To be or not to be – that is the question.
Whether ’til nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing, end them. To die buy, to sleep spend:
No more, and by a spend to say we end
The heartache and thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to – ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To buy, to spend –
To spend, perchance to dream! Ay, there’s the rub
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil
Must give us pause.

I bought a whole bunch of Series 8 Lego Minifigures, and I DIDN’T GET THE SHAKESPEARE ONE. So, I ordered some more. I must have him. MUST! I will lose sleep over this!

Thank goodness for free shipping and random online coupons – blind box is expensive.

But so fun!

There are a row of store fronts beneath our condo that, for most of the time we’ve lived in Sparta, have been empty. When we moved in, we secretly hoped for AWESOME STORES to move in so we could shop at home: a Kin’s Market, or a COBS, or maybe the resurrection of Voltage so I could spend all my money on toys. Hell, we’d have even taken a Starbucks, provided they promised not to burn any goddamn coffee. Unfortunately, we quickly learned that the strata was afraid of being overthrown by super-intelligent mice so they made a rule: no food vendors were allowed to rent the commercial units. I was especially annoyed/disappointed by this decision, because one of the few things I dislike about our home is the lack of convenience nearby: yes I can get a Big Mac or large double double 24 hours a day, but it’s the staples – green leafy things, bread, freshly slaughtered meats – that I wish I had immediate access to. Those kinds of businesses would make a killing (no pun intended) in our building, because there’s nothing similar around for miles and miles. It’s an ongoing erotic fantasy of mine: having access to fresh ingredients when I need them, instead of buying them at the store in case I might want to cook at some point and hoping like hell things haven’t rotted to sludge when I finally get around to using them.

That kind of crazy forward thinking will evidently get me nowhere in life. Still, businesses are slowly starting to move into the commercial space: instead of staring at a dozen “FOR LEASE” signs on my way home, I only have to stare at 7 or so. And the places we’re getting are mad useful, too:

• Meathead Muscle Man’s Protein Emporium: free steroids with every gallon of whey
• Fancy Shower Glass, for all your fancy shower stall needs
• A locksmith
• Signs! Banners! Your Face on a Sweatshirt!
• A place that does, according to Ed, the WORLD’S SLOWEST HAIRCUTS
• Extravagant Drapery; an upscale curtain place that doesn’t sell thread or know what it is
• an Asian Relaxation Spa

We all snickered wildly when the spa moved in – hahah Asian Relaxation! Mildly racist comments about oral sex for $5! Happy endings! We are all of the funny!

Turns out, we weren’t so much hilarious as we were COMPLETELY RIGHT:

grand opening!

this one doesn’t look so bad, but it’s from the Straight’s “adult services” section and every sleazy website i could find

Yeah, there’s a “full service” massage parlour in our condo building, with a steady stream (no pun intended) of clientele coming in the back door (pun slightly intended) instead of walking in off the street. I don’t know why this is – shouldn’t they be proud to let the world know they’re paying someone to manipulate their wiener around for fun and pleasure? Naturally, I’ve offered to pay for Ed to be serviced in their large rooms just like home, but he won’t take me up on my offer to my eternal disappointment and frustration. I am DYING to know what happens in there, before they inevitably get kicked out of the building (not so much because they’re touching dongs for profit, but because they’re letting customers in through the back door which is NOT ALLOWED). Maybe for Christmas, his present to me can be allowing me to pay to have his dingle fondled by strangers. I’ve been real good this year, Santa. I haven’t offered anyone a naked sensuous massage for AGES.

HAPPY HOUR!

Dear internet,

There are many things I want to share with you. Most of them are mildly amusing, with one item in particular being flat out pants-wettingly hilarious. I’ve been saving these stories for the perfect moment, and that moment was going to be today .. until, just before I left the house this morning, everything went to hell.

Did you know that vagina problems are a lot less fun to talk about when they’re not happening to me?

Something is wrong with Cheddar. I caught her trying to bury my laptop sleeve this morning, which is usually indicative of her having thrown up on it (she has lived long and is a celebrated puker). When I looked to see what sort of disgusting fluid she had left in her wake, my heart dropped out of my chest: it was blood. Thin, watery blood that was coming from her underside, and her with no way to tell me what the fuck was wrong. I yelled for Ed, and he carefully flipped her over so we could inspect her parts.

Cheddar has a swollen vulva that is leaking watery blood. She keeps licking it, but doesn’t seem all that distressed by it – she was purring at the attention; chirping and following us around to hit us with her tail. We are Freaking Out, but can’t do anything until we take her into the vet today at 4pm. I hated to leave her at home to go to work, but I’ve got a bunch of important stuff that has to be done today (as well as picking up the paycheque that will pay for this unplanned vet visit). I’m kind of useless here, though – I’m worrying about Cheddar.

