tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34968280640123916222024-03-05T02:37:33.395-05:00Want Some Cheese With That Whine?I'm going to type stuff, and you're going to read it.Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-42454046963762755112012-08-17T15:46:00.001-04:002012-08-17T15:46:24.467-04:00CN Tower Stair Climb<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A couple of times a year the CN Tower in Toronto opens its stairwell for people to collect sponsors and climb it for charity.<br />
<br />
This year I have signed up to climb all 1,776 steps in support of <a href="http://www.unitedwaytoronto.com/" target="_blank">The United Way of Toronto.</a> This is taking place on October 20, 2012, so I'd better get crack-a-lackin' with the stairs training. <br />
<br />
If you'd like to support me, please click on the link below. Anything at all is appreciated, 100% of any moneys collected goes to the UW of Toronto, and you'll even get a spiffy tax receipt.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1563574#.UC5sK7TbKVk.facebook" target="_blank">Sponsor Caterina Valente</a><br />
<br />
Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart, for your support!</div>
Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-28248931304061232862012-04-19T09:22:00.002-04:002012-04-19T09:22:35.031-04:00You know it's too damn early when....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
...even the cats don't want to hear your crap.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i.imgur.com/uAe7q.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qda="true" src="http://i.imgur.com/uAe7q.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-91497859582139950772012-01-12T10:47:00.001-05:002012-01-12T16:28:33.651-05:00Cool Blog Alert!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I don't live near New York City, and the chances are pretty slim that I'm going there any time soon, but it is a city that I would really love to visit sometime in my life. This blog that I discovered when a friend shared one of its posts makes me want to visit all the more.<br />
<br />
It's called <a href="http://www.scountingny.com/" target="_blank">Scouting New York</a>, and it's written by a film location scout, and some of the places he finds are just amazing. Places that the rest of the city never gets to see, or just ignores as they go about their business. I'm a big fan of abandoned places and beautiful (if sad) urban decay, so this blog really hit the spot.<br />
<br />
I'd like to add that the photography is stunning. You almost get the feeling you're actually there.<br />
<br />
Check it out when you have some time.</div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-1970930469255630262011-04-25T21:11:00.001-04:002011-04-25T21:11:40.583-04:00Oh, Hypocrisy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Remember <a href="http://notthesinger.blogspot.com/2009/03/twitter.html">this post</a> where I denounced Twitter?<br />
<br />
I am ashamed to say I signed up for it this past weekend. It was totally peer-pressure-driven. The whole kiddie-table was doing it!<br />
<br />
Anyhow, I really didn't know what I was missing. I rather enjoy it muchly. You can follow me if you like, but I'm not saying anything worthwhile. I'm mostly following celebrities.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.twitter.com/ItIsntValentine"><img alt="Follow ItIsntValentine on Twitter" src="http://twitter-badges.s3.amazonaws.com/follow_me-a.png" /></a></div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-61752181576684611352011-04-11T21:59:00.000-04:002011-04-11T21:59:41.343-04:00Bald Eagle Cam!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">OMG OMG OMG LOOK AT THE BABIES!<br />
<br />
Live from their tree-top nest at a fishery in Iowa, it's the Decorah Eagles! It's a 24/7 live webcam trained on a pair of bald eagles and their three chicks (eaglets?). Enjoy, because I know I am!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.ustream.tv/decoraheagles">Decorah Eagles</a></div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-41476543322634612862011-02-17T23:06:00.000-05:002011-02-17T23:06:31.548-05:00New Hardware! Woot!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So, I just purchased a lap-top for myself, so hopefully I can update my blogs more often now.<br />
<br />
That's all I've got for now. </div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-81384343204028604442010-07-29T14:25:00.000-04:002010-07-29T14:25:03.044-04:00Mind PurgeJust a few things on my mind that I want to say but don't know where else to:<br />
<br />
1. If only he were younger.<br />
2. I wish those Korean ladies in the building coffee shop would get some crunchy peanut butter.<br />
3. Just when you think you have time to get something done, they throw something else at you.Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-55253408409165771722010-07-09T10:44:00.002-04:002010-07-29T14:20:18.822-04:00I've hit a brand new low.I signed up on <a href="http://www.plentyoffish.com/">Plenty Of Fish</a> the other day. Not for anything serious, just to see what it's about, but the fact that I did it still makes me wonder if I have a split personality, and the other person in my head is on some kind of behaviour-altering substance.<br />
<br />
I will probably delete or clean out my account pretty soon though. I've always been an advocate of actually talking to a person...in...person<span style="font-size: xx-small;">...(too many "persons") </span><span style="font-size: small;">instead of online for that sort of thing anyway.</span><br />
<br />
