Thugs Need Hugs

I asked John why the douchebags who are smashing things up during the G20 because they're supposedly anti-capitalist or some such don't go out and do this every night if they feel so strongly about their cause.

"Because they're opportunists," he said.

It got me thinking about the whys of violence, of such rampant and reckless destruction without any real gain. Who are these vigilantes who have decided to commit such heedless acts of thuggery?

It's easy to dismiss them as "losers" who "don't have jobs" and "illiterate, sewer-trekking scum." But there's something else driving their black, soulless, misdirected anger.

After watching an episode of Glee, I realized what that something was. In one of my favorite rip-him-a-new-one moments, Kurt's dad says:

"You live a few years you start seeing the hate in people’s hearts, even the best people."

These people are infected with hate. They have a disease of the heart and mind that causes them to lash out in terrible ways and justify their actions with some flimsy excuse. They only come out at these moments when everyone can see them because they don't really believe in their cause enough to put in the energy or effort into fighting for what they believe in. If they did, they would do so clandestinely, with long-term plans and goals. They'd have systems and structure and funds and means, and they'd have the fervent belief that what they are doing is for the greater good. In other words, they'd be terrorists.

But all these window-smashing, car-burning lunks are are misguided thugs.

They're out there with their masks and their bats and their anger because they are crying out for help. They want to be seen. They want people to see how angry they are, and they want people to stop them, or else look at them and notice they are there. Their pain is invisible to us, so they do anything they can to grab our attention. It's the equivalent of screaming, "Mom! Look at me, Mom! Moooom! You're not looking! MOOOOOMMM!!!"

These people deserve our pity, not our scorn; they need treatment and rehabilitation, not jails.

In other words, thugs need hugs.

Who knows what drove them to this point in their life? Bad upbringing? Abuse? Hard times? Hate is easy, and is easily fed. It consumes one utterly, and spreads like a disease.

So, if ever you are faced with confronting a thug, fight them the way a Care Bear would. Show them love and understanding, use words, and give them a hug. It's likely they haven't ever had one.

Below is a helpful demonstration of how to face off against a thug threatening your car or local business.*

*My many rewatchings of this movie as a child have finally taught me something valuable!

G20 as explained by animals -OR- Why I Never Became a Journalist

It's true I have a bachelor of journalism degree from Ryerson University. It is also true that I did not want to become a hardcore journalist.

While I was mildly curious about what was going on downtown this weekend, I was also not willing to risk life or limb to actually find out. I've read enough Twitter and Facebook updates, though, to get a sense of the malaise of Torontonians, the sadness and anger and rage coursing through residents and protesters alike.

So to cut through the bitterness on both sides, I present you the G20 protests as I believed they happened, reenacted by cute animals. (No animals were harmed in the making of these pictures. Sadly, I can't say the same for the people involved on either side of the protests.)

1. The perceived problem among some anarchists and anti-capitalist protesters:

2 a) and b): The natural conflict between haves and have nots:

3. How to protest:

4. Why things sometimes get out of hand...

5 a) thru c). Results of provocation:

6. What residents of hosting cities of G20 are all thinking:

All photos are from Cuteoverload.com.

Wedding Post Mortem

Now that the photographer's abridged gallery is up, I am starting to recall some of the day now. Check it out here.

Here's a rundown of some of the stuff I remember:

• John and I stayed over at the Westin Harbour Castle hotel the night before the wedding and the night of the wedding. I had terrible heartburn the night before the wedding--it wasn't jitters, really. The concierge sent me up a glass of soda water served by a guy who looked and sounded exactly like Mr. Sulu from Star Trek (Takei, not Cho). I got Zantac to help me from Aunt Ellen. (Thanks Ellen! Sorry to wake you!)

• We woke up around 8 a.m. The hairstylist and makeup artist came at 8:30 and did my bridesmaids first while we ordered room service breakfast and watched TV. It was the first time in months that John and I had cable. John stuck around for much of the morning until just a little after Mike the photographer arrived.
  
  
• Mike managed to coax two kinds of smiles out of me: the big toothy smile, and the half-smile, or "Family Guy" smile. (We'd been watching an episode and it made me smirk.) So any picture you see with my lips pressed together, it's because I'm singing "My Black Son" to myself.
  
