A Skewed View

Yeah?! Wanna make somethin' of it?!

2012-01-26T13:27:00.002-05:00

Last week I made arrangements with my brother to sell my baby KITT. It needed to be done. I just don't see driving in Toronto often enough to warrant the cost of parking and insurance and gas associated with my love. And, if I do get to a place where I want my own vehicle -- well, who knows how old KITT will be by then... and is letting him just sit until I may want him again really prudent? And let's face it: gas and insurance costs would not be kind to KITT here.

And yet I'm most saddened that I never said goodbye. Not that I never got the chance to say goodbye -- that I never took it. Three years ago when I knew the company that was going to take KITT down to MH was due, I just cleaned out him out and handed over the keys. And now, after sitting on a lot for almost three years (and having his butt flap -- otherwise known as spare tire cover -- pilfered), he's going to be sold to someone else thinking I don't care.

Okay... have I really flipped my rocker over into believing a vehicle has feelings? Don't be idiotic. But *I* have feelings -- and I loved my KITT.

Goodbye 1987 Luggage Set

2012-01-25T18:47:00.003-05:00

You'll no doubt give many more years of enjoyment to whomever bought you from the goodwill store where I donated you today. The fact you've had only one owner for the past 25 years is Mom and Dad's fault for buying you so durable in the first place.

The fact you're the colour of bloody Pepto-Bismal, well that's Mom and Dad's fault too. But hey, at least Dad never ran you over before you got a chance to go anywhere more interesting than the garage.

Happy Travels!

Happy New Year

2012-01-14T16:42:00.002-05:00

Well well well ... long time no post, eh? Well I was thinking of you all when I took the following picture titled "Xmas Shopping in the Rain"

It was December 19, and rain was the only precipitation Toronto was to see this Christmas season.

Which made me even more excited about my return home for the holidays. The map was my attempt to explain to our American executive producer my travel plans. (the fireside scene, alcohol and snowflakes was one of the writers' contributions to complete the mise en scene)

Note the computer with the universal sign for "Don't". I had told the writers that I wasn't going to be bringing my computer home with me, so they would have to format things themselves. Luckily, the writer who was writing the episode that was being prepared over the holidays is the one writer who seems to need little of my assistance in properly formatting his script.

Finally, Alberta! My first Alberta sunset in almost two years (location: Lethbridge, outside my friend Tracy's office)

It was cold and dark and snowy... and I loved it!

So, I have about one more week on the job. This season ends on the 23rd. I'm not sure when the next season starts, thus not sure how long I'll be able to lounge happily on my couch. How lazy am I? I just got off a three week Christmas vacation, and I'm already looking forward to couch-time. Oh well. Gotta be me.

Stay tuned: this week I intend to post My Favourite Things About Working in Production...

Day's Tiny Heart Attack:

2011-11-24T19:35:00.003-05:00

I nodded off on the subway today.

Woke up to the recording announcing we were pulling into a station two stops away from my home. I looked around - crap! My heart seized -- I must have slept all the way to the station where I should have gotten off to catch a bus to work, and continued to sleep almost all the way back home! I looked at my watch -- how late am I going to be for work? -- it's 7:43. Crap! My watch must have stopped! Dammit, no way to know how late I'm going to ... wait. 7:43?

...I had nodded off on my way home from work today.

Day's Tiny Joy:

2011-11-23T19:51:00.002-05:00

-- Getting home early enough to watch Judge Judy.

Forgot to add:

2011-11-12T16:52:00.003-05:00

... while on hiatus, I wasn't walking past the outside of sets all day. (watch the show? this is what The Ash's Throne Room looks like to me everyday I walk past it to get to my office)

So, we're shooting episode 19 of 22 ... when I had been hired for only 13. Now, on the one hand, that is 69% more employment. But on the other hand, around episode 15 you start wanting to raid the prop department's stash of weapons and go medieval on your coworkers' butts. It's like you had prepared yourself for 13 episodes of people sticking their noses in where they don't belong, people "forgetting" to keep you in the loop of things you need to know in order to do your job, holier-than-thou people looking down on you, condescending people patting you on the head telling you that you wouldn't understand because you're not [insert whatever professional] and people who are just simply jerks -- only to be told that you have to figure out how to summon the strength to keep doing it even longer. You manage to hold out for a little while more... then you find yourself whispering with coworkers in the hallways or congregating in the kitchen to share your fantasies about the demise of certain other coworkers.

