Armchair Anthropology

Let's sloooow things down for a minute.

2010-07-25T16:49:00.000-07:00

One of my favourite websites, Sociological Images, posted a link today to the following documentary from the 1970s, titled "Ways of Seeing".

As I began watching the documentary, I found myself growing impatient with what I felt was an incredibly lugubrious pace, and could imagine my contemporaries having a good laugh at the video with its seemingly awkward, long pauses.

However, it occurred to me a few minutes in that perhaps the video was proceeding at a perfectly reasonable pace, but that most of us have become so used to being continuously bombarded with sights and sounds and information, that extra time to process information seems strange, maybe even inefficient.

Thus enlightened, I was able to put aside my irritability and appreciate the content of the documentary, which turned out to be fantastic indeed. Let's all sloooow down and enjoy the show.

Summer-induced nostalgia

2010-07-13T14:10:00.000-07:00

When my younger sister was really little- maybe three years old or so- she had a most amusing way of sitting down when wearing a dress.

First, she would hold the corners of her dress, as though about to perform a curtsy:

Then, she would lift up the bottom half of the dress entirely, exposing her tushy to the world:

And finally, she would sit down, bum fully in contact with the seat:

This whole motion was carried out smoothly, and without a trace of self-consciousness.

Now that it's quite hot out, I find myself wearing skirts often, and whenever I am about to sit down, I remember my little sister and giggle to myself.

On Canada's annual period of introspection

2010-07-01T17:17:00.000-07:00

Here we go again.

July 1st, Canada Day.

I know, I know, today of all days, I should put aside my cynicism and just enjoy the day, right? But I can't! (I'll blame it on a traumatic childhood incident...or something.)

I like Canada Day...a lot! Actually, it's my second favourite holiday after Thanksgiving. However, every year without fail, on the days leading up to July 1st, and on the day itself, the nation's media outlets work themselves into an unbecoming frenzy, attempting to "define" what makes Canada so awesome. This annual introspection (or navel-gazing as I like to call it) is exactly the opposite of awesome. It has about it the juvenile stench of seeking acceptance, of trying too hard.

Today's Globe and Mail, for example, boasts the following headline: "The Year Canada Grew Up"

The author, Patrick Brethour, claims in his commentary that at the age of 143, Canada may now call itself a mature country. Why? Well, we had the Winter Olympics in Canada this year, you know! We held the G8/G20 summits here! We developed a global-maternal health initiative! The Prime Minister finally offered an apology to the families of the Air India attack victims!

Let's take a closer look at all these supposedly fantastic events. Hosting the Winter Olympics and the G8/G20 summits shows that we spent scads of taxpayers' money this year on impressing the world. (Did it work? Is Obama finally going to invite Harper over for a sleepover?) Many of the actual Olympics events were overshadowed by whinging about how few medals Canada won, while the G8/G20 summits showed off an eerily empty Toronto framed by arguably mismanaged police deployment.

Discussion of the G20 leads to that of the global maternal health initiative, on which, let's be frank, most of Harper's own team was unclear (wait, are we funding contraception or not?) Anyone who thinks that this initiative will actually make a lasting, positive impact need only look at the dozens of initiatives and treaties and pacts and pinky swears of summits past that lie covered in cobwebs to realize that optimism for this new initiative is naive.

And lastly...Stephen Harper's apology to families of victims of the Air India tragedy. That it took so. many. freaking. years for the Canadian government to finally recognize these families as Canadians wronged by their own government and deserving of acknowledgement, apologies, compensation, SOMETHING, should be a point of national embarassment. Harper's apology may mark a turning point in the ongoing Air India story, but let us not confuse it for an event that helped Canada to "mature."

I recently read a book called "More Money than Brains", in which author Laura Penney says of her university students and certain public figures, "Anything that happened before [they] were born is part of the same undifferentiated mass." I would suggest that Brethour is guilty of similarly treating everything prior to 2010 as "an undifferentiated mass".

