The fish whisperer

     One time, when I went on vacation for a few days - I think it was the time we went to Boston. Anyway, I let someone look after our fish while I was gone. When I came back, the fish tank was filled with what looked like porridge, but was actually an entire package of fish food. My fish were practically dead when I dug them out of the muck. Cleo recovered much faster than Chloe, although (to his credit) Cleo had lived through much worse in the almost 15 years that I had him. Chloe required a little bit more attention for her asphyxia. In fact, she floated on her side for 48 hours while I performed fish CPR. Every 15 minutes or so, I would hold her perpendicular and force water through her gills by pushing her through the water back and forth. I contemplated actually performing mouth-to-mouth when things were looking particularly bleak. But, clearly, my oxygen and her oxygen were not compatable. Regardless, she turned out all right and Cleo and Chloe went on to have Petit Gervais, Edward, Lestat, and Louis.
     Every summer for the last 5 years or so, I would put my fish in a makeshift pond in my backyard made from a purple kiddie pool and some local water plants. I would like to think they loved it. They ate mosquito larva and frollicked amid the foliage. However, last year, after I transported my fish from their winter home (a large, barrel-shaped planter) into their summer home, I woke up on each of five days to one less fish. Whatever it was took the babies first. When I went out to count them all on day one, I assumed one was hiding in the foliage. The second day, when both Petit Gervais and Louis were gone, I knew I had to act. I put a heavy board on top of the pond overnight. This prevented the theft for a couple of nights, then the rogue struck again. The board had been moved and Edward and Lestat were gone. I figured the menace was unable to catch the larger fish, so I left the board off and mourned my minnows. To my horror, the next day, Cleo was missing. That was the end of the fishy summer home. Chloe came back in the house and hasn`t been outside since.
     Until today. I decided Chloe had been imprisoned in her dark, winter home for long enough. It was time to set her free to be with the other carp at Point Peter or to get swallowed by the carp and be with her family. I was meeting Amanda for a quick swim before work, so I scooped Chloe into a big Tupperware container with a lid and set out.
     I parked at one end of the beach and couldn`t find Amanda anywhere. So, I took a walk to the other end. There was a group of women in their usual spot along the bluffs, and a creeper guy sitting in his K car (probably rubbing one out while watching a couple of chubby chicks flounce around in the waves). Still no sign of Amanda. There were alot of people on the flat rock beach further down, but it was going to take more time to walk there than I was willing to waste with only half an hour left before I had to leave for work. I turned back to get my car and was making my way down the dirt road when I had to stop. The creeper fellow had his back to me, legs spread out and one arm behind his back, clearly relieving himself right in the middle of the road. I thought about just walking on like nothing special was happening. Serves the old perv right for pissing in my path. However, this perv was probably exposing his manhood on purpose and would get his jollies by having me walk by. Instead, I waited him out. He was either pissing out an entire case of beer or he was specifically waiting for someone to walk by while his pecker was hanging out. I`m glad I decided to wait. It was about two minutes before he rearranged himself and started walking back to the car. I walked right past him without a word. Stupid creeper.
     I parked further down the beach without any sign of Amanda`s van and was about to give up. As I walked out onto the flat rocks, I met my friend, Shirley. Now this is weird for a couple of reasons. A) I haven`t seen Shirley in months even though she`s one of my favourite people and B) Shirley is the one who gave Cleo to me all those years ago. Cleo had been a fish she won at the fair by bouncing ping pong balls into fishbowls filled with blue and red water.
     I shared my story with Shirley by the waves and told her my plan to release Chloe back to the wilds. She clearly thought I had wandered away from my group of window lickers. But, she supported my decision and watched as I took my microwave-safe dish out into the lake and plunge it - fish and all - to the bottom. I actually had to tip the bowl so Chloe would get out. She nestled herself deep into a crevice between the limestone rocks and sat there.
     Meanwhile, Amanda came walking up the beach with her girls and we discussed the situation. Chloe hadn`t moved and I was beginning to think I might have to get all Old Yeller on her.You know the part where Travis tries to get Old Yeller to run away by chasing him with a stick or something. I never liked that stupid movie anyway. I did kind of push her out of the seaweed-covered rocks, but she just nestled back in another spot. In the end, I decided I would try to scoop her back up and she would either get back in the bowl or she would swim off and live happily ever after.

Photo by Amanda Whiten

      Well, didn`t that goddamn fish practically jump back in the bowl! I scooped her up and let her sit in the shade with Shirley while I took a quick swim. It`s so beautiful out there. But, Chloe is just as happy in her winter home with her potted water lilies and her bubbler. I am happy with the knowledge that I can at least take her for a swim at the point every once in a while to keep her social.

