It's official. After having the bird-talk with my mother, managing to rein in my finances over the past month, working out a realistic yet generous Christmas budget and making a household decision to only smoke reefer on weekends (mostly), I'm getting the Panasonic Lumix TZ1 for my birthday, which seems easy to use while having a ten-times zoom. It's very exciting. In preparation Figaro has been letting me mess around with his camera, which is much more complicated, so hopefully at this point it just gets easier.
So I've started a flickr page so everyone can look at the gross, retarded or outside pictures I take. There's a lot I want to remember about Toronto too, after I leave . . . things to look at. Toronto has a funny cocktail of ugly, nice and busy. I think it will be fun to have a camera here.
Now for something completely different - last night we watched Fawlty Towers. I didn't like it much. Maybe it suffered because Figaro dug up some old Monty Python episodes a couple of weeks ago, and since I hadn't actually sat down and watched the Monty Python series while I was snaked - like, EVER, now that I think about it - I was amused to the point of peeing myself. I'd forgotten how absurd and unpredictable it was and all that collage animation is cute when I'm high. Anyways, the three episodes we happened to see didn't have John Cleese in them, and you know, they didn't suffer for it. And then Fawlty Towers; well, you know. Too much story. Too much humour based on discomfort. I like things that don't make sense and it made too much sense.
Anyways, here comes the weekend and my birthday. Yesterday a package arrived from Melbine, and I'm pretty sure I know what it is, but I won't open it until tomorrow. Even though I want to because I figure it will make my working day much more energetic. Bootywise. You're the best, lady!