini parties), new video games and the like, I have scarcely had time to breath, let alone write.

However, have had time to peruse my new favorite site, E-Closure. Why do I love it so? because, although it pains me to admit it...

I am an er.

I know, it's pathetic and I'm sure this comes as no surprise to most of you and indeed, some of you reading this have even born the brunt of my desire to E-Close matters of the heart. I don't know what to say... there is no logical reason why I feel the need to do this except that it makes me feel better somehow... or at least it is supposed to.

That being said, I have also been the E-Closure-ee... a position that at first glance seems to be the better one to be in but, well, as some of the pieces on the site can attest to, this is not always the case.

It has been quite some time since I have been the breaker-up-er and while being the breaker-up-ee really really really sucks, being the breaker-up-er really really really sucks too. I would argue that it is the worse of the two. Of course, I am referring to those instances when the breaker-up-er actually cares from the breaker-up-ee but for this reason or that feels that to be in a romantic relationship with them is not doing either of them any good... as opposed to completely despising the person and relishing in the potential joy that you will feel when you know you will break their heart when you kick them to the curb... not that I have ever done that but... well, some people just aren't very nice... anyway.

So it's hard to be the breaker-up-er... just as it's hard to be the E-Closure-ee. Thankfully, being a girl, most guys don't feel the need to have closure of this kind, so I have not been at the receiving end very often, but the ones I have received have been very difficult. I remember one though... way back in university with a sweet guy who, sadly, was an emotional vampire so he had to go... shortly after I had ended things he came over to my place when I wasn't home and left a bouquet of flowers on my bed with a letter. I burst out crying when I saw the flowers. Five years later I was finally able to read the letter. And I burst out crying... five years later. It shocked me that someone could feel that way about it me. I felt very guilty that I had hurt someone like that which is why I could not bear to read the letter in the first place... denial ain't just a river in Egypt you know. Lesson learned? Guilt can and does last longer than any pain caused by losing someone you think is the end all and be all of time.

So where the hell am I going with this? I'm not sure, except to say that my new favorite site has left me re-evaluating my need for closure... Yes, as the breaker-up-ee, I may need it to make myself feel better in the moment but from now on I am going to do my best to have a little more empathy for the breaker-up-er although in a perfect world, the next time I will be neither.



Ethics Schmethics

Do you sometimes get wonder if our society would function better if you remove those pesky little notions known as ethics?

Take today for example. Left a little early so I could get to work a little early... as usual the 168 Slumington bus had other ideas as I, along with a half a dozen or so others waited patiently for over 10 minutes only to see the first bus go by mostly full, but with some room left in the back. Move to the back please people, move to the back...

A couple of minutes later another one arrived and it was practically empty so I was able to get a seat. Of course, with the first bus having passed us with nary a second thought, that meant that the next 6 stops were going to be packed with people and sure enough, the bus was full in next to no time... but the bus is never full. ever. There was oodles of room in the back. If people were just a teensy bit more considerate towards their fellow commuters and move to the back as soon as they boarded, then more people could get on and everyone could get to work on time... of course, people in Toronto tend to not be very considerate so this will never happen... but seriously, does it really matter WHERE on the bus you are standing? Anyway, that is a whole other issue for another time perhaps...

So, people will not move to the back on their own accord... this I think I have established... but what about some sort of motivation? A cattle prod for example. I think that might make people think twice about insisting on remaining towards the front of the bus.

This same "motivational" logic could be applied to a whole host of other annoying behaviours exhibited by people in the city. The cattle prod may be a tad too unethical, but what about branding people. Calling attention to their bad behaviour. Nothing works better than shame as a motivator right? Perhaps a little bird pooping on peoples heads who don't hold the door open for someone directly behind them? Or a red paintball that shoots people in elevators who don't hold the doors for someone running to catch the elevator? That way, when you see a guy/girl with poo on their head AND a red blotch on their shirt... well, all I can say is that they may think twice about the inconsiderate-ness-ocity.

The possibilities are endless...

Bea "no bird poo or red dot on MY shirt" Petty


Hooray for Hump Days

And by hump day, I do not mean literally of course... the end to my involuntary vow of celibacy would be far too much to ask...

