Tonight there was an animal documentary on about animals, communication and emotion. Tell me if this isn't Shakespeare: referred to as a temple troupe, a group of wild monkeys (yes, I forget the exact name...) is studied by researchers. The leader, a kindly male who's gentle with his mates and good with the wee ones has lead for about three hears longer than is normal for this species. A younger primate challenges him, and although a friend of the leader (referred to as Jeeves) trys to intercede protectively, ultimately the younger male wounds the older one fatal and sits back to watch him die. He is tended by Jeeves as he dies, and the entire troupe comes out to mourn him when the body stiffens and grows cold...well, almost the entire troupe. The new, younger bad ass monkey leader sits back on his haunches and looks pretty damn smug. In coming days he's brutal with his mates and abuses the children, and then one day the researchers come back and find something interesting. The original challenger has been beaten and humbled, stripped of rank and a bit of an ear not by a new challenger, but by the females who've had enough. They've chosen Jeeves as the new leader, demonstrating the value their tribe places on kindness over force. Well, maybe it's a Greek play but you know? They are creatures of depth. Much to deep to be the trophy pet of a slutty debutante.
And it also got me thinking about a project nearly ten years in my noodle, which this may be the year to launch. More later.

There's this guy at St. Lawrence Market, Satudays, north hall who plays sax. I also think he might be an oracle. Last week as I was walking by he stretched out his arms to me and said "The summer smiles, the summer knows, she sees you hesitate and grins...." and then the rest was drowned out by some woman laughing with the apple people. Jazz poetry improve? Message from the Great Whatever? Is there really a difference? Hmmm.

It's sort of become like an Agatha Christie play of disorders. Diabetes, bane of modern North American existence has tapped first my dad, then brother and now my mum. All are dealing well with a new lifestyle and routine medicines, all are a little annoyed.
I know I eat like an ant, glorious husband tells me this on a semi regular basis. I like sweets, and pastries, and if I'm honest am most of the way through a lemon tart as I post. Now it's gone. Have I mentioned the beauty of eggy tarts? That deceptively flaking crust saturated with succulant buttery goodness, cradling a golden disc of quivering custard reminiscent of a setting sun? O yes, fair sugar, I am thy slave. I identify strongly with the late great Queen Mum, who was all about the cookies and gin and lived to be 102, if I remember correctly. But that is not the fate of my bloodline; I am in my mid 30's and feel as though I am standing on the edge of a battle field peppered with traps and snares and things that go boom: diabetes, heart disease, alcoholism, cancer (blood and colon in particular), depression and (hurray!) insanity. I am armed with foresight, but perhaps limiting my love affair with sugar and refined carbs and moving my ass a bit might be better armor.
And yet, so close...coissant. Thou lofty and radiant gem of breads, so like your cousin pastries and yet within your hidden core lies a secret stash of chocolate...sigh. Breakfast of Champions indeed.

Was supposed to attend a hospice event last night, but by the time I got home I was so exhausted that I fell asleep. Then woke up and realized 20 min had passed and I wasn't done yet. Sent some silent appologies that I would not be in the audience (had dressed up-ish and everything), cudded up with pasta, cat and husband (cat between husband and self, as always) and watched TVO for a bit. Magnificent documentary on underwater mammals, from seals to strange seal like things that inflate their nostrils to fend each other off (really disturbing looking), to blind Ganges river dolphins that use sonar to find food and each other in the murky depths, to river dophins in Carolina that have complex methods of hunting including driving fish onto banks in packs, laying belly do dorsal in a line and feasting sideways, to an excellent CGI blue whale construction from a skeleton so you could see the size of lungs, heart (think small car) and baleen next to the researcher, to graphic fotage of mating wright whales (12 foot highly mobile er...boy bit) to the singing of humpback whales. And my brow furrowed more than a bit when they said that people - brave, fool hearty, dumb ass people - swim with humpbacks to feel the vibrations on their skin. And I got a bit upset when I remembered how the whaling ban is going through an upheaval, and people want to hunt sea giants again. They're intellegent, alive, and new things are being discovered about them all the time just by watching. They can't taste *that* good. And then I fell back asleep for a very long time. Woke up less exhausted than usual. On to another day.

So, that was BookExpo. Omifreakingods, that was fun. Nerves nearly got the better of me, not so much for the author event but for seeing people that I haven't seen since my downsizing. Some of them I saw at other booths, some just walking about - all were well. And all that I saw seemed happy to see me, which was great. Some got in line to have books signed, which was odd. When my exboss stood before me, book in hand, and asked me to sign it - I couldn't resist, was feeling puckish. Years ago, just for fun and because I'm good at it, I showed her my skill at forgery. Have only ever used my powers for good here, writing people letters in their own hand writing from time to time. So when I signed the "to" part of her book? Her signature, couldn't help it. She howled, I howled, it was a howl a palooza. Met several very interesting people, some great authors, and was immeasurable proud to stand in the company of the other authors in the anthology. There are some very smart, funny and groovy people I'm under the covers with, and afterward (although my plan was to call Kelly and see if she wanted to go see "an inconvenient truth") a bunch of us went to dinner and talked shop. Writing shop? Love talking that shop. Not so much the cube farm veal filing bitch shop, so I need to work harder at turning out more stories and applying to more anthologies.
Monday I slacked a bit, and Tuesday conducted a wedding. The grooms were two of the cutest I've seen, they even had the same size rings they were so physically similar. One of the sets of parents was able to come to Canada too which was absolutely wonderful. It's a long way to come for family and friends, but when they can make it the ceremony is so much nicer. Yesterday I meant to work more here, today I've got two planning meetings plus work. EBay is selling better now that I've listed "Buy it now" options and I've been invited to write an article for a bridal store, possibly run a class. When to write, is the thing I suppose. Right now seems good, so bye for now.

So BookExpo is this weekend, and I'm a little freakishly nervous. It's an event I've always looked forward to except this time I'm not with a publisher. Well, I *am* with a publisher and dearly thankful and giddy about it...but not the same one and not as an employee. I'll be seeing the same vendors and booksellers I've come to know and love and be challenged by not as someone with book fragments dangling from her lips to tempt them with various titles, but as an author this time, one book and it's a whole. new. world. And so, in true form I've run up a wall of Other Stuff On The Go over the past few weeks...because. Started an online bookstore. Enrolled in university, my credit card a-tingle. Started four books, at once, not reading but writing. Taken on a bit too much volunteer work again, thanks so much. Sponsored a kid through a secular agency, his name is Yulius and I really have to write. Entertained, taken on casual employees for various minion related activities, joined a sword fighting academy, started regular tarot readings at a brewery in exchange for beer tickets because really, beer makes things better. The full time job? Still there, but to make it more challenging I'm writing a manual for my position and implementing a biofiltration system (yes, strategic plants) because I have to earn the riches I feel coming my way. I have to do more to merit this feeling of bliss, the overwhelming grin and giggle of getting the 10pm phone call from my grade 12 English teacher saying "well, this is just so exciting, you have no idea how the ladies at lunch took the news". I'm not sure I can pay the Whatever back for this and greedy bitch that I am, all I want is more, just a little more of this shameless rush. So. Strike while the iron is hot, they say, and heat the iron by striking. The weekend is nigh.