Then around episode 17, you remember that you're working on this really cool show with pretty damn creative people, and if some of them are so nasty that they can't get into the spirit of the ridiculous fun of being paid to create a pretend world for a Succubus and have to screw you over to make their day mean something... well those people probably also scrutinized the toys from Santa in their Christmas stockings and thought the Easter Bunny was in cahoots with their dentist -- and really, are those the kind of people you want setting the emotional benchmark for your workday?

Thank you, but I'm a little busy making up names for a strip club that can spell out naughty words when certain letters of its neon sign burns out. :)

Three of my favourite syllables:

2011-10-05T14:09:00.004-04:00

Hiatus: [pron: hi-AY-tuss] When television productions shut down for a week to prevent cast and crew from ripping apart one another's flesh due to the work-related stress and frustration of television production.

So I have the week off again, and this time I'm just lounging in my newly clean apartment (thanks Denise, for visiting two weekends ago thus forcing me to clean up for your stay!). With the down time, I thought I'd share with you what I am not doing this week:

I am not going into the writer's room:

There's the pin-board for sticking up index cards to plot out the stories. The large flat screen tv to watch the previous day's footage. The table to gather around and "work". You can't see the whiteboard that we use to... well, play Pictionary. (after taking the picture, I realized some important story beats were on the back of the easel -- whoops! Can't let those out prematurely!)

I am not going into my office, scanning all the schedules and call sheets and calendars to see what I need to do immediately and what can wait for ... oh, five minutes:

I am not admiring my door, complete with name plate:

Can you see my nameplate? Go ahead, take a step closer:

(Steph from the Art Department has a need to insert hyphens between o's... I keep asking her to point out to me the other "Ordinator" on the production, but she refuses)

This isn't in the office -- but on Friday we got little "thank you" gifts from the Executive Producer:

It came wrapped in a sticker that said "I work on the highest rated show on Showcase and all I got is this lousy T-shirt!"

[p.s. After 29 months without cable, I finally got it hooked up yesterday. I positively could not pull myself away from all the channels to go to bed last night. Is there a Cable Television Watchers Anonymous? I'm willing to admit I have a problem.]

"In the unlikely event of a water landing..."

2011-08-08T11:15:00.002-04:00

"...please ensure your safety vest is securely fastened, and proceed to the subway doors in an orderly fashion."

(I guess some people are just afraid of drowning where ever they go)

One bonus regarding odd hours:

2011-07-19T21:13:00.003-04:00

It appears to have made me more proactive during the work week.

If I have some time left in the day after work is over, I actually run errands -- walk over to a mall to pick up the shoes I need (did you know you can't wear open-toed footwear if your office is technically "on set"? I didn't. After months of walking the other way if I saw the production manager coming, I finally picked up "proper set shoes"), or swing by a post office to grab a few stamps, or even grab the carton of milk I've been doing without for the past few days. It isn't so much that I am just that jazzed to keep my day going -- it's that I just don't know when the next free moment is going to come. "What about the weekend?", you may ask. Puh-lease. I have a day job now. The weekend is the only time I have for the mindless couch-potato television-absorption that has come to define my existence.

Today I got off work early -- and by early, I mean "on time" for the first time in about six weeks. So did I kick back, put my feet up, and engage in some unexpected television time? Nope. I did laundry. Might even have been inclined to do dishes, except it's pretty darn sticky in my apartment, and if sorting hot clothes fresh out of the dryer didn't knock me out for the count, my hands in hot soapy water would surely have pushed me over. Literally. (did you know it's supposed to hit 38C on Thursday? I may just stay working so late at the air-conditioned office that before I know it I'll have to pop over to one of the bedroom sets and catch some zzz's until Friday)

Day's Tiny Joy:

2011-07-14T00:12:00.003-04:00

-- A bus that came within minutes of me arriving at the bus stop to go home (when I'm usually waiting anywhere from 10-40 minutes ... bus schedules on my route home are apparently just ballpark guidelines)

I missed my anniversary!

