Extra, extra read all about it! February 29, 2008

Some of you may have heard that I made myself some new year’s resolutions this year. For any of those who aren’t aware I’ll list them for you so we can all examine and assess my failure together:

1) eat well – visit naturopath re: health & diet
2) keep blog – in the hopes of improving short-term memory
3) watch less tv & do more constructive things with my time (ya, I know, right? In my defence how was I to know they’d have the first-ever winter edition of Big Brother AND a fans vs. favourites Survivor AND America’s Next Top Model in New York all going on at once?)
3b) read more (in all the time that I’m now, of course, not watching tv)

4) wait a sec… what was number 2 again?
5) remove make-up, wash face and moisturize every night before bed
6) watch more interesting movies (currently John and I exclusively watch the WORST comedies and/or action adventure movies ever created. you would think we consult some kind of a directory to help us find the worst-acted, worst-written, worst-reviewed movies EVER but we actually just seem to gravitate toward them without any help or intervention at all. It’s a gift)
6) read the paper and/or watch the news

Now yes, it’s true, I’ve failed at just about every one of these resolutions but let’s not forget, internet, that it’s still early in the year and I’d have to check my manual but I think technically you do have until at least, like, May before you can deem it a TRUE failure so we’ll see how it goes. In any case, it is #6 that I’d like to address in my blog today. The news. The god-damned flipping stoopid news. I know I should know what’s going on in the world, right? that’s the thing grown-ups do and it’s just, I dunno, important, right? But my struggle is that it’s all just a little DE-pressing, ya know? Like, if I wanted to be depressed I’d go weigh myself, thanks.

So anyway, today in the mail we recieved our quarterly newsletter from the zoo (yes, we’re card-carrying zoo members. Now that we have a two-year-old it seemed like a more responsible choice than our usual annual membership to the museum of pornography and weapons). So, forever haunted by my nearly-failed new year’s resolutions I thought to myself, “now this must count as news, no?” and I grabbed it as I was on my way out the door to read on the streetcar. Well, let me tell you, internet, that if THIS was the way all news read I would have hit resolution #6 out of the park by January 15th. I’d totally read the news every day if it was all Zoo News. Here are a few exerpts from the Zoo News for you all to enjoy (and few editorial jackass comments because… well… do I really need a reason?)

Two female snapping turtles were returned to the exhibit with the male. He attempted to breed one of them, pinning her in the pool. She was not interested in him. (ya, no shit. That snapping turtle’s not nooooooo game. Let’s hope for his sake that pool’s got a swim-up bar cuz he’s gonna need cocktails, looooooots of cocktails)

Western grey kangaroo, “Quiranda”, died. She was 18 years old and came to Toronto from Chicago in 1995. (see? it’s not like I’m trying to bury my head in the sand. The Zoo News has got grit)

Elephants weighed – their weights range from 8,200 lbs to 8,800 lbs (damn, that’s more than me! unlike me the elephants must have been really depressed to read the zoo news)

Reindeer, “Comet”, is coming into rut. He is grunting and attacking the fence. (?!)

Komodo dragon, “Loka”, was given an ultrsound – she may have eggs present. (seems it’s not only humans who are obsessed with their fertility. Maybe Loka should try acupuncture. I’ve heard it works wonders)

Solomon Island Monkey Tailed Skink gave birth to two offspring. She is being very protective of them. This species does not lay eggs but gives birth to live young. (Skink! tee hee)

Naked molerat, “Queen”, is so pregnant now that she is getting stuck in the tubes in her exhibit. (For the love of christ, someone get that poor effing molerat some maternity pants! All us procreators know how it feels to be so big you’re getting stuck in the tubes in your exhibit but to have to do it naked?! that’s just adding insult to injury)

Gorilla, “Charles”, was very upset at the Hammerkop that was released into the free flight aviary. He let out two alarm calls and postured at the bird for quite a while. (Man, don’t you wish people dealt with all their issues by ‘posturing’? Lawd knows I’d enjoy seeing two drunken, testosteron-fuelled boys engaging in a vogue-off outside a bar)

Male saki monkey, “Teriyaki”, was startled and started vocalizing when he spotted a visitor dressed in a Sponge Bob Squarepants Halloween costume.

See? Are you with me internet? wouldn’t you looove reading the paper every day if these were the kinds of stories you knew you were in for? I think the Zoo News should at the very least be a section in the big-people papers to lift our spirits a little – you know: “shooting, flood, shooting, political debate, Saki monkey vocalizing at Sponge Bob Squarepants, hurricane, shooting…” it just makes it all a little easier to swallow, non?

