A Bunch of Pics = 34,000 Words

Thursday has been slightly crazier than Crazy Tuesday and my brain has shut down, so here are a few pics in lieu of a few thousand words.

The Annie Leibovitz exhibit was very cool. I think I liked the stories she told even better than the pictures. Well, the pics were certainly enhanced by the stories, anyway. The membership lady was super nice and let all 6 of us in for free. We were supposed to get 4 free tix and pay 1, and Prawn would be free, but she said if Fishy didn't mind being 5 for the day, he could go in with no charge. It was also a no camera zone, but the very nice lady at the desk said she trusted that I had read the sign and would obey. You can't guess how many times I found myself preparing to hoist the camera to take photos before remembering. Plah.



DIA exterior of course


A bit reminiscent of that torture scene in Casino Royale. . .



More torture. Poor Apollo. Though not bad for 1st century.



Equal time for the sexes. Aphrodite has seen better days as well.


The Diego Rivera murals. I showed part of one last time. This time I got more.





"Cells smothered by poison gas." Yum yum!


Grail, anyone?


I think this one is just cool. That lit-up part is actually recessed.


Our first time in France. ;) This chapel used to be in a (castle?) tower in France. It's now in the DIA. Go figure.


Different lighting = different details. (and new poses by the kidlets)


This detail (shot straight up in the chapel) wasn't even visible in the available lighting. I was pretty surprised to see what the flash revealed. Cool!



It still amazes me to see a real Rembrandt. I suck at capturing it on film.


Still my fave staute. I love the look on her face - so real - the proud and doting mother. :)



On the way out, the 3 girls and I nearly trampled this man. I'm pretty sure he was wearing the same tie. If he hadn't been actively chatting up some other women as he walked, I would've complimented him on his museum, but alas.


Action Boy! (crappy pic)


Why does my mother always take blurry pictures of me? Could it be because I'm always in motion?


How to really freak out your kids - point out the missing bits of ceiling in the carpark. Instant panic!!!


The drive home never fails to fascinate me -- Woodward Avenue and the Davison in particular.


The Granwood seems to be the place where we always realise we've hosed up and need to make another turn. (I posted the front last time - you could see that it really used to be something in its day.)


That's a peach, Hon.




"Good Shooting"


"Shitty Shooting" (Detective Paul Smecker, Boondock Saints)






It's for sale. LMK if you're interested and I can email you the phone number.




Yes, ANOTHER quality job by Upright Wrecking. . .


I know you will be as gratified as I was to find that, yes, they DO ship worldwide. And FYI, "Livernois" Ave is pronounced "LIVER-noyz." *cackle cackle*


Lotsa roadses


And that's all she wrote.

DIA Another Day

Woo hoo! We are off to the DIA! While you await my next brilliant post, go read the Fine Lit at Cindra's (should be up soon) and don't forget to vote. :)

Caveat Amicus

I hope this picture doesn't bug you.



And I hope this post doesn't bore you,



but the time has come for a discussion about "Amish Friendship Bread."

First off, let me warn you. If someone carrying a bag of sticky goo and wearing a too-bright smile approaches you at this time of year (or any other, really) RUN; don't wait, just RUN! Why? I'll tell you. Because, Dear Reader, it is "Amish Friendship Bread" starter. "Friendship" is a word which here means "Oh my God, I'm stuck with an incessantly-spawning batch of goo and I'm going to pawn some it it off on you, much like a virus, so that though I'll still be stuck with more than I can handle, at least I will be happy in the knowledge that I'm not alone."

Would the Amish really wish this on anyone? Dear Reader, I think not. In fact, I highly suspect that the use of the word "Amish" here is simply a ruse meant to fool innocent bystanders into thinking that it must be harmless, because, hey, how many Amish serial-killers have there ever been?

Speaking of Amish, I've gotten to wondering about this. Are there only Amish in America? That almost has to be the case. Well, I guess they could go as far as Canada and South America, but travel to other continents, barring sailboats (which I find unlikely) would involve technology that is not allowed by their Ordnung. I'm pretty sure the split happened after the whole pilgrim thing. I mean, pilgrims didn't have any modern stuff to shun, did they?

Anyway, back to the evil plot to take over the world bread. The bread comes with instructions and takes 10 days to come to fruition, or ferment, or brew, or whatever. At some point, it starts to do this:



Yes, that's right. I was given two. Not just one, Dear Reader, but two. By two different people. On two different days. But they live near each other, so you know that these two bags are likely the bastard spawn of the same parents.

