My Kingdom for a...

Life is pretty quiet for the old girl these days. With pretty much every friend/acquaintance in town now in couples-ville, I am basically on my own right now. It’s not a huge issue as I enjoy my alone time and I am busy getting organized for ye olde move… which cannot come soon enough in my books.

And not that I think that the moment I move to my new little neighbourhood that I will magically have all the things that I am missing right now… but allow me to present the following example:

Yesterday was a great day. I woke up and the sun was shining…my creative juices were flowing so I started to do some writing. I took a break for lunch and turned the TV on only to discover that History was just starting to show the entire Band of Brothers series from start to finish. Being a huge WW2/ History nerd, I had wanted to see this for a very, very long time. Some people get excited for soap operas, American Idol or The Apprentice… I get excited for 10-part WW2 mini-series’...

Anyway, so started to watch I did and got totally engrossed in like 2.5 seconds… So engrossed, in fact, that I had completely forgotten that I needed to get the most basic of all human necessities… Toilet Paper. I knew last week that I was running a wee bit low and had forgotten to pick some up before the weekend… and then Saturday came and went sans shopping for TP… and by the time Sunday came around, the situation was quite dire. When I realized that I had finally run out, I accepted the fact that I was going to miss a bit of my l’il program and off I went to the store.

6:30pm… First store? Closed. Second store? Closed. Stores that were actually open? No toilet paper. I went into the bakery and bought a little brownie so that a) I wouldn’t feel bad for using the washroom and b) wouldn’t feel bad for stealing a whole whack of toilet paper. I’m pretty sure God will smite me at some point and that the 2nd lowest level of hell is reserved solely for Toilet Paper Stealers such as myself and that I will spend the rest of eternity in said place with no access to toilet paper as a punishment… But for now, I'll just have to live with it.

So my POINT is that while moving to civilization will not bring me my hearts desires (well, it will, but not without some effort on my part), at least I will have access to TP 24 hours a day, 7 days a week…

Bea "thank god it's Monday, I mean it... thank you god... I'm going shopping today... I'll replace the TP if you want... don't smite me, pretty please..." Petty

Survey Says...

So,

As I am always happy to earn extra cash without having to actually do anything for it, I’ve been doing these online survey thingies for a while… Ipsos-Reid and others like that. Rarely do you get paid for taking the survey… although I have had my fair share of 5$ cheques, let me tell you… but the idea that maybe if the universe sees fit I may just win the monthly draw that participation in said surveys makes one eligible for, is too good to pass up.

These surveys come in all shapes and sizes and subjects… cars, clothing brands, various other products. Hands down my most favorite-est would be the one I just did.

How many times in the past 2 months have you participated in a Market Research study for the following:

Oatmeal: Never Once Twice Don’t Know

Well, never having been given the pleasurable opportunity to participate in a Market Research study of oatmeal in my hitherto un-oatmeal-survey-filled life, let alone the last two months, of course I had to answer NEVER. However, words cannot express my excitement of being asked to FINALLY participate in one.

Unfortunately, our story has a most sad ending. For just as I had gotten into my oatmeal surveying frame of mind, I was informed by the oatmeal surveying people that their oatmeal surveying quota had already been filled. Blast.

If you hurry, you too just might be able to catch a fleeting glimpse of the survey to end all surveys: http://survey.confirmit.com/wix/p346922206.aspx?r=22516&s=SNVHHOWC&p=1.

Bea “strangely craving oatmeal” Petty

Movin' on Up...

... To the east side. Literally. By about half a block. In about 2 weeks, I will be moving to the most adorable little place, which will put me, literally, within a 3-minute walk to a movie theatre, my favorite grocery store, a Chapters, a LCBO, and many, many other purveyors of useful goods and services. Literally. I think this will be a nice change from being a 15 minute walk to the most ghetto mall in all of Toronto.

Yay, I won’t be unemployed and on the streets this summer. yay.

BP

House vs. My Dad

A Case Study

by
Beatrice Petty

House has peppered gray hair. My Dad has peppered gray hair.

House has really nice blue eyes. My Dad has really nice blue eyes.

House is a cranky man who offends people at ever turn. My Dad is a cranky man who offends people at every turn.

House has trouble keeping friends. My Dad has trouble keeping friends.

House has very definite views on the way the world should work. My Dad has very definite views on the way the world should work.

House spends his live living in chronic pain. My Dad spends hi life living in chronic pain.

House hates people. My Dad hates people.

House has a bizarre sense of humour. My Dad has a bizarre sense of humour.

House walks with a limp due to a bummed leg. My Dad sometimes walks with a limp due to a bummed back.