I do have a food update, though: of the 8 kinds of foods we tried over the course of the last week, she took to one of them and has been eating. Unfortunately, the other two cats hate EVERYTHING and while they aren’t going on hunger strikes, they’ve been exceptionally angry and full of jerk sauce to voice their displeasure. The only one of the foods they seemed interested in is another “from the vet” type that I was trying to avoid – I would dearly love to be able to pick up cat food from any kind of pet store instead of having to run to the vet in North Vancouver every time we run out, but that does not seem to be my lot in life. Plus, I have a feeling that Cheddar will be prescribed a special urinary food to ease her renals along (assuming that’s what the problem is and not some sort of horrible feline vagina implosion), so I might as well get re-used to it.

Dumb cats.

Okay, back to freaking the fuck out. :(

This time last year, I was in London for the first time with Heather and Renee.

This time two weeks ago, I had been in London for over a week, and was in Oxford for the day hanging out with Jen and Isaac and Neil.

Can I please be back in London?

I got 99 problems, and here are two:

Cheddar is the world’s pickiest, stupidest cat. In all the 12+ years we’ve had her, we’ve found exactly two kinds of food she’ll acquiesce to eat: an old brand of Wellness dry food which, when discontinued, caused us untold amounts of panic when she refused to eat and started to lose weight at an alarming rate – and for the last 6 or so years, the “Mature” formula of Medi-Cal food originally prescribed to Sasha.

Guess what has now been discontinued?

Guess who is refusing to eat?

Goddamnit. We’ve spent close to $100 on different kinds of food in the hopes she’ll take to one of them, but so far nothing. She likes the plastic bags more than the food. We know from previous experience that “she’ll eat when she gets hungry enough” simply isn’t true when it comes to Cheddar, so we need to find an acceptable food for her asafp – she’s so stupidly picky she won’t even touch wet food, which the other two cats think is the greatest stuff in the whole world. Plus, Cheddar is a little old lady now – she wouldn’t be able to bounce back from her hunger strike as easily as she did 6 years ago. This sucks, I am stressed out, and it’s a damn good thing she’s cute.

The other marble up my ass is car shaped: the Mini is having Mysterious Issues. I drove to work today because my bus tickets disappeared into Ed’s pockets and I had no change, but the car is somewhat possessed: the turn signals wouldn’t turn off, then wouldn’t work at all. The windows won’t close, and the rear lights don’t turn off. My key won’t lock or unlock the doors, and I’m pretty sure the car is laughing at me when I get in. I made it as far as the parkade downtown when I realized I couldn’t shut the windows or lock the door, and the lights stayed on. Given our bizarre battery issues a week ago, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving the car in the lot all day with the lights on (let alone completely unlocked), so Ed made some fast phone calls and I took the Mini into the service center for an emergency exorcism. We did purchase the extended warranty when we got the car, but I don’t know that it actually covers a ghost in the machine so we’re stuck waiting around for the diagnosis because I clearly don’t have enough to worry about.

Definitely missing London today.

Given the brutality of the headache I woke up with this morning, it is entirely possible that I am going to keel over and expire any second now. If my impending doom is as near as it feels, I wouldn’t want my last blog post on this plane to be one in which I am really mean to a bunch of rotten kids .. so instead, here are some long overdue kittens in need of homes!

look at those eyes! photo by cindy hughes

Meet Marlowe! He is a gorgeous boy around 2 years old, and he needs a patient loving home with no dogs or children. He was brought to the shelter as a stray, and wasn’t able to be reunited with his family which made Marlowe a very sad boy. It took time and patience to get him to a point where he was able to trust people and accept affection, but he will still give warning growls if he feels overwhelmed. Once Marlowe is in a safe happy environment he’ll be a happy and loving kitty once again, not to mention making your house look better simply by association. He’d be okay with other cats as long as they weren’t vampire cats like mine, so if you have a place for this beautiful cat in your home, please contact Katie’s Place Shelter to arrange a meeting!

mystery kitty! photo by jackie dives

This lovely cat is an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a piece of newsprint from an eastern European country leaning towards communism and nuclear secrets. I don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy, s/he doesn’t have a name, and not much else is known other than “ooh, pretty!” Still, this very sweet kitty needs a home. If you’d like to meet him/her, please contact Lisa at Orphan Animal Pics for more information and possibly a clue in an old clock!

who am i? bring me home and give me a suitably elegant name!

Last but certainly not least, meet Stellaluna:

eeee!

I’m not even going to try to sell you on Stellaluna in my own words, because someone did such an awesome writeup of her already:

Stellaluna is a little tease, full of beans and full of fun. She roars around after her brother Sir Edmund, tackling him and rolling around like it’s wrestling night. If she could giggle, she’d giggle for hours.