No, I mean mid-week... Wednesday. Normally I dislike Wednesdays, far more than Mondays which for some unexplained reason fly by so quickly that I feel the work day is over almost as soon as I've sat down with my morning coffee. But Wednesdays... ugh... just AWFUL. Wednesdays are usually the days when I look at the clock at say 10am because I feel that surely it must be close to 1pm but no, it is only 10am. And then I look back at the clock like 3 hours later but it is only like 10:05am and then at like 10:30am I am starving because in my mind it is now like 3pm and I haven't like eaten and I'm like all grumpy and GOD FORBID you come and ask for something... not unless you have invented some sort of device to make time move at a moderately decent pace... because in that case MAYBE, just maybe I might consider giving you that back massage and de-lousing your children.

Anyway, so that's a typical Wednesday for me. But today, I got a chance to blow this popsicle stand for a few hours and attend the Sports Media Canada Awards luncheon, which sounds boring and would have been boring were it not for the fact that we had a former Maple Leafs hockey player sitting at our table (who will remain unnamed but knowing that he wears a giant cowboy hat with a picture of himself on the front of it should give you an idea as to what he is like) who by noon was mildly inebriated and regaling us with stories about virgins and panties and water beds. Good Times...

And I did learn a few things, in addition to getting a kick ass lunch. Chief among them that Gary Bettman, commission for the NHL is really quite a little man... from now on, I will refer to him as mini-Gary Bettman. Pinball Clemens of the Argos is also short but so completely adorable. People can have very unusual body shapes, as was proved by one of the owners of the Argos... not sure which one... the young one. People with big heads make good broadcasters. Prescription medication and wine don't mix. Not safe to assume that all 300 people at a luncheon can and will eat salmon for the main course. 2 and a half hours is a long time to be sitting without a bathroom break.

A few more hump days like today and I might have to re-think my whole opinion of them.



Bless Me Father...

For I have sinned. It has been *insert my age* since my last confession and despite my vow of celibacy I found myself having impure thoughts. A lot of them. With a lot of different fellas... Ok, there were not a whole lot to be found at the StampEx 2005 Stamp Show which was my big exciting outing this weekend (go ahead and laugh, I am used to being mocked for my passion for philately) so most of them were just some of my new Lost celebrity boyfriends... but they were impure nonetheless.

Also, I broke two more of the seven deadly sins. After watching the bonus features on Lost, I became enraged with envy at the creative talents of JJ Abrams and crew who seemingly put together the concept of Lost, for shits and giggles, in a matter if 2.5 seconds. Bastards. You will just have to use your imagination about the 3rd sin, but knowing that I sat around on my ass and watched movies and Lost AND played a few rounds on ye olde Playstation2 should clue you in to what it was. Sloth be damned, I love lazy weekends!

Five Hail Marys later and despite my weekend of wicked sinfulness, I find myself once again, inspired to tell a good story. It's amazing what kind of inspiration one can get from hearing about successes of others. It was also refreshing to know that I am not the only one who sits down to write without a plan. Of course, now I am going back and doing a lot of fixing up of my yarn, but the essentials and the story were originally written as if coming from no where. I would sit down and write straight for about 2 hours and then have no idea what I had put on the paper until I stopped to read it. Sometimes I amazed myself, for quite often the story took a turn that I had not envisioned. I decided not to fight it when that happened and instead, let it grow organically and ran with it. Sometimes the ideas weren't so great, but more often than not I found myself extremely pleased with the ideas that came without any forethought. It was really cool.

Sadly, the downside of becoming reliant on writing this way is that when the story all of a sudden stopped writing itself, I actually had to think about it. It was not so cool. I tried. I tried too hard. I forced the story and it started down a path that I didn't like. So I stopped. After a brief hiatus, I am now back to working on it, but only on some of the smaller, albeit important character development details and things of that nature. But of the story itself which is mostly finished but with still a wee ways to go... I want things to go back to the way they were when I first started. To be able to sit down, close my eyes and let the pencil (yep, old fashioned pencil and notebook) move itself. Until then, I will continue to look for inspiration hither and yon and carry my notebook around with me at all times... I want to good and ready when it comes back!

Beatrice "what the *#@! happened to my muse" Petty


Call Me Sister Beatrice...

For after the visit the other day to Dr. Doolittle I have taken, involuntarily I might add but taken nonetheless, a vow of poverty. And like nuns, I have also taken, again involuntarily but taken nonetheless, a vow of chastity. And this got me thinking... why not just put myself out of my misery and make it official.