This blog entry is dedicated to the late Quiranda, may she rest in peace.

BOYS! February 28, 2008

I’ve been conducting a little impromptu science experiment ever since I  birthed a little boy just over 2 years ago. It plays upon the nature vs. nurture theme and evolved somewhat independently and in many ways thanks to the fact that I know a lot of little girls that were born around the same time as Julian; in particular John’s sister’s daughter, Samantha; thus, Jules has a female cousin who he visits and plays with often and I get to observe them in my little science lab (a.k.a. the livingroom) and perform gruesome experiments on them.

So basically, we live in a world that undoubtably sets up gender stereotypes but at this point in their little lives, there has been some “ooh, Samantha, play with these Barbies” and “ooh, Julian, here’s a dinky car, go crash it into a pile of robot monsters”, but I’ve gone out of my way to make sure I play nurturing games with Jules and I’ve tried not to steer him toward “boyish” games and toys and/or steer him away from “girlish” games and toys (yes, he has a lavendar-coloured mini baby stroller decorated with butterflies that he takes his teddies for walks in and yes, he enjoys the Dora True Princess video a little too much and proclaims “Mummy, I wanna be a princess too!” Ma boy is comfy with his feminine side, y’all) Yet, there are things about a boy even as early as a few MONTHS old that are just… boyish… and things about girls that are just girlish (and let me clarify that I’m calling this a science experiment but there’s nothing scientific about it, it’s just my own tired and nonsensical ramblings and I’m sure there are a zillion exceptions to these rules  and I get it so eff off with your “I have a little girl who doesn’t do any of those things blah blah blah. I’m sure she’s a genius and you should be very proud). So ANYHOO, the little girls I know have tended, in the first years of life, to be somewhat more complex, they are a little more clingy & emotional, they are moodier, they listen a little more (I was SHOCKED one day when my friend told her daughter to “come back here” and she turned around and came back…. what the hell is that? kids do that? by the time I tell Jules “hey, come back here” he’s down the block & around the corner elbow-deep in something unsanitary), there’s just more seemingly going on upstairs. Boys seem to be a little more easy going and adaptable, they don’t listen, they do crazy things like jump off surfaces that are high into a pile of things that are sharp just for fun and to see what happens and the thought bubble that’s connected to their heads by imaginary cloud-puffs seems to continually read “huh?”. God bless ‘im Jules runs around merrily in his little footy pajamas just going around in circles sometimes adding a little “jingle bells” or a simple “da da da da daaaaaaaaaaa” around and around and around and around. For nothing. Thinking nothing. While in the same span of time Samantha will go through a cacauphony of emotions. She seems to think about everything and feel everything. We’ll announce that it’s time to go and Sammy’s all “what you’re leaving? Dear God no! Say it isn’t true. I must burst into floods of tears… I’ll miss you. What will I do without you? waaaannnnhhhh” and Jules goes “Can I have a snack?”. It’s such a huge part of why I love him, though (and isn’t it just why we love all the men?) they’re so simple and make all our ups and downs and carryings-on seem ridiculous and overblown. It happens at the age of 2 just as it does at the age of 32.

AND my little science experiment makes me want to shout out to every single girl I’ve ever known and even those I don’t: I want to tell any girl who’s ever agonized over something her new dude said or didn’t say or what he was “thinking” or whether he really meant this when he said that and blah blah de flipping blah blah… Honey, nuh-uh. He didn’t mean anything. Aaaaaaalllll he was thinking was “huh?” and maybe, if the timing was right, he was thinking about a snack.

Hmm, this poses a little problem February 22, 2008

So it turns out that I’m such a god-damn blogging whore that I can’t manage to keep one of my own. Every night (well, not EVERY night… I have a life people) (er, well, a PVR anyway) I sit down with my laptop to write a new post and then I check some of the other blogs that I love and then I have a snack and then, well, I’m kinda sleepy, and…. BUT tonight I had my ladies over for some dinner and wine and now here I am so I’ve realized what I need to become a daily blogger – a daily dose of ALCOHOL! So that’s it, I’ll just start drinking more. And thus posting more. Promise.

