june 13, 2002.

Happy birthday to Pixie, one of my two favourite sisters!

Seeing as yesterday was a day when the Boy was home with me, I'm surprised at how chaotic it all turned out. Oh. Maybe I should rephrase that... *giggle*

The Boy's place of business is what's called a continuous operation, so he works what are more commonly known as shifts. For most of the winter & spring he worked late morning to midnight type shifts, but since I've been back he's been on the dayshifts. I'm really pleased with this change, as I ate dinner alone for months; not to mention the fact that if I ever wanted to talk to him, I had to wake up a very cranky Boy in the mornings.

He also tends to have a weekend in the middle of the week rather than on Saturday & Sunday. This is actually more useful to us than a conventional weekend, as we're in church half the day on Sundays (and the stores are closed all day anyway). We usually do laundry on Sundays.

So anyway, yesterday was the Boy's "Saturday." I celebrated by giving him the use of the computer for the afternoon so that he could work on his self-archiving project (over 80 songs so far, ranging from a futuristic gameshow theme to a doomed experiment with falsetto). This seriously cut into my navel-gazing goth storytelling time, although I did print out 2 chapters of Javina's novel & critique them in the livingroom while the Boy spun & muttered to himself.

In the best weekend tradition, we also did laundry. I can't get over how many black t-shirts the two of us own. Our vast inventory of ebony garments is so far the only fruit of a marriage between two slacker nerds.

Hurrah for bgirl! Coolest of the cool, b sent me a CD of summer sweetness that has yet to leave our various sound systems. It may be obvious to you that a single girl living in New York is much cooler than a married couple in rural Nova Scotia, but I was happily oblivious to this fact until the CD arrived. The Boy went into raptures just looking at the track listing (he's currently deep in the throws of mortal embarrassment over the fact that his favourite track is by New Order). I think I need a Le Tigre album for my birthday.

"Did you know that an abortion is more safe than playing football, driving a car or using a tampon?"

"All at the same time?"

- me & Q on the phone last night.

(What a great comeback. I laughed for a full ten minutes.)

This afternoon I went to my first yoga class in about 5 weeks. The continuing low attendence figures have prompted Lorax to combine the 2 advanced students with Amoret the beginner. It was fun at first, but more or less humiliating as the hour went on. Over the years I have become less flexible, less graceful and less balanced. I am a yoga disaster. Still, it's better that I go and feel stupid than not go and feel like a failure.

Besides, the warm-up stretches had the unexpected side-effect of inducing a Convergence flashback: sitting in the hotel hallway with Chad & Stacy, doing yoga. I mentioned that Alexi could balance on his shoulders ("...and blow smoke rings. He was a man of 2 party tricks.") Chad responded that he has the ability to hear higher-than-normal frequencies.

"I'm glad to be out of there," he said, indicating the closed suite door. "I'm getting some noises out of the tweeters that I don't think anyone else can hear."

We bought our first home today: a 5-man (no woman) tent that we have named Tenty. (Actually, Camp Hedonism might be a better handle, as we plan to use this tent as our passport to a million summer festivals of music & merriment. The hedonism is built in!) I know it seems strangely hyperbolic to refer to Tenty as our first home, but it really is. No one can kick us out of Tenty. We can travel wherever we want, and as long as we pay the standard park fee, we can pitch Tenty in any of our country's fine public green spaces. If we can't find a place to live in Toronto, we can join the homeless protest outside Queen's Park (although I'm not sure how well that would go over with the school board a.k.a. my bosses...) But it's ours. We can go anywhere with it, travelling in style. Those 3 extra menspaces make the place seem swankier than swank; as soon as we get the new tent smell out, we'll rock the muthafukin house! Or in this case, tent.

I haven't felt this empowered since the purchase of Mustang Scotty.

We've implemented a new program around the Rockethome in the past week, and I share it as a public service to all of you lucky enough to live in Canada. This new program came out of the Boy's preparation for my return; as during his frantic late night house cleaning he happened to catch "Ideas" on the radio. Ideas, for those who don't know, is a CBC program dedicated to...well, ideas. It's one hour every night that makes you think. And it's great for cleaning the house.

So now we're trying really hard to make it a habit to tune in, clean up and drop off. Our kitchen starting to look fabulous already.

2 years ago today: I discovered a large hole in the rear of the overalls today, which is something you really want to discover in your living room rather than the Warehouse.