House has a mild dependency on pain killers to deal with above mentioned chronic pain. My Dad has a mild dependency on pain killers to deal with above mentioned chronic pain.

House is, deep down, a very caring person. My Dad is, deep down, a very caring person.

House likes to ride motorcycles. My Dad likes to ride motorcycles.

House can fix anyONE. My Dad can fix anyTHING.

House is a Doctor. My Dad spends a lot of time going to doctors.

House is a cool guy. My Dad is a cool guy.

Miss, or Won't Miss?

Spending 2 hours of my Friday night getting Hugh down from the water pipe, which, due to the "lofty" nature of the loft, is 20 feet off the ground??? Won't miss

Being able to spend a nice weekend day on a giant patio??? Miss

The unexpected outbreak of bagpipe music whilst reading on the above mentioned patio??? Miss

Working from home on a Monday because of a wild-cat transit strike has left me stranded in the slums??? Miss/ Won't Miss (who doesn't like working from home)

Navigating my steep, narrow, banister-free stairs in the dark in the middle of the night to empty the world's tiniest bladder??? Won't miss

The lovely smell of the rubber factory next door and a sweltering summer day??? Won't miss

Free central air conditioning??? Miss

Taking the bus??? Won't miss

Not having one single closet or one iota of storage space? Won't miss

Splitting cable/internet with roommate??? Miss

Having neighbourhood grocery store as a Price Chopper (non-Toronto dwellers... Price Chopper = GHETTO)??? WON'T MISS

Parking lot movie nights in the summer??? Miss

168 Slumington??? Won't miss

Not being able to rent/ go to a movie/ do anything spur of the moment??? Won't miss

Trainspotting??? Miss

Living above an illegal gambling ring??? Won't miss

Kick ass parties happening regularly 3 doors down??? Miss

Spending a bazillion dollars on taxis just so I can have a social life... such that it is??? Won't miss

I am sure there are more pros and cons to moving, but I am supposed to be working after all... albeit from home, sitting on my couch... in my sweats.

Laters,
Bea

This Just in... Nothing

Last night, a few things happened that I feel compelled to share. They are in no way exciting, but for lack of anything else to share with you, they will have to do. Now, once I re-join the civilized world and the beautiful peeps at Young and Eligible next month, I may have some more exciting things to gab about, but until then, this is what you get:

1) Increasingly losing respect for anyone who does not watch House.

2) I don’t think the next American Idol should ONLY be able to sing well when sitting down on the floor.

3) My cat locked himself in the bathroom at some point last night. I woke up to what sounded like a baby being thrown against the wall. It was, in fact, my cat throwing himself against the door.

4) Having locked himself inside the bathroom for god knows how long with an unlimited supply of water from the toilet the little guy needed to tinkle… which he proceeded to do… in the bathtub. And while it sucked having to clean cat urine out of the tub in the middle of the night, I was quite proud of the little guy for understanding the physics behind liquids and drains… and not going on the floor.

5) Having successfully taught Hugh the words ‘where is your mouse’ whereby he immediately proceeds to parts of the loft unknown to find said inanimate best friend and drops it beside me where we play fetch for what seems like hours on end… if you ever thought that cats had short attention spans, you have not met my little guy… I have now decided that I will teach him how to go to the bathroom in the toilet à la Meet the Parents. Do I expect that he’ll learn to flush the toilet? No, but I am willing to go to just about any extreme so as not to have to clean the kitty litter… any extreme except for the former-PNB’s that is, whose solution was to liberally spray the immediate vicinity with the most noxious air freshening spray possible… I am talking about a spray that I am sure was banned in even the poorest of third world countries here folks… It’s entirely possible that he was actually trying to kill me and only when that didn’t work, decided to break things off… and then immediately sent a stalker my way to do the dirty deed for him…Hmmm… suddenly everything makes so much more sense…

Let us all pray that Bea gets a more exciting life when she moves…

Math For a Saturday Morning

Find X…

If ‘a’ equals Bea and ‘b’ equals the Madison on a rainy Friday night to celebrate ‘a’s job and ‘c’ equals Adorable English Chemist… multiply by ‘d’, which equals beer before liquor means never sicker divided by the square root of ‘e’, hilarious piano bar of ‘b’.