     It's the end of an era :( The last Harry Potter movie (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows Part 2) came out on Friday. I am, of course, very excited about the movie and very sad that there aren't any more books or movies to anticipate. I have been a "Potter-head" for several years now and even went to Florida just to see Hogwarts (or the closest available replica) at Universal Orlando last October.
     As a Potter-head, I never got the books on the day they were released or watched the movies with all the other regular people. I always had to go at midnight on opening night in full Potter garb so I could get it or see it BEFORE any normal muggle. I usually buy my tickets to the theatre WEEKS in advance and arrive AT LEAST an hour before the movie starts so I can get a good seat. This time, however, I left it to the last minute. I think part of me didn't want to admit the end was near, so I avoided buying tickets. Kind of like when my water broke with my first-born and I wouldn't go to the hospital because I was too terrified to have a baby. I have always been pretty good at lying to myself but, now that I'm older and wiser, I'm starting to catch on to my sneaky self. lol.
     Not only was I afraid to admit the end was near, I was also scheduled to work at 7 a.m. on Friday. Staying up until 2 a.m. and then driving home from Kingston, getting home at 3 a.m. and then waking up 2 hours later for work would be a bad idea. I had a feeling there would be a lot of snooty bastards wearing hot Nabob coffee and walking around with a fork in their orbital cavity if I pulled that stunt. I need my sleep. In fact, everyone needs my sleep.
     Therefore, when I heard that The Regent Theatre in Picton (Bless their little hearts!) were having a 9 p.m. show of HP DH1, followed by the midnight show of HP DH2, I was ecstatic! I announced via facebook that I would be attending "HP DH1 and 2" in Picton on Thursday night and asked if anyone would like to come with.
     Well, the response was underwhelming. Most of my so-called "friends" were confused by my acronym. Janet thought I intended to watch the making of printers (HP - Hewlett Packard). It could also have been that I was taking a course on the benefits of steak sauce, I suppose. Others have not fully embraced George Orwell's Nineteen Eight-Four Newspeak the way I have.
   Side note: That book is terrifying in it's accurate portrayal of human society, btw. Should read. No doublethinking.
     Meanwhile, back at The Island Family Restaurant on Thursday night, things are looking good for me. I have asked Ashley to do the closing duties so I can leave early and secure a place in line. The Regent is run by volunteers that cannot organize advanced ticket sales, so I actually have to do something in person rather than online. IRL sucks! The Regent Theatre Foundation.... there's no app for that, dammit! Anyway, 6:30 p.m. and I think I'm home free. I should be out by 7 p.m. All my fill-ups are done, the bathrooms are clean, the place is empty... except for that table of four. Oh, and one more table of four. Now, a table of two. Couple of more tables of 3... WTF!!! People, can you not see that I am trying to get to a very important movie!?

