Found this via Reddit. It took me a moment to get it but this is a very good ad.

omg!

ALso found this interesting article about islamic women and mosques from the NYT.

Give the woman a break already!

Seriously, she's got some real crap to deal with and she's got stupid ass paparazzi following her around everywhere, even to the freaking gas station in the middle of the night.

She's probably embarassed that her first marriage turned out to be a huge mistake. when you realise you've made a fool of yourself in the public eye by marrying someone everyone else could see was a total ass, you kind of want to have some time to sort that out, or alternately, do something that wipes that shame out of your consiousness for a while. Spears went and partied. Everyone self-medicates in one manner or another, it's just too bad that Ms. Spears decided that hanging with Hilton and forgetting her panties was a good option. But she's in a bad head-space. If the head-shaving incident isn't a gigantic cry for help, then I don't know what is. I hope she gets it. Really I do. White trash pop star fame aside, she is human being and a mother and it's time she had a moment to step back, clear her head and get her priorities straight and she really can't do that with cameras shoved in her face 24-7.

Woke up Wednesday morning to a freaked out Cinderella. She came racing into the bathroom and made an attempt to get up on the side of the tub, slipped off and sprawled inside for a moment before making herself as small as possible on the edge closest to me. I finished washing up and scooped her up and she immediately had my neck in a death-grip and her head shoved as far into my neck as she could. Thankfully she didn't use her claws. The other cat, meanwhile was draped over the back of the couch like a doily, not a care in the world. (Sometimes I wish my brain were like hers: too small for anything but the most immediate concerns.) Cinder had no wish to be set down and I ended up having to give her to J so I could get dressed for work. She actually snuggled on his chest for a good half-hour, but I don't think she left the bedroom until I got home after work. To this day, I've still not got a clue what had her so spooked.

Wednesday was Valentines day and the boss-lady got a flower delivery from her hubby. The delivery guy gave me an odd look when I told him to leave them on the counter. Hey, I'm not some stupid chick to let some random dude off the street into our back room for a stupid thing like flowers. (Oh I talk about how temporary flowers are, but I'm full of hot air. I'm a romantic at heart - hopelessly so!) It wasn't that long ago that some girl at a check-cashing place made that mistake and got shot for being gullible. I have to think about that shit here.

Yesterday and Thursday consisted of much running back and forth at work, moving boxes of crap and packing said boxes for shipment to head office and watching men with more muscle than brains move 3000 lbs of safe back and forth.

Thursday we went for dinner with Little E after work to celebrate her 24th birthday. made me think about what number I'll have this year. I'm almost freeping 30 for fuck sakes and what have I got to show for it? A piece of paper on the wall and a lot of cat hair. That's what.

J has gone for over 4 weeks without a cigarette. I am very proud of him for this. I think it will start showing in the next little while in his health. No more tight chest or breathlessness. No more weird cramps. Maybe even fewer headaches and less stomach problems. (Smoking for 23 years is a fucking looong time.) He has cranky moments here and there. Was moody and quiet last night, but not too sure whether that was because he had no patch or because he was dreading having to get up at 2am for work. Yeah. 2am. Fuckers. He spent a good hour before bed perusing the job sites. Set me warning bells off, that. But I read my book and kept my mouth shut.

If there's anything I've learned it's that you can't help people unless they want to be helped. Nor offer advice unless they want it. Also, that people hear what they want to hear, and believe what they want to believe (for one of two reasons: because they're afraid something is true, or because they want it to be true.) now matter how many words you throw at them. You can argue yourself blue, but the other person won't listen or take to heart anything you throw at them unless they want to.

listening to: Kosheen - Pleasure
quote of the day: "every life should have nine cats"
reading: Song of Ice and Fire book 2: A Clash of Kings - George R. R. Martin (again)

and I'm wearing Christmas socks.

So there.

This is not something that's supposed to happen in my Victoria. Not here where the worst thing to happen in the last few years was when some drunk git knifed another git downtown over a dime bag. But I digress...

