Harry Potter Day - Le Deux

Yet another Harry Potter Day! Woot! Woot!
Robi, Lady Fairchilde and I are going to see HP in Imax!!
Tonight.
Oh baby!

Just imagine the opening scene with
the Death Eaters flying through London.
On a huge motha screen!
Booyah!!

Since the theatre is a fair walk from the office,
And I don't want to carry my usual suitcase/bag with me,
I thought I'd just bring my wallet.
A lovely black Coach wallet that my previous bosses
gave me for Christmas one year.
(Thanks Penny and Jen!)
I can fit everything into this thing.
Money, cards, keys, gum, GO Train ticket.
You name it.

I figured, to pass the time on the way to and from downtown,
I'd play games on my BlackBerry.
Rather than read a book.

But, of course, my ADD got the better of me this morning,
and I simply couldn't concentrate on anything on the train.
As usual, I was sitting with my GO Train Buddy,
who, by the way,
is the biggest sci-fi geek I know.
As much as I love Harry Potter, he loves Star Trek.

So we're playing with our BBs,
exchanging PIN numbers so we could message back and forth.
Mostly to bitch about delayed trains and noisy riders.

And he messages me to test the link.
Types "from GTB"
which, with my dyslexia and ADD, I mistaken for his initials.
Which I know are BG.
So I ask
"What does the "T" stand for?"

He rolls his eyes.
"GO Train Buddy"

God I'm dumb sometimes.
And I laugh and tell him that I thought it was his initials.
Only backwards.
He points out that his initials are actually BSG
"Battle Star Galactica!" he exclaims
eyes all bright,
bobbing his head up and down
grinning madly

OMG!
"You are such a GEEK!!" I tell him, laughing.
He pretends he's offended (or maybe he's not!)
and tells me if he's a geek then what am I.
"I'm totally a geek!" I admit.
Proud of it too!!

But now I'm thinking, what HP character am I
with the initials MM?
OH!
Moaning Myrtle!!

Hmmm ...
wait, that doesn't sound quite right.

Jackpot!

I'm not going to go with the obvious here.
It snot (sorry, couldn't resist) my place to judge the diggers.
But people guys, at least do it in the privacy of your own home.

(And, yes, that's Gerry Butler)

Which reminds me ...


I distinctly recall driving with The Husband when we first started dating.
I'm sitting in the passenger seat, gazing at the people in the other cars.
We passed a guy digging for nuggets.
He was in deep.
Up to the second nuckle.

I turned to The Husband (then, The Boyfriend) and asked:
"Why do guys pick their noses in the car?"
Meaning, why do they do it in public?
Do they think the car window provides some sort of invisibility shield?
They watch too much sci-fi if you ask me.

The Husband doesn't miss a beat and replies, very seriously:
"Because their wives won't let them do it at home."

Of course.

It's all in the name

Over at the One-Minute Writer, C. Beth's prompt was "Write about a time you had to call the police or other emergency services."

Thankfully, I've never had to call emergency services for a real emergency.
I have called once, however, to prevent a disaster.

I used to live in an apartment located on a side street that overlooked Wilson Avenue. Being on the eighth floor, I could hear some noise from the traffic below, but not much.

One day, I could hear tires squealing. Not an unknown occurrence, but it was happening frequently, and with somewhat of a pattern, so I went out onto the balcony to see what was going on; assuming it was teenagers out for a joy ride in daddy's car.

What I saw shocked me.

Some crazed lunatic was driving at breakneck speed around the block that surrounded my building . I couldn't see him the entire time, but I could hear him as he squealed around the corners. He was driving up Pleasant Home, across Victory, down Agate then -- without stopping -- onto Wilson Avenue, which is a busy four-lane road. Cars on Wilson Avenue were careening out of his way as he sped into traffic.

I called 911 to tell them about this maniac, because I figured it was just a matter of time before he caused an accident.

I talked to the nice lady who answered the phone and gave her some details. She took my name and number, thanking me, and told me someone may call later to follow up.

I didn't hear anything until much later that evening.
The phone rings.

"Hello?"
"Is this Mo?"
"Yes."
"This is PC Crook from 12 Division. You called about a reckless driver."

I paused to digest what he just said.
Did he actually just introduce himself as Police Constable Crook?
For real?

And before I could help myself ...

"Bwhaahaahaa! You're kidding, right?!"

