Happy Birthday to my dad, who was born 68 years ago today.

My dad is the best. He's one of the most intelligent and interesting people I know. He teaches psychology, and has a lot of interest in science fields. But, being the renaissance man that he is, he also has a great love of music and photography. He's also a new age guy, because he practices and teaches meditation.

My dad inspires me to be more grounded and sensible. He inspired my love of music, as well as my love of science. I think I'm also an animal lover because of him.

I love my dad. :)

My rabbit, Momo, has been working hard on his website.

Other than the Rainbow Bridge blog, it's a little light on content, but he's been a busy bunny, so I'm sure that will develop further over time.

If I had several thousand dollars lying around, I'd consider commissioning one of these.

Geez Ev, was the search you set up that bad?

Last night Blogger had a search page. Now it's gone again. LOL

The people on my bunny mailing list are up in arms over a Winnipeg artist who used dead rabbits in an art exhibit.

Definitely gross, probably not art, but I'm not going to bust a gut over this one. Some people will do anything to get noticed, including creating meat sculptures.

Which reminds me of my visit to the Vancouver Art Gallery. It has quite the collection of modern art, some of which had me laughing hysterically, although they weren't intended to be funny. 3 television sets playing looped videos of people's heads spinning rapidly. An all-black canvas called "Magenta and Green". It made me think, YES! You TOO can be an artist! You can hang a mechanical pendulum from the ceiling that swings above a pool of water and ink and call it art. You can splice together scenes from a Jackie Chan film with your own footage and call it art. You can film the world's slowest chain reaction (involving many a bowling ball, bucket of water and ladder) and call it art.

Was it art? I have no idea. But did I laugh? Oh hell yes! I especially enjoyed "Country Self, City Self", a looped video of the artist dressed as two different people, concluding with the city-self kicking the country-self repeatedly in the backside. That had several people in stitches.

I'm going to break out onto the art scene with something I found in the back of the fridge that is no longer recognizable. It asked me to display it, so I figured I owed the sentient bit of organic matter that much. You're all invited to the gala opening.

Sometimes I worry about some Japanese young people.

I would share his ire, if it weren't for the fact many beautiful people don't see themselves that way.

I've had friends (ex-friends, actually) who would spit so-called compliments at me with their voices dripping with acid. They seemed to be under some strange impression that I am one of the beautiful people, one of those to be envied and hated.

All I could do was look at them with genuine disbelief and think, "Do you know what I wake up to in the morning?". I don't think anyone wakes up in the morning, looks in the mirror, and says, "Good morning, sunshine! Godammit, you're beautiful." No one floats through life with nary a hair out of place. It takes hours to put those fucking hairs in place. And waxing? And tanning? And make-up? Time, not to mention money, is poured into the hopeless pursuit of perfection.

No matter how good any of us looks, I'm sure we all prod our fat pads while standing naked in front of the mirror, no matter how large or small those fat pads are. People with curly hair bemoan the curliness, people with straight hair bemoan the straightness.

I suspect those two beautiful people were probably drunk with lust and disbelief that they had somehow managed to snag someone as good looking as their partner. Especially knowing that she wakes up in the morning with her hair tangled into one giant dreadlock and drools in her sleep, and he wakes up with his greasy hair mashed to his head and farts in his sleep.

Yep, beautiful indeed.

Heroic PETA Commandos Kill 49, Save Rabbit

Touchy-feely link of the day:

Interview with God

I'm back. Being back is good, but damn, I miss Vancouver. Especially the ocean. ~sigh~

Tomorrow I'm having lunch with my friend Chris, followed by a visit to the Pacific National Exhibition (PNE). I'm looking forward to it.

On Sunday, I return home. It'll be good to be home, but I'm going to miss Vancouver. ~sigh~

"My browser won't load, but somehow I can still run this search."

I'm glad to see that this site is a hotspot for finding famous mormons.

Limeworld.com - For all your famous-mormon needs

I saw a documentary today called "Doing Time, Doing Vipassana".

Apparently it won an award at the 1998 San Francisco Film Festival, and it's easy to see why. It's about inmates in Indian prisons who have been given the opportunity to learn Vipassana, a meditation technique.

It's a remarkable story, and I'm looking into doing a 10-day Vipassana course when I get home.

Today, my dad, my step-mom, my sister, her boyfriend and I went to the far end of Jericho Beach, near Spanish Banks.