J and I were playing some Saturday WoW, as is our custom, when we heard sirens outside. This in itself is not all that unusual, since there have been a few car chases of late. But those usually pass by and fade in the distance.

Not this time. They were LOUD and there were so many of them and then there was this rattling sound that for an instant I thought was fireworks. But only an instant. I was out of my seat and at the window in a heartbeat. 'What was that?" I heard myself say, knowing already. 'Get down' J said, his only response. But I couldn't. I had to see.

When I peeked out of the curtains the first thing I saw was the lights - they stabbed into my eyes, red/blue and then the white SUV pinned between the telephone pole in the corner and a blue ghost-car. Two 'civilian' cars were jackknifed (nose to tail) where they'd skidded to a halt as another ghost-car had swerved in front of them to help force the white vehicle off the road. Three cop cars down below and several more above and I see the black shape of one of the cops from the blue car crouched near the back of the SUV with his weapon drawn. The firecracker sounds are gone, but there's a lot of shouting. Another man, don't know if it was the driver of the blue car or not, approached the driver side of the SUV with his weapon drawn and peer inside. He shouts and weapons vanish back wherever they came from.

I darted into the bedroom to see if I could see anything better, but the wall from the balcony was in the way so I darted back. Someone is peering into the interior of the SUV with a flashlight. There's a general milling around of cops, and one started roping off the area with yellow tape, wrapping it around phone poles and signs. Another directs the civilian cars off to the side - it's obvious they're not going anywhere. The woman who'd been in the bus stop is also told not to go anywhere. More cars arrive and an ambulance, which one cop holds the tape up for. A paramedic in the ambulance slides the tape over the lights and the ambulance zips up just past the SUV and disgorges a gurney. They can't get the driver door open. One cop reefs on the door so hard the whole vehicle rocks. They zip around to the other side and it takes what looks like four cops and a 'medic to yank the guy out the passenger side and strap him in the gurney. They zip him into the ambulance and close the doors with a paramedic inside. Then there's more waiting and another van pulls up, this one with 911 painted on the side. 'The Coroner,' J says. 'Could be' I mutter. He peeks inside the ambulance, then closes the door, slaps the vehicle's side and it turns carefully with all the milling police, and then races off towards the general hospital, lights and sirens blaring.

A young fresh-faced cop is going around the perimeter taking names and asking who's seen what. He takes our names and the names of everyone hanging off their balconies. It's not a half-hour later that another does the same thing, this one taller, older, a little more hard-bitten than the first, and with a strange strip of beard on his chin. The cops are all over the place with their flashlights, running them over the sides of the buildings across the way, the trees, looking for bullets and casings. Little yellow flags appear on the road for casings, red for glass and tire treads, because there are less of those.

I step back to the computer to let the people I'd been playing with know that we were still there. One asks if we're ok when J tells them what happened. Another replies that he thinks so, or we'd not have come directly back to the computer. Smartass-ness ensues.

There's a knock at our door and our guard-kitties go into growl-mode. The cop with the weird beard asks us if we'd give a statement. Of course, he asks in a way that's really a command. We really have little choice, even though we saw so little. He says we can go to the station the next day, since there were so many witnesses.

The there's a strange wrenching metal sound. There's a fire truck outside and they're pulling out the giant feet that stabilize it when they're using the crane. Two even climb up onto the truck to get things ready. 'They're going to what, take aerial photos?' I say. J shrugs. He goes to bed.

This morning, they've put a tarp over the SUV as it's raining. I hear from J, who's gone to work that the chase started when the suspect shot a cop not six blocks from here. This would explain the car-smashery and the tons of little yellow flags all over the road.

My street is closed from one major intersection to the next. There are still cops out there, canvassing, patrolling. There's a green milk crate on the hood of the blue car. I imagine there's useful stuff in there for the forensics people, which some of these probably are.

Tonight we'll go give our statements.