Oh, ya, and here’s a question: am I the only one who doesn’t give a crap about the Oscars anymore? I mean, am I going to watch them? Sure. Will I critique all of the outfits and deem that every single woman there could stand to gain 15lbs? (I mean, didn’t you, like, ALL just have babies?) Of course. But will I enjoy it? I doubt it. Maybe it’s just because I have a kid and don’t really get out to many movies these days but I just don’t feel the hype. Come to think of it I haven’t even seen any commercials for them this year and lord knows I’ve been logging many hours watching the small screen (loving the reality tv onslaught right now BTW) so maybe I’m not the only one who doesn’t care.

Moving on to something I do care about desperately, the cutest kid EVER, my son, I’m going to start trying to update julian’s blog on a regular basis as well (cuz if you can’t manage to post on one blog, why not commit yourself to another one?!) so if you’re interested in what he’s thinking about life, check out julianahn.blogspot.com

 c ya!

k

One for da ladies February 8, 2008

I  had THE greatest night last night. It was fantastic. There was a FUSE anniversary party so I showed up and took lots of pictures to give the ladies on the other side of the ocean a full-blown idea of what went down (that was truly my motivation throughout the entire evening – going undercover for you. SO even tho you guys weren’t there you were the best company I had cuz I was, like, laughing to myself at the joke I would have told if you’d been there… what that means in reality is I was a psycho walking around by myself drinking & chuckling. It’s doubtful that I’ll be invited back to the next FUSE event).

The joy of the evening began on the streetcar on the way there when I was confronted by a religious solicitor! I was so stoked – that’s never happened to me before. I’m so excited about it, in fact, that I think I’m going to give you a blow-by-blow  in the form of a mini screen play:

Moderately busy TTC streetcar. A woman in a red touque sits alone reading a novel. A young religious guy enters.

Religious Guy: “Excuse me, are you interested in learning about the Book of Mormon?”

Kirstin: “The book of moron? Dude, I, like, wrote that book. There ain’t nuthin you can teach me. Like, just the other day I was…”

Religious Guy: “No, no… not moron, mor-MON.”

Kirstin: “Well, what is that? Some kind of rastafarian self-help book?”

Religious Guy: “No, no, no. Not ‘More Mon’, the Book of MORMON it’s a record of the… oh, you know what, just forget it. Driver can I get off?”

THE END

 I may finish this screen play one day and call it “The City Girl’s Guide to Annoying and Repelling The Masses”. I figure I should put my meager talents to good use.

On the way home I was drunk and, thus, felt like smoking so I bummed a cigarette off a particularly scruffy-looking fellow who then felt so inclined as to regale me with his opinions on U.S. politics (uh, sir? I watch Survivor, NOT so much the news and don’t have the energy to have particularly strong opinions on Canadian politics. let alone American ones, sooooo, unless you have an update for me on the ‘favourites vs. fans’ premiere I’d prefer we don’t talk)

All of the stuff in between was, ya know, drunken debauchery. Here are a few visual highlights:

JJ & Stephen, looking like rockstars as usual

The ever-hot & scintillating Shawn Malone

A little self-portrait action with Brent

Lou, inside a hot club in a heavy peacoat trying to ignore the paparazzi

This one’s for you, A. If ONLY I’d had the foresight to bring a couple of Julian’s bathtoys (namely the mother duck & her babies) this is where I would have held them up over her head. Failing that I really badly wanted to lick her face but I chickened out at the last minute and just made this stoopid grinning face instead. I also wasn’t smart enough to go for the full-body shot so you could have seen the * he-hem * green leather pants.

And, of course, the piece de resistance. DP 7 months preggers! She’d due April 17 and has almost entirely quit smoking… (?!)

I

Bill was also there looking sour but I barely spoke to him and Mark Evans and I partnered up to go investigate an incident involving some guy getting carried out by a team of EMTs. We are aparently better at drinking & smoking than investigating because I never did find out for sure what happened but in my mind it was a deadly mixture of qualudes & cocaine (in reality it was likely some apple juice and a banana peel but whatever… )

Anyway it was good times but there were a few key ex-FUSE employees who were SORELY missed. Miss you ladies!

