so nesty
My journal has been really quiet the last few months (since the school year ended) but I’ve noticed a similar turn in a lot of journals on my friends list (please write more, I promise I will). I have been having a hard time finding time to write since Warren has been back and busy with his thesis. I realise we need two computers and I think this is ridiculous - that I find it hard to do everything I want without having accessing to my very own computer; that I want, nay, need to be mediated through a machine.
I feel like I’m in a really boring David Cronenberg movie.
selenie and I talked about it yesterday on the phone and we feel foolish for not buying her thesis advisor’s laptop for cheap and doing a timeshare between the two of us because we’d probably write in our livejournals more if we had our own laptop.
I’ve been so busy at work that I haven’t been able to be “creative” (a la Michel de Certeau - thanks Selena) on company time. By the time I get home, I have to make dinner for Warren and I and then after that, I don’t feel like writing if I can spend time with Warren. I wish he would pick up a book so I would feel less guilty about writing in livejournal. Plus, I find it weird to write when someone else is near me, even if that means he’s in the next room.
I had a wonderful time housesitting despite the extra responsibility of mowing the lawn with a finicky mower. I really want a dog and I want a house - an Ontario cottage with a red door. I think next summer I’ll take Selena up on her offer vis-à-vis community garden plot because that might satiate my desire to grow my own vegetables. I felt spoiled being around blooming flowers (lilies, roses and clematises) and having an outdoor clothesline.
Warren and I watched a lot of movies while house-sitting: Notorious, Rear Window, Run Lola Run (gimmicky and cliched) and the best of all - La Belle et La Bete. We’re buying this poster for the living room. Everything is slowing coming together!
I woke up this morning with sore arms. It only lasted a few minutes and it was confusing, as I hadn’t slept with my arms above my head (sometimes, I do that). I remembered that last night, W and I washed the walls of two rooms to prep for the painting extravaganza this coming weekend. The plan is to prime the soon-to-be-office Friday night and paint the first coat Saturday. The kitchen should also be painted Friday. We only have to do one coat as it is already white. W had to intervene because I was going crazy on this one part of the wall, adjacent to the stove. It was spotty from cooking and I don’t want it to show through the new paint. He insists that no one will know but I know. I tried to explain to him that it was my “enemy”.
I’ve been doing a lot of thrifting in the last month. W and I went to St. Mary’s (a small town outside of London). I have fond memories of St. Mary’s because when Warren worked last summer, St. Mary’s was on his delivery route and I used to go with him to town. He’d drop me off on the main drag, go do his delivery and come back for me. There’s a bunch of great antique/thrift stores and I always find something good in St. Mary’s. We found our second coffee table there and I bought a 1950s teapot. Also, I found a Mikasa ceramic coffee pot.
The coffee-table-selling man thought we were married and gave W a “tip” about a new bakery in town - told him to go there and surprise me with a piece of cake. We went there to get coffee but they didn’t have any but the owner gave us a pastry treat since it was the end of the day. I love St. Mary’s. Everyone there loves living there and rightly so, it’s a beautiful town and that’s something of which to be proud.
I’ve been lucky in the kitchenware departments at Goodwill and other thrift stores. It’s been nice to outfit the rest of my kitchen with inexpensive items (that were once expensive). I found a small salad spinner yesterday. I bought a better used iron and a small emerald-coloured lamp for Warren’s bedside on the weekend.
I think I’m high from all this second-hand shopping.
I’m high on vintage Pyrex and teapots!
I’ve been doing tons of baking and cooking for various parties thrown by daintybear. I made rhubarb pavlova for her graduation party. It had a meringue-base. It turned out okay. It didn’t look like the photo (the rhubarb wasn’t that beautifully pert pink colour as Nigella Lawson would describe it) and the meringue wasn’t as dry as it could be but I made a fucking meringue. I think it was the only time I’ve ever given myself a pat on the back anywhere, let alone the kitchen.
