centre of the universe - the dreaming

I love you all. You know that, because I tell you all the time.

Buddy Holly, you were my first boyfriend. Coincidentally, you were also my first dead boyfriend. You know what? I'm not going to harp on little imperfections like not having a pulse.

What can I say to you, Johnny Depp? Oh! A little lower, please.

Gary Oldman, I never wanted to have to do this, but...it's just not working out. I will always think fondly of you, and we'll always have Sid and Nancy. I just...I've moved on. And really, what did you expect? You haven't returned my calls in years. And, since you'll probably ask anyway (yes, I do know you that well), I AM seeing someone else. Hugh Laurie. He and I share a birthday (on the BEST DAY OF THE YEAR), and, well...he's FUNNY, Gary. He plays piano. Have you even ever SEEN his work with Stephen Fry? Yeah. Well. Not to mention in Blackadder. I think it's hilarious, for the record, that someone who played predominantly awkward twits in Britain is cast as a brilliant dickhead in the States. Anyway, Gary Oldman...that's why you haven't heard from me lately. It's because I'm with Hugh Laurie now. If y'all feel the need to engage in an EPIC CAGE-MATCH BATTLE over me, let me know. I'll wear something more comfortable.

I know you and I have known about each other for a long time, Keith Moon, but it's really been in the last couple of years that we've been getting serious about each other. And, just let me say, you make me *very happy*.

Wolverine, you're beautiful. No one could ever replace you. And that thing you can do in Yoga because of your skeleton made of SOLID ADAMANTIUM...well, this public forum isn't the place, but suffice it to say...wow.


You and I have spent many, many sleepless nights together, Neil Gaiman, and I think it's obvious to everyone that as my International Literary Boyfriend, you have quite a big responsibility in our relationship. I'm not difficult to please, as you know; just remember, I'm not going to kick you out of bed for eating crackers, so please bring the tasty onion-flavoured ones next time you're by.

Robert Kroetsch and Donald Sutherland, as my Canadian Literary and Canadian Performing Arts Boyfriends, I expect the two of you to get along. Donald, just sit nicely while Robert reads; Robert, Donald would do a Wonderful treatment of voicing your work. Also, I think both of you do the chess?

Now, the main reason I've mentioned all of you is because i have something to tell you. It shouldn't surprise you, and it certainly doesn't change anything between us.

His Nibs is pretty much unsurpassingly awesome. I love hanging out with him (you'll know that, Keith and Johnny, because you've spent time with us together. **Think what you will, dear reader.**), and he pretty much rocks. Even when he's being a jerk, I love him. You know when you have friends and they get in to a new relationship, and they're all annoying and smoodgy and snuggly and disgustingly cheerful all over the place? Yeah. Well. I kind of turn in to a brainless teenage girl around His Nibs most of the time. Until he pisses me off.

Anyway, yeah. Doesn't change anything. I just wanted to make sure you understand that while I love each and every one of you, His Nibs is my HUSBAND.

We can still make out, though.

Labels: Button Theory, His Nibs, living in a tree, strings

Labels: Christmas, His Nibs, More Chins Than A Chinese Phone Book, Pictures

The radio is blaring, sounds of car engines in the street trickle with early morning winter light into the bedroom. The children are stumbling bleary-eyed to the bathroom and back to get dressed. Sleepy choruses of "Happy Morning!" chime through the rooms.

His Nibs raises himself up on an elbow and says, "Good morning, love."

And gets punched in the chest.

"THAT," cenobyte growls, "is for making out in a bus with your friend's wife."

Poor His Nibs rubs his chest, his face a geography of confusion. Then cenobyte pokes him in the ribs.

"And THAT," cenobyte continues, "is for **not inviting me**. Jerk."

"Wh...but...wh...co...um..." His Nibs stammers.

"Yeah, whatever, bucko. Don't try making excuses NOW. It's too bloody late. Also: I love you."

It is at this point cenobyte usually storms out of the room because she realises how ridiculous it is for her to be *this mad* at someone for something they did *in a dream*. Sometimes, the vivid and remembery dreams are Just No Good. Thankfully, by now, His Nibs is starting to get used to it. Starting.

Labels: dreams, His Nibs

That September is going to be a crazy, bizarre month with lots of crazy, bizarre things happening. His Nibs and I were in Mexico, and we were staying at the same resort-on-the-sea. This time, though, the second time we'd been for a vacation, there were other folks there who went with us. We'd talked about that after we got back, about how we thought it would be quite a lot of fun to head to Mexico with a few other folks. There were good things and not so good things.