  
• I didn't know about the Stormtroopers. Fiona bought costumes and got two friends to wear them. They had them on in the taxi on the way over, and continued to wear them--helmet and all--after the ceremony, to the bar, while they walked along the Harbourfront, while relaxing on a restaurant patio, and at the reception. They enjoyed themselves immensely.
  
  
• Our officiant, Mary Jung Scott, told us she'd been practicing her Vulcan Live Long and Prosper hand sign. She couldn't quite make it there, but close enough. And considering everyone was laughing at the "By the Power of Grayskull", I wasn't sure anyone noticed. By the way, the complete last part of the ceremoney was supposed to go: "Therefore, by the authority vested in me by the Province of Ontario and the Marriage Act, and by the Power of Grayskull, it is my honour and delight to pronounce you legally married. Live long and prosper, May the Force be with you, so say we all."
  
  
• We lost the marriage certificate somewhere between the ceremony and the reception. The only proof I have of it is the pictures of me signing and holding it. It was last slipped into a big manila envelope. Has anyone seen it?
  
  
• We spent the next couple of hours taking shots along the lakeshore. The weather really couldn't have been nicer. Mike did a terrific job (on the photos, not on controlling the weather.)
  
  
• At the restaurant, Pearl Restaurant manager Jeffrey Mak greeted me with a plate of noodles. Waiters were on me every minute handing me drinks, taking my empties, giving me napkins, etc. Best. Service. Ever.
  
  
• I managed to eat about 2/3 of each plate of food--I soon discovered that my body had little room to expand within the confines of my dress. About halfway through the night, I Hulked Out and popped the clasp on my dress. It went flying off to parts unknown.
  
  
• Still can't find my WALL-E and EVE cake toppers anywhere. I'd like to think they upped and eloped while no one was looking. On the upside, the Rice Krispie cake was phenomenal and delicious, courtesy of Jenn Woo at Box of Sweets. It was a good thing we had the electric turkey cutter. It worked like a charm.
  
  
• My parents closed the store on my wedding day. I didn't know that until John and I were on our way to the honeymoon. Considering my parents only ever close on Christmas and New Year's, this gesture meant the world to me. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for absolutely everything. The wedding marked the first time I ever told them I loved them. Ever.
  
  
• We were the last to leave, along with most of John's friends, at around 12:45 a.m. I hear the after party went on until 6:00 a.m. John and I wisely retired to our hotel room.
  
  

By the numbers:

19: Number of tables.

174: Number of guests

35: Floor we stayed on at the Westin, just one below penthouse.

120: Bottles of wine made for the occasion.

9: Cases of beer left over at the end of the night.

$305: Price of my wedding gown, courtesy of Bridal Image in Mississauga.

$40: Price of my Chinese jacket, courtesy of Pacific Mall

$70: Price of my shoes, courtesy of Nine West Outlets.

$1: Price of my "pearl" necklace, courtesy of Dollarama.

It's just hair...it'll grow back...

So after more than 3 years growing, I've finally made the leap and sliced off my hair to donate to children's cancer wigs. That's 13 inches of braided hairy goodness, my friends.

I was inspired by fellow blogger Heather after she sheared her lovely locks--something she does on a regular basis for this cause. And I thought, hey, I have hair, and someone needs it--why not? So over the next two and a half years, I let my hair go, enduring an entire summer of awkward hair hidden beneath kerchiefs.

It seemed safe to do it right after the wedding. Summer was coming, I'd be free of my drain-clogging, face-eating follicles, cut my shampoo usage by 90%, and, as an added bonus, the excess clippings will be sent to the Gulf of Mexico to help with the oil spill clean up efforts.

I thought it would be freeing, life-changing. I thought I'd look good. My requirements for a haircut were simple: easy to take care of, short, and make sure I don't look like a boy.

Now, when I say I don't want to look like a boy, that description includes Justin Bieber.

Lots of people in the salon assured me it looked good and commended me for being so brave. I thought that was weird statement--it's hair, I had it, someone wanted it....here, have my hair. Nothing really brave about that, unless you shave your head. (No, I will not shave my head.)

I'm sure it's just shock settling in. As soon as I style it the way I'm used to, it'll look pretty much the way it always does--like I just rolled out of bed.

Okay. Well, it's just hair. It'll grow back. (Hope you enjoy this, anonymous bald kid.)

Let's count blessings, then, shall we?

