Je ne suis pas un coc...

Is this what the mean by a double-ended coc?

Since I'm on my way to Quebec City proper in a couple of days I thought I'd bone up on my French. Above is almost the extent of it, despite my years of high school French. Je ne suis pas un coc. I am not a rooster or a penis, and praise be to Darwin for that.

I'm off to see Marjo and Sandy get married in Sainte-Foy, Quebec and I'm uber-excited, not only because I will see the two best people in the world walk down the aisle but because I will get to visit an extended family, a family who gets me when I carry around an alarm clock and wear my red pom pom winter hat proclaiming for all to hear "Je ne suis pas un coc." And they will laugh at my French and call me cute because at least I tried to speak their language.

Do you need a background on the coc thing? Really? Isn't it enough that I'm not a penis? I can sometimes be a dick and will freely admit this, especially when it's said in jest but call me a dick in all seriousness and I would be all distress and wide eyes. Me? A dick? Okay, well sometimes. But I am never a rooster.

And because I am not a rooster, I will share with you my coc story. It was more than a few years ago (more than I care to admit). I'd just bought my house when Marjo asked me if her sister's boyfriend - her now-brother-in-law - could stay with me over the summer to follow in her footsteps and immerse himself into the English world. Enter Francis, the instigator of many water fights and hands-down the best summer roommate/boarder/friend ever. He's my little French brother and while I don't see him very often, his smile, laugh and joie de vivre pops into my consciousness and I smile.

Again, more than a few years ago, Francis came for a visit and I trekked in the cold, apres-Christmas snow to Oakville to see our Francis. And I wore my hat. Sandy opened the door and started to laugh. I didn't know why until he brought out the alarm clock, set the alarm for a minute after my arrival and then started crowing... you guessed it... like a rooster. With my limited French and a reach back to my first French class and I whined, "Je ne suis pas un coc." It sounded as dirty then as it does now. Francis turned red, fell on the floor and I thought he'd pass out. "Of all the French we spoke, that is what you remember?" he exclaimed.

I was under pressure, wearing a rooster hat and laughing over an alarm clock, so yes, Francis, that is the best I could come up with. You're welcome.

I am not a rooster, nor an alarm clock and definitely not a penis. But, I can be a dick sometimes.

Biting the bullet

I just posted today that I am a little trepidatious in following new blogs since so many of my recent favourites have gone on hiatus or disappeared altogether. Not one to shy away from a challenge or give into my fears I set out tonight to find some new gems in the blogosphere. Thanks to Serial Comma, I found two and discovered a new post in the process.

xl-entropy challenged me to answer some questions and perhaps put myself more out there in the process. So here goes:

1. Coke or Pepsi?

Seriously, I can make a decision on this one but bear with me as I explain. I prefer Coke over Pepsi but will sell my first born for a can of Diet Pepsi. Diet Coke - not so much.


2. Do you play a musical instrument?

Does a skin flute count? One time at band camp... yes, I was a band geek for my entire high school career and yes, I did play the flute. I also took up the french horn, the saxamaphone (for a summer) and guitar. I can still pick out a few things on the guitar but I haven't picked up any of the other instruments in years so I'm not sure if I can make the grade.

3. If you could go back in time, would you make a different decision in your life?

There are tons of things that I would do differently.  The top one extends to so many aspects of my life - not to be ruled by fear, the fear of failure and the fear of the unknown. I think all other decisions, no matter what they are, would benefit greatly from that.

4. Which sport do you consider to be "football?"

Canadian football, of course. Pigskins, downs, quarterbacks in their cute, little tight pants and huddles so I can peruse the wares. Growing up in a Scottish household, you would think my answer would be soccer. It's the one area that I don't follow the U.K. rules.

5. Do you like to travel?

Yes, I do, I have and I would like to travel more. Where have I been? Across Canada, to Canada's winter destination (Florida, but for the beaches and not for the early bird dinners and golfing), Mexico (three times), Dominican Republic, Scotland, Amsterdam, England and Wales. My next trip: I have no flippin' clue and no flippin' funds, but I am going to Quebec City for a wedding. My dream vacation: anywhere but here.