So I did some research and it looks pretty darn appealing to be honest. I am already somewhat mostly there.

Steps to Becoming a Catholic Nun

Be Catholic or convert to Catholicism: I was baptized a Catholic so technically I already am one. So I faint every time I attend mass in a Catholic Church. So what. I'm sure I would get over it eventually. At the very least it would cause excitement among the sisters... "Oh, there goes Sister Beatrice, fainting again."

Do not get married--or divorced: You can't get divorced if you ain't never been married. I am starting to think the super luck I've had in the land of dating might have been trying to tell me something all this time. And by "super luck", I mean "horrible disaster" of course.

Get a college degree. Many religious communities like applicants to have at least a bachelor's degree before they take their vows: I have that... I have a bachelor's degree. Just when I was starting to think that it had been a complete waste of 5 years of my life (yeah, I was on the 5 year program, so what)...

Find an order, or a religious community, that suits your beliefs and personality: Doing some research, some orders seem more apt to have fun than others. I would like my religious community to be one of the more fun ones. Board games are a must.

Look for an order whose work interests you. You'll find everything from beekeeping and winemaking to teaching and family counseling. Benedictine sisters, for instance, work in education and service ministries, whereas Cistercian nuns are devoted to prayer and contemplation. You don't need to be quiet and passive to be a nun--some are antiwar protesters and others lead the fight against AIDS in Third World countries: Winemaking please! Although keeping bees would be fun too. Either one works for me.

Contact the vocation director at the community you choose. Spend some time there and ask plenty of questions: I have no special plans this weekend.

Move in for a year or two while you're still studying or working outside if that's an option. This period of residency will give you a good feel for the everyday life of the order you're considering: Moving in while continuing to work outside would alleviate the "poverty" aspect of this whole affair... kind of defeats the purpose.

Go through the novitiate, or training period, which may last another year or two. You'll spend your time studying, praying and deciding whether you really want to become a nun: Always good to have an out.

Take temporary vows of poverty, celibacy and obedience: Done, done and... um, we might have a problem with the last one.

Take your final vows. If you made good on your temporary vows, you're ready for the religious life: Here comes Sister Beatrice... Winemaking, beekeepking, anti-war protesting, AIDS fighting nun extraordinaire!!!

Wish me luck everyone!


Lady Sings the Blues

Ok, so not this lady, but a lady of sorts. It seems that my miracle kitty has the feline blahs. How is this possible you ask? I don't know, it just is I answer.

She goes to see Dr. Doolittle for a check-up tonight. I am sure that he will be very pleased that her back legs are doing very well and she has just a little bit of gimpiness remaining. But as of this past weekend she hasn't really been eating... only soft cat food. And she barely drinks... will only take water out of a drinking glass because apparently the bowl and self-watering dish are not good enough... don't get me started on the puking.

But at the same time, she doesn't appear to be "sick" if that makes any sense. She lays there, on the couch with her eyes staring sadly at nothing in particular as if pining over a lost love. Not being able to drink out of the toilet perhaps? She was very fond of doing that but since her hind legs can no longer support her, (she gets up on her back legs, head full on into the toilet bowl and slurps water with her front paw) she now has to drink water out of the tap like the common kitties, something she has been loath to do for her entire life.

Whatever it is, it is really quite sad. I hope that it is something that can be fixed and that the progress she made when she got home the other week was not just the calm before the storm. A friend of mine postulated that perhaps she felt this way from the beginning but was so happy to not be at the animal hospital that she didn't show it because she didn't want to go back. And now that she has forgotten the hell she went through for that short time she is able to express her illness/depression/malaise... I dunno, it seemed like a good theory at the time.



Bea's New Hobby

Can you guess? Here's a hint:

A new collection of celebrity boyfriends came into my life over the weekend, and since I have sworn off dating and men for the time being, this will just have to do for now. And while the anticipation of seeing some yummy men with little to no clothes on is very appealing, I am just as impressed with the story and writing... for Lost is a very interesting program... Like another much beloved JJ Abrahms program Alias, Lost is apt to f*%$# with ones mind. I don't mind having my mind f*%$#ed with so long as I am in control with the degree to which my mind is being f*%$#ed. For example, f*%$#ing with my mind by pretending for over a month that you are going to be coming to Toronto on business and then pretending to be someone completely different when confronted with the fact... Not cool. Dude who was in a wheelchair before the plane crashed on the deserted island and then can all of a sudden walk... cool.