There's a moment's silence on the line, then he drawls, clearly not impressed,

"Dooooon't eeeeven ..."

Poor bugger.

Today's Message ...

... is brought to you by Lady Fairchilde

Steppin' Out

Just down the hall from me is an associate.
Who, apparently, has a shoe fetish.
Which I think is a little odd for a man, but who am I to judge.
After all, the Husband has twice as many shoes as me.
Then again ... he's gay.

The other day, we see this in the associate's office:


Someone
(and we're not sure who, since no one will fess up to the crime),
lined up all his shoes like little soldiers.
He left them like this for a few days.
It was the talk of the floor, if not the entire office.



What we're all wondering about, though, are the Leopard Heels.
Are they his?
Perhaps he's really a cross-dresser.
And does a stand-up drag show in the evening.
I bet he wears them under his gown in court.

Peter Piper

I was cleaning out the memory card on my camera
and came across a few pictures that I had meant to blog.
It was kinda like finding a fiver in a coat pocket you haven't worn in a while.
Francisco!

When I visited my parents for Memère's 99th Birthday Party,
Mum showed me the heart of a green pepper she had cut up that morning.

Hee hee ...





Peter Piper may have picked a peck of pickled peppers,
but I think this time ...
he just picked a pecker.

Word Art

There is a shelf at my desk, on which I have various items, including an accordion folder with items to be filed, which is held in place with a metal book end.

I bought a package of cheap magnetic letters to have fun with. It even came with a little metal plate and a stand ... how cool is that?!

I placed a few letters on the metal bookend. It's not very clear, but the red thing on the left is a lady bug that once belonged to Lady Fairchilde.




Lady Fairchilde and I have somehow evolved the term "Francisco!" to mean a show of excitement, approval, exclamation ... well, you get the point. It comes from the scene in Elf when he goes to work and meets Francisco.




Needless to say, I came to work one day and found this (note that LF was creative with the use of N as C, as there is only one of each letter in the package):



Yesterday, Barna-Boo reconfigured some of the letters, taking a few from the stockpile in the box. There's no question she thinks I'm a dork. I concur. And so say all of you.



And then, today, Barna-Boo did this:


And now my secret is out.

Yay Me!

Mi marca final para mi clase española es noventa y siete!
Bravo!
Aplauso para la señora!!

And for those of you who need a translation ...

My final mark for my Spanish class is 97!
Woot! Woot!
Can I get a witness?!

Actually, those last two sentences weren't direct translations.
Just in case you were wondering.

I'm quite pleased, and pleasantly surprised, with my mark.
Yo soy muy feliz!
I expected honours, but somewhere in the high 80s, low 90s.
Certainly not 97.

I wasn't planning on taking Spanish 2.
But I want to take another course.
I was thinking about a creative writing course.
I like where my writing is going.
I've been blogging and posting under a pen name
and I'm getting positive feedback.
I think I'd like to see where this takes me.

Hand to Hand

The muse at Pictures, Poetry & Prose was a beautiful black and white photograph of aged hands.

The suggested prompt: His hands tell a story. Offer your creativity to share it.
You'll note I took literary license and made the poem about a woman.
Or it could have been a drag queen ... you decide.

My submission:

* * *

Hand to Hand

Once lacquered, long and slender
adorned with fine glinting gems,
waved haughtily at adoring faces.

Now creased, twisted and gnarled
weathered with gruesome russet spots,
waiting patiently for attention.

Put Your Left Foot In

Over at One-Minute Writer, Wednesday's writing prompt was:

You have the chance to interview one person on international television. Who do you choose, and what is the most important question you'll ask?

My response was chosen as the winner! Woot! Woot!

C. Beth has like a bajillion people following this blog.
It's quite amazing, actually.
If you're not already following her, you should go over.
Like right now.
It's ok ... I'll wait.
No really ... go.
Now.

What? Oh ... right ... so what was my response?

Interview with Larry LaPrise (author of The Hokey Pokey) ...

Mr. LaPrise, what is it really all about?

snort!
tee hee
Come on!
You didn't expect me to write something serious, now, did you?
Ya'll should know better than that by now.

I could have watched all night

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince ROCKED!!

What an experience, too. Although this wasn't the first showing (the movie opened at midnight), it was certainly the first day and the audience was pumped. Lady Fairchild, Robilicious and I all agreed it was a wonderful experience.