• I've managed to make some poor bald kid out there happy.
• I'm saving the world. The stylist cut off enough hair to save at least five rare birds...or one cute seal.
• I won't have to comb my hair for a few months. It's that short and that thin.
• It's just hair. It'll grow back.
• Hats fit now.
• I can dress up as an Asian version of Justin Bieber for Halloween. Or maybe an Asian version of Starbuck.
• If I get into a catfight, my opponent won't have anything to grab on to.
• It's just hair. It'll grow back.

On the topic of the Gulf oil spill, I encourage everyone to get their local salons to gather hair clippings and separate them from the garbage to help with the oil spill efforts. I got mine done at Concepts Day Spa and Salon at Cumberland Terrace. Get your hair cut and save the sea!

Quickie reviews!

The Dead Travel Fast by Deanna Raybourn

Like Raybourn's Silent in the Grave, Silent in the Sanctuary and Silent on the Moor, TDTF features strong and interesting characters, a likable heroine, an intense, mysterious and brooding hero, and an irresistible Victorian setting with a deliciously Gothic flavor. This book reminds us all of the origins of the current vampire craze and the chill it should bring...without sparkles. If you enjoyed Raybourn's other works, you're sure to like this one.

Storm Glass by Maria V. Snyder

The first in a new YA trilogy set in Snyder's fantasy world of Sitia, Storm Glass follows the trials and tribulations of Opal, a glass-making magician whose hang ups about being a "one hit wonder" are almost as destructive and thwarting as the bad guys she keeps clashing with. I found it hard to read this book without comparing it to the award-winning Poison Study, Snyder's first work in the worlds of Sitia and Ixia. Though it took me a while to get to like Opal (I couldn't put my finger on why until a character actually pointed her flaws out) the plot carried me along, driving me from location to location in the company of a few interesting fellows. A light but meaty read for lovers of YA fantasy.

Ponyo (film) by Hayao Miyazaki

The latest offering from one of my favorite artists and animators is true to Miyazaki's spirit of innocence. It goes back to Studio Ghibli's tradition of blending mundane suburban/rural Japanese life with childhood fantasy. Similar to My Neighbor Totoro, we follow the adventures of a five-year-old boy named Sasuke and his enduring innocent love for a magical goldfish, Ponyo, who escapes from her magician father to live among humans. While it is loosely based on the Little Mermaid tale, this film is infinitely more child-friendly. Adults won't be treated to the visual and dramatic treat that Miyazaki's Howl's Moving Castle and Spirited Away were--in fact, the animation and art seems to have been deliberately toned down with more primary colors and smoother textures. But if you can allow yourself to remember what it was like to be a kid with dreams, to accept reality for the grand adventure it can be, then Ponyo won't disappoint.

The Happiest Blur of My Life

I think this photo pretty much sums up my wedding day.

No, I did not know they were coming. My sister and MC arranged to have these guys here. Suffice to say, we had a blast(er at our side).

Honeymoon was great. Relaxing. Slept +10 hours every day. Wish I could have stayed out there. It was so peaceful.

Thanks to everyone there for making it a fun and special time. When I've gathered my wits about me, I'm sure I'll be able to recall more details.

Oh My Goddess!

While I don't ascribe myself to any particular religion, I grew up observing the superstitions and cultural traditions surrounding Daoism and Buddhism, to a lesser degree.

Our family didn't go to temple or burn incense to honor our ancestors or patron deities, except on very rare special occasions. We didn't observe a strict vegetarian diet. But we did have a few figures in our household--laughing Buddha, those three guys that represent prosperity, war and...er...something....(Larry, Curly and Moe?) And, of course, the gender-bending Guan Yin.

I have a particular fondness for Guan Yin, the Buddhist Goddess of Mercy. Our family owns one of the most beautiful ceramic statues of her I have ever seen--one that I've yet to see reproduced anywhere in the world.

Now that I own my own house, I felt it was time to bring my own Kuan Yin home to act as a kind of patron and reminder of my cultural roots.

I found this resin reproduction at a store in Fairview Mall, of all places. I've rarely seen her in this state of repose--usually she is standing or sitting with her hand in that Ohm position (forgive my ignorance on the Buddhist term for it), holding a little bottle. I was captivated by her serenity and the way she seemed to be getting ready to rise and take action.

At the lovely discounted price of $30, I couldn't say no. Now my office is a sanctuary.