Me and Dev in front of The Regent

     I refused to take any tables. I gave up any hope of tips by bussing tables for Ashley and taking all the takeout orders for an hour. When the clock struck 7:30 (and not a millisecond later), I was out that door like a teenaged girl stealing lacy panties from La Senza. No looking back, hands in my pockets and trying not to look guilty.
     I went home to change and realized I had forgotten my purse at work. What a bunch of bullshit! Now, not only do I have to waste more time, I also have to face my employers who probably didn't want me to leave the new girl in a busy restaurant by herself. FML. Luckily, the only thing Amy had to say was, "Ohh, Sheila. You've gone home already?" I said, "Yep! I've got a date!" Grabbed my bag and got out.
     Meanwhile, Alex is texting me, "Don't even go home. Get here NOW." The lineup was around the corner and rumour had it there was no multiple ticket sales (i.e. you can't buy tickets for people who are not already with you.) At this point, I was speedwalking the two blocks to the movie theatre wearing my Green Lantern t-shirt and Old Navy chambray shorts. I would have liked to have the Slytherin robes I bought in Florida, but clearly Alex had beaten me to the punch because they were not hanging beside my bed where they usually are. My elder wand (the most powerful wand and one of the deathly hollows) was somewhere deep in the hollows of my son's bedroom, so I couldn't bring it either.
     Alex and Devon were waiting at the front of the line when I arrived. My heart skipped a beat with joy! Now, if I could just get tickets for Heather and Randie. Heather not only knew what I meant by "HPDH2", but also offered to watch it with me. I would not fail her.
     "Buddy", who manages the theatre, arrived late. He was one of the bastards who had come in for dinner at The Island when I was trying to get the hell out of there. He gave us a little warning about using video cameras in the theatre. Nevermind that after you buy a ticket, no one is there to take it from you to make sure you bought one. Anyone could walk through the front doors and push past all the people buying tickets in order to find a good seat. In fact, that's just what Heather and Randie did. Unfortunately, I had already purchased their tickets. I'm just saying... some security is in order.
     We got some pretty good seats in the exact middle of the theatre. The new seats are not uncomfortable, especially considering we were sitting there for about 5 hours, but the flat floor makes it impossible to see anything taking place at the bottom of the screen because even one row of heads in front of you impedes your line of sight. Heather had to read the subtitles for me (when Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue).
     Anyway, during the first movie, there's a scene where Harry visits his parents' graves. For some reason, this was where Heather got a case of the giggles. The woman just celebrated her 40th birthday and she's busting a gut, trying to start a popcorn fight. Well, this gets me started on some nervous tittering, thinking we are about to get kicked out of Harry Potter for being obnoxious. If I try to hold back my laughter, it just finds some other way to come out. Sometimes I blow a snort out my nose that sounds alot like a horse - which is what I did at this time. Other times, I fart, and I am glad that did not happen like it did in my grade 12 classic civilizations class. That bit of gas caused my friend, Alison, to fall out of her desk onto the floor in fits of laughter and get us both kicked out. Damn that Ms. Grimley!
     To make matters worse, Heather suggested we needed a slingshot to try to get popcorn into the balcony where Alex and Devon were sitting. I said, "Take off your underwear and we'll see what they can do." By this point, Randie is hiding her eyes from the scene with Nagini and Bathilda Bagshot, which is even more hilarious. This continues until the point where... SPOILER ALERT! If you haven't read the books and (for some odd reason) you haven't seen the first part of Deathly Hollows, please skip to the next paragraph. Thank you. SOOOOO, we get to the part where Dobby has been stabbed in the chest by that bitch, Bellatrix LeStrange, and he is dying in Harry's arms on the beach.
     Randie and I are bawling our eyes out. I'm sniffing constantly and wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands, while Randie is suffering silently beside me by covering her mouth with her hands and biting back the tears. So Heather says, "It's alright, girls."
     With red-rimmed eyes and a vicious, almost satanic growl, Randie and I simultaneously give Heather a death glare and say, "NO, IT'S NOT!" We were practically insulted that she could suggest everything was alright while Dobby lay dying! I'm sure the whole theater heard us.
     In an effort to keep the shenanigans to a minimum, I told Heather and Randie that I would sit with Alex and Devon for the next show. After a quick pee break, I took a seat beside Alex where she had been storing her back pack. She said to me, "You're not going to want to sit there. The guy sitting in the chair beside you needs both of those seats." I assumed she was overreacting and I think I called her a drama queen before going out for some refreshments. When I returned, there was a large gentleman in a brown t-shirt in the space beside mine. He politely offered to stand up and move to the aisle while I took my seat beside Alex. He was quite spry for a man of over 300 pounds and very polite. Plus, he didn't stink. So, I was down with sharing some of my seat with the fellow.
     However, trying to relax while I am leaning over into Alex' seat so I don't touch my neighbour, while Alex leans over into Devon's seat so she doesn't come close to her own mother (who obvsly has a bad case of mom cooties) lost it's cosy appeal after about four minutes. It was then that I felt my blessed smart phone start to vibrate and glow, indicating an incoming text. Who could that be?

              Heather: Who's your lil friend beside you?

     I look down to the floor seats to see her pointing up at me and laughing because my face has probably turned all shades of red, hoping my "lil friend" isn't reading my glowing, bold text over my shoulder. After all, I might as well be sitting in his lap. I quickly tuck my phone into my shorts and yell down at Heather, pointing, "You bitch, you!" I tell my lil friend not to bother getting up and I squeeze out of the row to go and sit with Heather and Randie, who clearly need my supervision.
     I decided I had to see the movie again tonight, this time in 3D. It's really much better in surround sound with 3D glasses, but I wish Heather and Randie had been with me. I'm sure Randie would have bitch-slapped the moron behind me who was giving a running commentary on the "believability" of the film.

