Well, today there were many hostile drivers. I was crossing a street at one point, not even, as I'd just stepped out of my car (who survived Mark quite nicely) and had not started to walk at all, when this big, loud, white van blared his horn at me. As if I hadn't seen him, or even before, heard him and his unsound muffler, but he didn't even slow down. For the love of all things, he must have been barreling down the street at 60km/h. Does the term 'residential' not mean anything to people? "Was that a kid we just hit back there?" "I dunno, we're going to fast to tell."

I dropped in on Justin at the Blockfuckster to see if he still worked there, and yes, he does. It seems he has been doing work in Montreal, too, with his old boss, which is why he hasn't called me back. I invited him out Monday night, but he's going back to Montreal that day for another two weeks or so. Anyway, I also ran into Megan walking home from the store she works in and drove her home. We crammed as much information as was possible into a ten minute conversation, but we'll see each other over March Break when she's got some time off. It was very nice to walk around in the 'old neighbourhood' today, though, I must say I will have a good time exploring the new area. The weather was just dandy, making for beautiful strolling, and I couldn't help feeling a bit nostalgic about everything.

Last night I was at Derek's house and we ordered Thai food from the Internet. Imagine that ! We're living in the future ! Keen. Anyway, we played some silly video games, including one where you play with controlers that are in the form of electric guitars... quite strange. We watched the final episode of "Read or Die" a very good three part anime, and the stand-alone "Blood: the Last Vampire" which was made by the same people who gave the world Ghost in the Shell. Derek was fairly impressed when I suddenly blurted out, "Ghost in the Shell !" because I'd suddenly been struck by the amazing similarities in style. The stand out of the night, however; was the Japanese film we watched called, Battle Royale. Oh my God.

This was perhaps the most ULTRA VIOLENT film I have EVER seen. Honestly. It's brutal. It's emotionally horrifying, driving the audience to highs and lows that scream manipulation. I found myself laughing and smiling one moment, then open-mouth-shocked, then whispering, "Holy shit, oh my God," and then with tears running down my cheeks. I cried through probably a third of the entire movie, partially from the shock of it, partially from the touching displays of humanity, sometimes because of the beautiful symbolism, and sometimes because of the cruelty of the situation. The part of it that made it the most awful was the fact that the people forced into killing each other were kids - fourteen year olds. It was so good, though horrible and terrifying, that I sort of want to make all my friends, whom I think can stomach it, watch it with me; only I don't want to see it too often, so I have to get everyone together in one go.

I had nightmares last night. I actually cried out in my sleep waking myself up. The last time a movie caused that to happen, I was probably about 12 years old. It was so intense, yet, so amazing. The horror of the violence, the controversy and disturbing humour was akin to what I felt the first time I watched A Clockwork Orange. Only worse. Amazing.

Blink 182 again for me. I wonder if I'm ill, but lately, this juvenile punkpop has been making me bounce. I like to harmonise to it, mostly because it IS punkpop and pretty harmonic girly voices accompanying it is sort of silly. You know?

We had a group meeting with The Evil One today. Group meetings go more smoothly than pairs or solo ventures. He could at least -pretend- to listen to suggestions given by us, though. Geesh. He completely dismissed my knowledge of how the desk opperates, despite my having worked down on the floor for two years. Anyway, what do I know? I'm just a dumb girl.

Mark, Nicole's boyfriend/fiance guy is renting my car from me today. I'm totally paranoid that he's going to crash. I'm stupid, I know. He has a clean driving record and he'll be responsible. But I can't help it. I'm paranoid by nature, or something. I don't share well. He's moving house today, and renting vehicles is bloody expensive, as I would know, so it was hard to say no. It meant that Rick and I had to unload my fancy shelf/drawer sideboard thinger out of Scarlette last night, which after a long day at the store was something I didn't really want to be doing, but Rick was a help. And cornering is much smoother without the whole beast shuckling around in the trunk.

Derek had his birthday on the 27th, so to celebrate, I'm going to his place to watch anime and play video games. Hoowee ! too bad I forgot his card at the appartment.

Being in my mother's house when my mother isn't in it is sort of depressing. When I'm in my place, it's normal to be without Mom, but when I'm here, it's really not. I'm certainly not alone, of course, there are three boisterous cats - no, two boisterous cats and one lethargic ball of fluff - to keep me company, not that they do a good job of that when they're all sleeping in rooms where I'm not. Willi IS pleased to have me home, though, so much so, that this morning she woke me for food and then immediately curled up again in bed with me. I miss my Stinky Bee.

Yesterday, I saw Dr. Tovich, a strangely named man of Chinese extraction, who is remarkably pleasant. He is a neurologist of some note, and he has never treated me as a research possibility, a child, or a pest. He takes his time and asks a lot of questions, expecting his patients to ask many in return. Without resorting to catch phrases like 'it's just your migraine pattern maturing' he told me that there is little that can be done, other than pain management, and that my course of treatment is very good. This does not mean he dismissed the seriousness of the condition at all and, in fact, he's sending me up for a CAT scan.