Many events of note have happened in the years prior to this one- the silliest statement to ever be made- but the fact that Brethour attaches more importance to those of 2010 could be indicative of any number of things, ranging from the possibility that events of this past year indeed are MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANYTHING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO DATE IN CANADIAN HISTORY (which, if you can't tell, I doubt,) to Brethour having given up marijuana and embraced a more clear-headed lifestyle in early 2010.

Now that I have sufficiently depressed/enraged/bedazzled you (man, my blood sugar is quite low from all that typey-typey-thinkey-thinkey), let me tell you the things that actually make me eternally grateful to live in Canada.

Being able to write this blog with utter freedom; being able to read whatever I want; an abundance of food and water; less right-wing lunatics than the U.S.; receiving free medical treatment for anything from the littlest stomach ache to full-on gunshot wounds; Canadian literature; the CBC; and...many many more things that I appreciate on a daily basis and don't need to rattle off here.

Now, let's stop the navel gazing, and enjoy the fireworks. Happy Canada Day to all my fellow Canadians!

Friends in high places

2010-06-23T19:09:00.001-07:00

However, here is someone who does take credit for the earthquake:

Her name is Lavinia, and she is a scary woman, but if I keep on her good side, all should be well.

Look at those eyes and tell me she didn't do it.

Earthquake? So I'm not just losing it? Phew.

2010-06-23T18:26:00.000-07:00

As all Canadians know, Toronto is the centre of the universe. Well, I must inform you that an earthquake took place at the centre of the universe today, and disrupted life for approximately eight seconds.

I, personally, did not realize it was an earthquake until a fellow building resident (aka neighbour) asked me if I had felt the earthquake.

"Oh, is that what it was?!" I asked, incredulously.

In all seriousness, I had attributed the moving and shaking to my imagination or low blood sugar. At one point in those eight seconds, I even thought, "Maybe it's really windy out," and continued reading my book.

Learning the truth was a relief- I'm not crazy or physically ill!- but I was also surprised at how readily I had taken credit for an earthquake (only a small one, but still.)

The end is nigh

2010-05-11T06:53:00.000-07:00

Thank you, Globe and Mail, for this incredibly nuanced visual:

(click to enlarge)

Perhaps yesterday's "Africa" edition (with contributions from such intellectual heavyweights as Christie Turlington and Carla Sarkozy) wasn't cringe-worthy enough.

The BEST thing EVER

2010-05-08T08:10:00.000-07:00

I am a little upset that this event is being held at the mall where I work, on my day off:

This is so unbelievably hilarious, I don't even know where to begin my commentary. Are the races broken down by weight? By age? By ambulatory ability? Are babies going to arrive sporting headbands and carpet burns from weeks of practice? Do the prizes include reserved spots at prestigious daycares?

All I can say is...AMAZING.

Spanx this

2010-05-07T06:57:00.000-07:00

As a woman with a body fat percentage in the double digits (gasp!), I feel that I'm supposed to embrace Spanx like any good, self-conscious woman. However, I'm of the mindset that my clothes should make me look good, and not the other way around. A revolutionary concept, non?

Anyhow, here is a picture similar to one that appeared in the Globe and Mail today, in an article on how far feminism has not come:

Couldn't Spanx at least make an effort to find some women on whom wearing Spanx might actually make a physical difference? I highly doubt that the model shown is in need of any sausage casing to hide her non-existent fat deposits.

And now take a look at this height of stupidity:

That's right, pregnant women! Your fat should be distributed just so! Be ashamed no more! Look like the perfect, holy vessel of miracles that you are. Encase yourself and your baby in a thin layer of spandex! (Good luck peeing.)

A letter

2010-05-05T18:48:00.000-07:00

Dear future offspring,

Every month, I (quite seriously) consider having my uterus removed because of the wretched beast that is my menstrual cycle. But, I endure the waves of nausea and debilitating pain, because I am expecting you, future offspring, to be cute and smart and loving and take care of me when I am old.

