Wish List of Stuff We Think We Want

Potential Strollers

- Valco
retailed @ PinkyBlue on Queen Mary

- Kolocraft Universal Car Seat Stroller

- Bugaboo Frog or Chameleon (crazy expensive, need to find a deal)

- Rock Star Baby

Other Stuff

Bumbo Baby Seat

Oeuf Baby Lounger

Mobile by Julie Frith (maybe make this?)

High Chairs

Svan High Chair http://www.svanusa.com/

Stokke Trip Trap: http://www.stokkeusa.com/tripptrapp.htm

The Countdown

testing... gosh it's been awhile.

Went in to work on Monday morning to discover my company was having layoffs that day. An hour later, discovered I was one of them. Part of me is in a panic, the other part of me keeps whooping, "Whoo hoo! Paid vacation!!"

Winning side TBD.

I barely noticed I was gone...

It's been awhile. So long, in fact, that Spain has come, gone, and faded into the noise. So long that the herculean task of organizing photos and souvenirs is long done. So long that friends have apologetically removed me from their links lists. So long that I can't really remember why I started this. So I think I'll wade back in all slow-like, with a little game that has apparently been going around in my absence. To play, just enter "[yourname] is" in any ole search engine and let the fun begin.

I am.

SUSAN is a quick and subtle board game for two players.
SUSAN is DABOMB
Susan is also available as a single plain ASCII e-text file
Susan is no stranger to Canadian television and radio audiences
Susan is an ethical woman and is refusing to cooperate.
Susan is a sequential learner
Susan is at #70 in French Maxim's 100 Hot list, up from #84 last year.
Susan is no stranger to the Northwest club scene and private event venues.
Susan is used to being stepped on and to having to survive on her own.
Susan is so much more demanding than my beanie babies
Susan is one hell of a driver!
Susan is a natural kite flier.
Susan is available for both large and small commissions.
Susan is moving toward the oncoming lightbeam.
Susan is soft, furry, and more absorbant than cotton.
Susan is a style doctor, who does house calls.
Susan is the only surviving timber-built Chelmer barge.
Susan is not a big fan of the "vomit draft"
Susan is frank, forthright and feisty

And, as I've been trying to tell you people all along...

Susan is right.

T-minus Two Hours

I'm just thiiiis close to the start of my vacation and, shortly thereafter, three weeks in Spain. Every moment of waiting is torment, relieved only slightly by running through the few key Spanish words that I know. Hola. Cervesa, por favor.

If there's internet access to be found, I plan to try and blog a trip diary, more for myself than my 4.5 person-strong readership. If not, there's always paper.

By the time I get back, this crap weather better have turned to summer in Montreal. Or at least to an enthusiastic spring. I'm warning you.

Them's my boys!

Today I've got a voice that's rough, and scratchy, and pitched down to a low rumble... sort of Melissa Etheridge after long scotch and cigarettes bender.

This is what happens to a gal when she spends three hours screaming.

Every save, every shot on goal, the good and lousy penalty-killing, roaring epithets at those big nasty Bruins, sending coaching advice down from a hundred feet above the ice, making sure they could hear how much we loved them every single time that puck tucked into the net -- it all takes alot out of the ol'cords. But it's a sacrifice I was willing to make. A badge of honour, if you will.

What a game.

Three in a row in the third when we were down 3-1. Three in five minutes. Saku scoring the winning goal. What a goddamn game.

The only sour note in the night, far worse than the two in a row we let in, was caused by the fans. Booing the American national anthem was something I never thought I'd see, especially in Montreal. It was an appalling lack of class. I was so embarassed I could have walked down there and apologised to the Bruins myself.

Some have said that it was payback for the Pistons fans booing Toronto the other night during O Canada but, frankly Scarlett, I don't give a damn. It sucked to hear it come from us.

But there was a nice surprise too. Two Boston fans were alone in the cheap seats; the Blues, where everyone's got a painted chest, face, or arse that they wave at the cameras. And where, coincidentally enough, 75% of the Molson sales happen. Those Boston boys were taking alot of heckling. At one point, about a hundred people started up a chant of "ass-holes! ass-holes!". If the Bruins won, I feared they were gonna be killed.

After the end of the first a group of red-and-blue painted frat boys wearing what seemed to be giant Habs socks on their heads made there way towards the lone bit of yellow and black. I watched anxiously. After a moment or two, in that mysterious way guys have, they suddenly became friends. Much masculin hand-shaking and arm-slapping occured and then everyone dispersed to their corners with a smile and another beer. Sometimes, I really love guys.

And I will always love those Habs.