Power Up!

Haim Saban buys back the Might Morphin Power Rangers in the hopes of revamping the franchise.

Do I smell a reboot in the works? One can only hope...well, not really. But one of the crappiest shows of my childhood deserves a second look and a facelift.

So here are my wishes for a new Power Rangers series:

1. Bring Tommy the Green Ranger back. Jason David Frank has not only aged nicely (haawwwt, even if he does have his kid's baby photo tattooed to his chest), but he's now taking on professional MMA fighting. Adult Tommy could bring a whole new martial arts dynamic into the kids' show, and a dark side element that they just didn't delve deep enough into. (Wasn't he a bad guy to start with? Was he like Smurfette, and made to do evil but was then turned to good?)

2. DESTROY ALPHA. I hated this robot with a fiery passion. I'd much rather he be replaced by an iPhone. They do about the same thing, except you can shut an iPhone off. Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi!

3. Replace floating head Zordon with a hunk of sculpted Cheez Whiz. He was about as useful and informative as imitation processed cheese spread anyhow.

4. If there have to be Pink and Yellow Rangers, make them both guys. Because it takes a real man to wear pink. And I want a woman in the Red Ranger role, dammit.

Things we absolutely must keep from the original series:

1. Rubber suits. Because nothing beats awkward battles between monsters and robots in tiny foam towns.

2. Rita Repulsa: She was awesome, and strangely compelling to watch. For some reason, I really enjoyed her horribly dubbed scenes and ill-times lip-synchs. Also, Lady Gaga could get fashion tips from her.

3. Those awesome wrist communicators. Because they're still way ahead of us on that technology...plus, we wouldn't want to accidentally slip Alpha Ai-yi-yiPhone into our back pockets.

New layout...?

Gonna play with new layouts and the like for a while until I get something I like, but for now, enjoy this cobbled-together display.

You've Got Mail

When John and I bought our home, the address was suspicious to us. Without telling the Interwebs exactly where we live, suffice to say it sounds like a fake address.

As such, we've been receiving a crapload of fake mail. Residents at our house apparently include:

Bonita Chiquita (can't remember what she got, but it was pretty hilarious)

Bily Joe, who gets a bi-monthly LEGO magazine (which I thoroughly enjoy reading)

Julia Childs, who is getting a request for renewal (or some such) from Money Sense magazine

There've been assorted other pieces of junk mailings--cruise magazines, one-off mailings, etc.-- addressed to people who don't live here, and who probably never have. I suspect this anyhow: the previous owner lived her for 44 years before passing on, and the place doesn't look like it ever had tenants. It was way too clean when we got in.

More mail to fake people to come, I'm sure. I look forward to the next issue of LEGO magazine.

Mega post

1. Belated Happy Luke Skywalker Day! May the Fourth Be With You!

2. Running toilet=Repairs=Not quite repaired=Water everywhere, leaking through the floor and into the kitchen through the ceiling=Repairs v.2=Fixed. Thanks, Dad. You're the best!

3. Got a bike! Haven't had a chance to ride it yet, but I'm excited to! Came with a free helmet, plus the added incentive of looming HST, plus it was on sale. Couldn't resist.

4. Breaking in wedding shoes at work. Not knowing how to walk in heels, I've gotten advice that's all over the map, from "suck in your gut, stick your chest out and pull your shoulders back" to "pretend you're wearing antlers" to "walk toe first." I tried to do all these things. And now I've forgotten how to walk like a normal person.

5. Twenty-four days left before I lurch down the aisle. Halp.

6. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. I would like to be there now pleaze ok thx bye.

7. Also, this:

SQUEE in 3D

FALSE.

A friend sent me this email, asking me if any of it was true:



"LET ME SEE IF I GOT THIS RIGHT!


IF YOU CROSS THE NORTH KOREAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU GET 12 YEARS HARD LABOR.



IF YOU CROSS THE IRANIAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU ARE DETAINED INDEFINITELY.



IF YOU CROSS THE AFGHAN BORDER ILLEGALLY,
YOU GET SHOT.



IF YOU CROSS THE SAUDI ARABIAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU WILL BE JAILED.



IF YOU CROSS THE CHINESE BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU MAY NEVER BE HEARD FROM AGAIN.