UPDATE: I deleted the account. What a waste of time I will never get back.Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-4540113113606849812010-07-06T09:45:00.000-04:002010-07-06T09:45:46.393-04:00It's like a heat waaaaaaaaave, burnin' in my heart!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Okay, not exactly in my heart. But darn near everywhere else! This week we've been under a bona fide heat wave, which is three or more consecutive days with temperatures at 32 degrees or more (that's 89.6 degrees for my American friends). Tomorrow is supposed to be the hottest day of the week, with the humidex factor making it feel like 44 degrees (111.2 degrees)!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Luckily I work in a nicely temperature-controlled office, and I haven't had to deal with the outside weather much during the day, but I really feel for all the people whose jobs have them working outside, and especially the homeless. Toronto usually sets up cooling centers for days like this, but maybe not everyone can take advantage. It is really like walking into an oven. I just hope that everyone can keep hydrated and cool as best as they can.</div><br />
The best part about all this is that yesterday we already had a power transformer explode in the west end of the city. I think about 250,000 people were without power. With the days getting hotter as the week goes on and everyone turning their A/C to 11, I am hoping that this doesn't happen again. This is why that big blackout in 2003 happened! I suppose we're more prepared for that now, though. They said on the news that yesterday's power outage could have been much worse if they weren't so quick to disconnect the transformer station from the main power grid. We just have to be smart about our A/C use.<br />
<br />
Okay, I lied. The REAL best part about all this is the killer apocolyptic thunderstorm we're inevitably going to get when the humidity finally hits the breaking point. I really love thunderstorms and am looking forward to it!Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-49520567290042192722010-06-23T14:48:00.001-04:002010-06-23T14:56:14.647-04:00I like a little chaos mixed in with my order.Today at 1:41 pm there was a 5.0 magnitude earthquake, with the epicenter at 49 km north of Cumberland, ON, at about 19 km below the earth's surface.<br />
<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="350" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://maps.google.ca/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=cumberland,+ontario&sll=49.891235,-97.15369&sspn=26.811401,55.195313&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Cumberland,+Ottawa+Division,+Ontario&ll=45.517421,-75.405892&spn=0.227053,0.431213&t=h&z=11&output=embed" width="425"></iframe><br />
<small><a href="http://maps.google.ca/maps?f=q&source=embed&hl=en&geocode=&q=cumberland,+ontario&sll=49.891235,-97.15369&sspn=26.811401,55.195313&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Cumberland,+Ottawa+Division,+Ontario&ll=45.517421,-75.405892&spn=0.227053,0.431213&t=h&z=11" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small><br />
<br />
My mom and I were on lunch, getting into the car after shopping, and felt the car rock. It is a little windy today since we're anticipating a thunderstorm, so I thought it was the wind, but as a joke I wondered at it being an earthquake. We turned on the news and just as we did they were reporting that they just got word of people feeling the ground shake. We booked it back to work to make sure everything was okay there, and they must have evacuated the building, but we were allowed back in not to long after.<br />
<br />
I've never felt an eathquake like that before since they don't really happen in this area, but apparently it stretched as far as Montreal and New York! There wasn't any damage as far as I know, and no one was hurt, so thank goodness for that. I really can't complain about a sissy earthquake like this when other, much more horrible ones have happened, but it gives us something to talk about for a while, I guess.Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-33537662797387636552010-06-16T12:04:00.002-04:002010-06-16T12:05:43.332-04:00So it's World Cup football time...I spent a few days at Blue Mountain at a cottage with some family and friends, and while we were up there and all together, our team had their first game.<br />
<br />
Can you guess which team that is?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1-LSTSzcK73ZTYeg6iP6uYZ-20vFf7PBdWVfIN8YJoQLKs0PJrV3njnFZRIdY5cuIhhZATbFmBhr_E34cs8_OD64fIxXnKazrElGgBlMQc08gOU7I8m9gmDyjztROtykflMg_F2lQ6ZT/s1600/world+cup+fever.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1-LSTSzcK73ZTYeg6iP6uYZ-20vFf7PBdWVfIN8YJoQLKs0PJrV3njnFZRIdY5cuIhhZATbFmBhr_E34cs8_OD64fIxXnKazrElGgBlMQc08gOU7I8m9gmDyjztROtykflMg_F2lQ6ZT/s400/world+cup+fever.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-55111633782262067862010-06-07T12:53:00.003-04:002010-06-07T13:01:02.947-04:00Monsters that don't get enough love.I'm sure you're all aware of the huge fan base vampires are getting these days, whether you're trying to avoid it or not. Even werewolves are getting some positive attention (and I'll be frank, I prefer those over vampires).<br />
<br />
But what about the other monsters we share our planet with? The ones that the teens and tweens pass over in their goal to get a more glamourous baddie? They deserve some love too!<br />
<br />
<strong>Godzilla</strong><br />
<br />
Sure, he's just a giant iguana, and reptiles give most people the willies, but something about the power to smash a city block with one stomp could kinda get a girl hot under the collar, if she's into power, that is. And really, what girl isn't? And imagine the views if he let you sit on his head as he walks around! Just hope you like Japan! <br />
<br />
<strong>Mummies</strong><br />
<br />
Yeah, mummies DO get the Hollywood treatment once in a while, but they're always cast as the bad guy. Why is that? Maybe they're just looking for a girl to lend them an ear (figuratively). A girl that's into history would love to sit and listen to all he had to say about what he's seen over the millenia. I know I would, being into Ancient Egypt myself. She would just have to learn how to decipher his muffled words through all those linen wrappings.<br />
