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Wednesday, January 5, 2005

The Dream (14:47 AST, The ShanMonster)

The country has been taken over by a group of people bent on putting the populace on mood-controlling drugs, including Prozac. Although most people are fine with the promises of all the drugs they can stand, a few pockets of resistance exist. I'm one of the insugents, and I've taken to the woods. I'm trying to gather up as many people as I can to fight, but I'm outnumbered, and every time I go to a home, I find everyone has already been drugged and wants to turn me in.

Finally, I'm running through an autumn forest as fast as I can. Behind me is the rumble of jeeps filled with military personnel. I only know of one more person I can join up with, but when I get to the home, I see soldiers taking him prisoner. One of them sees me and gives chase. I run through the forest, but get cornered. A huge man strides toward me. He's the heavy, and he's going to take me down one way or another. The men behind him hold buckets full of pacifying medication. I pull my buck knife from my purse and open it. "Go on, stab me," says the man, but I know it's useless. Why would I stab him when all the others would get me? I hold the knife in front of me, threateningly, and try to back away, but there's nowhere to go. The man steps closer, and fakes a movement toward me. I can tell he's actually trying to get me to stab him. He's trying to kill himself through me without making it obvious to his supervisors.

Escape is impossible. I wish I could fake my own death, but know the soldiers shoot corpses to ensure they're really dead. I consider slashing my own throat for real, and then I wake up.

A Recap of 2004 (13:29 AST, The ShanMonster)

What I did in 2004 that I'd never done before:
500 dragons in one session, more than one chin-up in a single session, full splits (left leg leading), weaned myself off propranalol, designed and created a line of jewellery, taught a children's dance class, made a hollowform bracelet, kung fu/raqs sharqi fusion performance art with sabre, took a religious studies class, studied Ashtanga yoga, tidied up the apartment all in one go, and I'm sure there are more things, but they've slipped my mind for the moment.

New Years' resolutions:
I once made a New Year's resolution to make no resolution that year. That's the only one I ever made, and in making it, I broke it. And for this year, although it's not exactly a resolution per se, I would like to keep better track of what books I read.

What I would like to have in 2005 that I lacked in 2004:
No outstanding debts. I'd like to pay everything off this year with my new job.

My biggest achievement of the year:
I have no idea.

My biggest failure:
I am still not a kung fu master.

Illness or injuries:
When don't I have any? Sigh....

The best thing I bought:
Tasty food.

Behaviour making me appalled and depressed:
My father-in-law's, but he apologized, so I guess it's ok.

Where most of my money went:
Rent, food, utilities. How very exciting.

What I got really, really, really excited about:
Realizing that as I came off the propranalol, I was recovering my energy levels.

The song which will always remind me of 2004:
Title Reconstruction by Danny Elfman. It's the song I danced to at the Morocco/Tarik workshop, and I listened to it all summer.

Compared to this time last year, I am:
i. Happier. The propranolol was making me slip back into depression, but now that I'm off it, I'm back to normal.
ii. Thinner. The propranolol was making it difficult for me to exercise, and my muscle was turning to fat. I weigh less now, but my muscle mass is greater.
iii. Poorer. I had student loan money last year. This year, I'm starting with pretty much zero money, but got myself a decently-paying job, so I expect to have more money within the month.

I'd like to have done more
Writing. Reading. Martial arts drilling.

I'd like to have done less
Waiting for other people. Stressing over money. Procrastinating.

The best book I read:
Many, but they get muddled in my mind as to what year I read them in. But here, in no particular order, are a few:

My greatest musical discovery:
Sigur Ros. It's beautiful stuff. I also rediscovered the music of Marilyn Monroe, Eartha Kitt, and Mario Lanza.

What I wanted and got:
To be able to do chin-ups.

My favorite film of 2004:
Again, I have more than one:

What I did on my birthday, and how old I was:
I turned 33, and had a party at my place complete with dancing, and Twister with fellow dancers/martial artists. Shawn beat me.

The one thing which would have made my year immeasurably more satisfying:
Not having to worry about health problems (my own or my loved ones').

My personal fashion concept in 2004:
Ugly jock. My clothes were all easy to move around in, and ugly because I didn't want to ruin them with torches or metal-working chemicals.

I was kept sane by:
Realizing that I didn't have to have to work myself to death in the metal studio.