Tilapia fillets and leeks with a lemon tarragon cream sauce got us through some lean grocery times (the fillets were from Penelope’s freezer). Sometimes, recipes on the package are amazing.
I made raspberry hazelnut bars for Sarah’s birthday party. I made sixteen bars and I think Warren ate six. He’s got a dangerous love of sweets.
I learned today that my middle brother (the one I haven’t spoken to in years) is a neo-conservative. I had lunch with my dad for the second time today (it’s been a few years since I’ve voluntarily been around him). It was all right - less agonising than last week. Since Andrew (my youngest brother) wasn’t around, I kept the conversation to politics. My dad confessed that he wanted to vote for the Green Party because “the environment is the future” but instead, he voted Liberal because he was afraid the Conservatives would win.
I talked a lot about the Fog of War - the newest Errol Morris documentary. My dad doesn’t understand how Albert (the David Frum style neo-conservative) and I are so completely different and how Albert can be so conservative when neither one of my parents are conservative, politically. Albert supports Bush and thinks it’s right to bomb Iraq. It made me sick to my stomach to hear this. Albert wants to be a doctor and I think this is a terrible idea. He’s not a compassionate person.
I get the impression that my dad wants me to go into politics to “make a difference” and really, to “make my mark”. He brought this up when I was in high school and he’s bringing it up now. I think it would bring less shame to my family if I did something “productive” and more importantly, “public”. There’s a weird myth that my parents like to perpetuate that leadership is in our blood (it runs on my maternal side). Ugh.
The last time Sarah went to get her bridesmaid’s dress fitted, I went with her and tried on a wedding dress for the hell of it. It was $2000 and it was gorgeous but unbelievably ostentatious. It was a halter style dress with knife pleats in chiffon (where the halter bodice was). It had a jewelled band to mark the empire waist and it was in white charmeuse. It was a little embarrassing because it was so white and my wedding will be the furthest thing from a white wedding. I think if the dress came in a different colour (like yellow or orange or even brown), I could handle it but it was just too much.
I’d rather wear a really nice pair of jeans to my wedding. I thought the claims women would make about Seven jeans were ridiculous but you know what - they’re true. They do make you lot fucking hott.
I feel like I’m in a really boring David Cronenberg movie.
selenie and I talked about it yesterday on the phone and we feel foolish for not buying her thesis advisor’s laptop for cheap and doing a timeshare between the two of us because we’d probably write in our livejournals more if we had our own laptop.
I’ve been so busy at work that I haven’t been able to be “creative” (a la Michel de Certeau - thanks Selena) on company time. By the time I get home, I have to make dinner for Warren and I and then after that, I don’t feel like writing if I can spend time with Warren. I wish he would pick up a book so I would feel less guilty about writing in livejournal. Plus, I find it weird to write when someone else is near me, even if that means he’s in the next room.
I had a wonderful time housesitting despite the extra responsibility of mowing the lawn with a finicky mower. I really want a dog and I want a house - an Ontario cottage with a red door. I think next summer I’ll take Selena up on her offer vis-à-vis community garden plot because that might satiate my desire to grow my own vegetables. I felt spoiled being around blooming flowers (lilies, roses and clematises) and having an outdoor clothesline.
Warren and I watched a lot of movies while house-sitting: Notorious, Rear Window, Run Lola Run (gimmicky and cliched) and the best of all - La Belle et La Bete. We’re buying this poster for the living room. Everything is slowing coming together!
I woke up this morning with sore arms. It only lasted a few minutes and it was confusing, as I hadn’t slept with my arms above my head (sometimes, I do that). I remembered that last night, W and I washed the walls of two rooms to prep for the painting extravaganza this coming weekend. The plan is to prime the soon-to-be-office Friday night and paint the first coat Saturday. The kitchen should also be painted Friday. We only have to do one coat as it is already white. W had to intervene because I was going crazy on this one part of the wall, adjacent to the stove. It was spotty from cooking and I don’t want it to show through the new paint. He insists that no one will know but I know. I tried to explain to him that it was my “enemy”.
