Diary of a Torontonian PoMoFo

Monday, Dec. 15, 2003 - 12:38 PM

Took today off due to probably tonsillitis. My throat sucks.

Bird is amazingly more cheerful these days (although currently standing in his seed dish), and is rather more chirpy and less homicidal than usual. I attribute this to lack of outside birds. Now my dad can pet him too (inasmuch as anyone can), and he'll actually tweet even if we're around. Hooray!

Got most of my Xmas shopping done yesterday. Got my mom one of those sort of pompom-strung-together scarves cuz she really wanted one (ironically, I remarked to the sales girl at Bay that it looked like a dead rabbit, and lo! I get home, and find the label- 100% angora.) Also got her a 1-cup coffee maker for the office and an automatic can opener that "walks" around the can lid, hands-free, and shuts itself off automatically. (She's got pretty bad arthritis in her hands and can't use the regular can-opener.) Also getting her either the Michael Buble CD or the Josh Groban CD. My dad is getting, at his own request, a wireless-laser-pointer-clicky-mouse-thing, so he can walk around during PowerPoint presentations (on his new laptop) and change the slide from his pocket, an idea which he seems overjoyed with. Also the Joss Stone CD. R already has his computer and spiffy new case, but may get a couple of other things, if Santa's feeling generous. So all in all, I'm going to be spending something like $800 this Xmas season, and it makes it a lot easier to handle if I don't think about that. Damn credit card.

Off to the doc's to get me some painkillers!

9:47pm

It's apparently either strep or sinus drip, doc wasn't sure which, but I'm loaded up on antibiotics and mouth washes, so back to work tomorrow I go (hi-ho, hi-ho!)

I LOVE Kevin Smith - Funniest thing I've read today:

'You'll have to excuse the delay in what was planned to be a weekly column (like my desire to ever weigh under two hundred, it was a pipe dream, at best). Trying to juggle too many balls will do that to you. Trying to juggle said balls while they're still attached to random tranny hookers you picked up on Santa Monica in the back seat of your family truckster behind the dumpster of a Carl's Jr. is also not suggested, lest you be accused of "going Hollywood" and "selling out." But, oh ... that sweet forbidden tranny fruit...'

Readin' nothing, all done
Listenin' to Bird chirping
Thinkin' about getting dressed, my damn throat, snow. DAMN SNOW!

Back - Forth

This is a Diaryland project. Background image by Digital Hooligan (mah man!) If you try to steal bits of it, I'll come to your house and eat your goldfish. So don't.