Am I the last person in the world to jump on the Lost bandwagon? Yes, but I am comfortable dragging the roomie through the mud to, if only so I don't feel like a total dweeb. I won't tell you just how many hours we spent curled up yesterday, being even lazier than our cats, watching as much of the first season as possible. Oh don't worry, we barely put a dent into the series.

Conclusion I came to: NOT watching TV when it is ON TV is really most excellent (also managed to fit some House in as well... ah Hugh Laurie, how much do I love you?) and that sitting through commercials is for suckers!

The End.


In Praise of the Long Weekend

It has been a long week.

Immune systems are funny little things. I caught the cold that is going around at almost the exact moment that I found out that Oreo was going to be alright. Thank you immune system, for waiting until other issues died down before letting your guard down and taking some time off. The downside, or course, is that I have been Ickley McSickles all week and would love to be curled up in bed with a good book right about now.

Sufficed to say, I am probably more excited than just about anyone (I actually think that I am the MOST excited in all of Canada... It's true... if they could measure such a thing, I would win hands down) about getting 3 whole days off. My plan is to stay in my sweats as much as humanly possible all weekend... I would have worn them to work today if I could have but didn't because a) I didn't want to take advantage of "casual Friday" by being too casual and b) my most comfy sweatpants are visibly "branded" with a certain brand name that I am not allowed to wear to work.

Welcome to the land of sponsors... a happy land filled with faeries and fluffy bunnies but where not towing the line will cause the sky to cloud over and flying monkeys to swoop down and carry you off to their underground lair and force you to weed their gardens, all the while having to hum showtunes for their pleasure... and on Fridays they dress everyone up as big giant bananas and let you loose into the forest and then they all come looking for you in a game the call "Find the Human Bananas" (flying monkeys are not very creative) and the last "banana" to be found gets a day off from pulling weeds but has to massage the neck of the President of the flying monkeys who only likes to listen to Gershwin songs so boy, you had better learn as many Gershwin songs as you can because he gets pissed when he hears the same song twice...

I digress.

So, yes... sweatpants it is this weekend. That's what I was trying to say, before I got distracted by the flying monkeys... I don't know why, but flying monkeys ALWAYS have that effect on me.

Happy Thanksgiving



Interpretation is a funny thing. I learned this yesterday after a discussion with Girl regarding my talk about having "crushes" on certain people... whether it be random men on the bus or my former-PNB or countless numbers of astronomers at the observatory I used to work at, or the vet etc... We debated on what exactly a "crush" entails and I learned, that it can mean different things to different people.

For me, a crush is a small little thing, a passing infatuation if you will, that I have no intention of ever acting upon. Am I going to jump Dr. Doolittle's bones when I see him next? No. If I knew for sure sure what his marital status was (and if he wasn't like 50), would I try and take things to them next level? Again, no. For me, a crush is a way of admiring someone from a far. It usually goes away quite quickly, an "out of sight, out of mind" kind of thing.

However, that is not to say that a crush can never turn into a serious "liking". If the "crush" seemingly becomes mutual and depending on the nature of the crush and both parties are open to more, then a crush can definitely turn into something bigger.

There are also varying degrees of "crushing". Back in university (if Wee is reading this, she can attest), I had HUGE crushes on a few different boys. I would assign them nicknames based on the various clothing they wore. I will never forget "hat guy" or "vest guy" (I was somewhat less creative back then than I am now)... I admired them from afar and I admired them often. These crushes usually ended when I met said "*insert random clothing here* guys". "Vest guy" I remember in particular because we ended up being quite friendly with each other after I finally did get the nerve to talk to him (I'm sure I was in a bar... ah, liquid courage, my old friend). But my "crush" turned from butterflies when I would catch a glimpse of him to "meh" after we did meet. The crush was much, much more exciting.

So, I can admire my random men on the bus every day. I can get excited about hanging with the former-PNB. I can look forward to taking my cat to the vet. I can have all these crushes (and more to be sure) without them being any more than a passing, informal fancy. Can a crush turn into something more substantial? Yes, it can, but then it would no longer be a crush. It would then be a "liking that was until fairly recently a crush" which, with any luck, might turn into "a crush that has long since been a liking, and is on the way to becoming a love interest" etc etc...