While we were waiting to go into the theatre, we spied three girls dressed in Hogwarts uniforms. I happened upon one of them in line at the loo and asked her about it. She said they bought them online five years ago and began showing me the detail. She was wearing a gray pleated skirt, with matching gray vest and a white shirt, together with the Hogwarts school tie. A Slytherin crest was sewn on a gorgeous cape. She was quick to point out that she wasn't a bad Slytherin! She showed us various pins and crests on her uniform and produced a wand out of her purse. The whole ensemble was brilliant! She said her sister was Hufflepuff and their friend was a Death Eater. I didn't see the mask, but LF and Robi said it looked great.

There appeared to be a group of about 10 or 12 people all dressed in gray pants and vests, wearing ties.

When Lady Fairchilde and I went for snacks, we saw someone who looked like Sirius Black, and there was a ginger boy who was the spitting image of Ron Weasley, and immediately behind him was (I swear!) Molly Weasley.

The previews played and once they were over, there were sporadic sounds of "shh", then an audible hush fell over the audience. You could feel the excitement in the air.

The moment the music started, the crowd broke out in applause and the game was on. What a great movie! Lots of laughter, great tension and ... yes ... I cried when Dumbledore died. Actually, not exactly when he died, but there was a poignant moment afterwards and I got all throat-lumpy and eye-teary and glanced over at the girls, wiping my eyes. Making eye contact was enough to break my grief because I immediately succumbed to a nervous fit of the giggles and couldn't stop. The theatre is silent as everyone takes in this moment and I'm giggling and snorting like a maniac. I apologize to anyone who was in the theatre with me ... I'm really sorry!

We debriefed as we walked back to Union Station. Robi and I agreed wholeheartedly that it was a fabulous movie. LF seemed to be more reserved and I think I know why. I haven't read the Half-Blood Prince for some time (although I had intended to read it before watching the movie). LF had just finished reading it and felt that the movie was missing a lot of detail. I have felt the same about the first five movies. They were good, but didn't come close to the books. We've come to the conclusion that perhaps reading the book immediately before the movie is not a good idea.

So we've already formed a plan for the release of the first instalment of The Deathly Hollows.

We will be going to the Midnight showing.
We will commence Potterphernalia shopping immediately for said event.
We will not read the book immediately before seeing the movie.

I may have to see that movie again ... two or three more times, in fact.
Gee, I hope The Husband is up to it.

Happy Potter Day!

It's here!
It's finally here!
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.
In theatres.
Today.

OH. MY. GOD!

I'm too excited to work!!!!!

And to celebrate, I leave you all with the Potter Puppet Pals
and "The Mysterious Ticking Noise"

It's Hip to be Square

I don't know what The Husband has been eating lately. And I'm not referring to his gaseous emissions. What I'm talking about is his uber-silliness lately. For those that know him, you can only imagine how crazy he's behaving if I'm saying he's more nuts than normal.

This week is yet another busy week for us.
Last night was our hot date night.
Costco, groceries, dog walking.
You're jealous.
I know.

By the time we were done, it was late and neither one of us wanted to cook.
The solution: Frozen pizza and salad.

One of The Husband's co-workers gave him tomatoes from his garden so I chopped one up, added some herbs, extra virgin olive oil and some balsamic vinegar. TH comes over and adds a chopped egg. Not bad.

Then I took out a Delicioso frozen pizza. This is our first time having one of these -- we usually buy Dr. Oetker. I break open the box and pull out the pizza.

"Hey!" I exclaim. "It's square."
I'm not sure why this surprised me so much, it just did.

Stupid Head The Husband doesn't miss a beat and very seriously says,
"Don't let the shape intimidate you. I know you're used to round, but you can do this."

I look over at him and give him my best "You're a dink" look.

He steps back, shoots both gun fingers are me and shouts "Blog that, bitch!"

My Potterverse

If you don't live in a cave, then you know that
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
opens in theatres on Wednesday.

Lady Fairchild, Robilicious and I are going to the premier.
We've already purchased our tickets.
I sleep with mine under my pillow.
I don't want the Nargles stealing it.

In anticipation of this great event,
the three of us went shopping for Potterphernalia.
At the very least, I expected to find a Quidditch scarf.
But no ...

Rien.
Nada.
Zip.
Not one piece of Potterphernalia to be found.

