Monday, July 25, 2005

You won't see your name on this blog.

In the interest of personal privacy, Dear Reader, you will never see your name mentioned on this blog, though if you choose to comment on my blog which name you use is up to you. The exceptions are Aly and Ramon, who I mentioned by name without thinking early on - sorry, luvs. Since I have many loved ones (friends and family) that I wish to speak of in my blog I have created new names for all of you. The name I choose is either one that sounds a great deal like your name or is something I'd actually call you if I didn't know your name and someone put a gun to my head and ordered me to choose one for you. Therefore, my brother and sister-in-law are not actually named Chad and Kaitlyn, though the names, I think, are terribly apropos. Ani and Kevin, likewise.

This might be fun for you - or not. If you wish to find out what I'll call you (with the aforementioned gun to my head) please contact me. If you find out what I'm calling you and hate it, please contact me and I'll discuss options with you. Or, if you've not been mentioned by name but feel sure you will be soon and wish to choose my blog name for you, please contact me and we'll chew it over together. Sorry, Gorgeous Sonuvabitch is already taken. So is Cougar. Ash, your name stands. Aly, I can't figure out anything for you - you're too magnificent to name and I think you'd hate being called "Rio."


Lavender Bits Pt. 2

I spoke to my soap-lady about how I love the lavender soap but could do without the encrustation (is that a word?) of dried lavender flowers on it. She calmly replied that it's the easiest thing in the world to cut off the bits with a knife. And so it is. Consumer relations at its finest.


Tommy Hilfiger Sheets

Oh, lordy, it's been a long time since I posted an entry. So sorry to those of you who continue to astonish me by showing up and looking around for new stuff. Poor suckers.

This weekend I got stuck at Macy's. You see, my brother and his wife had picked me up to go to a mutual friend's party - a lovely time was had by all, thank you to Ani and Kevin. On the way home from said party they (brother and sister-in-law, who hereafter shall be known as Chad and Kaitlyn) decided that they couldn't spend another rotten night on their old, flat pillows and had to go to Macy's RIGHT THEN to check out the bedding sale. I sympathised. Nothing's scarier than lying awake fearing that this weird insomnia might last forever if you let it go on too long. After having secured my wholehearted agreement, of course, we were off to red star land. We needed new sheets.

I found sheets in the most sublime colors, my friends. Of the Tommy Hilfiger brand. I can't remember any of the other sublime colors, though, because I saw the beautiful turqoise ones and looked no further. These sheets are headace-inducing, eye-popping, keep-you-awake-at-night electric blue. Since our goal is to paint the bedroom Pepto-Bismol and then decorate with darker sari colors, these sheets will go great with the walls. We'll never get any sleep. [My inner 18-year-old, who still strives to make me cool with all her heart, is quailing right now at the thought that I'm actually publically saying that I care about and enjoy sheet-shopping. But then, she's in a permanent state of horror that I'm an office drone instead of a rock star, too, so...]

I've loosely boycotted Tommy's stuff for quite some time now on the rumor that he had said that his clothes were never meant to be worn by people of the non-white-skin variety on an Oprah show. Since bigotry is one of my hot buttons (you don't even KNOW), I just screamed "RACIST!" and never bought his stuff. For years. Now, I've found out to my shame that this rumor, more of an urban myth, really, has no ground and has been categorically debunked by Tommy, Oprah and the Anti-Defamation League. Of course, we'll probably never know the truth about the Inner Tommy Hilfiger and his opinions about those who do not share his skin color, but I'm choosing to believe that all's well in the Hilfiger Kingdom and that I need to study up on rumors a little more carefully as a consumer. And that's not just because the sheets are the new love of my life.

Domestically yours,

Friday, July 08, 2005

It's a brave new blog.

Ladies and gentlemen. Cerise of the steel-trap-mind has now figured out how to ensure that anyone, not just registered users, can now comment on her blogs. Oh, lovely "settings" menu. I know that you were all just waiting on your toes for this moment.

Comment away, Dear Reader!