See how they're puffing up? That's their way of spreading their spores. If you don't open the bag every now and then, it will explode spectacularly, sending splatters of alien goo everywhere in a blatant attempt to take over the planet.

In case you do remember to open the bag, thus foiling the escape plans, the instructions direct you to add this, mash that, and stir in the other, and before you know it, your goo has spawned:



Each bag begets 4 more progeny and what's left (after some more ingredient-adding) finally produces 2 loaves of sweet-bread. Granted, it is delicious, but now you're stuck with all these bags of goo. And you only have so many friends who are still blissfully ignorant of The Curse. So beware. Or you may hear a knocking at your door and open it to this:



And we're going to hand you a bag of goo.

Veni Vidi Velo

GuTTer MuNKi (no, his name's not Jamie ^_^ )has been outdoing himself as usual on the food front. This time with a Filipino Adobo Chicken recipe from Penzeys One. That was last night. The house still smelled wonderful from it this morning. Mmmmmm!

As some of you may realise, our tree is up and yacked under already. The Usual Suspects helped a great deal with getting everything just right.



A few days ago I made something so rich that I can only now begin to think of it again. It was a chocolate turine and it was delicious.



Contrary to what the picture might lead you to believe, it was not a lump of poo or even mud. And I did not eat half of it before snapping the photo. I think. I have to learn to take more flattering photos of food.

Stay tuned for The Curse of the Amish Friendship Bread.

Oh, I almost forgot. Cindra, here's the vid of the intensely competitive Egan as he makes his stunning transition from the biking portion to the swimming leg of the last Ironman.

Murphy's Law

Since we have a fair amount of Irish blood coursing through our veins, the law of Murph seems to be especially potent here. In this case it means the following:

If a cat has to yack and starts out yacking in the middle of the living-room floor (for which you are extremely grateful) the cat will immediately get wind of this aura of gratitude and go pelting underneath the Christmas tree in order to empty the contents of its stomach onto the Christmas tree skirt.

On the other hand, the tree-skirt is probably easier to wash than the carpet, so maybe it's not Murphy's Law in this case.

Remember what Happy Bunny says. "When life hands you lemons, use them to squirt juice into the eyes of your enemies." ^_^

Fine Lit at Cindra's

Dont' forget to read the stories at Cindra's and vote!

Moving Right Along

Time to bump that picture down the page, don't you think?

Tonight I went to my 4th theatre film in 11 years. The others were H2G2 (you know how I feel about all things Adams), SWIII (you know how I feel about all things Star Wars), and X-Men 3(This was a whim for baby-sitter-testing-out purposes. ~d I know I told you this would be my 3rd, but I'd forgoten about X-men 3. Which I really enjoyed apart from the fact that Huge Ackman somehow managed to lose his shirt, shred his pants and STILL not show anything vital.) You all will know that a slot of this prestige could only go to James.

And you know, as much as I would love to gush and rave about this film, I fear it would be off-putting were I to do so. So this is what I have to say.

Best. Bond. Ever.

And that is all.

Oh, and I saw Grant*, which I really got a kick out of.

*An extra whose account I had followed online

Prize HNT

This HNT comes courtesy of Cindra because she knitted the GORGEOUS (and supersoft) scarf and awarded it to me as a prize for her word game. Thank you, thank you, Cindra. I adore it! :) You will have to excuse the somewhat rumpled braids. GuTTer MuNKi did, indeed, return home from Cañada today.

Oooh! Fal made a button for HNT!! :) Very Bondesque, don't you think?







I guess it's a bit cheeky, but MuNKi helped me choose it, so what do you expect?

Anything else I might have to say is being said in my secret blog. ;)

Say it With Haiku

Have you ever thought
That anything you can write
Looks artsy in verse?

Here's a fun project. Take a random book passage and paraphrase it in a haiku. Like this:


Another policeman was standing in the hall. He looked terribly young, and he was leaning very slightly back against the wall, staring at the floor and holding his helmet against his stomach. His face was pale and shiny. (Douglas Adams, The Long, Dark Tea-Time of the Soul)

becomes:

Second cop, so young
Off-balance, pale and shiny
About to be sick

More:

A bulging sack remained at Stilgar's feet. He crouched, placed his palms against it. Someone came up beside him, crouched at his elbow, and Paul recognized Chani's face in the hood shadow.
"Jamis carried thirty-three liters and seven and three-thiry-seconds drachms of the tribe's water," Chani said. (Frank Herbert, Dune)

becomes:

Thirty-three liters
A fighting man's life reduced
To rounded measure

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split-second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone. (J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban)

"Riddikulus! Ha!"
Snape in a dress. Explosion!
Only smoke remains

It's a fun game. If you like that sort of thing.