Finally, after 4 days of pouring rain, the sun came out and I got a chance to go to the beach and wade in the water. The tide was out so I walked out to where the water was and watching very tiny fish dart past me as I walked.

Being at the ocean is pure heaven.

We've got to go take my sister and her boyfriend to the airport now. ~sigh~ The time went so fast. :|

And the food was good! Although there wasn't quite enough of it. I guess I was hungry.

I had the special, a snapper filet with vegetables. It was very good. My step-mom, my sister and I shared a banana walnut stack, which was really too small to be called a stack, but it was very tasty with the bits of caramel sauce, whipped cream and ice cream dollopped on the fluffy pastry things.

Tomato is a cute little place with a decor that is part hip and modern, part retro diner. It's well known for the Westcoaster Salad, which has mixed greens, candied salmon and goat cheese in a maple dressing. I was going to post the link to the recipe, but I can't find it. I'll let you know if I find it. :)

Tomato Fresh Food Cafe


3305 Cambie St.


Vancouver, B.C.


604-874-6020

We went to chinatown, but I didn't get the dim sum I longed for. ~sigh~

Oh well. Tonight we're having an early birthday dinner for my dad at Tomato Fresh Food Café. I hope the food is good!

There's a rumour that we're going to Vancouver chinatown for dim sum, so I'm off.

I'm always up for dim sum. :)

Calling all generous spirits who frequent my site

I read a really appalling account of the experience of 2 girls living in New York:

Date: Tue, 21 Aug 2001 08:35:24 -0400 (EDT)


From: FireWallGirl


To: Merry


Subject: my nightmare, it's all true.

Where do I start? It�s Tuesday right? Yes, yes it is. Well, I�ve been terrorized, and despite being legally in the right, still the bad guys win. After we had been locked out illegally by ken and his family, we got the cops to let us back in, this was Friday. We had no interaction with ken all weekend, so on Sunday afternoon Rachael called ken at work to see if he would be home that night so we could discuss the situation, and let him know that we�d be out of there in no more than 3 weeks time. Strangely despite all of the hostile measures taken, we had still not had the opportunity to speak with ken in person, aside from a brief talk on the street in front of the apt on Friday afternoon after we discovered that we were locked out, at which point kens step father mark had interrupted and told ken that under no circumstances were we allowed back into the apt unless we had 2 months rent cash or a moving truck to remove our belongings. When we informed him that this was illegal and told him we were going to call the cops, the step-father left with haste. Ken told us on the phone on Sunday that he did not know if he was coming home, and apparently after the conversation ended he rounded up his cavalry and brought them over that night after work.

Rachael and I installed a doorknob on our bedroom with a key-lock, we went home Sunday and hid in the bedroom, door closed and locked, and we lay there in bed, naked, at 10pm. It was hot and we have no air conditioning. There was no hanky-panky, thank god. Because we heard the front door open, footsteps, and then BAM BAM BAM, with that our bedroom door was busted open, no, no knocking, no civilities, no rational adult behavior, but instead we were greeted by an irate and insane step-father of Ken. His hair was wild from the few shoves it took to knock in our bedroom door, and immediately he began screaming at us, �GET OUT!� �GET OUT!� Kens mother shows her small little head through the door, surveys the situation and begins chanting as well, �get out get out get out!�. I had the foresight to cover myself with a sheet, I was standing near the bed while this ensued, Rachael was near fetal on the bed in shock, not moving, and naked. He began kicking things at the foot of the bed towards us, a fan and anything nearby, he picked up a basket and threw it at my head, I ducked. I tried to reason, asked them to get out long enough for us to dress, he wouldn�t have it. While he was shouting obscenities and threatening us Ken snuck into the bedroom behind his stepfather to grab the cordless phone assumingly so we couldn�t call the police.

I tried to tell him I wanted to call the police, I told him I was going to, I went to find my cell phone, which was somewhere behind this lunatic, and he grabbed the sheet that covered me and said �lets get a good look at you�. I froze, what was I supposed to do?

Rachael still remained on the bed, clutching the bottom sheet around her. He began to drag our bed, which is actually a little less than a futon on the ground, towards the door, and tried to drag it with her on it through the door. She found her cell phone, which lived on the floor near the bed and started to frantically call everyone she could think of, she was in tears and sobbing and completely incoherent. Ken�s mother started mocking Rachael and her tears �oh that�s good, sob sob cry cry, I bet you�re gunna do that when the police get here as well, oooohhhh�. Yeah that�s real believable.�

I grabbed some clothing off of my floor and quickly covered myself moved around while he dragged the bed, got my phone and called the cops.