Okay? Don't ever forget my sacrifices.

Love,

Mumsy, QoT

May Day, or another day at work for me

2010-05-03T06:23:00.000-07:00

On May 1st, synonymous with International Workers' Day in many countries, citizens took to the streets of cities across the globe to rally for better working conditions. Having become incrementally more lefty every year since the end of high school, I would have loved to attend this protest, but instead spent the day at my full-time retail job at a company that I shall lovingly call Winkleskeet Inc.

Winkleskeet Inc. is a relatively new company that promised to be different. Employees will be adequately compensated! they said. You will love your job and will provide excellent customer service as a result! they said. Born a cynic, I did not believe a word of this (paying me 50 cents an hour above minimum wage can yield only mediocre customer service at best,) but clapped along with everyone else at the initial team-spirit-corporate-rah-rahs in order to not call attention to myself.

And guess what! Winkleskeet has failed me and my coworkers, and sooner than I could have possibly imagined. I am paid a barely liveable wage. If it were not for the fact that my sister pays all our rent (in exchange for groceries and Sunday sister-snuggles), I would be positively destitute. Winkleskeet does not operate on commission, meaning that I am stressed out, grumpy, and dealing with the worst aspects of humanity for eight hours a day (sometimes without breaks for we are that busy and that inadequately staffed) for very little reward.

There are those that would argue that this is my own doing; after all, I used to be an engineer earning an annual salary that is absolutely disgusting compared to the pittance I earn now. I left the country to travel and wander for a few months, and returned during the recession, when obtaining a decent job was a wet dream for most. Granted, I did not throw out any muscles on my job hunt, seeing how I abhor engineering (not the field in general, but as a career fit for me) and I took my time to find a relatively simple job that would act as a nice stop-gap between careers.

This relatively simple job has turned out to be like an onion, with each alternate layer either a blessing or a nightmare. The blessings are the very excellent friends I've made, learning to make do with less (what on earth was I spending my money on two years ago?) and to hold my own against people who attempt to bully me. The nightmares are some of these people who bully me, elevated blood pressure (I haven't measured it, but it sure feels higher), and not receiving the full amount of my paycheque on payday.

There are times when I find myself thinking, "Well, it's a shitty retail job. What was I really expecting?", but I have to stop myself, because this is a very snobby, highbrow judgement. I am luckier than many: I have family who will support me through these times, I have an amazing job awaiting me in September (in Europe, no less!), I have a significant amount of savings from my previous employment, and I have the education, the confidence, and the support to eventually leave this job and develop a rewarding career. But what about others who may not be so lucky? What about those who rely on this job to pay their rent and to buy their groceries due to their life circumstances? What about immigrants whose skills are not recognized in this country and are forced to undertake work for which they are overqualified? Should they not be adequately compensated for the (grueling) work that they do? Do they not deserve to rest on statutory holidays like all upper middle class folks?

The argument that people who wish to live a comfortable lifestyle should seek the education required to earn such a salary is a flawed one. If everyone were to become bankers, engineers, doctors, lawyers, etc, who would sell groceries and other things we expect to be able to purchase 24/7? Who would manage our apartment buildings and run daycares? All these services that we consider to be vital should not be treated merely as short term jobs from which everyone should seek to break free in order to achieve some distorted capitalist dream, but as perfectly respectable jobs which should allow employees to live healthy and sane lives, with decent housing, food, and vacation.

And that is my rant for today. Merci bonkers for reading.

Mary QoT

NEMESIS of 2010

2010-01-29T19:31:00.001-08:00

There is a older man at the gym who drives me bonkers!

His offenses include:

1. Wearing teeny tiny shorts from which his boxer-briefs are visible.
2. Performing 80s-style calisthenics (think Jane Fonda) and dangerous weight-lifting manouevres in said short shorts.
3. Exclaiming "I love that women work out now! It means I have something to look at!" to a fellow male gym-goer.