Crazy Tuesday

This morning, GuTTer MuNKi was called to The Great White North on no notice. He got to spend 4 hours and 5 minutes on his (work) cell there to the tune of $3 per minute. Yowza!

Between teaching, waiting for kids, and doing my own classes, I spent 7 hours at Tae Kwon Do today. I'm tired. (ack, no! 10 pushups for saying the T-word.) The bottoms of my feet are sore. My muscles hurt. Please, someone give me a vat of wine and a massage.

I'm too tired to make food. We're putting in a movie, eating snacks and the kids will sleep in the living room in a giant nest. Tomorrow is our Holy Day. Ahhhh.

Queen of Procrastination!!!

Procrastination!! That could be my mundane superpower!!

But alas, I fear that I am not the only one who excels at these things.

Right now, I am busily not writing a letter to my German penpal to put in the box that I actually DID get together in order to mail it before Thanksgiving this year, thus, hopefully, saving myself an exorbitant amount of shipping costs.

The good thing about procrastinating is that I write more as a procrastination device. Normally, writing, because I enjoy it so much that it doesn't seem like credible work, is what gets procrastinated.

OK, just a few words then.





Bamba. Try it. This is the (unofficial) national food of Israel. The bomb shelters are stocked with it (so says a friend who moved there - or maybe she was saying they should be.) Anyway, they're tasty little buggers. And packed with peanutty goodness. Does contain: peanuts; corn; palm oil; salt; vitamins C, B3, E, B1, A, Folic Acid and B12; iron; and rosemary extract. Does not contain: babies, soccer balls, basketballs, skateboards or other sporting afficionados or equipment.

In other inspiring news, I see that Hollywood is doing its best to keep up with its quota of racist pigs. And Scarlett Johansson (meow!) announces that she gets an AIDS test twice a year. I don't know about you, but I think that [Jedi Force Gesture] maybe she should go home and re-think her life. [/Jedi Force Gesture]

In a completely more intellectual vein (no, seriously) here's my next great Kid's Book Pick. I meant to do this a lot more frequently than I have. (You may recall that I have, to date, done this exactly once.)



I suppose that's kind of cheating, since I've really picked 3 books, but I love Harry. He's exactly like me, only different.

And now, tell me how much you love this self-captioning picture (see blanket word.)

Just so you know, if you have bunk beds and more than one child, the bottom bunk is going to get zero use, and the top bunk is going to get twice that - well, you know what I mean - twice its share, that is. You might think it would be more worthwhile to buy a bunch of those IKEA loft beds. And you would probably be right.

Still haven't seen Jimmy Bomb (more procrastination!), because I wanted to do class tonight since the dojang will be closed Thursday through Sunday, and we'll be missing our Thursday and Friday classes. We used the big bags tonight, so I have some bruised knuckles now. Good thing I remembered to take my ring off for a change.

And now it's finally time to write that letter and pay some attention to GuTTer MuNKi, so he doesn't decide to leave home and re-think his wife.

Veni Vidi Ventilati

Success! For both of us! Thank you for all the support and encouragement. :)

A Last Gasp

A breath before dying. Or something.

I went with a friend to the teeny tiny little local co-op today and it rocks! I'll be joining for sure. There were a bunch of homeschooled kids there and the mom of one of the homeschooled TKD students was there as well. Crunchy peeps, all. Like minds, I guess. Tons of organic goodness. Good prices, too.

I'm entering "holy-crap-the-test-is-upon-me" mode, which means a bit of stress, though not manifesting in much other than less patience than usual with the little muNKis. This actually gave me the idea of setting a timer for their dinner clean-up activities, the idea being that if they beat the clock, they could stay up and read, and if not, it was lights-out. This idea was so successful that it will be employed for the rest of time as we know it. It was such an improvement on the usual dilly-dally-and-bicker fest that I stand (or sit) amazed.

Red-belt class kind of kicked my bum, and all I can think about is that tomorrow will be hours of it. Hours.

I have a bath waiting. I plan to sit in it and rest my aching (yet strangely restless) thigh muscle (yes only one thigh :-P ) and read Eragon because GLORY HALLELUJIA (Jaffar), I have finished the final existing Thomas Covenant book. I could study the curriculum more, but I seem to know all the answers (ha ha) , so the only danger is that I might freeze up under pressure. So far that hasn't been an issue for me. But now I've jinxed myself. Crap.