F'rinstance, when you travel with a group, there's always the concern that you have to stay with the group. At least, that's the concern that His Nibs had. We spent most of our time just hanging out at the condos or on the beach, which was fine...going for dinner and drinks...doing a few touristy things...but there's this pressure, you see, that if you want to lie on a beach and read, you'll be somehow being rude to the folks you've been travelling with.

Things like GenCon are great because there's so much to do, no matter what your buddies are doing. But...well...okay, that's a bad example, because there are always lots of things to do when you're Away. The trick is, you have to be willing to go off and do something on your own. Yours Truly is pretty used to doing things on her own, and so it's not such a big deal to split from the group and sleep on the beach all day. I don't think I insulted anyone, but it's difficult to know.

So anyway, I kind of decided to split from the group and hang out on the beach all day (have I mentioned how much I love beaches?), and then go for a walk in town. But when I went for a walk in town, I was suddenly reminded of the UofS campus. Mostly because that's where I was. It seems I'd decided to take a few classes, and the UofS handily had become some kind of centralised location with transporter or portal that Very Few People knew about (like, His Nibs and I and two of the four people we were with. Maybe it's only UofS alumni who can use the portal.

But, as often happens, the campus was wonky. Nothing was where it was supposed to be. In fact, it was really more like the University of Manitoba, which is a gorgeous campus. I was toodling around in the religious studies department, and found a Strange Thing - some windows built into a hill that looked in on a hall in the building. Cool, actually. I wondered if those were some of the tunnels.

Around the back (or front?) of the building, I remembered a dream I'd had where I'd spoken to someone who'd worked on the landscaping. He'd told me that there were religious symbols on every brick in the walk, religious imagery in every tree and shrub planted, and even the design of the path was in fact part of a mandala that could only be seen from the third-floor landing. I took note of the bricks; I was trying to figure out what symbols were on which bricks and what religious tradition they originated from. Then I heard shouting.

Glancing up, I saw a huge grey dog loping toward the Administration building. Someone screamed. I jogged up the steps and realised it wasn't a dog at all. it was a wolf. I ran across the lawn, to the landing in front of the building. Women were screaming as the wolf tore around the campus and sniffed and growled and bared its teeth. I stood on the concrete landing, watching. The wolf approached. A girl who used to date a good friend of mine told me to stay calm, that the animal protection people were coming. But the wolf wasn't aggressive, just determined.

I touched its shoulder. It turned around, licked my hand, whined, then put its paw in my hand. It looked at me with green and yellow eyes. Then, as strangely as it had come, it loped off again toward the field house.

I looked around, saw frightened and astonished faces. Suddenly, I was on the patio of the pub, and Neuba was there, and I knelt down beside her and sobbed, because I knew what the wolf had said to me. He'd come to tell me that His Nibs was dead. My phone rang, but I wouldn't answer it. I knelt there on the patio, and let Neuba hold me, because even had I wanted to, I could not do anything else.

Didn't much like this dream, to be honest. Nothing like waking up sobbing to set the tone for a day.

Labels: Bad Mojo, dreams, His Nibs

Stop me if you've heard this one:

It's fair, I suppose, for you to be cross with me. It's fair because it's not fair that the best family in the world is mine. I'm sorry; it's not something I planned. In fact, I'm not entirely sure how it happened. It's pretty easy to understand how the kids got to be so awesome. I mean, seriously. I cock.

But this is the thing, and I'm'a warn you here that there's some pretty mooshy stuff coming up...the thing is His Nibs.


So the deadly handsome guy in that photo is His Nibs. He's pretty amazing. In fact, he's *completely* amazing. Rumour has it that cenobyte is in love with him. Don't tell his wife.

Labels: His Nibs

I look at The Nipper's feet, which are *considerably* smaller than The Captain's were, and I think about the first day I met him. He was wrinkly and covered in vernix, and he had the world's most confused look on his face. His face was all smooshed up (so was yours when you made that, the shortest, and most important journey of your life...you can travel all over the world, deep under the sea, even into space, and you will never again make a journey like that one. You'll never travel such a great distance in so short of a space ever again) and he was Very Concerned.

I held his tiny hand, and smiled at his tiny feet, with his wee toes all splayed out. I said, "hello, baby." He said, "NNngggggeeeiiiiiiuuuuuaaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

I said, "We've been waiting an awfully long time to meet you."

He said, "guh, guh, guh, nnnnnggeeeuiiiiieeeuuugaaaaaahhhhh!!!"

I said, "welcome."

His Nibs said, "He's perfect. Just like you."

Labels: babies, feet, His Nibs, The Nipper