Ugh. No further comment necessary, methinks.

Back to blogging, with a new theme!

2010-01-13T08:44:00.001-08:00

I've decided to document things that make me despair for humanity, and the occasional thing that gives me hope!

Here is one of the latter:

Thoughts for the day

2009-12-13T08:06:00.001-08:00

I have not blogged in over a month now; for the last few weeks I have felt like the epitome of "zen" (which is not an acceptable word in Scrabble, by the way) and have been spending my free time knitting, reading, and savouring a feeling of utter contentedness. This contentedness is slowly wearing off as an urgency about making decisions for my future creeps up (back to university? or attempt to find a career-type of job?), but I've learned about one thing and hope to remember it throughout my life: the power of words.

I don't use the word "power" in the sense of hurting another person or yourself; rather I mean that one should choose one's words carefully in order to preserve their worth. I've discovered in the last month that most people talk far too much, about the utterly mundane or the negative, just to fill up time and space, thus reducing the worth of their words. Let's not even mention people who invent large words to make themselves sound more intelligent. Talking without thought and intent = waste of time and energy.

There are disadvantages to this new-found awareness. I find myself utterly bored with small talk, and barely try to make it, giving the impression that I am a snob or socially stunted somehow. The advantage, however, is that I cherish intelligent conversations as though they were precious jewels. A good conversation with someone can make my day. An intelligent conversation doesn't have to be about astrophysics or the meaning of life; I have had funny and interesting conversations on a variety of subjects, ranging from Virginia Woolfe to poo.

In our North American society of small talk, blowing one's own trumpet, and the desire to be charming and well-liked, considering the worth of words might seem somewhat new-agey and contrary to all the principles we are raised with. However, I urge you all to look around you and notice the people who speak a lot while saying little, and those who produce interesting gems now and again.

Yours zenfully,

Mary, Queen of Thoughts

Shudder!

2009-11-07T21:05:00.000-08:00

When I arrived at The Body Shop this morning to pick up some moisturizer, I was surprised to find the sales staff in bizarre outfits involving headbands and leg warmers. "Wasn't Halloween last weekend?" I thought to myself. But, as it turns out, the girls were dressed up to promote the resurrection of Body Shop favourites from the 80s.

I have but two comments:

1) Why on earth would anyone resurrect products from a decade associated with bad hair and Sally Hansen upper lip bleach? I am afraid that the use of any products from the 80s would instantly result in me looking like this:

2) The sales associate asked me which product from the resurrected line was my favourite. Let me point out that I am 25, and therefore, in the 80s my age ranged from zero to five years, and I did not use "products". The associate, however, was not a day over 20, and perhaps assumed that I was waaaaayyyy older.

Quite frankly, this line of products repulses me and is giving me horrible flashbacks to my early childhood. I predict that this marketing campaign will fail horribly. However, it may be that there are people who loved the 80s, and have just been depressed for 20 years since their favourite products were discontinued, and who will be very happy now. How does thinking about the 80s make you feel?

An egg for thought

2009-10-17T09:33:00.000-07:00

As I inspected an egg prior to its use in my Thanksgiving baking, I found myself imagining an odd scenario.

What if there were creatures larger than humans, who kept us in cages? What if, as female humans gave birth, the creatures came by, collected the newborn infants, packaged them in a cardboard tray, and sold them in some version of a supermarket? How strange that would be!

Today's random thoughts

2009-10-09T08:06:00.000-07:00

What's up with:

(a) Shooting a rocket at the moon? I'm sure it's well thought out, but it sounds like cah-razy talk to me. That's why I'm not a rocket scientist, I guess.

and

(b) Giving Obama the Nobel Peace Prize before he has accomplished anything of meaning? Are good intentions an adequate substitute now for actual results? If so, I've been wishing for the end of world poverty since the age of four. Give me a prize.

