What an interesting afternoon we had today.

At approximately 3PM this Saturday afternoon of October in the year 2006, while a family of four sat down finishing their lunchtime meal, it beeped. The beep was more like a ring. The ring was more like a loud cry... a scream to be exact. The carbon monoxide detector upstairs near the bedrooms screamed to get our attention. Something was wrong.

BEEP BEEP--BEEP BEEP.. 4 seconds later.. BEEP BEEP--BEEP BEEP... this went on for what felt like forever and a day.

Forks and knives were dropped, hitting the plates that still held some food. "Why was the detector going off?" This is a question we asked ourselves. As I got up, climbed the stairs to see what was wrong, my legs were trembling not knowing what I would discover. "The silent killer", I whisper to myself. These words repeated in my head when I saw the numbers 4 and 7. Fourty-seven. What does that mean?

Rushing back down, I asked my brother what this could mean. He says it is a number that determines the amount of carbon monoxide that is in the house. We start to panic because we know that this could end up being deadly. The next move we make is to open all the windows. Four in total upstairs. Then we move downstairs. The doors, the windows, they all had to stay open because we needed to breathe. Our lungs craved fresh air.

Mom and dad-- still at the lunch table. Fingers clutching chicken thighs, chewing fast to swallow so they can fill their hungry stomachs. Chris and I were still in panic. To the basement we went, and opened the windows down there too. The dryer was on as we were washing clothes earlier. Mom made me go and fold clothes. I checked the status on the detector downstairs and it said 75. SEVENTY FIVE? Holy crap. That is alot! I tell Chris, he says, "get out of the basement Monica". So I do.

"We have to call 911", Chris and I think alike. Mom and dad say there is no need to because its nothing. Nothing?? Why would the alarm sound for nothing? Again we tell them, "we have to call the fire department! we're going to die! we'll wake up dead tomorrow morning if we go to sleep like this". At this point, the alarm is not screaming anymore due to the windows letting in fresh air. But still we had to get out of the house. You would think, right? No. Mom wanted a clean house for the fire fighters to come into. The beds had to be made. The clothes folded. Nothing could be messy. YES! It's crazy! We're being poisened and all she could think of is having a clean house? Can you say Danny Tanner? The detector in the basement started screaming the same song the first one had started. And then there were two.

At approximately 1 hour after the event began, 911 was called. As Chris pressed the number 9, followed by two one's, we all watched, waiting to hear the words. "Close the windows, close the doors, and get out now!", he says. Upon shutting all the windows and doors, I grab the dog, put a jacket on, wear my shoes, and depart the house. Chris follows. Dad follows.. wait a second, where's mom? Taking her time. Again I tell you, it's a matter of life and death here. We get her out finally and into the garage we go to wait for the firemen. The firemen arrive in less than 5 minutes from the time the call was made.... one... two... three... four...firemen... and one firewoman. They get inside the house and begin searching for the culprit. The gas called carbon monoxide. Rewind. Before they got in, they asked us if we were OK, if we had any sign of nausea or an unusual feeling. We were fine, just caught up in all the suspense.

I call E and tell him the news. He was in the car driving home from Ikea. I expected him to sound worried but luckily he wasn't. I was worried as I thought I had breathed in the silent killer. Many minutes later, the firepeople come out and tell us everything was alright. Some papers were signed saying our house is good to go. What a scare. All that... for nothing. But a great story to tell, eh? I could however tell you how the detectors got mixed up. As one fireman explained it, "it could be from the wine some people make in their homes. The boiling results in ..." I can't say the rest because I am not technically inclined to do so.

For this my friends, was a lesson. A lesson we must all follow because you never know what the outcome will be. This is why you must call 911 at the ring of an alarm, because you are playing with the silent killer if you don't. We waited for an hour to do so, sadly, because the house wasn't ready. And those of you who know my mom, know that my house is always clean because it is cleaned everyday of the week. Back to my lesson, call 911 because at least you'll feel better knowing you are safe. At least you can go to bed and not wonder whether or not you'll wake up the next day.