6. Do you like Piña Coladas and getting caught in the rain?

Pina Coladas, no. Getting caught in the rain, definitely. There's something liberating about dancing amidst the raindrops, catching the drops on your tongue and just being free. I do the same thing in a snow storm.

7. Surely you like cats, right?

I do like cats. I've had two, but right now, I must say nothing beats a dog's devotion and loyalty.

8. Beatles or Stones?

Beatles. The Stones should just give it up and retire 'cause this biatch ain't getting any satisfaction from them.

9. Which foreign languages can you speak (regardless of fluency)?

French, very badly (I read French better than I can speak it), Italian (all the swear words and all numbers) and Spanish (see Italian).

10. What special meal would you prepare for me?
 
Blue Cheese Hamburgers, Sweet Potato Fries, Mango Salsa and Bananas Foster. I rock at those.
 
Now it's your turn. Same questions. Go.

Do I smell or something?

Is it something I’ve said or done? I have to wonder because, since starting this whole blog thing and discovering the many great personalities behind the blogs, over half of the blogs I follow have bit the dust.


Sure, some give updates every few months but when you’re conditioned nay have a downright need to connect on a co-dependant basis, it’s heartbreaking to say a goodbye, especially when you’re not ready to sever the relationship.

I have an aversion now not to become attached because life has taught me these people, these words and these ideas will disappear in about three months’ time. Some last a little longer but when blogs hit the 2-year mark they combust and I for one will not be a part of that.

It’s like a long friendship that has seen smoother roads. With some there is an explosion (or implosion), a single catastrophic event that sends everyone reeling and kneeling in their respective corners. For others it’s a slow fizzle, a dying of the light that once was a friendship.

All of them say “it’s not you, it’s me” and I tended to believe them. But, after the 10th blog list to disappear from my feed, it’s got me wondering if I did indeed do something to offend.

The latest to hit the chopping block took me aback. There was no real indication of an impending exit. The blog posts were consistent or as consistent as most of us make it. So when “Reasons to be Happy you don’t have Kids” announced its intent to close up shop, I was at first amazed and then a little frustrated.

There are a lot of good blogs out there. Most I’ve found through referral – a link on another blog. If my favourite bloggers read them, so shall I. But, I had established a relationship with these now-defunct blogs. Again, it’s like saying goodbye to a friend, no matter how long the friendship lasted. Often, it’s like a missing appendage. Will there be phantom pains whenever I hit my favourites tab?

And, how long will it be until I hit the reset button on this blogging thing? I’ll admit that I’m not as good as posting this summer since it is the summer and my brain is on somewhat of a hiatus. I’ve felt it too – the declining comments, the stagnant followers list. Perhaps people hit the hold or the release button because they feel they’ve ran out of things to talk about, or what about if those things are no longer interesting to them or their followers?

I hope I’m not defunct yet. I don’t feel it. I may sometimes stretch for a topic and not every post is prophetic. My last post is a case in point. When in doubt, post a picture of the dog.

So how do you keep it fresh? What inspires you? And how do you stop from hitting the release button?

I will await your answers. Until then, I must strap on my black arm band and mourn another fallen blog.

A welcome distraction

I'm sitting here trying to think of something prophetic to write. I've had several attempts and nothing. But then I looked up and saw this and thought why not...

Isn't he intense? Kao often will come up and stare at you, willing you to put into words what he's thinking.

Hot Pug in the City

Get your pugs, get your hot pugs here...

Okay, so the guy at the dog park wasn't yelling it out but we were offered a pug. And, I'm actually thinking about it. Considering another boxer in the house would be too many boxers and not enough house, a pug might be the ideal answer. It's cute and it doesn't take up a lot of real estate. Did I mention that pugs are cute?

So, The Man and I are considering going to see them. Yes, yes we are. I can't guarantee we WON'T walk out with one.

I should qualify that the pugs are not hot. They are legit and come from the pairing of a black and a fawn pug. I'm not sure if they're free but it sure seems like it, since the pug guy has 8 pugs and a small house. Hot pugs in the city, indeed.

Now to think of a name...

Dooode!

