Mid-December already, and yes, I’ve been a bad blogger. Coal in Schubert’s stocking this year…Oh maybe next year I’ll be more attentive to my site, maybe I’ll also work at a food bank and donate more money to the cat shelters of this town and eat more vegetables and call my grandmother more often.

Well, we can hope.

Today, a day I took off work so I could write my translation exam, was punctuated with howls from my mentally ill cat. It has not been a relaxing day. I had cookies for breakfast (thanks Kersten), did two loads of laundry, found out I got a C on my latest school assignment (which, for a perfectionist like myself is like getting an H-) and the black cat cried on. Went out to the vet to get the desperate feline his dose of Pro-cat-zac and then popped in at the local pub for a quick lunch and coffee (+ shot)…The pub was having their Customer Christmas party later that night, but I’m having to miss it. Short, yam-faced drummer came in to set up his kit for the evening. Turns out he’s from Winnipeg too. He says he likes we must have a lot in common and that he likes green — do I like green too? Sure, I like green. And black and dark red and white. Oh, I know a line when I hear it, though I haven’t heard many lately.

Talked to Neilio 5 times today. Absence makes the heart grow even fonder, n’est-ce pas? He’s busy catching up with students and old friends. I don’t think he can be missing the manic depressive cat episodes.

Looking forward to getting this translation exam sent off tomorrow. Will celebrate by going out for brunch, a nice relaxing yoga class, buying a bottle of Christmas cheer and renting a suitably fuzzy, heartwarming chick movie. Maybe Love, Actually, though I saw it last year. It’s worth it just for 2 minutes of Rodrigo Santoro in his skivvies.

Hot bath cooling off. Listening to the Stars right now. Missed the boat — I think both shows at the Mod Club sold out. Oh, well.

Good night.

Intended an early night tonight. Woke up at 4 am yesterday morning, legs and feet aching from four hours of walking the picket line and a spontaneous 5 km evening run (this after not having run in 2 years). So….needless to say I have taken it easy tonight. Watched my traditional hour of CSI (why cut off a corpse’s finger to get a print? reminds me of that Hans Christian Andersen tale where the girl cuts off her finger so she can use it to open a locked gate and save her seven brothers who have been turned into crows — why cut the finger off?), phoned a friend to thank her for making Thanksgiving dinner (don’t you just love people who love to cook and are glad to share!), and researched a few Masters programs online…Still interested in everything and nothing in particular. Can’t decide between English/Creative Writing, Second Language Education or International Relations/Law. Meanwhile, I’m still chipping away at that French Language Certificate. Oh, I’m so good at starting things, not so good at staying the course.

Speaking of running, I figured it would be good to set myself the challenge of being able to run a 10 K by Christmas. Ooh, it’s going to start getting cold soon, too, so it will be an extra test of my staying power. Living across from a large beautiful park chock full of spry joggers is inspiring and the local running club averages about 70 people per outing. So what’s my excuse besides back-to-back episodes of CSI on Spike TV? Today I confess I’ve already skipped the first club run for the sake of a much-needed nap, but there’s always tomorrow, right?

Halloween is coming soon. Maybe I should give out candy this year, instead of lying on the floor with the lights off because I didn’t get around to buying any Kit Kats. Heck, I think I might even like to go trick-or-treating this year…There are some pretty swanky houses around here and they don’t look like they’re owned by people who give out that crappy paper-wrapped bat toffee. I’ve already told the black cat that he’s going to have to work the windows this year. He is so lazy the rest of the year!

Well, time to curl up with a warm blanket and a good book. I’m about a quarter into Richard Wright’s Clara Callan. It’s strange reading about characters living in the 1930’s talking about sex and abortions. I don’t know why…maybe I think of people back then being more innocent, which is a crazy notion. People have known how to make more people for thousand of years, right?

When I resurface again, why don’t people oooh and aahh like they do in Nova Scotia when they see the whale fin?

I’m actually not jealous of whales — they deserve plenty of credit. Actually I’ve actually gotten tired of watching the Olympics and Canadian Idol is on one of the only other channels we get. What a horrible, lame show. It makes Star Search look like a class act. Yuck. I really hope all these faux, bland music shows fall by the wayside soon, along with reality TV. But hey, other people like them, so OK….

In the meantime I am rediscovering the art of reading a real book. Right now I’m reading “Women and Men” by Richard Ford. I love his writing…

Ahhh, some guy outside keeps screaming “Jeremy” or “Eric” or “Jerry” or something like that over and over again. The cats are folding back their ears in bewilderment. Has he lost his son, his dog or his mind? There are many, many crazy people in this town. One of them likes to root through our garbage and our recycling on a regular basis. He has a ratty teddy bear or something strapped to his little white cart. When you ask him what he’s taking and tell him to help himself, he puts a bag of onions back in the garbage that you share with your neighbour. Take the onions, for Pete’s sake.

Having rejoined the full-time workforce, I once again am struggling to keep pace in the Great Hamster Wheel…The cycle of get up, eat, go to work, eat, watch TV, sleep and over again. It’s nice to have a job at the moment, although we will likely be going on strike in September. That’s a drag. I may have to picket. I have never picketed before. I would rather eat a pickle.

Speaking of pickles, it’s exciting to be back in Toronto and enjoy all the yummy ethnic specialities that can be found just a block away. Portuguese, Mexican, Eritrean, Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Italian…you name it, you can get it. I think, finally, after two months, I’m almost Thai-ed out for a while, and I’ve over-Udoned lately as well. I’ve also had more than my share of Sicilian ice cream, but luckily yoga seems to be staving off any ill-desired consequences of my indulgence.

Aside from all the dizzing possibilities of activities and the numerous weekend festivals, I have to stay that Winnipeg does have Toronto beat as far as clean air and wide, blue skies. I miss the fact that life seems more personal in Winnipeg. I miss chit-chatting with my fellow yoga regulars. In the three times I’ve lived in Toronto (four and a half years in total), I’ve never managed to really start up a real social circle here. That being said, I do feel completely at ease with the city itself. It’s great to be able to walk around the city for an hour at a time and never tire of the walk: there is always something (or someone) to see…I haven’t seen the guy with the horns permanently glued to his head since I arrived back in town. Maybe he had them removed!

Well, that’s my post for tonight. Just trying to get the juices flowing again from what has been a very lazy pineapple.