Ken didn�t show his face, he remained hidden in the living room at the other end of the apt. His mother cheered on the irate stepfather, although eventually she pulled him out of the room and he disappeared, I mean from the apt. Once again he was gone before the cops got there, and all that was left when the police arrived was me haphazardly dressed, Rachael a mess on the bed still naked and clutching covers around her and on kens side, ken himself, his small mother and a doofy looking brother in law who I gathered was named Howard.

The police spoke with them, who played rational human beings for the first time since I was introduced to them, and told us we should just get another apt. which we were, for the record already in the process of looking for. At no point in time did Ken nor his family give us the opportunity to speak or work anything out.

I don�t care if Ken apparently kept his hands clean of the situation by allowing his parents, or step-parents to handle the situation. He allowed his step-father to harass us, threaten and terrorize us.

We might legally be allowed to stay there for the time being, but they win, because I�m frightened. We�ve begun packing, and have everything locked in our bedroom, but that�s obviously not secure, as with a few good pushes the door with lock and all can be knocked in.

These girls are living in hell, and they need help. Badly.

Can you help them? My first choice would be sending a cheque to this address:

Lauren & Rachael Fund


c/o Flynn/Krieger


8325 SW 72nd Ave


Unit 103-C


Miami, FL 33143

However, if PayPal is more your speed, click here.

Any form of love, be it homemade card or otherwise, is also recommended. All love can be sent to the address above.

I personally vouch for Merry, who is a close friend of Lauren and Rachael, so there's no need to worry about any scamming or funny business. If I'm wrong, you can come and kick my ass and extract the amount you donated from the orifice of your choosing. But I don't think that will be necessary.

Thanks for listening. :)

I want to laugh everytime my step-mother and my sister express shock and thinly veiled dismay at how much time I spend on the computer. The people in this house spend more time in front of the TV than I do in front of the computer.

Maybe I should sit slumped over on the couch in front of the TV to be more socially acceptable. Or maybe I should strip naked, shove a spatula up my ass, and run around the house screaming at the top of my lungs.

I think I'll stick to the computer.

As a part of my personal growth, my goals for this year include:

1) Getting to know Mary Jane


2) Buying some vowels


3) Partaking in some visually stimulating fungus

This list does not include the friend in a bottle, since it turns me into the world's most depressing person, bar-none. I could make Tellytubies cry.

I went shopping with my sister Linda and her man, James.

When it was time for a break, we went to the Lennox Pub across from Pacific Centre and had a drink. We were watching the Hari Krishnas across the street with deep amusement.

The only people they seemed to be successful in stopping were all Asian tourists who were too polite to walk off like everyone else.

You could tell the Asian-Canadians from the Asian tourists, because the Asian-Canadians would just keep on walking like they hadn't seen a thing. The poor tourists would stop in the pouring rain, listen, read, write something down, some taking almost 5 minutes of their time and setting the umbrella down so they could dig out something to write on.

From across the street, we were doing voice-overs of the dialogue across the street:

Hari Krishna: "Excuse me . . . blah blah blah"


Tourist: (thinking) "Is he selling maps?"


Hari Krishna: "Blah blah blah" hands tourist a pamphlet


Tourist: (thinking) "This isn't a map. What is he yammering about?"


Hari Krishna: "Enlightenment . . . blah blah blah"


Tourist: (thinking) "Is he offerring tours?"


Hari Krishna: "Meeting . . . blah blah blah"


Tourist: (thinking) "Ooh, maybe I will get to see more of Vancouver! Where did I put my pen?"

Apparently my step-mom thinks I'm addicted to the Internet.

HA! This is nothing. She thinks checking my email every evening after supper makes me weird. She should see me on my OWN computer!

All those of you who know what I'm talking about may now join me in a hearty belly laugh.

I am in Vancouver!

Occassionally I have been known to follow through on plans, this being one example.

Haven't seen much yet, since I spent the day recovering from the 12 hour drive, but I plan to go to the beach . . . a lot. And after I go to the beach, I'll probably go back to the beach. Can you tell I live in a land-locked province? I'm having ocean cravings.