IF YOU CROSS THE VENEZUELAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU WILL BE BRANDED A SPY AND YOUR FATE WILL BE SEALED.



IF YOU CROSS THE CUBAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU WILL BE THROWN INTO POLITICAL PRISON TO ROT.



IF YOU CROSS THE CANADIAN BORDER ILLEGALLY
YOU GET ...


A JOB,
A DRIVERS LICENSE,
SOCIAL INSURANCE CARD,
WELFARE,
FOOD STAMPS,
CREDIT CARDS,
SUBSIDIZED RENT OR A LOAN TO BUY A HOUSE,
FREE EDUCATION,
FREE HEALTH CARE,
A LOBBYIST IN OTTAWA
BILLIONS OF DOLLARS WORTH OF PUBLIC DOCUMENTS PRINTED IN YOUR LANGUAGE
THE RIGHT TO CARRY YOUR COUNTRY'S FLAG WHILE YOU PROTEST THAT YOU
DON'T GET ENOUGH RESPECT

AND, IN MANY INSTANCES, YOU CAN VOTE.

I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE I HAD A FIRM GRASP ON THE SITUATION.

In a fit of suppressed rage, I answered (sadly, I do not have Dymaxion World's eloquence, but I'm trying here):



No, this is not true.

Reading between the lines, this is really just an anti-immigration (and racist) propaganda meme that some right-wing nut job probably put together. There's an American version of this "joke" here:

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/jokes/read/80879617/

It's ridiculous that they're comparing the U.S. and Canada to any of these developing, corrupted, or war-torn nations. Is the author of this joke suggesting we brings ourselves to the level of Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, China, and North Korea when it comes to protecting our borders?

What we really need to think about is how fortunate North America is that it will accept people who need help.

Immigration laws are very strict in both the U.S. and Canada and are based on case by case bases. Every month you hear some tragic stories of families being torn apart when a parent is deported even when they've lived in Canada for decades. Of course, on the flip side, there are people who slip through the system, who've taken advantage of the opportunities presented to them and abuse the things they've been given.

That does not give us license to paint ALL immigrants with the same brush.

We worry about our national security, we worry about the economy, we worry that tax dollars aren't being invested to benefit "real" citizens. All of these are valid concerns. But gut reactions to inflammatory messages that spread resentment and hate will not solve these problems.

Being prejudiced against the next wave of immigrants, of people who can't speak our language, of a new neighbor who smells funny and eats weird food doesn't make us righteous: it makes us hypocritical douchebags. Once upon a time, it's pretty likely YOUR people weren't welcome here. Seriously. Go ask grandpa.

Do NOT pass this meme on. Instead, tell people that both Canada and the U.S. are countries populated entirely by immigrants starting with the first pilgrims off the Mayflower; that our collective identity is made richer with new voices and new faces; and that the investment we put into new generations will be returned to us ten-fold.

To quote from the Bible (no, I'm not Christian, but I can read the Word via Google search whenever I have a "I'm pretty sure the Bible didn't say that" moment):


http://www.openbible.info/topics/immigration

Leviticus 19:33-34
“When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.

Matthew 25:35
For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,

Exodus 22:21
“You shall not wrong a sojourner or oppress him, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.



http://preachersfiles.com/helping-others-a-biblical-principle/

“But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men” (Luke 6:35 – ESV).

“And let us not be weary in well doing; for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith.”

A companion scripture to the above passage would be Proverbs 3:27: “Withold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it.” We are not to refuse exhibiting mercy and kindness to others when it is in our power to do it. The extent of God’s mercy and kindness toward us will be dependent upon our extending mercy and kindness toward others (James 2:13; cf. 1 Thessalonians 5:15).

In Acts 10:38 we read, “How God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Ghost and with power: who went about doing good….” Jesus went about doing good to others; as His servants, we must follow His example (1 John 2:6). In Romans 12:18-21 (cf. Prov. 25:21-22), we learn that acts of kindness and benevolence can change people’s hearts. Our demonstration of love toward people might result in their obedience to the gospel of Christ. The “coals” referred to in Romans 12:20, are pains of shame which kind treatment will produce. We have an Old Testament example in 1 Samuel 24:16-19.

Every now and then I get a little bit nervous...

Now I don't know which version makes me laugh/shudder more. This one or this one:

Golden Heart scores

Here are the scores for the Golden Heart 2010.