All I could find was an HP version of the 20 Questions game.
Which, I must say, is still pretty cool.
If you don't know what the 20Q game is, then click on the link.
You can get just a regular one that's not theme specific.
I keep mine at my desk, which entertains the lawyers I work for.
I also bring it on road trips and long flights.
It really is a lot of fun to play with

But I digress (as usual).
This is what my HP 20Q game looks like:




It's a Golden Snitch.
It has wings and everything!
How frickin' cool is that??!



Despite the great find, I am still disappointed,
to say the least,
with the lack of Potterphernalia.
I blame it all on Stephenie Meyer,
the author of the Twilight Series.

It started when the release of the Half-Blood Prince
(originally set for November 2008)
was rescheduled due to the release of the Twilight movie.
She couldn't wait?
Her books were already selling like hotcakes.
Would it have killed her to wait until all the HP movies were released?

And let me point out that Robert Pattinson,
who plays Edward in Twilight,
was first portrayed as Cedric Diggory,
who is branded a hero because he was murdered by
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

I really thought I'd like the Twilight series.
I tried reading the first book.
Couldn't finish it.
Don't know why ... just couldn't.

So I've been on a bit of an anti-Twilight binge lately.

Then I started writing this post.
And Googled the books and the author.
She has a blog.
(of course she does, who doesn't?!)
I read her post about how she got published.
I hate to admit it, but it's quite inspirational.
She may be my new hero.

Cousin Alex returned Twilight to me on Saturday.
Maybe I'll pick it up again.

Sweet Alex

You may recall a previous post regarding a prompt from Pictures, Poetry & Prose. It featured my own photograph of chocolate.




Alex sent me a poem she wrote, with this message:

I'm not brave enough to blog it but I have to write it to you cuz I know you won't criticize and if you do it's okay cuz I know you love me. Yeah I know COWARD...but was too chicken to post it.


Perhaps Nephew #2 has actually inherited the writing gene from her after all.

And in case you're wondering, she does talk like that.
One giant run-on sentence, followed immediately by a deep breath.
Kidding! She's gonna smack me when she sees me later!

* * *

Chocolate

Is it sweet and sensuous,
or dark and mysterious?

Is it sinful,
or blissful?

Is it one heavenly taste,
or many pounds on your waist?

Why do you care,
go for it, I dare!

My Buffyverse

I'm looking forward to spending the day with Alex tomorrow.

Now ... as much as I'm looking forward to seeing her
(and I am, Sis, I promise!)
I'm REALLY looking forward to the return of my Buffy DVDs.

The last time Alex came over for a girls' weekend,
I lent her my Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVD set.
All seven seasons.

She's returned one through four,

but I don't want to start re-watching the series until I have all seven.

Now, for those of you who know me,
you know I'm a huge Harry Potter fan.
HUGE!

But let me tell you,
that's NOTHING compared to how much of a Buffy fan I am.
Alex texted me on a regular basis as she watched the series.
It was like watching it for the first time all over again.

By far, the funniest text was:

Buffy has a sister?! WTF????!!!

PPP: A Letter

The muse at Pictures, Poetry and Prose was, to say the least, cathartic. There were some pretty powerful pieces.

Our suggested prompt:

Dear ____, I wanted to write you this letter to explain.
(Write this letter to yourself from someone you wish would write to you.)

My submission:

* * *

Dear G,

I am not asking for forgiveness; what was done is unforgiveable. A bond of unconditional trust was broken, never to be mended. I realize that my betrayal rises above all others. I, alone, have shaped your personality. I have destroyed your trust ... your trust in others and, worse, in self.

I cannot change this, for it was ordained that we should meet, you and I, and teach each other this difficult lesson. I know you have learned this moral well, for I have watched you grow in strength of spirit. And I am proud. You have fiercely chosen to deny the destruction of your life. Instead, you have conquered all challengers and are stronger for it. You are a warrior. A survivor.

When we meet again, we will recognize and know each other. You will understand and you will be healed. Until then, know that the Guardians watch over you and protect you always.

P.

The Call

Another win at Pictures, Poetry and Prose.

Not that this is based on a true story, but I was thinking of The Husband when I wrote this. I married a man who is not afraid or embarrassed to tell his children he loves them. All the time. And who, in turn, are not embarrassed to say I Love You back. Listening to him talk to his kids simply makes my heart glow. He's so proud of them.


