But I had to blog this! Comet would want me to.

This month, Ed and Martine are asking us to relate “a bad or strange experience you had while dining at someone else’s home”. I already blogged my perfect story for this monkey a while back, so this month’s monkey for me is a re-post.

So long and thanks for all the fish - First posted March 13th, 2003.

“So Bill and I are planning a little breakfast date and she offers to provide lox for the bagels. I reply, “no thanks, I don’t eat fish”.

I really don’t like fish (or any other seafood). I deeply regret this because I know how good it’d be for me to eat it once in a while.

Anyway, this caused me to remember with a smile some gastronomic nightmare that once befell me. I was in the beautiful Atlantic town of Bergen, Norway, world-famous for its fabulous fish. The whole town smells of fish. I was visiting the family of a professor I’d met online, and they were of course very proud of their local delicacies, so the menu my first night there was of course going to be fish. Ugh. But not just fish: a bouillabaisse with three types of fresh fish, fresh scampis, mussels, shrimps, etc.

I realized with shame that to most people this would have been a wonderful meal, but all I could do was try not to inhale too deeply to avoid the smell.

Too polite to refuse their food, I courageously muscled my way through all the fish and seafood, blocking off my senses to keep from gagging. Finally, at the bottom of my bowl were left only two disgusting-looking mussels, staring up at me with their bivalves. I collected my thoughts, tried to clear my mind, and put one in my mouth, trying in vain to swallow. But my eyes just watered and my stomach contracted in protest. It had taken all it would from the sea.

What to do? This was a desperate time. I took advantage of baby Harald grabbing everyone’s attention, and, feigning a mouth wipe, quickly transferred the mussel to a napkin, disposing of the napkin in my sock. The other mussel quickly underwent the same journey. A quick trip to the bathroom, and they had recovered their freedom.

Sometimes I feign an allergy to fish because people insist “oh but you must try this”. And don’t get me started on the whole social stigma associated with the blasphemy of not liking sushi.

Some tastes are not meant to be acquired.”

Before the lame-ass new Star Wars movies, we might have let it go if we saw a Lando Calrissian or an Ewok waiting in line for a movie. Not anymore. Anyone disguised as a Jedi in this day and age had better have been helped into that costume by a caregiver assigned by the state to assist their special needs.

Dressing like Darth Vader creates a number of sexual obstacles. First you have to find someone who doesn’t mind dating the dark lord of geeks, and from this point on the sentence is moot since you won’t, and then they have to safely be able to dig their way through your codpiece of cybernetic space enhancements.

Damn, I’ll have to rethink my costume this year.

(Thanks Dr. Wank)

How often do you get to work on the TV commercial for your upcoming game? (now Nika, let the other kids answer).

My friend E just moved in with his girlfriend. On Saturday, I’m picking up the cardboard boxes they used to move their personal belongings into their new love nest, and using them to help my ex pack up and move out.

I feel so modern.

During a chat with Martine tonight, she mentioned how people often told Blork he looked like Alec Baldwin, and how they told her she looked like Jodie Foster. I told her I got the same about Neve Campbell. This led to a chat involving Patrick and Stephanie about who would play various Montreal bloggers in Yulblog: The Movie.

Our suggestions:
Aaron: Guy Pearce (I’m proud I found that one)
Maciej: David Duchovny (I’m proud I found that one too)
Bill: Andie McDowell, Janeane Garofalo, Cher.
Maggie: Tippy Hedren, Eartha Kitt.
Karl: Rupert Everett.
Boris: Paul Bettany (sorry Boris, but I was outvoted on that one), Robert Duncan McNeill.
Alex: Freddy Rodriguez.
Nika: Parker Posey.
Stephanie: Michelle Yeoh, Maggie Cheung.
AJ: Peter Sellers, but only in this picture.
Patrick: We never agreed on a suitable lookalike.

So what do you think? Do you have any better casting ideas for yulbloggers?

Attended my cousin’s lovely fall wedding yesterday. I’m not really sure why, but I’m always encouraged by the fact that no matter how modern our society gets, we still take the time to mark life’s momentous occasions with ceremonies. It makes me feel like we still fit in with human history and tradition. And for some reason that’s a good thing.

This is the one reason (and pretty much the only one) that I regret the decline of religion in our society. A baptism, independent of the religious aspect, is a community getting together to welcome a new person into the world. Funerals are a community getting together to fare a loved one well. What could be more human? There are secular alternatives to weddings and funerals, sure, but how often do we bother with them? It seems to me that organized religion always made sure the rites took place.

Now, here’s a question: we all know what it means when you catch the bouquet at a wedding. But what does it mean when you deftly catch the bouquet as if it were the perfect frisbee pass, and then your cousins turn into hyenas and start ripping it out of your grasp, and you feel the flowers coming apart in your hands, so you decide to let it go to save the bouquet?

Well, I guess it means my love life isn’t likely to improve anytime soon.

And true to my domain name: I bought a condo, the first (but not the only) one I visited.

Domain name aside, it was a little unsettling how quick and easy the whole process was. First I met the realtor and gave him my preferences. Three days later we visited a few spots, and made an offer that very day. It was accepted the following. Two days after that, the inspection and financing conditions had been fulfilled.

And that was that. What I thought would be a long learning process of a few months, getting to know the market, searching high and low for the diamond in the rough, et cetera, took less than a week from initiating the search to concluding the purchase. Between drinking coffee at the kitchen table and throwing the dog her ball, I’d bought my first property.

And I’ve now begun to carry the Ikea catalog with me.

Yesterday, my landlord was doing work at the apartment, and when I found out, it was too late to get a dogsitter for Comet. As I often do when I’m desperate, I turned to the net for a solution.

And this time, I found civilization’s next giant leap forward: doggie daycare. Not your usual kennel, where dogs are kept in cages, but a place that keeps them in common rooms with other dogs, with outdoor access and people and educators who play with them all day. The center is complete with grooming facilities, an obedience training school and a boutique. I decided to give it a try.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t kind of place I could afford to - or would even want to - send Comet to everyday. I mean, who am I, Michèle Richard? I was a little iffy on the yuppiness of the concept, but when I got there it was clear I was dealing with real people. Real dog people. (Oh, and cats. Lots of cats freely roaming the waiting area).

When I picked Comet up, the head trainer spent a good twenty minutes giving her an evaluation, discussing her with me and giving me great tips and pointers. Most surprising of all, he doesn’t think she’s stupid. I had to call T with the news! But I’m not completely convinced of it yet myself.

Anyway, I’m sold. It was great to find that I had a humane alternative to a kennel, a place where I could always leave her with responsible, competent dog lovers.

The place is called Montreal Dogs.

(picture from www.montrealdogs.com)

Rumor has it Bush is receiving guidance during debates via a wireless device. The article has a picture of an apparently-telltale bulge in the back of his jacket.

(Thanks Dr. Wank)