I'd entered Fighting for Her Love pre-second-round edits (after my interview with Victoria Curran). Can't help but wonder how it would score now.

I finished in the second quarter. Yay?

Updates!

Random post!

1. On me and sickness:
MRI's scheduled for July 26th at 10 p.m. Don't know why I have to go in so late, but whatever. Haven't had another episode of hearing loss since, but I did have a BPV moment the other day when I turned over in bed. Not a happy moment.

Thanks to Kainnon for emailing me a textbook about inner ear infections and disorders. Educational and terrifying!

2. Nuptials:
Wedding's in 43 days. I'm trying not to think about the stuff that still needs to be done. We'll get to it eventually, I'm sure. RSVPs sure would be welcome...

3. The Cat:
I think Smartikus is getting less and less graceful by the day. In fact, I think he's turning into a dog. He came bounding toward me when I got home in a perfect imitation of my family dog, Yoshi. He was also very sedate and let the niece and nephew bury their faces in his fur in exchange for a bite of croissant. We've caught him failing at cat grace a number of times, too. He's fallen off the table and counter a few times when trying to jump up. Maybe he has cat BPV?

4. The fiance:
For those of you who haven't read his stuff yet, John's now blogging freelance for Toronto Life. Check him out at http://www.torontolife.com/daily/author/jmcgrath/

5. Writing:
Computer has finally cacked out on me, so I've been making do with John's desktop and my Eee until I can get a whole new system built. I haven't been able to get a good chunk of writing done, despite the whittling to my YA WIP. And now the plot bunnies are attacking. Very frustrating.

6. The House:
Been working on the gardens, and now have a nice clean front yard with the last vestiges of crosuses and irises, along with whatever the previous owner was growing. I'm also prepping the backyard and starting seeds for tomatoes, cucumbers, basil, cilantro, dill and parsley. So either I'll have fantastic salad by the end of summer, or one big compost heap.

That is all for now.

Not a tumor?

Went to see the ENT. He said I don't have Labyrinthitis.

But he worried it was Menieres Disease.

Next day: Hearing test results were normal, so he's ruling Menieres out. *phew*

But an MRI will be scheduled to see if anything else is happening.

It better not happen on my wedding day. HELL no.

How to terrify a bride a little more than two months before the wedding

At the hospital for my out-patient appointment with the ear/nose/throat specialist at Toronto East General Hospital, 1 week after my trip to the E.R.:

ENT: We need to send you in for a hearing test and an MRI scan. Hearing test tomorrow, then you come and see me, then we'll schedule the MRI. The fact that you had benign positional vertigo before and now this is a little...weird.

Me: But...when?

ENT: Maybe May 9th. Depends on what we find.

Me: (doing quick calculations in my head: if they find something, and they have to do anything serious, can I still go on my honeymoon?) Um...okay?

With that, I was ushered out of the tiny ENT office which, I swear, was the size of a long walk-in closet. They scheduled my appointment for 1:35 p.m., but I was waiting for nearly an hour and a half. On top of that, I was swept into the ENT room while another patient was there, getting her results. I could hear (yes, I can hear!) everything the doctor was telling her. Isn't there supposed to be some kind of doctor/patient confidentiality thing? I didn't need to hear all that.

I hate being not sick, but broken nonetheless. I just hope it's nothing more serious...because I don't care what's wrong, I'm having my wedding!

Inflamation of the...er...weird 80's cult movie?

Went to the E.R. last Sunday with a case of vertigo so bad I couldn't move from my bed. After three hours of trying not to throw up, I called Telehealth Ontario and went to East York General on their (and John's) insistence.

The doctor's diagnosis: Labyrinthitis.

It really did feel exactly like this:



Or, if you prefer:




"It's not a condition we really understand," the doctor told me. "And it's something that's really hard to live with." So all I got out of it was an appointment to see a ear/nose/throat specialist and a prescription for some anti-nausea meds.

Obviously, the way to cure Labyrithitis is with the power of voodoo...do what? Remind me the babe!

Altered States

As my inner ear problem continues sporadically, with days when I feel perfectly fine and days when I'm deaf in my right ear, I've occasionally followed doctor's orders to take a decongestant, which is supposed to help relieve the stuffed up feeling. So far, the only thing the medication has helped with is keeping my already sparkling-clean nasal passages clear (and running) and giving me a twitchy boost of anxious energy.

