"Laser Me Skinny": The Rufus Hewlett Story/

So first off, I have to thank Paula (if that's your real name...Dr. Dolittle is more like it) for her ingenius laser beam suggestion. "A" has been telling me to buy one of of those for about seven months, but why would I listen to him? No, no, complete strangers are WAY more reliable. Anyhow, I bought a laser pointer yesterday, and Rufus went nuts! Not only did he STAND UP...he actually JUMPED a little and sort of RAN. Okay, okay, calling it "running" would be a bit of a stretch, but it was faster than a walk. It was a trot. A cat-trot. A rapid waddle. The way someone runs when they're just getting to the end of a marathon and they only trained for a 10K. (That's "kilometres", for all you mile-using Americans. Ki-lo-me-tres. It's a measure of distance. And I, it would seem, am really really hyper today. Must be the rain.)

I am thrilled, therefore, to say that my cat is well on his way to becoming an athlete. I, on the other hand, am sitting at my computer eating a pizza. (It has a high-fibre crust, though, which cancels out the cheese. Somehow.)

It is a quiet day today in the loft, other than the sound of little furry feet chasing something they will, alas, never catch. I spent the morning organizing one of my email accounts (I have seven) into folders. You know, "The fam", "Friends from high school", "Friends from theatre school", "Ex-boyfriends", "The Aeroplan account I didn't know I had", "People I don't really like anymore but whose emails I'm keeping anyway because I'm incapable of throwing things out". That sort of thing. I have decided not to start writing my new play until Tuesday. Yep, Tuesday's the day. For now, I am officially on holiday, which will hopefully mean that I can stop feeling guilty soon and relax, after a truly crazy summer of theatre.

As for the members of PHARK (that band photo was fantastic, by the way!), things are going swimmingly. "A" is getting ready for his three back-to-back acting gigs; "H" has his delightfully feisty girlfriend in town; "P" splits his time evenly between brainstorming film ideas and...well...beard maintenance; "R" is losing his mind over a beam of light; and I am blogging my life away.

M and I are thrilled about all the comments in other languages -- thank you and keep them coming. I am actually getting a little cocky about my French. Oui, c'est vrai, je suis bilingue! C'est merveilleux! (See? Cocky.) I checked out Les Cowboys Fringands, as instructed, and I absolutely love them. My favorite song so far is "Ma belle Sophie."

Please feel free to tell me about other bands/musicians that I wouldn't hear about otherwise. French bands, British bands, Hungarian bands, American bands, Russian bands, Italian bands, Spanish bands, Klingon bands (No! No! I'm kidding! Please don't...) I like low-key, mellow music the best and I'm a big fan of piano and vocals, guitar and vocals, etc. My faves (oh my god, I just used the word "faves". GIVE me some caffeine. NOW!) are:
Rufus (meow) Wainwright, Hawksley Workman, Ani di Franco, Jack Johnson, Keane, The Weakerthans, Claire Jenkins, Sarah Harmer, Lauryn Hill (that's a new one for me), Johnny Cash (also new...don't tell my dad, because I made fun of him for twenty years) and many more.

In return, I will continue to post photos of David that prove he's not actually as much of a jerk as McKay. He smiles. Often. With teeth. (Not much hair, though. He shares that characteristic with Rodney, strangely enough.)

Off to eat the other half of that pizza. Yaaaaaaaay fibre!

K.