<br />
<strong>Zombies</strong><br />
<br />
Like mummies, zombies always get a bad rep, but have you ever considered that they can't <em>always </em>be out looking for brains. Maybe once in a while they need a good heart too. Just because you're undead it doesn't mean those feelings just go away. If you don't mind that not-so-fresh smell, a zombie could be for you. Just remember that his feeding time should coincide with your "alone time" to avoid an untimely...breakup. I guess that would be a gentler word for it.<br />
<br />
<strong>Swamp Creatures</strong><br />
<br />
I will admit that it's a little tough to find anything positive to say about a swamp creature. Let's face it, he's stuck living in a swamp, he's had his DNA altered by some kind of radioactive goo, and that's just made him cranky all the time. Most girls just won't put up with that for long. Still, if you get on his good side, you won't have to worry about swamp crocodiles anymore! Okay, this one was a stretch, but there's always a silver lining! I just haven't found it yet.<br />
<br />
Remember folks, it's rare that you'll find the man, woman, or vampire of your dreams. Sometimes if you compromise and change your expectations, you can find that special love of your life in places you never thought possible. Dark, scary places.Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-31788609093069996482010-06-04T16:41:00.001-04:002010-06-04T16:42:26.052-04:00Why can't I take a compliment?-"You have such beautiful hair!"<br />
-"Yeah, but it sheds so much. You should see my shower drain. It's disgusting."<br />
<br />
-"You have such nice skin. You're like a porcelain doll!"<br />
-"Oh, but I break out so much!"<br />
<br />
-"You have a pretty name! Your mother made a good choice!"<br />
-"I wish she chose the English version. No one can spell it or say it properly, and it just sucks."<br />
<br />
People actually said these things to me recently, and I actually responded this way.<br />
<br />
Why? <span style="font-size: x-large;">WHY??????</span>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-10325895742319469562010-06-02T15:24:00.012-04:002010-06-02T16:16:06.411-04:00Places I'd love to revisit, but can't without looking like a creep.<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Oh, the places we've been! In life, people can either move around from house to house, school to school, and job to job, or just stay where they are. Still, no matter what your own past situation is, there are some places you've been that you really can't go back to, even if you wanted to. Whether it's a place that holds fond memories that belongs to someone else now, or an intriguing place you wish you had explored more that doesn't exist anymore, going back there is going to get you arrested for being a peeping tom/pedophile/trespasser.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I'm very nostalgic so here is my list so far. I can see myself expanding on this in later posts. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">1. <strong>Sam the Record Man</strong>:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/99/285305309_94debc5b45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="211" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/99/285305309_94debc5b45.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(picture found on </span><a href="http://spacingtoronto.ca/2007/06/12/sam-the-record-mans-neon-sign-to-be-auctioned/"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">this site</span></a><span style="font-size: xx-small;">, in case someone wonders or complains)</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This wonderful music store near the intersection of <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Yonge</span> & <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Dundas</span> in Toronto was one of my favourite places to go for music when visiting the city, before I found out about Sonic Boom on <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Bloor</span> & <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Bathurst</span> (I have a blurb about <em>that</em> place in an older post). It was founded in 1937 as part of a department store and this flagship location opened in 1961. Sadly, it couldn't keep up with the mp3 take-over of music, and had to close its doors for good in 2007. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I loved going because there was so much history there. Artists would visit for signings, and the walls were riddled with graffiti from visitors from over the years. The layout of the store was pretty cool too. It was two floors, and each genre had its own room with its own music on the P.A.. There was a malt-shop-like snack bar in the rock section (which I don't think was used for a long while in the end) and the Movies room was decorated like a 50's movie theatre with chairs and everything. I could always find the music I was looking for there, too. I still buy <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">cds</span>, I'm into a fair bit of older music, and living in a suburb east of the city, going to the music stores there is useless. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I want to go back</strong>: I went one last time pretty close to when they closed down. You could tell they were getting empty, and were starting to auction off the fittings and decorations. I wanted so badly to take pictures of the place, but all I had on me was a really crappy cell phone camera with little memory, so I missed out on a lot. I still regret it to this day.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I can't go back</strong>: Well, the store is closed down! It's been closed for 3 years. The building is still there, but <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Ryerson</span> University bought it for something or other, and since I'm not associated with <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Ryerson</span> in any way, what reason would I have to go? I'd probably be trespassing.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">2. <strong>My high school</strong>.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLyyiS-I53n_HqwiQ0XsolfUzOg30Dj1vTWClI-0zhzOlCFq80cJ9AGxNAcYGHxH89ncY4O3mCdZlNJhXPeCmqs_WxJpiDzmWeoFKrP1nO317Y1alhUPTTiHs1aw3KSvgiG_XkvbIWiTD/s1600/high.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLyyiS-I53n_HqwiQ0XsolfUzOg30Dj1vTWClI-0zhzOlCFq80cJ9AGxNAcYGHxH89ncY4O3mCdZlNJhXPeCmqs_WxJpiDzmWeoFKrP1nO317Y1alhUPTTiHs1aw3KSvgiG_XkvbIWiTD/s320/high.JPG" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