Papa Roach On Tour Now!

who are the fab 4 you ask? well my bridesmaids ofcourse.
just four of them out of 7 tried on the dresses for the first time last night. and boy were they all razzle dazzle.
i cant wait till june!

the picture to your right is actually the woman who modelled the dress, but my girls look SO much better in it. i took pix but im not posting them here. they look too good and someone just might.. actually they would.. stalk them. hehe :)

now i hope the other three like the dresses as much as the first four!

in person, the turquoise is much more vivid, shinier and smashing! the brooch is gold with turquoise studs. oh don't mention it... i know... it's a nice dress :)

dreams... do they really mean anything?
i sure hope not because a really bad one just made me not wanna go back to sleep tonight. clutching my stuffed spongebob that teddy won for me at wonderland two summers ago, i get out of bed, tip toe-ing to the washroom because i didn't want to wake kiko up after a bad dream. i had to throw cold water on my face. it sort of worked. well actually scratch that out, spongebob had nothing to do with this because he was thrown onto the floor due to my panic attack dream. anyway, you get the picture. it was a bad dream. we all hate those things. i woke up cold sweating, my covers were turned inside out, my head almost at the railing of the bed, my legs shaking like a fish out of water. not pretty at 3AM. oh good! kiko's snoring.. i'm glad he's enjoying his dreams, all snug is his little bed. he's got me for protection against the grim dreamer reaper. but who do i have? teddy.. but he's all the way in his bed. hmpff. i only have the things that remind me of him to keep me steady. my ring. my stuffed toys. my perfume. my memories. i would really like to go back to bed now. i'm in bed and the heat coming from the laptop is making me crave sleep. why? i dunno. the warmness feels good after being awakened by a cold, cold dream. but i cant go to bed! what if i see the same exact dream? what if it comes back to haunt me? what if it needs to be played out still? what if it wasn't done? be strong! you're not 5. yah but when i was five i had the permission to run into mommy and daddy's room. not anymore.. i'm a big girl now. infact society tells me i'm a woman so i ought to behave like one at times like these. ok i shall turn my pillow over to the other side and see if i could catch my zzz's again. hopefully you won't be hearing from me again tonight.
.... am i sleeping now? is this a dream? hehe i hope not... i wouldn't want to be blogging in my sleep. is this the matrix? ok OK! i'll sleep already. g'nite world.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4l2UUueH5Q


my nephew matt showed me this video and i just died laughing :)

he can't keep a straight line in this costume. but he loves it!
Kiko --> "can I get some ketchup please?"

The haloween costume he can actually take a walk in.

I'd love to play the glam woman with a dark past, running down the train platform in heels with a little dog under one arm and a round tiny suitcase in the other, just like in an old black and white film. As I step up to enter the train, I’d fling the dog in, hold the tiny round suitcase to my heaving chest and glance up under my black hat, the one with the feathers on, searching the platform with my mascara-heavy eyes to ensure I’ve not been followed. I’d take my seat in the carriage, sit the dog – let’s call him Kiko - at my feet as the train chuffed out of the station, smoke billowing, guards yelling. As the train slowly pulls away from the station, an old school police car screams to a halt at the station entrance and five cops run down the platform peering into the windows of each train, each carriage, searching for the woman who’s already hidden behind her newspaper, on her way to another town, on another secret mission.
If only VIA RAIL could oblige me in my fantasy then I really wouldn’t mind paying the price of a month’s mortgage on a train ticket north. The reality of a VIA
RAIL trip is expensive, noisy and they don't always sell skittles. I book my ticket weeks in advance to get a seat in the quiet coach to read, to think, only to end up with headphones on and music cranked up to blank out the noise when the shoosh-bang-shoosh starts from Ipods-a-go-go in the seat ahead and “I’m on the train” on the mobile phone from the one behind. If I feel another secret mission coming on sometime soon, Kiko and I might just have to take the bus.

*** That's a lie, I have not booked any tickets to go on the train any time soon. This was all just for my little vision of a short story purpose. I've only been on the train once-- to Belleville.

Looking at my computer screen, while typing around 80 words a minute trying to write something productive... I can't. I just can't think of anything to write right now. Writer's block? Quite possibly... although I don't call myself a writer. I'm just a blogger.

Graduate of York with two diplomas ----> is ME!
B.A. in Fine arts, and also a certificate in Digital Media. Oh yeah, baby!
Thank you sooo much to my family for all the wonderful gifts I got!!!

This past Sunday, my parents and I visited Teddy's new house, to have dinner with his family. It was such a great night, and I am so happy with the outcome. We all bonded and grew closer to eachother. Two families are becoming one. Who woulda thunk it?

Ohhhhh you know what I've totally forgotten to write about? My bro's best friend George has been talking about this movie that is coming out.. its called 300. It's about the Persian-Greek war. And the movie is going to be good. He told us about this quite a long time ago but now the word about it is starting to spread and its getting me even more excited. Go see it because I say so!