I am nervous, but not gut-wrenchingly so, since there's nothing I can do about it. I am extremely hopeful that GuTTer MuNKi will make it all the way through without his injured whatsit (front upper leg tendony or ligamenty sort of thing) taking him out. I had a dream last night that we had begun the test and it had fizzled spectacularly after only 30 or 40 kicks because either GuTTer MuNKi had a blowout or the white belt who will test with us couldn't breathe. It was a huge letdown because I felt I hadn't really earned my belt. Then I realised that we hadn't even broken boards or GOTTEN new belts and I was just confused at that point.

Tonight's dreams will likely only be wierder. I do hope to see you again.

PS I am informed by my beloved that James Bond has already kicked the respective asses of all previous Bonds to date in box office take. So here's where I get to say how smart I am about these things. [/I-told-you-soing]

OJ Simpson Makes Me Want to

vomit up great chunks of green monkey meat. And I haven't even eaten any green monkeys.

Now he'll be getting even MORE $$ and MORE attention. Can't we just put him on ignore? Notice I have not linked to his crap.

Off to be sick. . .

A Troublesome Wind

I'm sorry, the answer is that a Mongoose is a medieval Hungarian stomach pump, and a monsoon. . . isn't.

I'm listening to James Blunt (as opposed to Fine James*) on real speakers for the first time ever, and he sounds lovely. Except. . . Except that he stutters every few seconds and all of my mouse clicks are coming through the speakers as well. The stuttering may be an issue with iTunes. That seems to always be a problem with this album. Hopefully GuTTer MuNKi** will be able to tell me what's wrong. He was playing a lot of stuff stutter-free last night at maximum volume while all the little MuNKis were in bed and I was reading.

It's time to face the inevitable. Bo Dan testing is in 3 days. Urf. Thoughts of Casino Royale will have to keep me going. "Must. . . live. . . to see. . . James. . ." The plan is to see it on Sunday, provided we survive.

*Not what you expected, was it? ^_^

**No clue about this one, but it amused me.

Invention is the Father of Necessity

We have a new toy. And when I say "we," I mean GuTTer MuNKi. OK, maybe me, too. It's called Sirocco, and as soon as MuNKi became aware of its existence, he became simultaneously aware of our burning need to own one.

Apparently this will allow us to suck all of our CDs into a hard drive ( I believe that MuNKi will be setting up a dedicated hard drive for this porpoise) and play them over the stero from any computer in the house. Which means - hooray - no more crappy audio for stuff I download into Phantom (my laptop), among other things. The stereo will be like a ginormous iPod with playlists and all that. Yummy. Lucky for me, GuTTer MuNKi is a technogeek. Ladies, if you marry a technogeek, you will be assured of having the latest toys with none of the work or associated post-purchase guilt. Hooray! Another bonus - we can stash all the CDs in boxes in the basement once they're sucked in. Ooh la la!

In completely unrelated news, I finally won my latest finger-wrestling match with the piano. I'm not saying it's beautiful or anything yet, but at least I'm hitting all of the right notes now, and (often) none of the wrong ones. I like this part because there are all kinds of notes where they don't belong. All credit for that goes to Mr. Dario Marianelli, whose every piece seems to include doublets. I don't actually know if they're called doublets. They're like triplets, but there are only two. Maybe I should call them twins. It's in 9/8 time and considering that I know very little about musical theory, maybe I'm playing it completely wrong. I'll have to get my P&P back (enter site to listen to some of his stuff) and give it a listen.

The One With Diaper Man

♪*trumpet flourish*♪

I found Diaper Man and his buds! I hadn't actually thought to look online before I guess.




Apparently they were known as The Mighty Heroes and are from way back in 1966, three years before I was hatched.

I feel less crazy now.

I was talking to my friend at TKD tonight and she didn't remember Diaper Man of course. Instead, she had Mr. Canoehead.



Uh huh. Who's crazy NOW?

Of course, I also had Fables of the Green Forest





And I remember drawing lots of pictures of this guy:


and this guy:


And loving robot guys like this:


Strangely, my mom didn't like any of the Tyew Yan (superheroes.)

Oh, and who could forget Akko chan?

I can still sing the whole theme song (in Japanese) and say the curse that will turn you into a big blue snake (in Cantonese.) How very useful.

What do you remember?