She’s really fun to watch, because she’s a bit wobbly. She has what we think is scoliosis, a curved spine, and no tail. This makes her a bit pear shaped, although she’s looking slimmer and sleeker as she grows into her young body. Meantime, she is sometimes unstable when she sits on her her round rump, and it doesn’t take much to topple her over. She’s oblivious to the fact that she’s different, of course, and happily rolls onto her side and up onto her feet and carries on.

Stellaluna’s back legs aren’t as strong as a normal kittens, and when she’s tired, she drags one of them behind her. The rest of the time, they move independently…. except when she’s running, in which case she hops like a rabbit, and goes like the wind. She’s adapted well to her disability, and is able to climb up onto the bed or sofa using mostly her arms, easily keeping up with the other felines in the household. (Here’s a video of her movement: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v2FJAZmxgz4)

This kitten doesn’t need any special care now, as she looks after herself the same as any good kitten. She gets lots of exercise and activity which strengthen her legs to ensure they develop to their maximum ability. The vet tells us that later in life she may be at risk of early arthritis, possibly even to the point where amputation of one of her back legs may be required to alleviate pain as she moves from middle age to older.

Meantime, she is absolutely adorable, completely comfortable in her own skin, and comes running for hugs. She gets along well with other cats, and most especially her brother SIR EDMUND. She is one of those kittens that melts your heart and has no idea how lovely she is. You could never feel sorry for her, because she doesn’t feel sorry for herself. She is just having a blast getting to know the world and all the sights, sounds, smells and thrills that surround her.

On second thought, please none of you adopt Stellaluna because I want her for my very own. Do you think I could sneak her into Sparta? Someone go distract Ed for me while I adopt this giggly little kitten. Of course, you could always try to beat me to it by contacting VOKRA and arranging a meeting, but that would be mean of you because I want to cuddle Stellaluna and shower her with kisses.

bunny kitty! all pictures by jackie dives!

Vancouver’s rainy season has started, and you know what goes well with rain and pumpkin-spice lattes? KITTENS! Go adopt them now!

*ring*

“Hello, Elementary School near your house, how can I help you?”

“I am a grumpy, child-hating curmudgeon. Your students are loud, ill-mannered little beasts, and I demand you correct their behaviour immediately. You should consider using force, because children these days are simply horrible and they won’t learn to be quiet unless you put the fear of a good paddling into them.”

*click*

Hmm. Let’s try that again.

*ring*

“Hello, Elementary School near your house, how can I help you?”

“Yes, I live across the street from where your students patrol the crosswalks in the morning. Today, the two young boys at the intersection have been yelling across the street to one another all morning, and it’s terribly loud. My small child is sick, and she can’t get to sleep because of the noise they’re creating. I’ve lived here for a few years now and this is the first time I’ve heard this kind of noise from the students, so it’s not normally a problem but it’s upsetting my baby so ..”

“Oh goodness, I am very sorry! I will speak to someone about this immediately, thank you for letting us know!”

Mission accomplished!

Yeah, I’m evil enough to make up a fake child and give her the flu in order to get my way. For some dumb reason people seem to be much more willing to help out poor Mother Sally with her sick baby than they are Grumpy Stanley who just plain hates noise and obnoxious kids, so sometimes a bit of subterfuge is needed.

Evil Kimli is evil. And this isn’t even the most evil fake baby I’ve had, either, but that’s a story for another time.

I really hate noise. I should live in a cave.

I will miss the following things about the UK:

• The price and availability of fresh food made with real ingredients
• The glorious things the soft water does to my hair
• The Tube!
• The history and culture and all the bricks everywhere!
• Marks & Spencer – please come back to Canada (and bring those Lemon Curd Cheesecakes with you OH MY GOD they’re good)

I will NOT miss the following things about the UK:

• The combination washer/dryer that takes 3 hours to do anything
• The taste of the water – my stomach clenches just thinking about it
• Why was it so hard to get ice cubes?
• “Large Diet Coke, please” *hands me a medium* :((((

I’ve been back in Vancouver for 3 days and I am already THOROUGHLY SICK of the following:

• Traffic noise
• Assholes honking their horns
• That stupid fucking crosswalk button outside my bedroom window that I am going to take a fucking baseball bat to
• Dirty looks from women on the bus and in downtown Vancouver – lady, those are my SHINS. What the hell kind of problem do you have with my bare legs that could warrant that kind of sneer? Did shins kill your father? This is just a friendly suggestion from me to you, but I bet if you pulled that stick out of your ass you might find the grave injustices of the world – like my knee-length skirt – a little easier to ignore. Just a thought.

I’m all covered up today and everything, too. Nasty lady.