You get the picture.

Hello, my name is Beatrice Petty and I am a crushaholic.


Knights in Shining Armour and Other Nonsense...

Oreo had a little check-up with the Vet last night and he seems very pleased with her progress. This, in turn, has now led to a wee infatuation with said Vet, who I have now come to regard as my knight in shining armour... A brave man who rushed in to save a damsel in distress and rescued her little one from the brink of death. Laugh if you must, but this was the way events unfolded. True, this could have something to do with the theme of the movies this damsel and her roommate watched over the weekend... A Knight's Tale on Friday, and MP's Holy Grail on Saturday... Whatever, that's my story and I am sticking to it!

But what is a fact and as I stated above, is that I do have a wee little crush on Dr. Doolittle. He's an adorable little man... with his little pants, dirtied by who knows what animal's discharge... and his gentle manner. Completely unattainable and that is fine with me thank you very much...

Which leads me to my newest "did she really just say that" revelation. From henceforth, until such a time that I decide that this is not to be the case, which, as we all know is completely random... I shall crush only on those people who are completely unattainable, unpossible, and unpractical. The list shall be as follows, with additions possibly forthcoming every day. For the time being they are:

Dr. Doolittle... he's married, I think... and it is highly likely that I am experiencing a form of "hero-worship" which would not lead to any sort of healthy relationship.

Celebrity Boyfriends a plenty... take you pick from any of the following: Orlando, Vince V., that guy who plays Mr. Darcy in the new Pride and Prejudice movie, Gerard Butler (I know, he is CBS's now... but I did say unpossible right?), and of course the mostest adorablest Clive who sits above... way too many others to name, but you get the idea.

The mailman at work... yeah, I saw him today, he's married... so what?

Peter Mackay... yeah, he's a right wing conservative, and I'm not... so what? He wears gumboots. How is that not sexy?

Former-PNB... he drives me crazy and goes out of his way to torment me... and has no interest in me whatsoever... but I did say unattainable, unpossible and unpractical right??? But hey, it's harmless crushing and until I meet someone else who drives me crazy and goes out of his way to torment me... and who IS actually interested in me, former-PNB it is!

3 different dudes who ride my bus... there are no less than 3 very adorable boys who I see either in the morning or evening who I enjoy oggling. Again, married... I know this because I have mastered the fine art of "eavesdropping" on the conversations of complete strangers. You should try it sometime.

More to come on this as the days go by...

Beatrice "yep, I went there" Petty


Demise of My Quotation Fingers

It is with great effort that I am typing this morning. Without going into the horrific details, I had another kitty incident on Friday. I should have known better. What with the Mr. Pee Pee going to town on my bed on Tuesday, and Oreo having a near death experience on Wednesday... they say things happen in threes. Anyway, I currently have the middle and ring fingers on my left hand wrapped together so that the giant slice that our neighbour's cat took out of me on Friday can heal... hence the title of this posting. How I will survive the next little while without "quotation fingering" ever second word??? I know not. Alas, poor Bea.

As for my little one... She came home on Saturday and despite walking around like she just downed a 2-4 of tequila and wobbling à la Michael J. Fox, she is doing pretty well. She even made it past the barricades I put up at the bottom of my stairs and wobbled all the way up them at 4am this morning only the freak the crap out of me by purring in my ear. Oh, how I missed that purr. She was quite proud of herself. At times I can hardly keep from laughing as she tries so hard to get from point a to point b all the while trying to remain upright. It is also heartbreaking too, as she truly has no idea that there is anything different about her. You can tell that she gets frustrated when she can't do the things she used to... that is the hardest for me to watch.

So what's the final prognosis? The doc doesn't know. She could have some underlying viral or tumor issues, but without a barrage of expensive and "won't change things in the long run anyway even if we did find something" tests, we won't know. He is happy with her progress to this point so we will just have to wait and see. But I do know that in the short time she has been at home, she seems to have gotten a little better and that is very good news for me. Yay Oreo.

That's it for today... must save what little ability I have to type (and I had very little to begin with as anyone who has ever had the pleasure of msning with me... wan tot) for actual work.