Teaching an old (female) dog new tricks



Chucking the deuce with my Nintendo DS game

      So far, July has been all about learning. For example, I wanted to learn Chinese. I thought, "Maybe, if I learn a few words in Chinese, I can impress my new bosses by ordering a Combo Number 4 in their native tongue."
     Therefore, I spent countless hours trolling the used video game sections and surfing eBay to find a copy of My Chinese Coach for Nintendo DS. I learn best when I'm trying to beat a video game and it seemed like a good idea at the time. I finally got one for about $30 from eBay seller 12skip12... and then we had a postal strike. It took a couple of extra weeks, but I did eventually get the game and couldn't wait to start learning!
     A couple of late nights and I had figured out numbers 1 - 10, the days of the week and I could say, "Mother scolds the horse" with perfect tone. Writing in Chinese was another matter. I cannot grasp the concept of symbols vs. letters and I can't absorb the meaning of all the little lines. When I write Chinese, all I see are little windows, little roof tops and an occasional ladder. This is quite a blow to my ego.
     Not to be discouraged, I learned how to say, "Today is Sunday. Yesterday was Saturday. Tomorrow is Monday." I repeated these sentences over and over in my head all day Sunday at the Waring House so I would be ready to recite them for George in the afternoon.
     When I walked in the kitchen at 4 p.m., I took a deep breath and said, "Hey George! Jintian shi xingqi tian." He looked up from his huge plate of vegetables and stared at me for a second...  just before he started laughing so hard that sauce came out his nose. "I don't know what you say!" he roared. I explained that I had spent $30 to learn how to say "Today is Sunday" in Chinese and he was ruining everything by not understanding me. He said, "You spend thirty dollah to learn how to say THAT?" And he roared with laughter some more. This made Amy come into the kitchen, so I told her what I said. She didn't laugh, but she did give me a little tip. Apparently, Mandarin and Cantonese are the same language in writing, but are pronounced completely differently. It's kind of like I can write the numbers, "1, 2, 3, 4" and everyone knows what those numbers are, whether they speak Spanish, German, French or Italian. However, they are pronounced differently in each of those languages. Similarly, what I had learned to say was in Mandarin, whereas George and Amy speak Cantonese. If I could just master all the little symbols, maybe I can write out the orders and George will not have to laugh at me.
     So, it's a work in progress. Another language I'm trying to master is urban. What the hell am I talking about you might ask? Lemme break it down for you, my brotha'. I am listening to alot of Nicki Minaj and Wiz Khalifa these days and I'm having a hard time figuring out what the hell they are saying. I'm sure it's very cool stuff, I just want to be cool, too. If you want to be cool, check out urbandictionary.com. Meantime, I will give you a couple of examples:

Urban -  "I ain' gon' flex, I'm not gon' front. You know when I ball then we all gon' stunt"
English - "I'm not fake. I really do have quite a lot of money. And, when people are with me, everyone looks good."
County girl- "I am so down to earth. I'm going out on the town tonight, wearing my best Old Navy tank top, Payless sandals and jewelry from Ardene. Prolly taking a cab."

Urban - "I mack them dudes up, back coupes up and chuck the deuce up"
English - "I flirt with boys, drive fast cars and give respect to my friends by waving my two fingers in the air"
County girl - "I like to make out with random people when I'm drunk, I drive a mini-van and I give people the finger when they piss me off."

     Now, that I can talk the talk, it's time to learn to walk the walk. Apparently, there is a dance called "The Dougie" that is either hard to do or just a basic step that everyone needs to know. It's latest claim to fame is being featured in "The Lazy Song" by Bruno Mars, in which he sings, "Click to MTV so they can teach me how to Dougie". I have been meaning to Google it, but I never find the time... until now. Check out http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJxYiIfr4WM&feature=share
     I showed my new-found skills to one of the girls at work on Tuesday. Thanks for not laughing, Lindsay. And, I will officially post a link of my dance debut from The Waring House on Sunday afternoon. Be prepared.
     Another hot dance craze is The Shuffle for LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem". This is going to be a little more difficult as "The Running Man" is involved. I have NEVER been able to do that. Check out http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luqf6E3DILc for more info.
     I learned a very cool Salsa from a friend-of-a-friend who I was hanging out with today. "Kate" is THE coolest handicapped woman (second only to my own niece) because she really likes Selena Gomez from Wizards of Waverly Place, but she also watches "a show that has SEX in it", she laughs at all my jokes and she did a lap dance for someone at her church - complete with the customary hair whipping. I also thought she said that she liked "penis" today, but what she really said was that she liked "pitas"... so we went to the Pita Pit in Belleville for lunch. Excellent, btw.
     Anyway, in the middle of what Kate referred to as a "half rain" (but I would more likely call "a fucking downpour") in front of said Pita Pit on North Front Street, she showed me the Salsa, in which she steps back and forth and claps her hands. I showed her the Dougie and she told me it was old. Must not have been too bad though 'cos she included me in her prayers tonight. "God bless the one that gave me lunch and danced with me in the living room", she said. Lol. Awesome.