Tonight my teddy weddy is coming over for dinner and then we're going to head out for a little while. We're thinking of going to the mall, because its been a while since we've gone shopping.

I can't wait until Thursday because my maids are coming over. Not all of them, unfortunately. They are going to try on the dresses that I bought for the wedding. I'm sure they will all look great in turquoise. I soooo hope they like the dresses. They came all the way from the US. Hahahhahaa man, I've ordered everything from there. Speaking of ordering, I just bought my bridal shoes last night from Aldo the online store. Last pair they had too :) I might even post it because I am so in love with them. Well not as much as I am in love with teddy... hehe. But damn are they sweet.

Anthony still hasn't gotten back to us yet about our engagement shoot. We didn't get the pix back and I am pretty upset about it. E has called and e-mailed but no response. I think its a little weird.. actually its bad because like... we took about 30 pictures that day at York... and its taking this long to get the proofs.. now imagine this. On our wedding day, we're probably going to take a gazillion pictures... jeez! we'll get them just in time for our 1st wedding anniversary!!


attention fellow TIGers..... how would i go about posting several pictures on one blog post? it wont work :( pleeease lemme know. thanks!

During breakfast today I noticed a brown spot in the middle of the watery yellow egg yoke. I was about seven when I first came across this phenomenon, and my mother had poked at the spot with a teaspoon while explaining how this spot should have become a grown chicken, scarring my young fragile mind forever: You mean that even the egg selection process is flawed in that fertilised eggs may accidentally make it to the breakfast table? Mum... HOW COULD YOU BRING ME INTO SUCH A WRETCHED WORLD.

Many years ago, after a family trip to a flea market, we brought home fresh chicken eggs. I wanted one to miraculously hatch so badly that all the way home in the car I cupped it in my warm hands. Sadly, the moment I left the room, my mother removed the egg from the nest of tissue I had made in my bag, relocating the egg to the refrigerator. By the time I realised what she had done she had already, to my horror, cracked the egg open to reveal... a half-formed chick. The worst thing was seeing for myself that it already had a beak and wings and legs and eyes and... and its fragile body was a limp crescent. My parents explained how some people viewed this as a delicacy (BARBARIANS!), I cried for hours.

(BARBARIANS!)
(BARBARIANS!)
(BARBARIANS!)

When I was 12, on a family trip to Greece, I stayed over at my cousin's, and after I spotted that familiar brown spot in an egg during breakfast one day I had refused to eat anything as a sort of penance for being the cause of the death of a potential chicken. And my cousin, in my eyes, fell from grace to become the very incarnation of Evil. He would usually toss snacks my way in the afternoons, but even potato chips would not entice me into accepting He Who Is Evil.

By the second day of my hunger strike Evil was at its wit's end and finally resorted to bacon. My goodness... BACON!, people! The cynical aspect of my worldview can be dated back to that afternoon ten years ago when Evil tortured me by waving a strip of bacon in my face, and I sold my soul to the devil. Before I could kiss the sweet, sweet bacon, though, the devil played his own advocate: He grimaced and cautiously warned me, "If you eat this, you will die." He paused. I was 12. I was horrified. He continued, "But if you don't eat this... You will also die." So I ate the damned thing.

rain is only good when you are indoors. there is nothing better than being on the sofa and watching movies as you eat icecream. especially when you consider the alternative - i am of the opinion that thunderstorms here are genetically modified - umbrellas don't help, a slight chance of rain leads to lightening storms and it is a guarantee that if you spend five minutes outside you shall be drenched beyond belief.

the one that disturbs me the most is the lightening. i swear it looks just like the one you used to see in illustrations of "childrens' bible stories" to show the wrath of God ... you'd better believe that everytime i'm out in the rain i become very afraid and start with all my hail mary's. hahhaha NOT... but it sounds funny doesn't it? paranoia also kicks in, because i start wondering if that little metal thingy at the top of the umbrella can really conduct electricity.

moving swiftly along. matt and ash are coming over 2nite! yayy i miss those munchkinz. matt scored a goal in his last hockey game... and so did mats!! his 500th.. yup yup... hockey world is doing lovely. i miss my tedddyyyyyyy. gunna see him 2morrow.. were going shopping :) and 2nite.. were having a persian food fest YUM!

yah yah you know the rest of the rhyme well.

its raining on my side of the planet.

Okay, I don't mean to whine but this isn't exactly the fall I was expecting after such a wonderful summer. It's just bitter and ugly. Why aren't the leaves turning the nice gold that they do. It's mid october almost. This annoying drizzle has got to stop.