There are probably millions of people in the world STILL in therapy because of the horrible time they had at high school. I can't say I had a <em>great</em> time either; I was mostly ignored, didn't have a lot of friends, but I wasn't teased and managed to get along with everyone. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I went to a Catholic high school in Pickering (east of Toronto) called St. Mary, and yes, we had to wear the standard uniform, kilt and all. It was known for giving a better education compared to the public schools, and had the best music program in the region. It didn't have a pool, but our sports teams did reasonably well, and the first year I was there, they finally started up a football team (the school only opened in '89, and I was there 1996-2001).</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I want to go back</strong>: Heck, I miss the place. I should have taken more pictures with classmates and students, and should have taken one of the old mural in the cafeteria before the art class went over it with their not-much-better replacement. Just walking the halls and remembering good times would be fun.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I can't go back</strong>: I don't attend the school anymore. My sister doesn't attend the school. My brother doesn't attend the school. I don't teach there, I don't cook in the cafeteria, and I certainly don't clean the place up at night. A random adult wandering in the halls would be wrong, and I'd likely get (forcefully) kicked out.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">3. <strong>My elementary school.</strong><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtiKbJDPIlVdw8kv-k4ZCdcggI11XVly5XqOvyG1mlxk6ow43hRPGgW69QvAiHynRxOTnsGBKFET4a0kzqS-GgnsXzZkWe29hzt2ORW3spzNywHWn298anKY775XidiTKbejp08LWmpHK/s1600/elementary.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMtiKbJDPIlVdw8kv-k4ZCdcggI11XVly5XqOvyG1mlxk6ow43hRPGgW69QvAiHynRxOTnsGBKFET4a0kzqS-GgnsXzZkWe29hzt2ORW3spzNywHWn298anKY775XidiTKbejp08LWmpHK/s320/elementary.JPG" /></a></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I went to three different ones, but the one I stayed at the longest (grades 2 to 8) was St. Isaac <span style="background-color: white;"><span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Jogues</span> </span>in Pickering. It wasn't the best-off school in the area (probably better in the earlier days) and not the biggest either (there was and I am sure still is a port-o-<span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">pak</span> of classrooms in the back). We were right next to St. Isaac <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Jogues</span> church, and even though I'm a staunch atheist now, I still will admit that was pretty convenient.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I want to go back</strong>: Pretty much for the same reasons as why I'd like to revisit my high school. I probably went into almost every room in that school, not including the boys' bathroom, but definitely including the boys' change room in the gym (we used to go to Italian class in the school on weekends, and when we did plays we'd use the change rooms to prepare as the stage was in the gym). Now one room that I never went into that always intrigued me was in the boys' change room and was always locked, and I think it was either a storage closet or gym teacher's office. I would have loved to see what was behind that door, even if probably wasn't all that exciting.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I can't go back</strong>: The same reason for not being able to go back to my high school, only it would be even more creepy because the kids are younger.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">4. <strong>My grandmother's old house</strong>.<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvAmsmNyNPAS4CgYmwtR1jst9RB57n-X0vZeuLw1sFI5uGsZ-Cihm3Ng5JWSNGN7TAwgDnhI-e5ES2f_YPrtXdSKvd7R59_AqJ8xrEBHPUfEYlITKXFwuJ7mp9i32fcaz7AE3Z5ooiDOj/s1600/nonni.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvAmsmNyNPAS4CgYmwtR1jst9RB57n-X0vZeuLw1sFI5uGsZ-Cihm3Ng5JWSNGN7TAwgDnhI-e5ES2f_YPrtXdSKvd7R59_AqJ8xrEBHPUfEYlITKXFwuJ7mp9i32fcaz7AE3Z5ooiDOj/s320/nonni.JPG" /></a></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It's hard to accept the fact that you can't ever go back to a place you were welcome since the day you were born. My grandparents had a few houses since they immigrated from Italy, but the only one I was around for was the one in the <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">McCowan</span> & <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Eglinton</span> area of Scarborough. It was a cute little 2-story semi-detached on a street that was pretty diverse. My aunt used to live down the street, and I suppose you could include her house in this section too. The family would gather there almost every weekend, whether it was for a birthday, a holiday, or just for coffee and conversation. I would sleep over with a couple of cousins often, and would never want to go home. It was a warm, loving place. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">After my grandfather passed away in 2002, my grandmother stayed there a little while on her own, and with my aunt and her family for a while until <em>her </em>new house was built. She and the rest of us decided in 2005, however, that she would probably be too depressed if she stayed there and should move to Ajax with everyone else. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I want to go back</strong>: So many memories there! I would love to sit in the rooms and remember all the things that went on there. All the parties and visits, happy times and sad times. It would probably be tough seeing it empty or filled with other people's stuff though. I didn't really go to the house much in the final days of my grandmother living there, and therefore I feel like I didn't have any closure with it. I still dream about it all the time, about her moving back there, or about using it for a party.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I can't go back</strong>: My grandmother sold the place after my grandfather passed away. That was about 5 years ago now. I don't know if the same family is even living there now. How creepy would it be if some chick showed up at your door and wanted to poke around because some lady lived there before you? Yeah, I wouldn't let me either.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">5. <strong>MY old house</strong>.<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFj1GIqW1gjrz6gp4lb5KKNTTAhyphenhyphenM9pwk1Sv6GykbeMojBfjn1j44RZvxsDqxE_5V1UUYhwfz0IebWuPyvVLjejxDSbwA_9fPWF3xU-OGuJREdIhvHaq6uTQczp5lhmD4D24cTkMuDpOXw/s1600/home.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFj1GIqW1gjrz6gp4lb5KKNTTAhyphenhyphenM9pwk1Sv6GykbeMojBfjn1j44RZvxsDqxE_5V1UUYhwfz0IebWuPyvVLjejxDSbwA_9fPWF3xU-OGuJREdIhvHaq6uTQczp5lhmD4D24cTkMuDpOXw/s320/home.JPG" /></a></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I was born in Toronto, and lived in a couple of places in Scarborough, but we moved to Pickering when I was five (1987), and stayed in the same house until 2005. It was bought brand-new so we wouldn't have any creepers showing up at our door hoping to have a look around at their old place, and it was in a pretty nice area. The school was a 10 or 15 minute walk away, there was a grocery store down the street, and we were pretty close to the mall too. We had fruit trees and a big deck in the backyard and shared it with our neighbours who were my aunt and uncle and cousins, and their oldest, <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #000000;">Stef</span>, is practically like a sister because of that.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">What else can I say about my childhood home that you don't already know about, having one of your own? It was a place to live and love, laugh and cry (and there was a lot of both), the only place I could get a decent night's sleep, and the only place I wanted to be at the end of the day.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In 2004, everyone needlessly decided they needed a change (or whatever. I still don't know what the reason was) and we all bought houses in Ajax, the next city east of Pickering. It wasn't a far move, but it was still a change, and I'm not always accepting of change. Needless to say, I was angry, but still living with my parents and not being able to afford my own place, I had to follow along. We had a hard time selling the place though, and even though our new house was built and ready to move into by July 2005, we didn't officially move in until October. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I want to go back</strong>: Like with my grandmother's house, I didn't really have much closure. We still had the old house for a little while after we moved out and my dad would go back there to fix up here and there before it sold, but I never went back after we left. I'd just like to sit in the rooms and remember, and maybe see what the people who moved in did with the place. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>Why I can't go back</strong>: It belongs to someone else. It would be creepy of me to try and get into a place that isn't mine, and illegal too. I drive by it sometimes because I still do a lot of stuff in Pickering, but I still feel pretty gross doing it.<br />
<br />
Like I said, I'm pretty nostalgic, and I'm sure I'll come up with more places I can't visit anymore, but these are the ones that came to me right now. If you have any places like this, feel free to tell me about it in the comments!</div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-55870299872166346082010-06-01T10:32:00.000-04:002010-06-01T10:32:08.980-04:00Moar Wedding PicturesThe photographer posted her pictures of my cousin's wedding on her Flikr site, and understandably I can't save them to post on here, so I will share the link.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/snowangel-studios/sets/72157624026645393/">Fancy-pants wedding pictures!</a>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-7497320177672380172010-05-26T11:05:00.000-04:002010-05-26T11:05:06.906-04:00The Ten Commandments of a Real Worker<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have always seen this sign hanging in my aunt's house, so I finally decided to take a picture of it, and I will try my best to translate it for you. It's basically ten rules or commandments for the procrastinator.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj22jeaMDH3eGDjeQujSx4f63Mhwjn56VCtOR2La-a5ZrwliyiDykXCYvbq7Rkg6aAnevA42_BsFweuSvWuH790nbBhiknPikkTcbBqKizqnABdTDs7bSPN3fUURfkLNCu8okBlcKsm7e/s1600/Work+rules.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzj22jeaMDH3eGDjeQujSx4f63Mhwjn56VCtOR2La-a5ZrwliyiDykXCYvbq7Rkg6aAnevA42_BsFweuSvWuH790nbBhiknPikkTcbBqKizqnABdTDs7bSPN3fUURfkLNCu8okBlcKsm7e/s320/Work+rules.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1. One is born tired and lives to rest.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2. Love your bed like you love yourself.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">3. Rest up during the day to prepare for sleep at night.