Anyway, I will keep you updated, although I may not be able to upload any pics since I left the disk adaptor at home. ~sigh~

Oh well! You'll get the whole show when I return. :)

Okay, I'm off. Gonzo.

I am off to throw some stuff in a bag, jump in the car and end up in Vancouver.

Ciao . . . arrivederci . . .

Hi, I'm procrastinating.

I said I would leave for Vancouver tomorrow night, and I am dragging my lame ass.

So, instead of doing laundry and organizing things right now, I'm going to go play Poppit.

Warning: Do not play Poppit if you are susceptible to wasting huge amounts of time.

Proof that Indian women are goddesses:

Indian women are so beautiful.

Excuse me while I wet myself with joy . . .

Asian Bastard is back, but this time he's Alan Thicke!

I got a kiss today. A very special kiss. A kiss from a bunny.

It's not so much that Momo suddenly decided he loved me or something. I think for the most part I finally stopped fearing that everytime he got close to my leg he wanted to take a chunk out of it.

I was sure he was going to nip me. I was sure that he was going to bite me for being in his path and leave a lovely bruise. But I didn't care. I figured a bite wouldn't kill me, and I'd see what happens. And then he kissed me.

He groomed my leg with a loving appreciation usually reserved only for other bunnies. He groomed my leg, then settled in to snuggle up against me for more petting. I thought my heart was going to burst.

Everyday Momo teaches me something new about bunnies, and I am grateful to him for being such a patient teacher. He has helped me redeem myself from my former ignorance. He has taught me that bunnies can be loving, spirited companions who long for your company as much as any dog or cat. He plays games, he jumps, binkies, tosses his head. He is bold and not easily intimidated. He fears no cat, but the chinchillas that are 1/5 his size bully him.

And he loves. Oh how he loves. I feared him for so long . . . I didn't know what to do with a bunny who peed on me when I napped nearby and bit my ankles when I was in the way. I was so afraid. But after he was neutered, a calmer side of him appeared. He would splay himself on the floor and smoosh next to my leg. He would tuck his head under my leg as though he felt safe and happy as long as I was there to pet him. When I lay on the floor on my stomach, we would put our heads together and snuffle lovingly as though I too were a bunny.

And now, I am head over heels in love with a rabbit. ~sigh~

I think my childhood rabbits, Twinkie and Arnold, would be proud.

Okay, no surprise, the trip is postponed.

But honestly, it's not us! They unexpectedly acquired another house guest, and thus do not have any room for any more bodies.

I'm still going, but I don't know when. I'll keep you posted. :)

Oy, I've been quiet lately, haven't I?

Well fear not, I haven't abandoned you. Preparations for my trip to Vancouver have kept me busy, and continue to do so.

We were planning on leaving tomorrow morning, but I still have more packing and organizing to do before I leave. We're aiming for Thursday, but really I don't have to be there until Saturday. It would be nice to get there early, but if you know Forever North and I, you'll know that almost never happens.

Before I give myself too much time to think and reflect, I'd better get to bed. I have a real balls-to-the-wall packing and organizing day ahead of me. :)

G'night kids, be good.

I'd like to thank the dumbfucks who dumped their cats outside because they weren't wanted anymore.

There's nothing I enjoy seeing more than a beautiful cat who wants desperately to be loved, but is instead going to be euthanized because there are too many cats needing homes.

And I'd like to send an extra special thank you to the dumbfuck who contributed to the demise of this poor cat, whose fate is probably very grim:

To the dumbfucks who dump their pets like so much garbage, I'm sure you'll be glad to know that there are people who work at your local city pound who diligently take pictures of every animal that is brought in. They feed them, they bandage them, when they can they take a moment to comfort them. And then they wait for you to come and get them.

But they know you're not coming. They take a picture of each animal knowing that it may be the first and last picture ever taken of each animal. They post each picture to the website knowing that no one is going to come for them. And they wait until the fated day comes when they have to take that animal and put it down.

Yes indeed, many thanks.

~phew~

I finally finished wading through my backed-up Petbunny email.

I don't have the strength to recount my visit with Petbunny people this weekend or tackle the bunny newsgroups, so I will save those for later when I've regained my strength.

Until then, be good, kids. :)

Do microbes rain down from space?

I don't know, but I'm very excited by the scientific possibilities of this theory!