I’ve been doing a lot of thrifting in the last month. W and I went to St. Mary’s (a small town outside of London). I have fond memories of St. Mary’s because when Warren worked last summer, St. Mary’s was on his delivery route and I used to go with him to town. He’d drop me off on the main drag, go do his delivery and come back for me. There’s a bunch of great antique/thrift stores and I always find something good in St. Mary’s. We found our second coffee table there and I bought a 1950s teapot. Also, I found a Mikasa ceramic coffee pot.
The coffee-table-selling man thought we were married and gave W a “tip” about a new bakery in town - told him to go there and surprise me with a piece of cake. We went there to get coffee but they didn’t have any but the owner gave us a pastry treat since it was the end of the day. I love St. Mary’s. Everyone there loves living there and rightly so, it’s a beautiful town and that’s something of which to be proud.
I’ve been lucky in the kitchenware departments at Goodwill and other thrift stores. It’s been nice to outfit the rest of my kitchen with inexpensive items (that were once expensive). I found a small salad spinner yesterday. I bought a better used iron and a small emerald-coloured lamp for Warren’s bedside on the weekend.
I think I’m high from all this second-hand shopping.
I’m high on vintage Pyrex and teapots!
I’ve been doing tons of baking and cooking for various parties thrown by daintybear. I made rhubarb pavlova for her graduation party. It had a meringue-base. It turned out okay. It didn’t look like the photo (the rhubarb wasn’t that beautifully pert pink colour as Nigella Lawson would describe it) and the meringue wasn’t as dry as it could be but I made a fucking meringue. I think it was the only time I’ve ever given myself a pat on the back anywhere, let alone the kitchen.
Tilapia fillets and leeks with a lemon tarragon cream sauce got us through some lean grocery times (the fillets were from Penelope’s freezer). Sometimes, recipes on the package are amazing.
I made raspberry hazelnut bars for Sarah’s birthday party. I made sixteen bars and I think Warren ate six. He’s got a dangerous love of sweets.
I learned today that my middle brother (the one I haven’t spoken to in years) is a neo-conservative. I had lunch with my dad for the second time today (it’s been a few years since I’ve voluntarily been around him). It was all right - less agonising than last week. Since Andrew (my youngest brother) wasn’t around, I kept the conversation to politics. My dad confessed that he wanted to vote for the Green Party because “the environment is the future” but instead, he voted Liberal because he was afraid the Conservatives would win.
I talked a lot about the Fog of War - the newest Errol Morris documentary. My dad doesn’t understand how Albert (the David Frum style neo-conservative) and I are so completely different and how Albert can be so conservative when neither one of my parents are conservative, politically. Albert supports Bush and thinks it’s right to bomb Iraq. It made me sick to my stomach to hear this. Albert wants to be a doctor and I think this is a terrible idea. He’s not a compassionate person.
I get the impression that my dad wants me to go into politics to “make a difference” and really, to “make my mark”. He brought this up when I was in high school and he’s bringing it up now. I think it would bring less shame to my family if I did something “productive” and more importantly, “public”. There’s a weird myth that my parents like to perpetuate that leadership is in our blood (it runs on my maternal side). Ugh.
The last time Sarah went to get her bridesmaid’s dress fitted, I went with her and tried on a wedding dress for the hell of it. It was $2000 and it was gorgeous but unbelievably ostentatious. It was a halter style dress with knife pleats in chiffon (where the halter bodice was). It had a jewelled band to mark the empire waist and it was in white charmeuse. It was a little embarrassing because it was so white and my wedding will be the furthest thing from a white wedding. I think if the dress came in a different colour (like yellow or orange or even brown), I could handle it but it was just too much.
I’d rather wear a really nice pair of jeans to my wedding. I thought the claims women would make about Seven jeans were ridiculous but you know what - they’re true. They do make you lot fucking hott.