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">4. If you see someone resting, help him.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">5. Work is effort. (Not 100% sure about this one)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">6. Don't do today what you can leave for tomorrow.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">7. Do as little as you can and delegate what you have to do to others.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">8. Too much rest never hurt anyone.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">9. If you feel the urge to work, sit down and wait until it passes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">10. If work is acknowledged, so is misfortune (not 100% sure of this either) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Wow, those Italians really love their jobs, huh?</div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-3358527765028537662010-05-26T10:53:00.000-04:002010-05-26T10:53:22.807-04:00A few pictures from my cousin's wedding.<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My cousin got married on Sunday, and although I am very disappointed in how few pictures I managed to take (I was busy being IN them!), I will share some of them. I will try and post some official pictures (and maybe some stolen ones from other people) if I can get my hands on them. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQK78_0xNdX8bMMQWrpdD2DbZbENaeAPZbpMCEXExi3WFn0Yc3WLsHlwHHX4fHLMOyr2AU83BJiQbcDnSj2REgox6jxnWwbDAv6h1slpA7xN8IFWa30Uduc2ufGHQ7aEV4xWhiDmvZg8P/s1600/IMG_0882[1].jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQK78_0xNdX8bMMQWrpdD2DbZbENaeAPZbpMCEXExi3WFn0Yc3WLsHlwHHX4fHLMOyr2AU83BJiQbcDnSj2REgox6jxnWwbDAv6h1slpA7xN8IFWa30Uduc2ufGHQ7aEV4xWhiDmvZg8P/s320/IMG_0882%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">Here are the bridesmaid and flower girl bouquets. They were white roses and some other flowers I'm sorry to say I can't identify. The flower girl had daisies instead of roses, and the bride's bouquet had orchids mixed in with the other flowers.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXX08SJVDzWmMqa0J5AO1aoZtv4AyqW9tZc3IRB2YUadryHPKrrKYTZ5H-ShZUaOQYEkdyc-bprYmiPubMcJv2JQiJEDe_4qK929Feo74azDE4bxqKGIRNCW3YgGslW7nwdVpEcparF_Z/s1600/IMG_0886[1].jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihXX08SJVDzWmMqa0J5AO1aoZtv4AyqW9tZc3IRB2YUadryHPKrrKYTZ5H-ShZUaOQYEkdyc-bprYmiPubMcJv2JQiJEDe_4qK929Feo74azDE4bxqKGIRNCW3YgGslW7nwdVpEcparF_Z/s320/IMG_0886%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here is the bride after (or while?) her corset was being done up.</div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-kQsBw8wLcnootlzsIyHpQXCvLD0Ej_Ku_c3W3YblKtDIVSi_JWD8gxBLCJNMHwwQGzh2Ff307bLSiRXGt80K5X6KeiQ-tyKhYEOIit7qBoI7zBJc1plxBGYoi3KEz78MotH8JuVFaJQ/s1600/IMG_0892[1].jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-kQsBw8wLcnootlzsIyHpQXCvLD0Ej_Ku_c3W3YblKtDIVSi_JWD8gxBLCJNMHwwQGzh2Ff307bLSiRXGt80K5X6KeiQ-tyKhYEOIit7qBoI7zBJc1plxBGYoi3KEz78MotH8JuVFaJQ/s320/IMG_0892%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">My sister, mother and I.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJvEj543SNQdGJkOcm0a_IjRE-7iVzls_DxtXeBCB3eSZGWt3562nfvanuB3YAq5ISfIqj0OqmxZ6ahECE2kfqGKvNFH1pdqiDKz0UFo_gHek2ExAHM9YO8yfrPP8Xx1ov6SVc1wP4oH3/s1600/uh+oh.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJvEj543SNQdGJkOcm0a_IjRE-7iVzls_DxtXeBCB3eSZGWt3562nfvanuB3YAq5ISfIqj0OqmxZ6ahECE2kfqGKvNFH1pdqiDKz0UFo_gHek2ExAHM9YO8yfrPP8Xx1ov6SVc1wP4oH3/s320/uh+oh.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's a sign we saw on the way to the banquet hall. Hope it's not going to be needed! Still, it's a good deal!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJkQ26sgd2Apwp0z58R-XZJIlPJ9I8Pdzo_Ehf0U60115zbLsurO1CxRwoV48-_eF9lfP2N0Y4E4GezTEvUjbZIo9FWTQrWp0AfdM-PYxat9dFG9oDgVa8_w-Kuq8tF94aXnjBKJprL4Cy/s1600/IMG_0894[1].jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJkQ26sgd2Apwp0z58R-XZJIlPJ9I8Pdzo_Ehf0U60115zbLsurO1CxRwoV48-_eF9lfP2N0Y4E4GezTEvUjbZIo9FWTQrWp0AfdM-PYxat9dFG9oDgVa8_w-Kuq8tF94aXnjBKJprL4Cy/s320/IMG_0894%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a></div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">A shot from the park after the ceremony. This wasn't even posed. The photographer just finished taking a picture of the guys, and then told the ring bearer to do something, and I managed to catch all the guys looking at him. Couldn't have been luckier!</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAejXRobCYq2vTBdn1SlQOHF0nMT6QyFLVy5T5JcMNENxHbqkpjN3vgH5O3Q3z_uniHfodwLj-5e5xNSKm9R2G2f4xqZ7dZnK7hFyIr854G9j6qgFKcg8Gk4kfDzofKi5I4uA81hP9StSD/s1600/the+cake.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAejXRobCYq2vTBdn1SlQOHF0nMT6QyFLVy5T5JcMNENxHbqkpjN3vgH5O3Q3z_uniHfodwLj-5e5xNSKm9R2G2f4xqZ7dZnK7hFyIr854G9j6qgFKcg8Gk4kfDzofKi5I4uA81hP9StSD/s320/the+cake.JPG" /></a></div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's the cake. Very cute!</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1CrjRh8d-OGCT3BAePx-zGVJ1XVRKymiHiC_4OAoRjEHkzkgVE3Rp5gCXt-YR4id7flSMrhOohf8vmu_r1jodjuTkVy90wP_Kvfewh_I_xiFpqOMS9eWWOqvRDUo-J2DXPMXNv74zNMw/s1600/Dan-Singh.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1CrjRh8d-OGCT3BAePx-zGVJ1XVRKymiHiC_4OAoRjEHkzkgVE3Rp5gCXt-YR4id7flSMrhOohf8vmu_r1jodjuTkVy90wP_Kvfewh_I_xiFpqOMS9eWWOqvRDUo-J2DXPMXNv74zNMw/s320/Dan-Singh.JPG" /></a></div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">My godson and I dancing.</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2FtslviGqaZwQok6G9Zsf4AolNTgt8zia797T59ue0hmvpiCUwxhp36EIeh5SobNIjZ_KQ-xm4_Xot2D05fllj7i53xUV0M5YAs48_4_lv2FHLJxiDPZ-ETlUoKcilr8G99MI9HkQMONN/s1600/sleepy+kids.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2FtslviGqaZwQok6G9Zsf4AolNTgt8zia797T59ue0hmvpiCUwxhp36EIeh5SobNIjZ_KQ-xm4_Xot2D05fllj7i53xUV0M5YAs48_4_lv2FHLJxiDPZ-ETlUoKcilr8G99MI9HkQMONN/s320/sleepy+kids.