Top Five Things I Love About My Husband

Studies now show that the more specific a new wife is able to be about listing attributes she values in her husband, the longer their marriage is likely to last. The more vague she is ("nice guy, fun, funny, intelligent") the more likely the couple will become disenchanted rather quickly with each other and they'll be much less likely to weather the storms of marriage well. Though we've been married too long now for me to be considered a new wife, I still see the merit in listing your beloved's good points as often as possible. AND, I want things to go on in our marriage as long as possible, so in a panic I've decided to make my first all-time, top-five list of things I really love about Ramon. In no particular order:

1. His gentleness. Ramon's got his good points and bad points, his kindnesses and cruelties, but I have never seen him act in a cavalier or precipitous manner toward anyone (including me). He has never raised a hand to any animal or human - besides some minor shoving matches with his brother as children. I have never heard him raise his voice in anger. He rarely says things to people that he regrets later. This is probably a normal by-product of the fact that he tends to be quiet, more passive and avoids conflict, but I still think it's noteworthy (and since I'm a human hurricane sometimes - blowing around saying this is 'dreadful' and that person's a fool, shouting and cursing and later apologizing extravagantly) that he...takes care with people's feelings.

2. His hair. The man's got killer hair; glossy, black-brown, straight, silky and soft. It parts in the middle and hangs around his forehead in two perfect wings. It falls perfectly back in place when one runs one's hands through it. I hate being married to someone with prettier hair than me, but I sure love to have it around. Even if it's not mine.

3. His serenity. Ramon can be troubled, careworn, peevish and frustrated just like any human, but he mostly walks around in a personal well of peace. It's great to live around. We've been a couple for ten years now, and even though I have about as much peace wafting around me as a tornado, his general air of well-being is even rubbing off on me. He is one of the most self-actualized people I've ever met. He is who he is and you are who you are and the fact that he accepts you as you are makes him the finest friend I have. He'll acknowledge something he doesn't like about my behavior, but it's in a "yeah, it's rough sometimes. So what? Change or don't change - we'll deal with it either way" sort of manner.

4. His aspirations. Ramon wants all the good stuff. He wants no one to go hungry. He wants the entertainment industry to focus more on authentic expression and less on money. He wants people of different religions, cultures and countries to get along and work things out. He wants to be a freelance artist - not rich, he just wants to make enough cabbage doing what he does best to pay the rent and keep himself in Dickies and software. He wants to be physically fit. He wants to pick up the trumpet again and play in a jazz group. He wants to become a faster reader. He wants to record really good industrial and experimental electronic music. He wants to learn a bunch of languages. He wants to live and do his work in Europe - preferably warm, coastal parts of Spain. What he wants makes him who he is - I love him as much for his dreams as I do for what's there in the here and now.

5. [you of the weak stomachs may want to pass this one up] His affection. Thiiiis is a selfish one, I admit, and hopefully he never reads my blog any more, but he just loves me really well. He's not generally a demonstrative person, but I never, never go wanting for gestures of love. And if I'm feeling neglected (rare) a word will bring him into my arms professing adoration. I hear "I love you" at least 5 times a day (I'm not kidding). We play email chess and I can expect a kind message along with a devilish move (I suck at chess) every day. He even wakes up in the morning to give me a hug and a kiss before I leave for work (he works later than I do - bastard).

6. [all RIGHT, I know this is a top five list - sue me naked!] His laugh. He has the best laugh I've ever heard. He chuckles a lot, but when you hear that loud laugh from his whole body you KNOW you've just said something really, really funny. I spend a lot of time and energy trying to make him really laugh. I also love watching "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" with him because there are parts of it that get him every time.

So, there you go. I'm married to a prince. Monchis, if you read this blog I really hope you're not too embarrassed, honey. Poor man.


Thursday, July 07, 2005

So sorry, dear London.

I grieve today for the tragedy that has struck London, even as I rejoiced yesterday that they had won the bid for the 2012 Olympics. The sight of bleeding, sooty, shell-shocked Londoners clutching blankets and water bottles tears at my heart. Grace and healing to everyone in England today. My sorrow and prayers are with you.


Friday, July 01, 2005

Happy Canada Day!

Oh, Caaaaa-na-daaaaa, our home and native laaaaaaand.
Truuuuue paaaa-triot luuuuuuv, within our hearts com-maaaaand!
With gloooow-ing hearts wee-hee seeeee thee rise...


Dear Friends to the North, will you harbor me and Ramon when George W. appoints Jerry Falwell or one of his ilk to the now-vacant Supreme Court post? Please say yes.