‘a’ through ‘e’ multiplied by ‘f’ which equals somehow thinking that pretending to be visiting sister of ‘c’ and sporting an English accent all night was the most fabulous idea of all time and then divided by ‘g’ where ‘g’ means ‘c’ going around ‘e’ and introducing ‘a’ as ‘f’… whereby ‘c’, due to ‘d’, leaves the ‘e’ of ‘b’ when ‘a’ is in the ladies room of ‘e’ leaving ‘a’ to wander around ‘e’ wondering where the ‘eff’, not to be confused with ‘f’ which ‘a’ has since abandoned after the unexpected departure of ‘c’ from the ‘e’ of ‘b’…

If you answered X = What was Bea thinking…

Give yourself an A+++

If you answered X= Bea is an idiot…

Give yourself a B-. Bea is not an idiot, but after that many beers, she clearly wasn’t thinking.

One Chore Down...

Just one to go... Moving.

Here's to continuing to be gainfully employed!

Yay Me!

TTOW!

Last night was an interesting TV night and I for one am thankful that the batteries in my remote control did not die. I had 3 important programs on the go that I needed to keep track of. It took all of my wits to keep it going for 2 full hours.

America’s Next Top Model… a shocking conclusion if you ask me. I was sure the girl who didn’t win was going to be the one. Shows you how much I know.

American Idol… Meh… I figured Elliot would go. My prediction is that my boy Taylor will win, but one can never predict where those who had been voting for Elliot might now send their votes. After Chris got voted off, what little faith I had in the American public was pretty much destroyed…

And last but not least…

The Amazing Race... This is the very first season I have watched… With all the hoopla I decided to jump on the bandwagon and check it out… and I fell in love. I fell in love with the Hippies BJ and Tyler. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they reminded me of my brother and his friends, who are all completely hysterical… but good for them… Let’s all say it together…

TTOW

Bea's Favorite Quote du Jour

When reacting to a comment about coming down on the conservative side when deciding to close a Utah campground... because the bubonic plague had been found in rodents there, Joe Winklemaier of the U.S. Public Health Service had this to say:

"We just like to be sure when it comes to plague."

Don't we all Joe. Don't we all.

Petty Family Vacation

So,

The folks just got back from a road trip vacay they took down to the States. Never ones to be accused of originality the trip is pretty much the same trip that they have taken once or twice a year for goodness knows how long. It typically involves driving all the way along the west coast to some warm southern state to attend either a motorcycle rally, a gold panning show or a woodworking convention. Clearly, there is nothing of interest there for my Mother, but as these events usually take place in a state where gambling is legal, she’s always up for it. Of course, they do other things as well and are always up for exploring new little places they happen to stumble across along the way.

This year’s trip was the first one since my Father acquired a digital camera, which he got at Christmas… a gift from my Mom, as were the ones that both my brother and I received… what can I say, when she gets an idea in her head there’s no stopping her. Although it seemed like a good idea at the time, my Father, God bless him, is unfortunately of the age where learning new things, especially things where technology is involved is just not in the cards. After several months, he finally got the hang of downloading his pictures onto the computer. Please note that my parents have a brand new computer… Windows XP etc… so all you do is literally plug the camera into the computer and it downloads itself. Now if he could only actually get the hang of taking pictures.

After walking him through the process of how to e-mail the pictures which was truly a combination of pulling teeth, banging one’s head against the wall repeatedly and wanting to drink a bottle of cyanide (Oh, you mean a paper clip in the e-mail screen. I was wondering how an actual paper clip was going to help me e-mail these to you…), I finally got some pictures. Granted, I got the same one about 8 times, but whatever… beggars can’t be choosers. But then I opened the image below and could not stop laughing… and then opened the ones that followed which were all very similar. And still could not stop laughing. It was as if my Dad was doing his best to not have any record that my Mom was on the trip at all. Or that despite my Dad’s best efforts to not take a picture of her, my Mom stepped into the frame at the last minute… my parents crack me up!

Bingo Hall Princess

So here I am on day 6 of my super fun flu-cold. And if I haven't written anything in the last couple of days, it mostly been because my days have consisted of dragging my mucus-filled head out of bed in the morning, attempting to make it through the day without going through multiple boxes of Kleenex and trying to stay awake long enough in the evening to watch my favorite shows on TV (American Idol, wtf?).