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCfoUO9bHIMecSZtAeEqlx4zO6ZBao6kZ_njvWopjhuDTFfVIywQPuQRN6adTkjGhteTKNu9yzLIeLKRo6z5OQzD0zEBKQ-_eo51DmutEsr1rHYy0Nn3mM6JTtwu-Y6XAMgibVU4WPU44/s1600/IMG_0909[1].jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCfoUO9bHIMecSZtAeEqlx4zO6ZBao6kZ_njvWopjhuDTFfVIywQPuQRN6adTkjGhteTKNu9yzLIeLKRo6z5OQzD0zEBKQ-_eo51DmutEsr1rHYy0Nn3mM6JTtwu-Y6XAMgibVU4WPU44/s320/IMG_0909%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a></div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">The young ones were pretty wiped out and they had a "crib" made for them out of chairs. I wished I could do this too, believe me. There was a point I couldn't dance anymore, and I usually can go the whole night. Of course I usually get more sleep the night before a wedding.</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">All in all it was a very enjoyable day, and I wish the bride and groom well with all my heart. Hopefully I can get some better pictures up soon.</div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-45344409742406014332010-05-19T11:34:00.000-04:002010-05-19T11:34:36.901-04:00AYBS Flikr UpdateAs promised, I said I'd post pictures of my revamped Grand Emporium/Grace Brothers when it was done, so here's the link to my photostream:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/catelval/sets/72157623435656816/">My "AYBS Lego"</a>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-10610165992368000832010-05-14T14:28:00.002-04:002010-05-14T14:29:40.362-04:00Funny Sign Time!There's a tree farm near where I live, and I pass by it on the way to and from work. Recently I noticed they put out some signs advertising that they're open. <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This is what it looks like:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitkxYOxBDUEEVrqsJjwDgcExdfBFx9TQ9zgkZ_zVIahm6M9rt2r9jqhnQpbb_Pq7JmHitSC7uvrLv-CzALgLvJD7Oq-G5-PKarrqK7umXlrXvGuId7rGbtuQB-aFFycaY7wBj0dRdRed90/s1600/''trees''.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitkxYOxBDUEEVrqsJjwDgcExdfBFx9TQ9zgkZ_zVIahm6M9rt2r9jqhnQpbb_Pq7JmHitSC7uvrLv-CzALgLvJD7Oq-G5-PKarrqK7umXlrXvGuId7rGbtuQB-aFFycaY7wBj0dRdRed90/s320/''trees''.JPG" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Any guesses at what they're really selling??</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I submitted it to <a href="http://www.unnecessaryquotes.com/">the blog of "unnecessary" quotation marks</a>. Let's see what happens!</div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-78831612221660191262010-05-12T14:50:00.001-04:002010-05-13T08:49:04.107-04:00Tears for Fears!Tears for Fears is coming to our casino circuit this summer. I'm a little sad that it's the casino and not some downtown venue like Lee's Palace or Massey Hall, but hey, if it worked for the Stone Temple Pilots (and they think they'll get that many people showing up) then it works for me.<br />
<br />
I'm so excited. I think my favourite song of theirs is "Head Over Heels". It was a cute video too. I'm glad they're still performing together, because wasn't there only one of them still under that band name after a while?Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-40468889481545475412010-05-12T14:19:00.000-04:002010-05-12T14:19:41.210-04:00And then there were three. :0(Today we "lost" another lady from our department. Well, apparently we lost four people today in total, but I don't know who the other three are. I say "lost" in quotation marks because really she has another two weeks to go, but they told her about it today. How crap must she feel to have to stick around and be pitied and patronized for another two weeks? If it were me, I'd want the eff out of there pronto. <br />
<br />
And really, how much work is she going to feel like doing? She already went home early because her heart wasn't in it. I don't blame her. She's been here 30+ years, and is probably one of the hardest-working people I know, but the way this place is going, that doesn't matter much. It's all about saving money, just like everywhere else.<br />
<br />
I don't think I feel all that bad for her though. As bad as that sounds, hear me out. It's a tough job she had. I don't think she got much rest, and there were quite a few days where she would go without lunch. She had to do a lot of work helping out the lady I used to be the assistant for before we had our big Division Shuffle a couple of years ago, and that wasn't her job. On top of that she had to start tracking for the other half of her division that she never had to deal with before. She had a long commute, got here early and left late a lot. I really think she deserves this rest. It's like that with everyone else who leaves this place. When they come back for a visit, they're practically glowing. I hope it's the same for her.<br />
<br />
I wish her luck, and pray that they lay off the laying off for a while.Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-88297361709434707012010-04-22T16:14:00.001-04:002010-04-22T16:14:13.967-04:00OMG WHITE HAIR ALERT or The Loss of Intactness (Intactnicity?)I was, well, let's just say I was fixing my hair recently, and I came upon three or four hairs that shone a little differently than the rest. Upon closer inspection, I could see that they were white! <br />
<br />
I wasn't really surprised that they were there at my age, since I'm almost 28, and I know quite a few people my age that are already greying and/or balding. In fact, when I found them, I updated my Facebook status to express my chagrin, and one of the guys I went to school with responded that he was already getting white hairs in his beard. He also expressed hope that I didn't have <em>that</em> problem. I quickly told him that being Italian (like him), I will have that problem eventually. We <em>all</em> have that problem. I have been dying to use that joke for a long time.<br />
<br />
To be honest, I don't really know why I was surprised. Perhaps surprise wasn't even what I felt. I think it was the universal dismay at getting old. <br />
