I keep planning to update. But as the poet said, "The best laid schemes o' mice an' mays / Gang aft agley."
First, my apologies to anyone who got spammed by me last night or this morning. Something got into my old Yahoo account and went to town. I think I know where it came from, not that it helps. I deleted all my contacts from my address book, so that should take care of it. I was going to delete the account outright, but I remembered that it's hooked into my Flickr account. That would have been bad.
The new boy is doing very well. We're thinking of naming him Castile (or Castille). (Not Castiel, so get your little SPN shipper hearts under control.) Both Dar and I came up with that name independently, btw. We also both thought of "Quinn", but I really like Castile more. His mom, Cinnamon Girl, is back to being The Incredible Psycho Mom from Hell. Frequent screeching comes from the paddocks when anyone even breathes too closely on Cas. That's a drag for him because he and Echo have discovered each other, and the cria games are commencing - until CG notices and comes charging in to protect her baby. Oh well, Ripley survived her over-protectiveness, and so will the little guy.
As some of you know, Mark (
browncoat) has a new job in Toronto. That's a two-hour drive one way. As some of you also know, my car is still sitting dead in the driveway. It used to be that I'd drive Mark into work and borrow the Jeep when we needed to run errands. Not so much now with the driving into Toronto to drop him off thing. Mark experimented with commuting by bus, and that works. I have to get up at 5AM to get him to the bus station on time, but at least we have access to transportation.
Dar has a call in to Immigration; we're waiting for them to call back. Hopefully they'll actually do that this time, unlike the last two times when they never returned the call. Apparently when I called last week, I used a different number than she uses, which is why I got a call center clerk and she gets to talk to an Immigration clerk. Or something like that. I'm very confused about this whole process. It makes no sense. I'm sure that
sparky77 agrees with me.
Still flaring. The Flare That Would Not Die. It's better today than it was yesterday and waaaay better than it was on Sunday. So there's light on the horizon, or however that cliche goes.
New TV is upon us. I'm enjoying
Glee, but it's more for the dialogue and characters than for the music. I'm old; I don't know most of those songs, and I don't really like them. (Although I enjoyed "I bust the window out your car" or whatever that was.) "Hey, you kids! Get your dang hippy-hoppy music off my TV!" *shakes TV remote pathetically* I saw the first ep of
Community and fell in love. It's just my type of ensemble comedy - smart, funny, fast-paced. I even love the main character (Jeff?), whom I think we're supposed to hate. But I don't. Love! And it also has John Oliver! This show compels me to overuse exclamation points!!!
Here in Canada we're several weeks behind the States with both
Project Runway and
Top Chef. I'm doing the "no spoiler" dance, especially around Television Without Pity. It's not too bad now because there are still so many contestants left in each show that I can't keep them straight right now anyway, but as it winnows down, I'm going to be doing some heavy duty eye averting.
And speaking of
Top Chef, I find the show a mystery. Most of the time I have no idea what they're talking about when it comes to various styles of cooking and such. I don't even like food that much, really. Presentation? Balance of flavors? Means nothing to me. I don't understand waiting in a long line to eat at a particular restaurant, and I really don't get paying large sums of money for a meal, especially considering where it all ends anyway. But still I love this show. It's their mastery of their craft, I think. It's the same with
Project Runway. I love the skill and the imagination that the competitors bring to the shows. I could never do what any of them do. Never ever. And I applaud them. Even crazy Malvin and his mother hen outfit.