After a full day of feeling my heart race and trying hard not to jump up and go for a jog through my office, I found myself meandering around after work, hoping to work off some of this restlessness. In reality, I'm quite worn out due to some sleepless nights...probably because of the stupid drugs.

I just realized why I'm in such a miserably anxious state. Apparently, pseudoephedrine is used to produce meth.

Great. Just great. Unfortunately, Sudafed PE nearly made me puke, and I will not abide breaking my 24-year no barf streak.

So here I am, blogging, a plate of reheated homemade Mac and Cheese in front of me with some questionable kolbassa (I really need to stop eating rotting food), and the contents of my makeup drawers scattered over my desk.

That's right, I went from meth to makeup. Nice segue, huh?

Because the wedding is coming up, I'm shelling out to get a professional to do my face and hair because, let's face it, if I did it myself, I'd end up looking like a clown. Or Courtney Love.

We've never really been a makeup family: mom didn't teach me how to apply lipstick, and big sister wasn't much into face paint, either. What I have dabbled in has been almost exclusively in the lip department, with some moderate to hideous success. I'm sure some of my friends have questioned my preference for deep, blood-red lips against my pale, silver be-glittered skin. (Edward Cullen stole that look from me, the little bitch.)

Looking at the pile I've accumulated, two things strike me: 1) I really have no idea where most of this stuff came from, and 2) I think most of it is older than granite.

So, for your enjoyment, and because I'm hopped up on drugs (don't do drugs!), here's a catalogue of all the stuff I'm about to toss:

Lips

Red Earth lip gloss, wine red
I bought this in Hong Kong in 2000. It still smells like vanilla, but tastes like rubber. It was my fave for a while, but it never really went with anything I wore, for reasons I can't fathom.

Avon Brilliant Moisture lip colour, Moonstone 3014
I have no idea how this got into my drawer. Maybe I ordered it from a friend? It looks like a colour I might have chosen, but it smells like plasticine and has the consistency of it, too. I think it's probably about 10 years old. Maybe older? Who knows...

Lancome Paris Juicy Tubes Pop ultra shiny cooling lip gloss, frozen punch
I got this from a friend as a stocking stuffer for Christmas...oh, maybe 7 years ago? Giving it a test squeeze, the liquid came out clear--the colour and the chemical have apparently separated out. Eew.

Two Life brand sport lip balms, SPF 15
I bought these by mistake, thinking they were regular lip balms on sale. I used it for a whole day before looking in the mirror and realizing I had thick white goo slathered all over my lips. I looked like I'd been kissing a wedding cake. No wonder everyone was looking at me weird. Still, might be handy for the upcoming summer. Can't say I've ever experienced sunburnt lips. Don't really want to, either.

Avon lipstick, Apricot
I remember buying this sometime in high school. A friend of my sister's was an Avon lady. I just liked the tube because it's all hologramy and shiny. The colour makes me look like I have radioactive lips. It tastes like one of those old picture books you open up at the library and wonder whether a hobo has been reading them.

The Body Shop Colourings lipstick, 48 (White)
This came from my first makeover, when I turned 18 and my big sis took me out to lunch and then Yorkdale Mall. It went over another colour to make my matte lips look shiny. It's still kinda nice...but it's more than 12 years old now. I'm shocked it's not cheese yet. *toss*

The Body Shop Colourings lip liner, 01 (beech) and 07 (mahogany)
Ditto above. They were sold to me as versatile colours to be used on my lips and my eyes as liner. Thinking about it now, that doesn't seem very sanitary. Still, these pencils have served me quite well. But I wonder how many new life forms have sprouted on the tips?

Princess Marcella Borghese Lumina lipstick, Rusticana 38
Another mystery lipstick. I think it showed up a little more than 5 years ago. What kinda freaks me out about it, apart from the fact that I have no idea how it ended up in my hands, is that it also looks well-used. I don't have any recollection of ever using this lipstick, even though the way the tube looks neat.

Revlon Moisturestay Lipcolor, 21 (pink)
I might have bought this. Maybe even within the last 5 years. It looks brand spanking new, never used...but it's dried out like an old crayon. Moisturestay my ass.

Tinkerbell lip balm
I wrote about this before. I have to throw it out--the smell is making me nauseous.