On the plus side, my head no longer feels like it weighs a ton. Not because my lovely spring visitor has gone away... but because all the crud in my head has now traveled into my throat and lungs. I now sound one of those chain-smoking 80-year-old women you can only find in bingo halls. I mean, throaty is good and all, when you are, say Demi Moore... but this is a little ridiculous!…

Under the B... bleck

Books and Bandwagons

As I can really only watch Deal or No Deal in 30 second spurts, that left to peruse the channels of my TV at will last night whilst waiting for The Apprentice to come on. As luck would have it, I stumbled across DaVinci Code week on History Television… for you Americans out there, HT is the lameass Canadian equivalent of the History Channel which we can only get up here via satellite, which licks because as a History fanatic, the History Channel is about the closest thing to perfection on TV… but now is not the time nor the place to talk about my insatiable need to delve into all things from the past…

Before I continue, I must first ascertain whether there is still a person left in the civilized world who has not read the book. If there is, then shame on you…excepting of course that you are a conservative Christian fanatic whose church will ex-communicate you if you even so much as pick up the book, let alone having to confess to your priest about having impure thoughts about reading it, thus condemning your sole to an indeterminate visit to the lower bowels of Hell… If you were anything like me, I fought against reading it, kind of like how some people refuse to read Harry Potter for the simple reason that they don’t want to jump onto that bandwagon, but honestly people…

Some bandwagons can be fun and are meant to be jumped on. I mean, it’s possible that you could find yourself on a bandwagon with a broken wheel, or even a psychotic band leader, but much of the time, the popular bandwagons are popular for a reason so it is neither here nor there if you decide to hop on for a bit… and who knows, you may even learn a new ditty or two… and what if the bandleader is really cute? I’m just saying.

Anyway, so onto the DC bandwagon I jumped on last summer and it truly was one of the most fun little jaunts I ever did have. It’s a great book, even for those of you who could care a less about history or religion… It’s just a well written story. And having read it and loved it, I’ve been sitting back and watching all the controversy surrounding it and pretty much just laughing my ass off as I imagine that Dan Brown has also been doing…for a few reasons, but mostly because of this…

Do the churches so completely have their heads in places where the sun doesn’t shine that they don’t realize the surest way to get as many people as possible to read or watch something is to tell them that they shouldn’t read or watch something? It’s kind of reminiscent of when you are growing up and your parents tell you not to do something… but you do anyway, even if you don’t really want to, because your parents told you not to. And so instead of trusting your children to make their own choices about what is right and there being a very good likelihood that said children will pay no nevermind to the temptations the world has to offer, like booze or fiction… That was, until you told them not to. Or something like that.

So despite it’s best efforts to get people to not read the book… or have them go see the movie (which comes out soon yay) the churches, have in fact, done what no amount of paid publicity could ever hope to have accomplished and have ensured that people will do just that… It’s brilliant in its simplicity. If the church had been smarter, it would have cut a deal with the publisher and movie studio for a cut of the prophets… haha… prophets… get it? Prophets? Profits? I kill me…

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming…

The Lesser Known "F" Word

Instead of having a mostest productivess weekend, I ended up coming down with the flu somewhere between 10pm when I went to bed on Friday night and 3am, when I woke up shivering like I was in a deep freeze and feeling like I had been at the losing end of a boxing match with a 300 pound kangaroo. I haven’t had the flu in a very long time. It was weird. And awful.

And you know you are really sick when you are chatting to one of the people who loves you most in the world… You know, a guy friend in whose eyes you can never do any wrong and who thinks you are a beautiful princess no matter what… and wants to see a picture of his sick little Bea, because no matter how sick she is, she is still going to be really adorable… and so you take a pic… even editing out the really bad pic that makes the weepy eyes and Rudolph red nose REALLY obvious… only to have said friend who thinks you are gorgeous no matter what say:

Oh jeez, Bea… you look like… Oh my god, you look awful… I have to delete that picture right away… oh jeez…oh lord… the image is burned into my brain… delete that picture NOW and never, ever show it to anyone… EVER.

Now if that’s not sick, then I don’t know what is!

BP

I've Got Plenty of Nuttin'

Besides living vicariously through my friends, I been mostly trying to nurse my sinuses and keep Hugh out of the loft next door. As such, not much to talk about I’m a-feared. I don’t see that changing anytime in the near future either. I really truly have no desire to date, despite most of my friends hopping on that bandwagon, and that was the source of my most entertaining exploits… to me at least. Part of me thinks that that I should actually make even an iota of an effort, but that part is a very, very small part. Think cuticle on my baby toe small.

I choose instead to maybe make friends should they come my way but to mostly concentrate on my writing YAY…

Oh, and looking for a job… unless I can convince them that I am the most awesomest employee that was ever awesomely awesome and that the whole place will fall apart if I leave…

Oh, and looking for a new place to live…

Oh, and cleaning…

Oh, and moving…

Oh, and… TBA

Bea "nuttin's plenty for me" Petty

My Friends are Cooler Than Yours Are!