I’ve been thinking of upgrading my car for a little while, now I’m starting to have a one-on-one friendship with my mechanic and my car seems to love it there a little too much.


So, I took to the internetz to figure out the best ride for my buck. I think I found it, if this one guy’s review of it stands true.

Introducing… the Hyundai Veracruz Limited 4dr SUV (3.8L 6cyl 6A). This is what Dude in Hawaii says about it. I call him Dude because I don’t know his name but also because I would call every guy in Hawaii “Dude” with different connotations for each scenario.

“DOOODE! You just cut me off! No I won’t hang ten. I’d like to hang your testicles from the rearview mirror of my new Hyundai Vera Cruz.”

“Dooode, you rock.”

“Look at the pecs on that dude.”

But I digress.

Like I said, I’d been keeping an eye out for a potential replacement car for a while. The Toyota Matrix, another Hyundai Accent or did I want to go bigger now that I’m carrying precious cargo (Boyo the Boxer, of course). The review that cinched the Hyundai Vera Cruz for me:

Review:
Handles really good but a bit lag when @ green light, helps save gas i guess. Got it @ 110 miles, My wife and I first new car, course i favor it more because she liked it and the safety for our kids, I'm pretty tall so i wish seats go back further for leg room. Matt came with the SUV. Heated seat not needed in Hawaii but the a/c is very cold so we might as well use it. lol. Factory speakers inadequate so i upgraded.

Smooth ride, sunroof, breaking, looks good in the sun, looks good at night, handles great on turns, still smells like a new car, love the safety seats for kids, love the 3rd row, you can plug ipods, tv, etc in the front, middle and rear of the suv, i still think it's a chick's car, but i love it.

It better be a chick’s car if Matt comes with it! And, Dude, can you give Matt my phone number? Thanks.

Earthworm Jim and Nick the Nicker

I’m vying for medal status with two posts in one day but since I’ve been so lax over the last couple of months I thought I’d kill two birds while getting stoned (if anyone can reference where that saying comes from, there’s a dope trailer filled with kitties waiting for you).


I would say that was writer’s block. It would be correct but since it extended to all aspects of life I would say it was a full-on, full body and mind block. Now, my mind is racing with a million ideas but I’ll save you and only tell you one today. I’ve had it in my head to write a book based on a few characters I met while on holiday in England. These names are not made up but I could hardly pass up claiming them for a character in one of my soon-to-be-unveiled (and written) stories.

I’ll be honest in that I have not written a real-life book. I worked as editor on an amazing book written by an amazing friend and I always marveled at how inspired she was and the twists and turns her wicked, wicked mind would take. I won’t dare mention the romance novel I wrote at 15, which were full of throbbing manhoods. Yes, I even used the term more than once in the pages of my naïve freshman, never-to-see-the-light-of-day novel.

So what would possess me now? Well, my imagination is just as fresh as it was when I was chasing dancing penises around in my wild, pre-pubescent dreams. And, it’s something I’ve always wanted to do but was nervous to try. But more importantly, how could I pass up a story that involves such characters as Earthworm Jim and Nick the Nicker.

People, I did not create these names. They were created long before I came into contact with these individuals. Earthworm Jim looked like his name. With a smattering of dust and a layer of dirt and a large, bulbous nose, so when I did my usual “Cheers Big Ears, Same Goes Big Nose” toast over a pint of Cheddar Valley cider I had to stifle a laugh as he turned to me and said with a grin: “Are you making fun of my nose?” I did feel contrite as I actually had not noticed it but then couldn’t hold back my laughter as I looked over his veiny, round and red nose. He looked like he’d been thrown into a vat of tomato juice, which he’d snorted up until it was all gone. Either that, or he hadn’t met a brick of cocaine he didn’t like.

The next night I met Nick the Nicker, who got his name from nicking copper wiring from job sites. He was a little rough around the edges, like life had dragged him around by the fingernails for a few dozen years. But, under the gruff mannerisms and the fact that he took cider intravenously, he was a kind man who would have your back at every turn.

Now I need a brainstorming session to figure out the plot, the lesson learned (since it is going to be a children’s book) and the situations in which they find themselves.