Quote of the Day

2009-10-04T16:28:00.000-07:00

"It is now possible for a flight attendant to get a pilot pregnant."

Richard J. Ferris, CEO of United Airlines, in the 1980s, when United became one of the world's first major carriers to recruit male flight attendants and female pilots.

(Taken from The Quotable Tycoon by David Olive)

Blaming Obama!

2009-10-04T08:57:00.001-07:00

On today's episode of Blaming Obama, I am going to blame him for:

My having forgotten to put the milk back in the fridge last night.
The crappy windy and rainy weather of late.
My lack of clean underwear. (There were two clean pairs there yesterday...where did they go? A liberal socialist nazi conspiracy? Must be.)
Yesterday's hangover

That is all for today. Join me next week, as I find more things for which I can blame U.S. president Barack Obama.

I love people-watching

2009-09-25T07:50:00.000-07:00

Especially on the subway train, where last night I saw a couple that looked EXACTLY like this, minus the pitchfork and wearing more modern (marginally) clothes:

What had made them so stern of appearance, I wonder?

A drawing I made a few years ago

2009-09-22T07:25:00.003-07:00

when I felt like my body was turning against me...

We want you!

2009-09-20T12:44:00.000-07:00

Do you think children are as irritating as fleas?
Do you think adults are also as irritating as fleas?
Do you feel superior due to your knowledge of the Dewey decimal system?
Do you like complaining and sighing loudly?

If you have answered yes to all these questions, you should work for the Toronto Public Library!
***

Okay, not all librarians are like this, just the woman I've nicknamed Smarmy McSmarmpants at one particular library I visited with Tanya Espanya.

Smarmy lectured me on not taking out books if I cannot return them to the correct branch (and then benevolently agreed to check in the book "just this time") and then sighed exasperatedly as Tanya's two-year old son, Alexander, removed bookmarks from a book display which I assume took Smarmy hours and hours to set up.

To round out the visit nicely, the library security guard attempted to instruct Alexander not to scream (apparently he has previously requested that Alexander stop running), and then followed me around, to make sure that I was not kidnapping Alexander.

Online newspaper? Shudder!

2009-09-15T08:20:00.000-07:00

I am full of woe.

My sister has cancelled our daily subscription to the Globe and Mail to save money, despite my teary protests. "Read it online," she says, but I know that the internet will never be an adequate substitute for holding a physical paper in my hands. I love everything about it- the crinkle of the pages, flipping through the freshly printed sections, doing the crossword, sudoku, and kenken puzzles over a morning coffee. Compare that to a glaring screen, inane comments beneath online articles, and ADD hyperlinking. *Sigh*

I don't care if this is the way of the future; I want none of it! If you support my wish to reinstate the subscription, send your petitions to my sister via this post.

Woefully yours,

Mary, Queen of Thoughts

Are you STILL single? Yeesh!

2009-09-09T05:46:00.000-07:00

Following are select suggestions from a chapter titled "101 Places to Meet Your Soul Mate" in John Gray's "Mars and Venus on a Date" (1997):

#11. Go to places where the numbers are in your favour. Women should go to places where many men are present and vice versa.

If this can be a workplace, so much the better. Ideally you'll find yourself overwhelmed with catcallers and whistlers. So many charmers to choose from!

#14. In a restaurant, a woman should get up several times and walk to the rest room so that a man has a chance to see her and be interested.

Or...he might wonder what's wrong with your bladder/bowels.

#28. If you are a democrat, visit a gathering or rally of republicans. Let them try to convince you of their point of view. This makes for great conversation and connection.

This might work...if they don't shout you down as a Nazi socialist and then shoot you.

#41. If you are not a morning person, get up earlier and go for a walk or jog and meet all the morning people.

Because nothing attracts like being miserable, grumpy and desperate.

#73. If you are a morning person, make the effort to go out and stay up late. The person for you may be a night owl or a party person who needs your stability.

