Ah... moms.
My mom is in town this weekend, and unlike Steff, I did not spend hours upon hours cleaning up my place since I don't mind the nagging so much. It's only for the weekend, a very small dose. Such a small dose that it's actually somewhat nostalgic and not even close to bordering on annoying.
Anyways, with mom comes... PRESENTS!!!!!!!!! My pride and joy, I finally got what I'd been craving for a llittle while now, my very own sewing machine! Yes, I like sewing. Yes, I know, I'm a guy. I'm not supposed to like sewing. But I don't like sewing, I love sewing! Fine, you can think I'm a wuss if you want, but sewing is actually a total chick magnet too. If you doubt me, just ask Jo about her custom-made Opabinia regalis stuffed toy.
This machine is ancient. It was dug up somehow from the clutter in my maternal grandfather's house after he passed away a few years ago. I'm not sure why it was kept, and why we bothered to transport it to Ottawa from Winnipeg, but I'm sure glad that some sort of packrat instinct kicked in in my mom. When I opened it up yesterday, it didn't work. The needle just kind of sat there. Didn't go up. Didn't go down. Didn't sew. :(
This is where it pays to have an uncle in T.O. who has, at one point, worked in every sort of machine/repair shop imaginable. Took him five minutes. Yay. Then came the lecture. After every repair comes the lecture about how cheaply and terribly this stupid product is/how I didn't take care of it properly and why did I buy it and if I had just gotten a good one in the first place and taken care of it he wouldn't have to be playing good old repairman uncle for me when he could be lounging with a nice German beer. (He's real German, like, actually from Germany.) I thought I'd be able to be spared the lecture this time, since I didn't buy it and the need for repair could be attributed not to anyone's fault, but merely the machine's advanced gerontological state. No such luck. The lecture was merely altered, basically saying, "I had better not see this machine back on my doorstep anytime soon just because you thought it would be funny to try and sew plywood and sheet metal together, dunky."
So now it works and I can get started on my project, which is a compartmentalized bag for all my Scrabble stuff!! The main problem is the size of my board. It's hard plastic, so it doesn't fold up. Also, I bike there every week and so for something so large, I'd like to be able to sling it over my sholder onto my back so it's hands-free. At this point, anything less than custom will disappoint me.
The other nice thing I did with my mom was that we went to see Hairspray. The greatest thing is that we got the cheapest tickets available - $26 - and we sat in the SECOND ROW! No seat stealing or anthing, that's where the tickets were for. Fucking wonderful. From that close you notice that they spit a lot when they sing. And sweat a lot from the dancing. And the mikes are weird, they tape them to their forehead and that musn't be too comfy. I guess you get used to it. But I feel sorry for some of the performers. I bet they get little bits of spittle in their faces form other performers and what can they do about it? It's the middle of the show, they just gotta take it and keep smiling and keep performing. So you have to dance around and sing and look really happy even though someone has just spit in your face. Probably happens every single night too. You try it. Being in a musical isn't as fun as it looks I guess.
Anyways, the show is fantabulous I tells ya, everyone should go see it sometime. The whole thing is just fun and silly and lots of dancing. Spitting! Sweating! Dancing! Singing! One of the leads is a fat man in drag! The other is from American Idol! What more could you possibly ask for? Tons better than the Producers. That musical was shite. Like this entry, but it will hopefully at least chase away some of the cobwebs and tumbleweeds that have been see around here lately.