<br />
We all know what happens when we get old. Things start to hurt, fall off or fall out, change colours, and just plain stop working like they used to. We have to start taking all kinds of medicines to keep some semblance of normalcy in our bodily operations. This frightens me, and I'll tell you why.<br />
<br />
If something is missing or broken, I don't want it anymore. I remember losing pieces or accessories from toys I had and never wanting to play with them again. Things weren't the same anymore. Barbie NEEDS the shoes that went with that dress! If they're missing, why would I even let her wear that dress anymore?? It's not the same!<br />
<br />
I think it would be the same with my body. Once things start to go worse than they already are, I don't know how I'll live with myself. I will admit to seriously courting the option of throwing myself off a cliff once I hit a certain age, or not treat myself if I get some horrible potentially life-threatening illness, because I don't know how I will be able to handle it. <br />
<br />
I'm still young for now and have lots of time to worry about it, and aging kind of comes gradually, so I know that I'll feel differently when I get older, and taking care of myself as best as I can now will make the transition into my autumn and winter years much easier. Still, it's daunting and sad watching people getting old and knowing that it will happen to me eventually.Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-58416172125683969372010-04-07T16:18:00.001-04:002010-04-07T16:19:29.227-04:00Bring this back, please!I really long for the days where people would dress up just to leave their house, no matter where they were going. I enjoy looking at <a href="http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/">People of Walmart</a> because it makes me laugh, but I also cry a little inside when I see what some people decide is acceptable excursion attire.<br />
<br />
While blog-browsing, I came upon one called <a href="http://oldhollywoodglamour.blogspot.com/">Old Hollywood Glamour</a>, which is all about a great love of mine, classic movies and their stars. Going through it, I spotted these in a post about a John Galliano fashion show and instantly fell in love:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-34n_njYnwANXR2W4azpRx4mkhcCdqqbTLdZaVx4JQj-uGJMn2wwCk3otJ66k97fbOkc2vGxlxoJvE7GDHIcVkfC555RB2alVGb0TPVvRGV_TIeJpaM-E2uVTolfyBp2IGA8D6xAWxyT/s1600/Cape.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-34n_njYnwANXR2W4azpRx4mkhcCdqqbTLdZaVx4JQj-uGJMn2wwCk3otJ66k97fbOkc2vGxlxoJvE7GDHIcVkfC555RB2alVGb0TPVvRGV_TIeJpaM-E2uVTolfyBp2IGA8D6xAWxyT/s320/Cape.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiraTsaY55ZiQW4v-T-ndjkJNmG3wysUWXXpRXJTXrbwznULX6zSwsd51_eukmw2fc5ZUE2iXKPHIBXWQad74eK_1Mck-0cnzLBJuDn-UVcNB03r-KsJFmd2AbBrWig83s896aZFj6vgD3w/s1600/Snazzy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiraTsaY55ZiQW4v-T-ndjkJNmG3wysUWXXpRXJTXrbwznULX6zSwsd51_eukmw2fc5ZUE2iXKPHIBXWQad74eK_1Mck-0cnzLBJuDn-UVcNB03r-KsJFmd2AbBrWig83s896aZFj6vgD3w/s320/Snazzy.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Here's the post they came from:</div><a href="http://oldhollywoodglamour.blogspot.com/2010/01/john-galliano-mens-fw-2010.html">Old Hollywood Glamour - John Galliano Men's 2010 Paris F/W Fashion Show</a><br />
<br />
While I TOTALLY do not agree with the corsets or the weird hair, I really do love a nice suit on a man. Why can't we do this anymore?Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-30686203348984234832010-04-05T12:33:00.002-04:002010-04-05T12:33:27.778-04:00Passing ThoughtIf it's a crime to steal someone's stuff, then I think it should also be a crime to steal someone's thunder.Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496828064012391622.post-32710682937255022572010-04-05T09:56:00.000-04:002010-04-05T09:56:05.744-04:00Look What I BoughtMuch to the chagrin of my mother, who saw the box by the door when we came home from work, my latest LEGO Shop purchase arrived Thursday afternoon.<br />
<br />
I know I was saying that I wanted to make a set for my AYBS minifigs, but when I saw that this puppy was out, I HAD to get it instead.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-yUz3tEwg1XA8ZM6p-z5ma1SwojDUJkImPXJZYoLsshrov3U8bE_3mDmal7DW1cx_E3U8atlZQIK8TN81-QVsikDLM_pHjYa51SnQKq7Q29LXf8wUaVDHToOXNYFK6zb6W0zFZDA4kLNt/s1600/10211-Grand-Emporium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-yUz3tEwg1XA8ZM6p-z5ma1SwojDUJkImPXJZYoLsshrov3U8bE_3mDmal7DW1cx_E3U8atlZQIK8TN81-QVsikDLM_pHjYa51SnQKq7Q29LXf8wUaVDHToOXNYFK6zb6W0zFZDA4kLNt/s320/10211-Grand-Emporium.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>I started working on it at 8:00 pm, and didn't finish until about 3:45 am (Oh yeah, I'm hardcore. Once I start, I can't stop until the build is done).<br />
<br />
The bottom floor is the clothing department, and it has a perfume counter, a change room, a cash register, and some mannequins in the window. There are two escalators, one leading to the second floor (Housewares, with goblets and plates) and the other to the third (the Toy Department, with a scooter and a toy house). <br />
<br />
I'm thinking of leaving the ground floor as-is, but maybe adding some more clothing. The second floor I have already turned into the staff "canteen", since I had already started getting the parts together for that. I want to turn the third floor into Mr. Rumbold's and Mr. Grace's office, but since I don't have the desks yet, it's still a combination of Toys and Housewares. I DID, however, make a Mr. Grace minifig, and one of Mr. Rumbold's later secretaries, Miss Belfridge. <br />
<br />
I'll post pictures on my Flikr when I'm done, but it may be a while, because there will be a lot of more important things I will need my money for coming up. <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01366590429410240046noreply@blogger.com1