I want to be able to mother my future partner.

#84. If you always park in a garage at work, try parking down the street and walking a distance to work. It is good exercise and you may meet new people.

New people asking for change?

#91. Be a tourist in your own town. Pretend that you are alone and from out of town. You will meet all kinds of people who want to share your town with them.

Umm...good luck explaining to your "soul mate" later that you've actually lived there for fifteen years.

#101. On an airplane, hang out near the rest rooms and strike up a conversation while waiting in line.

"Do you need to pee?"
"No, gotta take a dump."
"Me too. Awesome."

Garbage, drivel, and more garbage.

2009-08-17T16:59:00.000-07:00

The following is an excerpt from "How to be a Hepburn in a Hilton World" by Jordan Christy:

It’s no secret that we girls start fantasizing about a fairy-tale wedding and happily-ever-after love story around the same time we start teething (I still have a wedding book that I compiled at age six!). Relationships are a big deal to us. We want to hear all about our roommate’s new boyfriend, have to get every detail of our coworker’s upcoming nuptials, and lament right along with Jennifer Aniston over Brad Pitt as if he cheated on us. We love to watch TLC’s A Wedding Story, feverishly scan Us Weekly for the latest blossoming celebrity romance, and sob every time we see Sleepless in Seattle. We spend hours prepping ourselves for a date and even more time obsessing about what our potential children will look like and whether or not our initials mesh nicely. Conclusion: girls love love.

I never fantasized about a fairy-tale wedding as a child, and as an adult, I have come to abhor weddings for their complete superficiality. Listening to people talk about their upcoming nuptials bores me to death ("we've decided on BLUE ribbon! Aieeee!") and I certainly do not watch The Wedding Story on t.v. I couldn't give a rat's ass who Jennifer Aniston has been dating, and at no point in my life have I ever picked up a magazine at the grocery checkout to see which celebs have hooked up. I've never watched Sleepless in Seattle, and the only movie during which I've sobbed is The Lion King. I spend a good chunk of time horrified by the prospect of children (forget what they look like) and have never considered whether "our initials mesh nicely" because I have no intention of changing my name to that of my hypothetical future husband.

Christy also asserts that men want to do the chasing, and that we, as women, should put on pretty dresses and leave the men-folk to it. I'll just say that while many such men DO exist, I think they must have underlying caveman issues ("Me man, me find woman") and I have no interest in dating them. Why, I'd rather let my petrified ova fall out, one by one.

It's so nice that one can publish a book based entirely on one's own (vapid?) existence, while purporting to speak for all women. Sadly, this drivel will sell, and sell well. Tomorrow, I plan on starting MY book, titled, "How to be Smart in a Stupid World", and it will be completely based on my life.

Feminism is necessary because...

2009-08-11T05:51:00.001-07:00

... it appears that little has changed since the 60's:

Carlton University accused of victim blaming

Busy female politicians can't give reliable evidence

Snippets of an online conversation

2009-08-09T12:00:00.000-07:00

Me: [Your] brain is at my house! I shall FedEx it. Or...maybe just Canada Post? With a few stamps?

S.: NO, I think you should PROBABLY USE SOMETHING WITH TRACKING

Maybe you had to be there...

YAWN

2009-08-09T06:12:00.000-07:00

Am I the only one that finds the premise of "Julie and Julia" yawn-inducing? Meryl Streep is fabulous, and from what I gather of Julia Child, it seems that she was fabulous too. But why on earth would I want to watch the antics of one Julie as she recreates Child's recipes and then blogs about it?

I can predict the "funny" scenes already: exploding food, dinner parties that don't go as planned, Julie covered in batter from a recipe gone wrong. Lame!

Needless to say, I won't be watching this movie. However, I'm interested in the opinions of people who have- am I way off or totally on the mark?

I've found the career of my dreams!

