FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS

if you haven't already, you must immediately check out this new show on HBO. these two kiwis are hilarious.
the songs are great, they look fabulous, and you will laugh your head off. i did.

seriously, i'm just trying to put a photo on my profile, so i needed to blog something. it's short.

i am yamaduff

just so you knows, adrienne is the godmommy.

I am a house

Okay, so...wow. It's been quite some time since I've been on this thing.

What's new? I am huge. I am about 35 weeks pregnant. For those of you who might not know, that's pretty big. About 8 months. Not much longer now. In fact, I've begun counting down the days.

It's a boy. We saw his little penis and balls on the ultrasound. It was quite endearing.

In terms of names, we are having a hard time. There's a short list, which include some really great suggestions from dear friends and family. Some of them include:

JACKO (megu)
BUBBLE WRAP (gmac)
SHALABI SHALABI SHALABI THE MUSICAL! (sam shalabi)

We are taking all suggestions. And yes Meg, Shalobster's pretty hot.

Anyways, our lives will soon be changed forever, if they haven't changed already.
We can't wait to meet little Jacko. Or Bubble wrap. It's really quite exciting.

searching for sam

oh, wherefore art thou, sam shalabi?

i was on a plane the other day flying from london back home to vancouver when i couldn't stop thinking about my old friend sam shalabi. i wondered how he was, where he was, and what kind of trouble he had gotten himself into now. i always regretted not getting a chance to say goodbye to sam. the last time i saw him was probably at the bar, then, in st. johns. i asked him if he was heading back home to montreal the next day, and he said he didn't know. maybe he'd stick around. i never saw sam again. he's such a freakin' nomad.

i miss the shalobster. shalobinator. missed his stories about growing up in prince edward island and tending chickens and milking cows. his obsession with anne of green of gables, a desire which permeated his childhood and haunts him still. his tales of his adventures sailing makeshift rafts down the rivers and creeks nearby to his home. i missed his songs about whales and horses. i also miss the way he could effect a room. the shalabi effect. with his clever banter and witty comebacks. his bang-on immitations of tom cruise, as well as other celebrities. sam is a total riot. you can't keep that guy down.

i really hope i'll see him again soon.

sending some tlc out to you sam, wherever you may be.

belly dancing aint my game

i went to a belly dancing class tonight. you see, i'm in theatre and i often find myself doing the strangest things. there's a bit in a play i'm working on where my character comes out and does a couple of moves and then "jumps" into a river. fine. so i go to this class. first of all, the teacher, obviously a woman whose been doing this for a long time, has the perfect belly dancing...um...well, belly. it sticks out in all the right places and is like, one big muscle. she's going slow at first, which i can kind of grasp, but then she inevitably speeds up and i'm totally lost. my belly is not dancing. it doesn't want to move like she's moving and my stomach is starting to hurt. at one point she comes up to me and tells me i don't understand what the oriental line is. i'm like, pleaze sister, i'll show you an oriental line. but i try. i move my hips, i shimmy, and i struggle to keep up with the damn belly dancing tornado that's all around me.

near the end of the class, she puts on this music and we walk. it's our entrance, so we're workin' it. now this part, i like. it's like the last scene in saturday night fever where john travolta struts. walking i can do.

mitch's fuzzy balls

Saori and I are walking down a quiet street somewhere off Main. Nice day today, slight breeze and the cherry blossoms are snowing soflty around....Sometimes when we go for walks we try our best to befriend the neighbourhood cats. Especially Saori, who loves animals so much we have banned her from watching "March of the Penguins" (she really couldn't handle it, believe me). Today we meet Mitch, a smallish adorable black tom-cat with a white patch just under his face that makes him look like he's wearing a tiny scarf. We both do our standard make-friends-with-cats posture, which means we squat down and put out our hands and make kissy noises. He approaches happily — in fact— he can't decide which one of our extended hands to go to first. We pet him and he is soon rolling around on the sidewalk, loving the attention. As he's rolling we see his balls. They are about the cutest things you have ever seen: small, round, fuzzy, perfectly symmetrical. I can't resist, so I touch one (he doesn't seem to mind). They kind of feel like grapes with hair. My sister and I are squeeking and sqwaking about how cute his balls are when a young fellow with groceries approaches down the sidewalk. He says, "Comon' Mitch," and turns into a nearby house. Mitch, as we now know his name, follows excitedly. We are kind of embarrassed, although we are unsure as to whether said owner saw us feeling up his cat.

I'm not a cat pervert, please. Don't think poorly of me. Mitch seemed just fine with it, really.

tuxes and fried chicken

I took my father to go rent a tuxedo this morning, for my sisters upcoming wedding.
My father is normally reluctant to do anything like this, especially anything to do with clothes or fashion.
He definitely has his own style, however, complete with standard gwg's, mac shirt and some kind of shade of brown sweater.
That's how he's dressed this morning to go try on his tux. I insist he gets a traditional, two button number. He lingered first near a long-jacketed tux that was quite elaborate. He agrees on the traditional, but doesn't like the vest and tie on the dummy because he says it doesn't 'CONTRAST' well enough. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY DAD?! So he chooses a darker grey vest, with a platinum coloured tie and kerchief. He actually looks really great in the tux. He did some poses and danced around a bit, pretending to be Fred Astaire. He said the shoes are "tooooo shiny!!!" but he's gonna wear them because they're part of the ensemble.

After we rent the tux, I'm supposed to take him for breakfast (instructions from my mother before we left the house). I ask him what he wants for breakfast, and he says: "FRIED CHICKEN." Okay... He says "There's a place, by the stationary store...you know that one? CHA-CHU...CHACH. Churches Chicken. And the stationary store is Staples. So I take him to Churches and he orders two pieces of chicken and a coffee and sits down to eat his "breakfast." I get an orange juice and sit across from him, watching his fingers get all sticky as he eats. When he's all done, he says to me the following, which I will never forget, not for a million years:

"You know dat Kentucky Fried Chicken? It's one dolla more for two pieces. Here, it's 4.59 for two piece. There, it's almost six buck for two pieces. And if you go to New Westminster Key you can get two pieces of chicken for 2 dollas!" His eyes are really, really wide.

I have to ask.

"How much fried chicken you eatin' Dad?"

"Not much. That's why I like it. Just every once in while."