The celebrity/public figure I fancied the most:
Celebrity crushes, hmm? Well, I have soft spots for Jet Li, Neil Gaiman, Rachel Brice, Jackie Chan, Benno Fürmann, Christian Bale, Alan Rickman, and Flashman, despite his fictional status.

I missed
Guylaine, Kimby, Marquis, my horses, and my grandfather.

A valuable life lesson I learned in 2004:
Work hard, but not so hard that it endangers your health/sanity.

The Great White Ape (11:35 AST, The ShanMonster)

When I was a kid, I wanted to be Tarzan when I grew up. Fascinated by his well-developed sense of smell, I would practice smelling myself so that I could recognize my own scent.

In retrospect, it would have made an awful lot more sense to have practiced smelling anything or anyone else, but I guess I wanted to go with what was readily available.

Another of the aspects of Tarzan which intrigued me was his ability to swing through the trees and traverse supposedly insurmountable physical obstacles. I used to practice running along branches high in the air, leaping out of trees and off cliffs, tumbling, flipping, and standing on top of cantering ponies. I was getting pretty good, and my injuries were frequent but minor. With that in mind, several years ago, I learned about Parkour. Yet somehow, parkour slipped my mind until now. The idea is back again, and I want to do it, to recapture the sense of freedom I felt as a crazy tomboy.

I suspect I may be a bit too old to learn some of the more gymnastic tricks, and I wish I could rewind time so I could recommence my childhood training. I also think I'm more more breakable now than I was as a kid. The huge red bruise on my shin from kung fu last night attests to that. My leg throbs like a second heart, especially when I stand up. The big welt on my elbow, however, doesn't feel any different from the rest of my regularly-coloured arm, so maybe I'd be okay so long as I only use my top half. Hee! That being said, I think my martial arts, weight, and dance training have given me an edge I wouldn't have had, otherwise. Now I just need to find some good footwear, and perhaps wait until all the snow and ice melt.

Who wants to train with me?

Tuesday, January 4, 2005

I'm a Sweat Heart (22:24 AST, The ShanMonster)

Oh jeez, that was rough. I did a few hundred dragons, lots of partnered kicking drills (and have a nice goose egg on my shin from a collision with an elbow), heaps of crunches, and a bunch of gung gee repetitions. It might not sound like much, but I haven't sweat that much in months. I'll probably be walking oddly for the next two days. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to shower. I feel grosser than Courtney Love.

Racialism, Muscles, Literature, and Dance (19:13 AST, The ShanMonster)

I have strange recollections of my dream: I live in Canada, which is divided into three regions: the West (controlled by Red Indians), the East (controlled by Black Africans), and the South (controlled by White Cowpokes). The Whites are gathered together with a a large circle of covered wagons pointing arse-end out. I am wearing a yellow gingham dress and a big Holly Hobby-style bonnet. The menfolk are discussing how we'll never survive--that wave after wave of Blacks and Reds are wiping us out. Oddly enough, the Whites are the native North Americans, and the Blacks and Reds are the European invasion.

I have no idea what inspired the wacky racialist dream. And where did all the Northerners go? Maybe to China or Saudi Arabia. No Yellow or Brown people were represented, after all. And considering I more or less identify myself as Inuit, I'm curious as to why I was such a whitebread honky in my dream. Ah well.

I finally made it to the gym today, and my quads are all aquiver. Kung fu is going to be quite the task. Christmas acts as an alchemist converting muscle into fat, and sweets are the philosopher's stone. Unfortunately, I can't think of any food which acts in the opposite direction, so it's extra gym time for me. I hope I'll be able to fit it into my work schedule. I don't think I'll be able to take yoga classes, and I'm worried my kung fu time is going to shrivel up due to incipient shift work.

I'm going back into retirement from figure modelling again. I modelled this afternoon, and I'll be doing it again on Thursday. After that, the artists will just have to find someone else with which to fill their drawing pads.

I finished reading Daniel Quinn's Ishmael the other night, and as I set the book down, I heard myself say "Hmm." And then I said it again. And again. f00 asked me what I was hmming about, so I told him to read the book. It made my brains whirl around in my head. The book gets especially interesting right around the explication of the Cain and Abel story. Check it out and see what I mean. Thanks for lending it to me, Zed. I'm now working on Kathryn's recommendation, Chuck Palhniuk's Lullaby. So far, so good.