Today, as I said, I slept late with a cat curled up with me, and then I spent a lazy few hours in my nightgown and robe watching, if you can believe this, Can't Hardly Wait, a teen movie that came out some time in the last couple of years. Amazingly, I got completely engrossed in it and even found myself completely filled with satisfaction by it's end. Bizarre. Then I decided it would be a very good idea to get some laundry done and put some decent clothing on.

I hopped in Scarlette and drove up to Portage Place to get some things done - including part of my gift to Rick for our 2nd anniversary. I was NOT pleased to hear that it won't be ready in time, but since I can't afford to pay for a rush order, I had nothing to do but accept that he'll have to wait for the final bit of his present. Oh well, there's nothing to be done but wait.

Upon coming home, I sat down at the kitchen table and finished Maya, a book by Jostein Gaardner, which Nick had bought for me. This was the same book that he read over the course of one night when he crashed at my house. What can I say about it? Um, it was philosophical, to the last, and confusing. Just when I thought I'd gotten it, a moment in which to shout out, "Eureka !", I realised that, in fact, I didn't get it. I -think- I liked it. I -think- I even agreed with much of it, but I don't know what I was supposed to get from it. I guess that's the thing about philosophy; all that thinking.

Chances are, if you breathe and can hear, you are aware that Canada won a gold medal in men's Olympic hockey for the first time in 50 years. In fact, fifty years to the day, if I am correct. You would also know that we didn't just beat the USA, we beat them into the ground. 3-2 was a lead, then 4-2 was an insurrance policy, but 5-2 was just overkill - not that I mind, of course. I had the game playing on the stereo at work, which, with the exception of one schmuck who didn't want to hear the game, went over quite well with the customers. There was a lot of healthy patriotism in the air. The celebrations began almost immediately after the victory.

The same celebrations that terrified a stray cat so much that it ran through traffic to seek shelter in the store's foyer. Worried about it, since a couple people thought it might have been hit by a car, we allowed it into the store where it immediately slunk into the corner behind the tarot table and chairs. It was a sweet black and white cat, that originally we thought was quite young. A woman from the street, a customer in Heretic (who'd bought that fabulous corset that I wanted), myself and Leala (?) from Siren (the compitition next door) worked the street trying to find out if the cat belonged to someone. No luck. Even less luck on the phone with the Humane Society and Animal rescue services. Apparently, they do not pick up cats. The humane society doesn't do it anymore (cut backs anyone?) and the rescue services don't because I suppose strays aren't worth it. Imagine that, it's an ANIMAL RESCUE SERVICE. One of the women involved in this rescue operation joked that we should call the cat a small dog in order for it to be helped.

Anyway, Leala said that she lived just past the Humane Society so she would take the cat there. The cat had not moved from behind the chairs for twenty minutes at this point. We were starting to worry that the little feline was truly injured. Finding a cat-sized box with a lid proved a bit of a challenge, but eventually one was procured and I donned my leather gloves for cat lifting. I didn't want to risk being bitten or scratched by what might actually be a stray cat. I shifted the table and chairs and cooed at the poor creature, then very gently lifted it up and cupped it under the bum, setting it into the box. That was when I realised that it was very likely a little female and she was pregnant. She was VERY wide, and very heavy, far more so than her stature suggested. She was also very sweet and pretty, with beautiful golden amber eyes.

With that over with, though I'm sure there is a continuation of the story yet to come, I awaited Nicole's arrival at the store. This took only moments and there she was. Together we drove up to Home Depot and bought four feet of chicken wire, wallpaper paste (now called adhesive, though paste was pretty clear), and several feet of fine copper wire. It was masque making time ! Arriving at Nicole's parents' house, Mark was nearly finished cooking us dinner. He is a culinary master, I will have you know. He cooked stuffed red pepper with curried something or other and goat cheese, avocado and tomato salad with grated cheese, and asparagus in hollandaise sauce that he whipped up on the spot. It was one of the most amazing meals I've ever eaten. I thanked him profusely. Nicole confessed to me when he and his daughter had left that she had only imagined he'd do pasta and sauce.

She and I got very busy working on my masque, as it quickly became obvious that my plans were trickier than we'd thought. I sketched something out which she then turned into something a good deal more useable, and then we started tracing patterns onto the chicken wire for cutting out. I developed blisters on my fingers from the wire and pliers, but it was not only enjoyable, but completely worthwhile. By midnight, we'd created the frame over which the papier machee would be applied. It consists of a nose piece with lovely flared dragon nostrils, cheekpieces to which are attached cheek fins, a skullcap onto which have been placed two lovely large horns, and then the whole thing was wired together with the copper. We did all this while watching some amazingly odd cartoons on Teletoon. When I put on the helmet, it became an awesome helmet, of the sort found in "Excalibur". Fantastic. It was very late at this point, so I helped Nicole do the dishes and she said she would put the little dorsal horns on the top of the masque. We also rummaged through fabric because she's going to make me a shirt. I know, bad Maya, but whatever, I'm going to get it pretty much at cost, anyway, so nyah.

Today I worked very hard at the ROM and was pleased to note that I was there a full twenty minutes before my boss. Jerk. Then I left because my head was going to explode. Happily, tomorrow, I'm going to see a neurologist, so I will push for a brain scan. I'm feeling much better now, which is good, since I have to drive back to the Petes. I'll leave it at that and say toodles.