Whilst cleaning out a bunch of drawers this week, I discovered a tiny pot of cosmetic micro-sparkles, employed as part of a costume a few Hallowe’ens ago and never used again. I’m not a sparkle kind of gal.

Well, part of Project 2003 is to learn how to have fun again, so I scooped some of the powder up and dusted it all over my arms and throat. What the heck, right? I’m at home, after all.

It’s kind of quirky, and the sun outside catches it every once in a while, and I laugh at myself. So far, so good.

While I was in the living room getting a reference book, our little black kitten Nix hopped out of one of her hidey-holes behind a row of tomes and rubbed against my legs. I automatically bent down to pat her… and you know those micro- sparkles: even when you try to brush them off, a few still cling. Which means that they transfer to everything that you touch. For example, from my hands to her silky coat.

Voila – instant magic kitty. Here and there, glinting in the sun, there’s a tiny random point of light in the depths of her midnight fur, like stars.

She’s absolutely beautiful.

Okay, who let a seventies-throwback design the new Palais des congr�s de Montr�al? It looks like a kid built a house with a pile of Jolly Rancher candies.

Honestly. Does no one have taste any more?

Humph.

To reassure yourself than the mind of man is actually capable of creating beauty, go see the Varna: World’s First Gold, Ancient Secrets exhibit at the Pointe-a-Calli�res Museum of Archaeology and History in Old Montreal. Wonderful collection of goldwork and art from the area of Varna, a.k.a. Odessos, on the western shore of the Black Sea. Submerged by rising sea levels due to global warming not once, but twice – then struck by drought. Can you imagine? One of the most fertile areas in Europe, rendered uninhabitable for a good chunk of time until the Thracians came along and said, “Hey, this looks good for a headquarters while we try to unite the clans,” never knowing that there were huge necropoli under the hills, or what amounted to a graveyard under the waves. The Greeks liked it too, and the Romans thought it a funky vacation spot as well. Like the rest of Europe. (Love those Romans, conquering without raising a harsh word. “No, no, we wouldn’t dream of attacking you. Mind if we put a temple here and a garrison over there – since we’re friends and all?”)

Anywhats. If you’re in the area, and need a quiet stroll through some lovely samples of hostorical art and craftwork, do stop by. The exhibit isn’t overwhelmingly huge, and will only take you perhaps an hour to go through it. In fact, it’s terribly relaxing, what with the constant sound of gentle waves, and a lovely soft light created by the masses of translucent blue fabric flowing through the middle of the exhibit room. Worth the money.

From Neil Gaiman’s blog:

Have you ever noticed that your writers have changed? Semi-serious question. You�ll spend six months in a romantic comedy, then you turn around one day and you’re in a ghost story or a medical thriller, or you spend a year in a kitchen sink, grittily realistic drama and then, without warning, your life turns into a sitcom…

It�s always sudden. It often happens with a bang. Ah, I think, when that happens to me. New writers…

Yes. Yes, that’s it, exactly.

Sigh.

Whoa! This is a surprise!

Harry Potter’s getting a brand new headmaster–and his name isn’t Ian McKellen.

May I say, “I told you so?”

Except… it seems that the headmaster will not be played by any of the gents whose names were bandied about:

Following Harris’ death from cancer in October, there had been much speculation over who would take over the role, with leading candidates supposedly including McKellen and even Harris’ stand-in. But McKellen never seriously considered the role (he’s already done the franchise thing with The Lord of the Rings and X-Men) and producers ultimately went with [Michael] Gambon, a classically trained actor who studied with Laurence Olivier and whose credits include Gosford Park, The Insider and the lead in the British miniseries The Singing Detective.

Well, well, well. Michael Gambon. This will be very, very interesting…

(Thanks, Ginger Girl!)

For everyone who’s worrying about font, I’m tweaking the template in preparation for moving to another host. Things will be looking different now and again, and changing possibly frequently. Courage, loyal readers!