After all the recommendations made to me as per my request a month or so back, I have a lot of books in my to-be-read queue which weren't there before.

Last night, I gave a private dance lesson to Anna and Lickthefrog. I'd actually taught Anna before, maybe four years back. Both dancers have been studying Egyptian dance in Toronto, and I'm impressed by their repertoire of movements. I have a very North American nightclub approach to my dance, and their Saidi style is quite exotic to me. I showed them some floorwork, a glute shimmy, and how to do a faux (ie. safe) Turkish drop. Afterwards, I went to Lickthefrog's place where we danced with her sister (a ballet dancer), her sister's friend, and Keltie. It was fun, but I had stomach cramps and then I forgot three of my CDs there. Doh! I hope I can get them back before she returns to Toronto.

Right now, SuperBrad, f00, Dmitrii, and Linda are playing Starfarers of Catan in the kitchen. I'd play too, but it's a four-player game, so I opted out in favour of relaxation.

It looks like that relaxation is drawing to a close. Kung fu is nigh.

Monday, January 3, 2005

Saving Garfield (15:53 AST, The ShanMonster)

On the way out to Mom's car, I heard a very loud meow. I stopped in my tracks and looked around. I couldn't see a cat anywhere, but the yowling was the sound of a cat in trouble. So I put my purse down and started searching and calling. I finally found the cat underneath the sidewalk/step. In the summertime, a cat can get in and out of there easily. But the snow and ice had filled up all the ways a cat might escape. A woeful orange cat stared up at me from a deep crevice. It was Garfield, the young cat from two houses down the road. "YOWWWWWWLLL!" screeched Garfield before ducking away.

Mom and I looked around to find a way where he could get out, but none was to be found. We called him back to the gap, hoping to grab him and yank him out, but Garfield doesn't like to be picked up and ran back beneath the concrete. So we went over to the garbage hut and found some cardboard. Mom rolled it up into a thick tube, then used my buck knife to carve ladder-like rungs into it. We propped it in the crevice at an angle where he'd be able to scramble up without much difficulty.

We drove off to do our errands. About an hour later we returned. We called and called, and the vocal Garfield didn't answer. I hope it means he already left.

Schedules Don't Work (12:34 AST, The ShanMonster)

My day is already all bunged up. I wanted to get up, go to the gym, and do a bunch of errands. But now I have to wait for my Mom to show up so I can wait for f00 to finish teaching his class so I can go to Mall*Wart and pick up some photos. Blargh.

My apartment is still freakishly clean and tidy, although the chinchilla's butts are doing their best to redecorate the floor. Yesterday, I picked up Princess Tubby and said, "Look! A peppermill!" I pretended to twist her head, knowing that black matter would soon issue from her butt.

I've no recollection of having ever made a New Year's resolution. I'd say I have no plans of ever doing so, but that would break my record.

...

After a few hours hiatus, my errands have been uck-fayed even more. Apparently, most everything is closed today despite it not being a holiday. What's with that? So rent and banking will have to wait. Even the bakery was closed, so I couldn't get bread. Ah well.

I was able to book the studio for my dance classes. They begin this Sunday. Advanced/intermediate class is 1:30-3, and beginners' class is from 3:30-5. It's upstairs from the Victory Meat Market on King St., Fredericton, in the T'ai Chi studio. Classes are $60 for six weeks, or $12/class for drop-ins. I'm also giving a private floorwork class this evening to a couple of out-of-town dancers. I'd better go and vacuum because the class is in my living room.

I may get to the gym yet, but I'm no longer counting on it.

Sunday, January 2, 2005

2005 Marks a Decade of The ShanMonster Page (12:43 AST, The ShanMonster)

Yup. I've been writing for my webpage on a mostly daily basis for ten years now. Yikes.

