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Diaryland

I Start Fires!

Lexiroth
Her Rainess
Lizsama
'Cedez
Moonie
Pipey
Timofsky
Motro
Squeeky
Lady Maverick
DM
Shoisies
Chokie

2002-08-26

Piggy's specs were nicked at: 12:10 a.m.

Update: August 26th, 9:31 pm -- God, I fucking hate Anne McAffey. Have I ever mentioned that? Probably not enough.

The donations are going well thanks to nice peole, and God, I can't wait to get my computer back. I'm going to strip naked and dance in the street until they arrest me, I swear. Or maybe I'll just rip my top off. I'll still be making a statement, but I can't be arrested 'cuz Toronto women are allowed to go topless. Ha! Not that I've ever taken the bylaw up on its generous offer. My dad says that the topless law in Toronto must've been the fastet-passed law in history:

"Article #5489. Should women in Toronto be allowed to go topless--" "YES!!" *Gavel falls*.

A cricket found its way into our humble basement. David tried to shoo it out the door and ended up driving it between the walls instead. Then it found its way into our bedroom and chirped its merry song. Torment torment torment. David tore the place apart, but he finally caught it and released Crickee into the wild. Be free, little cricket. If it were up to me, you would've met the business end of a can of Raid.

But at least our bedroom is all cleaned up now. I found my stuffed Mew, Vulpix, and the bottle of screws that were drilled into my jaw after my jaw surgery seven years ago. Then they became infected and had to be taken out six months later. Six suckers, each a little less than an inch long.

I remember that jaw surgery, it was rough. Six weeks of mushy foods, and my face swelled up so badly, my lip split and I still have the scar. I also reacted badly to the anesthetic and spent the night and a day in the ICU, trying to throw up with my mouth wired shut. Action!

And there's no worse tormenter than the human mind. I became seriously depressed after the surgery. I used to dream about eating barbequed chicken and potato salad (the first meal I requested when I was able to eat solids again). If you want strange, here's one for you. I also had a dream where I was abducted by aliens, and they offered me a salami sandwich. Man.

At least I got a private room at the hospital, even though I wasn't insured for it. I don't mind wards, though. Wards are fun.

I joined Critters.org, a workshop wherein people critique each others' stories. I submitted "Rope Halter" which some of you might remember. I've gotten mostly good reviews, although the bad stuff all contridicts each other. "I hate the ending." "I love the ending." etc. Some people even managed to find a deep message within. I don't know how that works, but hey.

I don't know why, but today I remembered the time David and I were driving on Highway 401 and it was really late, somewhere around 3 a.m. There was a huge accident, and the Express Lanes were all closed down until 6 a.m., so the cars within were stuck until morning. Everyone was just kind of milling about ... it looked like something out of an REM music video. And just in case we had to be reminded about what city we were in, a handful of guys occupying two different vehicles quickly organized a game of hockey and settled down to play right there on the Express Lanes of Yonge St and the 401.

We need an equivilent of Jeff Foxworthy up here. "You might be Canadian if..."

Actually, they say you aren't really a Canadian if you haven't screwed in a canoe. Do empty parkettes count...? Oops.