2009-08-06T15:28:00.000-07:00

I'm not URGENTLY slim, nor would I be particularly friendly to the intended clientele, but by golly, am I reliably busty! I suppose I could apply to be a receptionist as well, if I wished to preserve some dignity.

Quote of the day

2009-08-03T06:25:00.000-07:00

"Tourism is the march of stupidity. You're expected to be stupid. The entire mechanism of the host country is geared to travellers acting stupidly. You walk around dazed, squinting into fold-out maps. You don't know how to talk to people, how to get anywhere, what the money means, what time it is, what to eat or how to eat it. Being stupid is the pattern, the level and the norm."

- from The Names by Don DeLillo

Conversations with an Indian mother

2009-07-25T10:12:00.000-07:00

Having graduated with an engineering degree two years ago, I am now looking to switch to a new career. To help me decide which career would be a suitable fit, I purchased a career counselling package that includes testing of my natural abilities. The testing showed that I had higher than average results in some areas, and thus I decided to phone my parents and thank them for the good genes. This is the conversation that ensued with my mother:

Me: So, the testing shows that I'm a specialist, not a generalist.

Ma: Great! So that means you should do a masters and a PhD!

Me: Uh, yes, possibly. I wouldn't do it in engineering though...

Ma: What! Why would you waste your bachelors degree like that?

Me: Cause I don't like engineering!

Ma: What a waste of your degree!

Me: Why would I do a masters in something I have no interest in?

Ma: Okay, then you should do an MBA.

Me: Uh, why?

Ma: It's a good, useful degree.

Me: But...I don't want to be in business...

Ma: It's a good degree to have even if you don't do business.

Me: (Sighing) Actually, I'm looking into psychology. My testing shows I'd be good at it.

Ma: But that's not related to engineering at all...

Me: Yes, exactly.

Ma: It's a waste of your degree.

Me: You've said that already.

Ma: I'll tell you what, go to med school.

Me: Uh, no. I'm going to look into what's involved in psychology.

Ma: Okay, you should do a degree in psychology and then, an MBA.

Me: Stop with the MBA!

Ma: Don't yell at me! I'm telling you what's good for you!

Me: La La La!!!

Tuesday confessional

2009-07-21T06:48:00.000-07:00

Dear readers, it is time to confess a deep and dark secret.

I have never been to a concert. I did not cheer on the Backstreet Boys when they played my town during my awkward teenage years, nor did I swoon over Bob Dylan or Lenny Kravitz years later after my musical tastes had matured somewhat.

No, I've always saved my money for nerdier pursuits. I paid over $100 to see Bill Clinton speak live. I waited in line, outdoors, to obtain a seat at a debate on the validity of financial aid for developing nations. I have been to several readings by Margaret Atwood. I check local papers regularly for news of upcoming readings and lectures.

Yesterday, I was saddened to learn of the passing of Frank McCourt, who had once been a target of my nerdy celebrity worship. Some years ago (1999?), my dad and I lined up at the Rebecca Cohn auditorium in Halifax to obtain good seats for a reading by Mr. McCourt. I was very excited to have a seat in the second row, spitting distance from Mr. McCourt, as he read from either Angela's Ashes or T'is. I can't even remember! However, I do remember his sense of humour and cute, childlike face, and the sense of amazement I felt listening to him read his own words. My dad and I left the reading that night, inspired and buoyed.

For me, rock stars come and go, but I am grateful to clever people like Mr. McCourt for inspiring me to fully reach my own nerdy potential. Rest in peace, Frank McCourt.

Oooooh, I'm frightened

2009-07-17T06:26:00.001-07:00

I would say that there are several things wrong with Esther- not the least of which is her head, which appears to be attached to the rest of her body by a piece of velvet ribbon.

Quote of the day

2009-07-06T16:17:00.000-07:00

"If oxen and horses and lions had hands or could draw with these hands, horses would draw pictures of gods like horses, and oxen like oxen, lions like lions, and the gods would resemble the bodies each species possesses..."

