I have no clever words with which to bring 2006 to an end.

I’m still alive. That’s good enough for me.

Errands. I spend my vacations doing errands, cleaning the house, and — inevitably — painting things.

Today we (minus Maddy, who spent the day happily playing at daycare since she would’ve been bored to tears by all of this) pursued a missing bit of a plumbing fixture, took many boxes of books downtown to the Trinity Book Sale, looked at glass block for the shower wall, and searched out more Mill Street Coffee Porter (highly recommended). I did some laundry and D did some drywall sanding, because once the mudding is done I can paint and it just wouldn’t be a vacation without the smell of primer in my nose. AND we went to Ikea in search of bathroom cabinets.

Cabinets which we found, only a little bit hidden (who decided to display bathroom cabinets in the Bedroom section?).

And they were okay, but they had the dreaded “speak to a ‘co-worker’ about these items” tags.

But we quickly found a “co-worker” who told us where they could be found in the warehouse.

And they were actually there.

All of them. Frames, doors, shelves — all on the shelf, exactly where they were supposed to be, in the colours and sizes and quantities we needed.

We’ve clearly blown our Ikea karma for the next decade or so. Woe is us when we go to acquire kitchen cabinets…

Sitting next to me on the table, her power light breathing quietly in the way that Macs do, is my shiny new black MacBook — my present from D, who obviously knows very, very well how to make me happy.

She is a thing of beauty, this MacBook, and a few light-years ahead of the slightly-ailing 2001 Dell laptop I’m using at the moment. Tomorrow I’ll have time to get her all set up properly (I’ve only got the wireless configured at the moment)[1] and perhaps then she’ll reveal her name.

There are four computers on our dining room table at the moment (plus a stray tiara, a strange little screwdriver, and some Kleenex because we are all still sick). More computers than people — geek.family.

[1]: …which really means, buy and install Civilization IV

On our way into the schoolyard we accumulated Maddy’s friend S (his mom sometimes leaves him with me while she drops off her older child).

“Shortcut!” S yelled, and they both took off across the field, heading to the kindergarten yard.

Five seconds later, “new shortcut!” and they’re running back towards the fence — away from the intended destination. Repeat, repeat. They zigzag haphazardly (but at high speed) down the field until they near the portable classroom near the kindergarten entrance. “Look! There’s a shortcut here too!” and they take a looooong loop around the entire portable.

Still, they were running and I was walking so they got to the kindergarten gate first and had to wait for me, panting and grinning. “See? I told you it was a shortcut!”

Originally uploaded by opeksei.

…reminding me of how cold and snowy it emphatically is not, at the moment. If I wasn’t still sick — still!! It’s been over three weeks now; very boring — I’d be out enjoying the weather. As it is I’m just wrapping up work so I can head off for a massage and then two much-needed weeks of vacation.

But back to the photo. I liked the curve of the shoreline and the reflection in the water in this one — something about the light/dark balance — and the fog adds a bit of mystery. The photographer is Finnish.

The BBC reports that the top Google search terms this year were

1. Bebo
2. Myspace

…which is kind of peculiar, if you think about it a moment. Both Bebo and Myspace have blindingly obvious URLs, so instead of typing into a Google search box you could type into the address bar directly (you could even leave off the .com, since modern browsers will generally add it for you) and save both time and clicks. Wikipedia also made the top 10.

I bet that this is because a lot of folks Google everything now. From what I’ve observed, many people aren’t even bookmarking things, let alone using the address bar to type URLs. You want Hotmail? Google “hotmail” then click through. The browser’s become irrelevant to these people — what do browser features matter when Google can always get you where you need to go?

While this says good things about the reliability of Google, I think it also speaks to the profoundly disempowering experience that Internet Explorer creates for the inexperienced user. (And let’s be real: these people are using IE.) It has warnings! All kinds of warnings and security notices and popups asking intrusive questions! And mystery: IE hides the underlying processes, so you’re forever guessing what’s really going on. It’s scary. It doesn’t lead anyone to want to play with it or explore settings that would make it better. No, many people find it better to rely on Google, which is reassuringly straightforward despite (and because of) its lack of features.

People who are used to almost entirely disregarding their browser find it hard to understand what geeky folks like me find so great about Firefox. I can run myself out of breath talking about features! extensions! customizability! open source! and by the way people’s eyes glaze over I may as well be reciting machine language poetry or pi to n-hundred decimal places (not that I can do that. I’m not that geeky). There’s nothing in their experience on which my words can build.

The Internet lets us manipulate and contribute to the enormous flow of content and connect with each other in wonderful new ways — and here we have people who are so disempowered by the technology that they passively rely on a search engine to tell them where to go instead of taking the nominal but active step of going there directly.

It’s a shame, really.

I was working at home today, sitting in the dining room with a view into the living room. Every time the furnace came on all the leftover balloons from Maddy’s party — still heliumed to the living room ceiling, with long ribbons hanging down — would move around slightly in the breeze, like eerie aerial jellyfish. Disconcerting.

Why online should be off limits in the bedroom

And on and on it goes. Wherever you find a household with wireless technology, you will more than likely find a man who is trying to bring a laptop into bed and a woman who is trying to prevent him from doing it. One girlfriend of mine confided that she got wireless so her boyfriend wouldn’t retreat to his study all night. Now, the computer in bed is threatening their sex life.