First Celebrity Boyfriend Stealer goes and parties the night away with one of my favorite celebrity boyfriends (Mr. Butler). And then Girl ups and steals a shot with my favorite Olympic boyfriend (Brad Gushue). And now THIS....



For those of you who do not eat, sleep and breath all things Olympic, this is Alexandre Despatie-- silver medalist in diving from Athens. Ain't he adorable???

But I am starting to sense a pattern here.

February 2006

Bea: "I have to take the women's team to terminal one and make sure they catch their connecting flight. Can you stay here and make sure everything goes ok with the men?"

Girl: "Oh don't worry Bea, I'll make sure that the team is well taken care of"... WINK.

April 2006

Girl: "Golly Bea, it's just tooooo bad that you aren't coming to QC this year. It's going to so boring there without you. I'll have no one to party with. It's just going to be sooooooooo lame."

Bea: "Aw, Girl. You know I would go if there was a need for me. But alas, I must stay in the Big Smoke to hold down the fort and baby sit our new hire. But cheer up, you'll have a great time, I just know you will.

Girl: "No, I won't". SAD SACK.

Yeah, nice try Girl. The innocent act is just not going to cut it anymore... not on this girl... so you'll need to get up MUCH earlier in the morning to pull the wool over my eyes again. Fool me once, twice shame on — shame on you. Fool me — I can't get fooled again.

Bea "my friends are cooler than me" Petty

Tune in Next Time...

So, last night’s episode of House was pretty much the most brilliant one ever… and that is saying an awful lot…

And just a heads up for those who may not know, the second part of the episode is on tonight at 8pm… Wouldn’t want anyone to miss it.

This public service announcement has been brought to you by the fine people at Beatrice Petty Incorporated ©

"Beatrice Petty… trying the suck the most fun out of life… one day at a time…"

Mick Jagger and Eccentric Hotels

Welcome to last night's dreamland.

I will not go into detail about what role Mick Jagger might have played in one of my dreams except to say that I woke up with a smile on my face and a strong desire to go to a Rolling Stones concert. For someone in his sixties, he sure is virile.

But it was my other dream that was the more interesting of the two. How can THAT be possible you may be asking yourselves... But it's true. I guess I am having some anxiety over moving and possibly not having a job all around the same. In my dream the latter had indeed occurred so necessity dictated that I take up lodgings in a rather run-down but interesting hotel. For those of who who have seen the Great Muppet Caper think the Happiness Hotel... If you haven't seen the Great Muppet Caper then you really have not lived. That's all I will say on that topic.

Anyway, so here I was at this hotel, whose crazy steep and darkened stairway was about 1 foot wide and covered in shag carpeting from floor to ceiling. I had no idea how I was going to fit up them with all my stuff, but somehow I did and entered into the lobby through a 'being John Malkovich' sized door to find a bunch of really, really interesting people inside. The lobby was made up of what I can only describe as a penguin habitat and most of the people were swimming around, chasing each other through the little ice tunnels. They were having a blast. I couldn't wait to join them...

And then my cat started scratching at my door to get in, so I never did find out about the penguin habitat, or meet any of the other curious people in the Happiness Hotel. So very disappointed. But what I do know is that I discovered a new part of my subconscious last night... a steep, dark and narrow staircase to parts unknown makes that easy to figure out. But the rest of the dream? Hmmm... ponderous, really ponderous.

Bea "I want to see the penguin people again damnit!" Petty

And Furthermore...

Is it wrong of me to not want Tarek to get fired on The Apprentice because he is Orlando Bloom's doppelganger??? Sigh... my favorite metro(s)...

But on a different note... I actually find the British guy annoying... I think I am making great strides towards finding a cure for my addiction. Yay me!

**Update-- 10pm... God Dammit. I guess I'm down to one metro**

Kids These Days

After a thoroughly hysterical evening playing NTN trivia with my English Chemist, who I trounced... but only after hearing for over a year now about how I was going to get my ass kicked downtown and back...

We started off for the subway but somehow (I love it when you 'somehow' accidentally end up in a bar) ended up at this club called the Brunswick House. It would have been a great place... if I had been 17. But seeing as how the old girl is a lick closer to being fabulous at 40 than she is to being barely legal, I can think of other places that I would preferred to have been. In bed asleep springs to mind.

I'm not going to go into the gory details about how all the men were really, really short (are guys getting shorter these days?), or how all the girls looked a little like street walkers (I just don't get those high-heel, high-top sneaker dealies)... All I have is one simple question...

Since when did girls grinding their arse against the boys' crotches become the accepted way of dancing in a nightclub?

Bea "Call me crazy but I like to SEE the guys' face when I am dancing with him" Petty