I've been doing a bit of half-arsed genealogical research and discovered this little snippet from March 17, 1894:

"The Sea Serpent Again". The steamship ("Umfali" ?) Messrs. BULLARD, KING, & Co.'s new steamer, had a strange experience during the voyage out. When the vessel was about 300 miles North of Cape Verde, lat. 23 deg. N., long. ... deg. W., and about half-past .... in the afternoon, the chief officer (Mr. C.A. POWELL) who was in charge of the bridge, espied a strange looking monster swimming through the waves. The object was about 300 yards away from the ship, and presented the appearance of a huge serpent, with slimy skin, and several pairs of short fins, about 20 ft. apart. In circumference it measured about the same dimension as a full-sized whale, and about 80 ft. of its body could be seen above water. Mr. Powell immediately sang out to several of the passengers, who were on the afterdeck at the time, and each had a good look at the monster. Aided by his glasses, the chief officer distinctly saw the serpent's mouth open and shut. The jaw appeared about 7ft. long, and was armed with large teeth, the gums being of a whitish colour. The serpent had the appearance of a huge conger eel, both in shape and colour, the skin underneath being white. A few minutes after it had been sighted, Captain CRINGLE happened to come on the bridge and immediately caught sight of the monster. It was then well on the port quarter and the Captain had the ship's course altered, so as to follow it up. At the same moment the serpent headed directly towards the vessel until quite close up, and then altered its course, and was soon lost in the distance. Owing to the fading light and the uncertainty of being able to overtake the object, Captain CRINGLE abandoned the idea of giving chase. As the serpent turned in the water a further large portion of its length was seen, moving with an undulating motion, and it is computed that the entire length could not have been less than 150 feet. It will doubtless be remembered that a few months ago a creature answering the above description was passed in the very same latitude by a Liverpool ship bound for the West Coast of Africa. -- The Natl Advertiser. (from Twillingate Sun 1894)

I'm mildly excited one of my ancestors saw a sea monster. Wouldn't you be?

In other old news, the Comtesse DeSpair sent me this bit of historical trivia:

Preservation by pickling was occasionally used as an embalming method. During alterations to Danbury church in England in 1779 the village doctor came across the grave of Sir Gerard de Braybroke who died in 1422. The elm coffin and inner lead shell were opened to reveal a tolerably preserved corpse lying in an aromatic fluid which the doctor proclaimed, after tasting, resembled Spanish olives in mushroom ketchup.

Information culled from: Death: A History of Man's Obsessions and Fears by Robert Wilkins

My New Year's party was a success. I figure there were about twenty people here over the course of the evening including martial artists, dancers, geeks, freaks, goths, and combinations thereof. We played three games of Twister, and I am the undefeated champion. Go me! Somewhere out there is photographic evidence of the Kama Sutra-like positions we entangled ourselves in. I think André has them. I'll try to score copies.

We also played Pop Culture Trivial Pursuit in teams of four, and my team came in last, partially due to my own monumental screw-up on a Bill Clinton question. Oops. I learned that Andrew has an astonishing knowledge of pop culture. Cynebeah, you have a rival in your demesne.

People trickled away in the wee hours, but Guylaine, f00, Sophie, Brennan, Siobhan, Justin, and I were still going strong until 6:00 AM. The last few hours were spent doing bizarre combinations of martial arts/yoga/dance/acrobatics in my livingroom. I think there may be photos of that, too.

Can you believe my apartment is neat and tidy? Yes, I cleaned everything. My clothes, books, and craft junk are all put away in a most orderly fashion. Floorspace and counterspace abounds, even in my bedroom (those who know me well can now remove their jaws from the floor). I am a cleaning machine.

Yesterday was much lower key. The bee-killing cramps of doom held me in their grip, and I spent the day wincingly playing Cities and Knights of Catan with SuperBrad, f00, and Bloobert. Afterwards, we watched Firefly.

I feel much more human today, so maybe I'll get to the gym for a much-needed workout. But first, here are a few links to assuage the net addicts:

Briton Surfs Tsunami, Survives: It's like something out of Larry Niven's imagination.

And speaking of that tsunami, The Canadian government, until January 11th, will match any donation to major relief operations working from Canada. I believe this works only for Canadian donors (thanks, William Gibson).

Archaeological Dig Uncovers Ancient Race of Skeleton People: Bwahahaha (thanks, f00)!

Is This Real?: Most decidedly not, I should say. It's also most decidedly not safe for work.

An Apology: To the Girl in the Parking Garage: The accidental stalker says he's sorry.

Mushing Poodles in the Iditarod: Poodles make good sled dogs (I grew up mushing collies, instead).

Scared of Santa: The pictures say it all.

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