If Leah McLaren was in my bed, I’d cling to my laptop, too. But she misses the whole purpose of the laptop/wireless setup. The point of having wireless is so two people (or more, I suppose) can sit companionably in bed, each with his/her own laptop, and email each other about cool stuff.

Five years ago right about now I was being wheeled into a hospital room with a brand-new Maddy. I’d barely slept in three days, I was all stoned on endorphins from labour and I was hungry for the first time in 38 weeks and 6 days.

It can’t have been five years ago already!

Until very recently Maddy was the sort of kid that would spring out of bed, bubbling with happiness and talkativeness and raring to start the day.

That, thank goodness and all possible gods, has stopped.

I am SO not a morning person. I am a lizard and need time to crawl out of my cave and warm up under my heat lamp before I can communicate effectively with humans. I like silence for, I don’t know, a couple of hours, until I’ve eaten and mostly digested breakfast and read the paper and soaked extensively in a very hot shower. (Anyone with kids will realize this is pretty much a fantasy, but it is one I cling to.) Breakfast conversation at our house often goes something like this:

D: blah blah Afghanistan blah blah blah travesty! Blah blah blah government blah blah blah tanks and air cover blah blah blah army blah blah blah blah public doesn’t understand blah blah blah all wrong!
Me: You are talking again.
D: Sorry.

This is Maddy 10 minutes after she was called to breakfast:

Apparently she does contain my genetic material after all. Yay.

They say “Please mommy, may I do the dishes?”
and “Let’s make a pie for my brother!’
Are they sincere? Are they crazy?
Or are they just trying to stick it to mother?

Daughters of Feminists (MP3) from the rather hard-to-find album Momnipotent by the irrepressible Nancy White. (I feel a bit compelled to post this, after the ballet thing!)

The CBC is reporting that the Conservatives will introduce a motion to reopen the issue of same-sex marriage. Apparently in their world that horse ain’t dead, it’s just resting.

I am not gay. Not even “questioning”. But if I had to marry either another woman or a member of Stephen Harper’s government, the Tory wouldn’t stand a chance.

edited to add:

Five Surgeons are discussing the types of people they like to operate on.

The first surgeon says: “I like to see accountants on my operating table, because when you open them up, everything inside is numbered.”

The second responds: “Yeah, but you should try electricians! Everything inside them is color coded.”

The third surgeon says: “No, I really think librarians are the best; everything inside them is in alphabetical order.”

The fourth surgeon chimes in: “You know, I like construction workers? those guys always understand when you have a few parts left over.”

But the fifth surgeon shut them all up when he observed: “You’re all wrong. Politicians are the easiest to operate on. There’s no guts, no heart, no balls, no brains and no spine, and the head and the butt are interchangeable.”

edited again — I see Rick Mercer’s on the case as well.

Update: The motion was defeated. We’re saved from hearing endless tiresome blather from those who have a problem with equality rights.

We have for the viewing enjoyment of the grandparents (I can’t imagine anyone else will stick this out for the full 1:43) a video of many small girls trying hard to remember their dance routine while also thinking of the pizza and cookies they’ll get once they’re done, while also trying not to stare at the watching parents.

I’d say “mine’s the one in the pink” but… yeah.

Mine’s the one in the pink with the purple shoes.

Another one from the depths of my email archive.

I have to agree with the Zero Boss on this one: the holiday season is not the time to be issuing moralistic reminders about healthy eating. It makes the nutrition folks sound pinched and unpleasant — one pictures them sitting, all proper with knees together, sensible shoes and all, martyrlike, on a stiff formal sofa all alone munching carrot sticks (just a few!) while everyone else is in the kitchen getting on with the real party.

There is a time and place for nutrition messages. The Christmas season is not it. Good food, good wine and good company are good mental health too. The waistline — well, we can fix that later.

Here are some better tips, dredged up from an anonymous forwarded email ages ago.

1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they’re serving rum balls.
2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like fine single-malt scotch, it’s rare. In fact, it’s even rarer than single-malt scotch. You can’t find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It’s not as if you’re going to turn into an eggnog-aholic or something. It’s a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It’s later than you think. It’s Christmas!
3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That’s the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.
4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they’re made with skim milk or whole milk. If it’s skim, pass. Why bother? It’s like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.
5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people’s food for free. Lots of it. Hello?
6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year’s. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you’ll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.
7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don’t budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They’re like a beautiful pair of shoes.
   If you leave them behind, you’re never going to see them again.
8. Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or, if you don’t like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?
9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it’s loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards. (Actually, I disagree with this one. I love fruitcake. But I left it in because hey, if everyone avoids it, more for me!)
10. One final tip: If you don’t feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven’t been paying attention. Reread tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner.

Just how many months have we been forced to hear about the internal struggles of a bunch of fairly dull, fairly similar guys? The tedium has been intense and constant, relieved only occasionally by the Toronto Star photo editor, who has taken an obvious dislike to Mr. Ignatieff.

Tell you what. Next time you need to pick a new leader, rip the bandaid off and do it within 24 hours of the time the old guy quits. Get some excitement in there! Maybe arm wrestling would settle it? Or the classic rock-paper-scissors? Or, in the interest of televisability, a cage match. Now THAT would get out the votes.

Love,

Me.