-Xenophanes, many many years ago.

A quick trial.

2009-06-20T09:56:00.000-07:00

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Toronto drivers are accused of:

1) Running red lights with complete insouciance
2) Backing out of their driveways at high speeds with only a cursory glance over the shoulder
3) General disregard for well-being of pedestrians, cyclists, and other drivers.

Jury, what is your verdict?

"GUILTY!"

And your honour, the sentence?

"Off with their heads!"

This court session is over.

Happy Birthday to...

2009-06-16T06:35:00.000-07:00

ME!

and Alexander, baby of TanyaEspanya!

I am 12 times the age of Alexander plus 1.

People are funny/strange, episode 327B.

2009-06-15T11:17:00.000-07:00

I went to Service Ontario today to get a new health card. Having done this sort of thing before (i.e. leaving my home and waiting in government buildings) I arrived prepared, cranberry-oat cookies and a book in hand.

As I nibbled on the cookies and read my book, I heard the woman next to me complain to an employee about how people who had arrived later than she had were being attended to first, and it's not fair, and she had been there for an hour blah blah blah.

Does anyone really go into a government office with the expectation of obtaining government documents in less than an hour with some sort of perfectly organized waiting system? I mean, really? Next time, come prepared!

YOU should avoid drugs...

2009-06-13T14:42:00.000-07:00

...so that if your husband dies, leaving you with two school-aged kids, no insurance money, and a gigantic house in the suburbs, you have an undamaged brain to help you make the decision to sell the gigantic house, move to something a little more reasonably sized and priced, get some education, and start working.

That being said, that sort of common sense doesn't make for good television, and so I'll forgive the creators of Weeds.

I finished watching season one last night (I like waiting until most of the show is available as a boxed-set due to my highly impatient nature) and plan on renting the second tomorrow.

Being a Canadian, I find the reactions to marijuana on the show to be quite cute- "Oh my god, he smokes POT?! How TERRIBLE!"- I suspect that if Canadians made a similar show it would be about crystal meth and much less funny.

The show seems to be quite clever so far (I especially love the theme song and the music in general) and I'm hoping that Weeds will replace the gaping boxed-set size hole left in my heart by Six Feet Under. Here's hoping they don't f*** it up!

A yuppie on the cheapie food review

2009-06-13T12:47:00.000-07:00

In today's blog post, I will review the Starbucks Protein Power Plate.

A picture:

Alright, perhaps I should have taken a picture before I gobbled most of it down, but never mind that.

With a sum total of 400 calories, the plate consists of 3 quarters of a healthy flatbread, 2 small triangles of mozzarella cheese, a package of peanut butter, 2 slices of apple, a small bunch of red grapes, and a hard boiled egg.

Summary: all delicious (unless you are frightened of egg products where the white and yolk are separated, like some weird people I know), fresh, filling and healthy. Well, the peanut butter contains plenty of sugar and salt, but really, am I going to worry about those 30 calories when the rest is so healthy? Paired with the Pike Place coffee, it is a recipe for YUMMA. A healthy option for $5.49 CDN, this yuppie gives the Starbucks Power Protein Plate two thumbs up.

Teenagers and the crazy things they do...

2009-06-11T06:26:00.000-07:00

Something I was thinking of while climbing stairs in the subway station

2009-06-10T09:36:00.000-07:00

Quote of the Day

2009-06-09T08:43:00.000-07:00

"When I was born, I was so surprised I didn't talk for a year and a half."
- Gracie Allen

My, how quickly we forget!

2009-06-08T18:15:00.000-07:00

Today's edition of the Metro news has Denzel Washington saying, "I don't think it's a remake [...] I don't know why anyone would remake a film" in response to the labeling of his latest film, "The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3" as a remake of a 1974 Walter Matthau film.

Either this quote has been taken entirely out of context, or dear Denzel has forgotten this:

which is a remake of this:

Good thing I'm here to remind us all!