k

I’m soooooo busy February 7, 2008

Yesterday I did nothing NOTHING that was the least bit useful or constructive. Julian and I went to the judgy, hippy playcentre up the street in the a.m. (side note: I hate that place. Seriously. It’s supposed to be this inviting, lovey atmosphere where the walls are painted with trees and little fuzzy animals and all are welcome to come and nestle into the warm bosom of this place of sharing and enjoy their children together blah blah wretch wretch… but I go there and the organizer-woman says “Oh hi, so nice to see you. We haven’t seen Julian here in a while” translation: “I guess you’ve been keeping him locked up in a closet feeding him non-organic dog food” and then she tells me there’s freshly made tea and coffee in the kitchen! Jeez. Seriously, can you believe that? What a bitch. Wanh wanh. But honestly, I walk through that place and all the parents are so “involved” with their kids and I feel guilty when I whip out Julian’s pre-packaged toddler snacks cuz all their kids are eating shade-grown organic homemade buckwheat crackers or some sh*% and when Jules wants to paint a picture I feel like they’re all watching me to see whether I’m a negligent mom who’s going to let him throw paint all over the walls and me and himself BUT if I hover over him to make sure he keeps his paint where it’s supposed to be they’re tsking to themselves because I’m stifling his artistic expression. And if we’re doing puzzles they’re judging me because I’m helping him too much or not helping enough. And god forbid my child should mention a television character, which he tends to do often (Dora and Toopy & Binoo are very important to us. VERY important) I think I’m the only mother there who has cable let alone *gasp* allows their child to watch it). Where are all the freaking moms who want to show up at a playcentre with their venti starbucks cup [disposable... no, I do not take my own travel mug] and ignore their kids so they can talk about last night’s reality TV show or the disaster that is Britney Spears? Is it too much to ask? Doesn’t anyone else want to steal a big, loungy pillow away from some book-loving child so that they can sit under a fake-wall-painted tree and relax? I want to do the bare minimum to keep my child from getting hurt while gossiping with other ladies and getting some social interaction. I mean, if I wanted to be involved and “play” with Julian I could stay home. At this playcentre it just all feels very staged – like they’re all doing it to show what good parents they are. I’m a good parent when no one’s around to see. I leave the house so that I can get a BREAK from that. I leave the house so that I can NEGLECT my child, dammit. Is that so wrong?) (don’t answer that) (and please don’t call Child Services) (Nor the Committee of Parentheses Overutilization)

So aaaanyhoo, Jules had a long nap and I managed to do… well… nothing constructive (as mentioned above). I didn’t even make dinner – we ate leftovers. Then we put Julian to bed so that John could get some good, solid studying done and I could be uber-motivated and pack all the stuff we have at my mom’s but at the last minute we changed our plans to include watching “How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days” on tv. I love that movie. Ooh, in fact, I can’t say that I didn’t do anything constructive because I did ponder (during a commercial break) who I’d probably choose to have sex with if I could pick from anyone in Hollywood. I think my top 5 are as follows (and in no particular order):

1) Matthew McConaughey (obviously he spawned this serious contemplation and exercise in personal growth because I was watching his FINE self on the small-screen)
2) Aiden from Sex in the City (yes, I realize this is a character, not a person, but it’s my list so F-off)
3) Justin Timberlake (I don’t know what it is. I had a dream once, it changed things…)
4) Daniel Craig (007. Nuf said)
5) Ryan Renolds (oh, did I mention that I’m going to force John to go see that terrible-looking valentine’s day movie with Ryan Renolds and that creepy kid actor who’s way too mature for her age? I am. And I’m going to eat a big chocolate bar that’s intended to be shared by several people but I’ll eat it all myself.)

This morning Julian and I went to the drop-in parent/kid swimming at the pool around the corner and it was awesome because for once I wasn’t the terrible mother who didn’t notice that her child was playing with roadkill on the street or whatever. Another woman was chatting (or I might even hasten to say flirting) with a dad that was there with his kid; meanwhile her toddler son went head-first off the edge of the pool into the water and it took her a good few seconds (that felt like hours to all of us watching the horror unfold) to get to him and pull him out. Ha ha – sucker. I didn’t drop my kid in the pool once (this week) (oh, shit, but he did fall off a step into a basket of dirty laundry and scratch his face earlier today. Talk about adding insult to injury when you not only fall but fall into a pile of your mother’s dirty undewear. Glech).

Anyway, tonight I seriously have to do something productive so I’d better go start getting motivated now cuz it’ll take some doing. So that’s it from me. Peace out.

Oh WAIT, one more thing. Can I tell you, internet, that my son is way too cute. He indulges me in my useless observations and makes up for the hippy moms that don’t know how to socialize. Like, for instance, he just woke up from his nap and we put on “the big comfy couch” and I observed that Lunette’s hair was looking particularly frizzy and that she’d benefit from some kind of hot-oil treatment and he totally humoured me, nodded and said, “uh-huh… frizzy” while pointing at the tv. Cute.