Sleep is evading me. Again. I don't really have anything interesting on my mind, and I've been vigilant in the 'sleep hygiene' regimen I was given awhile ago (by some idiot doctor). Nice comfy bed. The dogs are calm (mostly). And still no deal. Sleep and I may have to come to an uneasy agreement in that I know it's supposed to come through and it tells me to get lost.

This morning I head upstairs and come face to face with a hottie cable guy that is fiddling with the wires to get a clearer picture. My stepdad is perched anxiously on the couch, waiting for the verdict. I just sigh and look pointedly at the new satellite receiver. The satellite was installed last Monday (to my great joy) and there he was, worried about the cable (that we all agreed would be disconnected as it has no real channels, very fuzzy reception NO MATTER WHAT, and the cost is what we pay for satellite programming now). But I suppose old people are reluctant to let go of familiar fuzzy channels that are: a) in french (no one in the house speaks french), b) mostly entertainment channels (no one really cares about what weird thing Tom Cruise is up to now) and c) just plain LAME.

Now I can guess what you are thinking; why the big deal about television? Well, let me tell you. When you are surrounded by nothing but trees and 4 feet of snow (which will grow to 6 or 7 by February), then television becomes somewhat interesting. Especially as you've read every book in the house approximately 7 times each, and the nearest city is 200 kilometres away. So, forgive me if I worship at the alter that is satellite television for a little while.

In any event, the hottie cable guy talks to me and stoops down (about 6 feet of him, I would say) and pets Buckley (picture a fierce sneer on his face) but I'm not buying this in-house pickup. I tell him I would spend more time talking him up but I need to either renew my subscription with eHarmony or hope for the day John Cusack realises there is a northern girl in Canada (not Neve Cambell) who would probably be more than happy to go for vietnamese food with him (me, of course) then I go back downstairs (after grabbing another can of pepsi).

John Cusack, John Cusack, John Cusack, ok? I know I've mentioned him a few times in this space but who cares? Blogs are full of crap all of the time, so any readers who are miffed with the Cusack references can either stop reading or stop emailing me regarding the subject. Cusack! So there.

Ok, I'd better go.
Before anyone else gets hurt.

Labels: cable, insomnia, John Cusack

Hrmmm, it's 8:20 in the morning.

why, you might ask am I up at this ungodly hour?

Because Cusack is on A&E right this minute. GO. Go now and watch.

Labels: A and E, John Cusack

I got it in my head last night that I should be doing more with my spare time. I should be going out more, and attending to the things that I (think) I like. I was thinking last night that maybe a weekend trip to Michigan for some casual shopping would be a good idea.

Imagine my chagrin when I discovered that Michigan is not really one of the hot spots for shopping, per se.

Thus, I started looking at places in a broader manner. Scrolling around a map of the United States near my border crossing and I see that Chicago isn't that far. In fact, it's only about 6 hours door to door.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but there is quite a lot going on in Chicago. So, I called Rose this morning and asked her to come with me for a little road trip. An overnight in a classy downtown hotel and some night life. Photographs. Boat on the river. Just general tourist kind of thing. She's trying to make arrangements for her kids, I'm sitting here chewing my nails because now I *really* want to go.

However, given how quickly I change my mind, do not be surprised if I do not go.

Last night, eating cheese pizza in front of the television after coming home from spending time with my sister and her son, I was thinking about watching one of those gooey love movies just so I can be a little more brain dead for bed time. I decided on 'Say Anything...' with John Cusack. I have the movie because it was on sale, and I dig John Cusack (sometimes) and because it's the only time I've ever seen him act *that* way before or since in his acting career.

In that kind of mood, I'm thinking "Woohoo! I can watch this and goggle at Mr. Cusack in a manner in which I only would do so only in my living room, in my pjs with cheese pizza." However, once the movie started I realised that I was staring at John Cusack's rendition of an 18 year old boy.

That's when I stopped the movie and put on Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. It just won't do for me to be attracted to ANY kind of rendition of a child under the age of 20.

So. That's my exciting life. I'm planning an overnight trip to Chicago for the hell of it, eating too many Oreo cookies, and awaiting the release of Mattie's new album, Hospital Music. I refuse to listen to any samples until I have the disc in my car.

Oh, and I might be buying a new car too. But that is a maybe. You know me and making up my mind. It's a tricky business being Gish, let me tell you.
Love,
G.

Labels: drama, Gish, how not to be an idiot, John Cusack, Matthew Good, music, neurotic, photographs, photography, travelling