Eyes

Stila Cosmetics Stila Look #2
This was a cute little set of eye shadows and lip colour given to me by John's stepmother maybe 8 or 9 years ago. I was never much for eye makeup, though I will soon be making that attempt--I'm a little tired of looking like a mole person with teeny tiny eyes against my big, white face.

The Body Shop Sparticles, 01 Supernova
Another purchase on my 18th birthday. I really like this stuff at the time because it's a tiny jar of little beads. They're fun to squish between your fingers. Not so easy to apply, though: I don't really have any brushes, so I just used my fingers. Not really convenient, either.

Red Earth eye shadow compact, PK001
A three-colour set from my Hong Kong trip in 2000. Pretty basic neutral earth tones. Still "usable," as far as I can tell.

Avon True Colour eye shadow, Purple Rose
The 80's are calling and they want their eye shadow back. All I can think as I look at this colour is, OH MY GOD, WHO WOULD HAVE BOUGHT THIS? Moreover, why would they leave it in my makeup drawer? It's really, REALLY dark purple. I mean, like a velvet jumpsuit made for Austin Powers purple. *toss*

Lancome Colour Focus, Silver Screen Exhibition
Another stocking stuffer, I think. And it's maybe 3 or 4 years old. Wore it at a wedding I went to last year. I applied it while in a moving car with my finger. I'm not sure that was the best idea. Also, the woman I was sitting beside at the wedding was a cosmetician: I think she was freaked out by the application. Or the colours. Or maybe it was just me in general. I'm going to go with door number 3.

Rimmel London Waterproof Volume Flash Instant Thickening Mascara, black
I don't know what possessed me to buy this. I remember I'd wanted to experiment with thicker lashes--mine are short, straight, and point downward. I poked myself in the eye on first application. That stuff really does thicken instantly. I was washing it off for hours afterwards. You know those freaky Japanese horror movies where spooky little kids bleed black tears? Yeah, that was me.

Faces Eye liner Pencil, charcoal 011
I bought this maybe in grade 8. The texture lives up to the colour name. Into the bin it goes!

Professionals eye liner, royal blue
Another mystery. It probably came in with the Purple Rose eye shadow. I have no idea how old it is. *toss*


Face

The Body Show Facial Blotting Tissues, Rose and White
This was all the rage in high school; absorbing oil, reducing shine and being all sanitary because you just had to throw out the rice paper wad afterwards instead of using a matted old pad. The problem was, and continues to be, that I am neither white- nor rose-coloured. The colour always stood out. I look like I'd been working with pastel-coloured drywall at some freakish construction site for Sephora City. Still, lots of fun to see all the oil on your face.

Club Monaco Cosmetics Wet Dry Makeup, Warm 2
No idea how this came to me. It's not even my colour. But it's brand-new...if +5 years old counts as brand-new.

Body

Quo Lust Dust, Mesmorize
This body glitter comes in it's own retractable brush. I got it back when the Eaton Centre still had a movie theatre. Apart from the awesome name, it just makes me happy. *keep*

Red Earth body makeup glitter, silver
I imagine Red Earth kidnapped a bunch of vampires and ground them down to make this stuff. It might be better used for an art project than as makeup. I wonder how much poisonous metal is in it?


Nails

Club Monaco nail colour, Froth
Subtle, pearly iridescent white was my thing back in high school. It was a lot easier to hide mistakes that way. Would you believe I hadn't ever thought of having someone else do my nails for me? *toss*

Cat-topped shiny white nail polish
This might have come from that Avon friend of my sister's. It reeks like a mofo. *gag toss gag*

Le Chateau nail polish, sparkly electric blue
I bought this for $2. I mostly used it to touch up the chips on my electric guitar.

GAP Colour nail polish, dark red...?
A tiny bottle, a nice colour...I'll leave this out at work for someone to take home...and possibly get poisoned. (Must be at least 9 years old.)

Wet 'n' Wild nail color, 441B Sahara, and 412 Burgundy Frost
Another giveaway. I think I bought these to go with a dress I was wearing for a wedding.

Revlon nail enamel, 721 Raven Red
A gift from a friend. And since when were ravens red? *keep*

Well, there you have it. I've reduced my makeup collection to a mere quarter of its original size. And I seem to have stultified my restlessness into silence. Now all I have to do is figure out how to actually, you know, put makeup on.

Sephora, I'm looking at you to gimme some freebies here...