The suggested prompt:
Write creatively so that we understand what this phone call is about.
(If you click on the link, you'll see the picture is of a blue collar worker, sitting in a dimly lit stairwell, talking on his cell phone.)

My submission:

* * *

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Gregg sat down on the steps, away from the rest of the crew. He glanced at his watch. It was just before eight, almost bedtime. He knew she was waiting up for him, waiting for his call before she climbed into bed with her entourage of stuffed bears. He punched the familiar numbers into his phone, pressed it up to his ear and listened to the rings.

She answered the phone breathlessly, excited, as always, to hear from him. He chatted with her about her day in kindergarten and what the new puppy had done.

As usual, before he could say goodnight, she asked him, “Daddy, will you sing with me?”

He grinned into the darkness. “Of course I will, honey.” He glanced around, to be sure no one was nearby, and softly began singing. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star ...” Her tiny voice joined in with his until the end.

Giggling, she whispered, “Goodnight, Daddy. Love you!”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you too,” he replied quietly.

Pocketing his phone, he turned to climb back up the stairs and was met with several senior crew members, all grinning at him. He shook his head, his face reddening. As he walked through the group of men clapping his back and punching him in the arm, they catcalled. “Hey Gregg, will you sing Old McDonald with me?”, “How about Mary had a little lamb? That’s my favourite!”

He grinned back at them, knowing each one of them, at some point in their service, had done the exact same thing. Their teasing was nothing more than an initiation; their way of saying ‘welcome to the club’.

A Week in Review

Over at the One-Minute Writer, yesterday's prompt was: Imagine you will be sitting down a week from today to describe how your week went. What do you hope you'll be writing?

My submission:

* * *

Monday.
Post blog.
Work all day.
Final Spanish exam tonight.

Tuesday.
Post blog.
Work all day.
Date night with Husband.

Wednesday.
Post blog.
Work all day.
Four hours of overtime.

Thursday.
Post blog.
Work all day.
Puppy gets nails trimmed.

Friday.
Post blog.
Work all day.
Russell Peters on CTV.

Saturday.
Up early.
Drive to Newmarket.
Sister day with Alex!

Sunday.
Sleep late.
Write a bit.
Hang out with Husband.

* * *

It's not about how I hope my week will go.
It's more about how I expect it to go.
So far, I haven't been disappointed.

Or ... maybe I should be.
*sigh*

Yo tengo uno examen esta noche

For those of you who need it, I'll translate the title:

I have an exam tonight.

Needless to say,
being the over-achiever that I am,
I've been studying like a maniac all weekend.

When dinner-time finally came 'round last night,
I'd just about had enough.
I wanted me a nice piece of salmon.
Red Lobster, here we come.

On the way home, the highway was completely backlogged,
what with all the cottagers coming home.
So we took the scenic route.
Which takes us by Princess Auto.
Now, for those of you who are not familiar with this store,
Princess Auto is Mecca for people like The Husband.

We come around the corner and TH says
in his best TV evangelist voice:

"Ah.
And there is Princess Auto.
Can I get an Amen from the congregation?"

And he chants his own reply with a long

"Aaaaaameeeeennn!"


Freak.

WCDR

I did it.
I joined the Writer's Circle of Durham Region.
There's no excuse now.

Yesterday I mailed my first submission for a short story competition,
sponsored by This Magazine, titled Before I Go.

As the rules of the competition specify that the submission must be previously unpublished, and posting on the internet is deemed as published, you'll have to wait until the winners are announced before you read it. Sorry.

I don't expect to win, but it's been very exciting to write and simply lick the envelope!





I've also begun writing my entry for the Wicked Competition, sponsored by WCDR.

I'm having the time of life!

DWP: Multitasking

Marc, at the Daily Writing Practice, wrote the funniest story.
I urge you to go read it.
It inspired the DWP writing prompt: Multitasking.


My submission ...


multitasking

sort the darks, from the lights, start making plans for dinner
scrub the counter, wash the dishes, dust the living room
slice tomatoes, chop the onions, add softener to the wash

feed the cat, pick up toys, take the garbage out
check for emails, send replies, stir the bubbling sauce
let the cat out, change the litter, write a thank you note

help with homework, kiss a scraped knee, turn the dryer on
set the table, wash small hands, hang the school award
family dinner, share some stories, let the cat back in

clear the table, finish homework, mend some holey socks
one more email, straighten den, supervise the bath
read a story, say a prayer, start again tomorrow