2011-07-06T20:22:00.005-04:00

It was two years ago yesterday that I landed in Toronto! Totally forgot. Might explain why I was in a nasty mood most of today -- my subconscious was pouty because I hadn't paused to pat myself on the back. My mood perked up a bit when I realized my boss and I were in the middle of a serious conversation about which sexually expressive pun he prefered me to clear, from a list of puns I had created. (-- I'd let you in on the choices, except perverts everywhere would then find my website when searching for their relative fetishes) Nothing tickles the funny bone like having a job that requires you to take the absurd seriously (and no, that wasn't the pun). Which also kind of leads to the basis of the back pat...

The idea that someone who fears change with the ferocity that I do would get it into her head to drop everything, drive over three provinces, and begin all over again purely on her own impetus is lunacy. Lunacy! I remember once I got here, I felt like I could do anything -- largely because I would never have thought I could move to Toronto. What else could I do that I always assumed I couldn't?

Looking back on the last two years, I learned what I could do. I think what I learned the most about myself was my resilience. Do you know I was a month away from having to move back to Alberta when I got my job at the tv series? I only had enough money left to stay here one more month, then I would have had to use the remaining money to move back. (I can hear my Mom clutching her fist to her chest and saying "oooh! we were so close!") Every thing I tried that didn't work out, every opportunity I took that didn't lead anywhere, every time I got close to a job but just couldn't seal the deal -- every time I thought about it logically and wondered if I was just fooling myself by even being here -- every time, I just knew I was doing the right thing.

Oh, sure, I'd bitch! The doors slammed in my face were what was happening in my life at that time -- it was share what was happening to me or stare at the wall mute. But I soon figured out that venting the trip-ups helped make space for what I really needed to have: the inner voice that said "forward - even if not far, even if not fast, as long as I move forward, I am on my way". After all, I had moved to Toronto when that was the most ridiculous thing I could imagine a few years ago... apparently I'm not who I thought I was before getting here, and it turns out I can do anything. :) I learned that you can't pick up as much as I did, and move it as far as I had, without blanketing yourself in the mantra of thinking positively -- believing that each closed door is locked for a reason, and that reason is that a door that is an even better fit for you is just around the bend in the hallway.

Turns out I was in the right hallway the whole time, trying the right doors along the way, and found a good fit where -- pen and paper in hand -- I can sit down with my boss to evaluate the relative merits of funny terms for naughty bits. Yay me!

"You have six 'craps,' Steve - which ones do you want to lose?"

2011-06-24T20:19:00.004-04:00

Oh, it was a rollickin' week at the ol' script factory.

Earlier in the week, every department got a copy of the official production Sexual Harrassment Policy. Nothing sets tongues a waggin' like a mid-season distribution of a Sexual Harassment Policy. (Personally, I think it was because of when one actor did an impromptu take with his pants around his ankles and... well, use your imagination for what he said to his costar) Ironically, such a policy also opens the floodgates on intentional sexual harrassment amongst friends. I work with saucy, saucy people!

Then the American broadcaster distributed a list of twenty-one naughty words that we can either no longer use or have to watch how often we use them. Nothing opens the floodgates on naughty words like telling a room full of writers what words they can't use. (Saucy, saucy people.)

[It was like a music video I saw where the band was acting out a meeting with some music label executives. The main singer said "So we went down to the damn grocery store." The executive said "You can't say 'damn'." "Okay," the singer replied, "So we went down to the f***ing grocery store."]

So this afternoon I had to go through one of the scripts with the writers, pointing out where he has the verboten words so he can decide which few he wanted to keep, and what he wants to change the others to. For about 20 minutes, he stood behind me saying "Okay, change that 'hell' to 'torture', remove that 'hell' there, keep that 'hell' -- oh there's a 'crap' there already? Okay, get rid of the third and fifth 'crap's, keep the first, and the fourth, and... oh, screw it, see if we can slide the second one by them too." 'Crap', people! We're not allowed to use the word 'crap'!

I really love my job. :)

(p.s. I got more hugs today. But that's a story for another day.)

All Clear!

2011-06-18T07:52:00.004-04:00

Displayed on the TTC's overhead system status monitors in the subway Friday morning:

"ALL CLEAR! The family of ducks has been safely relocated away from the tracks and regular service has been restored to the SRT subway line."

I got my first Bestest Best Buds Actor Hug today!

2011-06-15T17:59:00.006-04:00

You've all seen it. Two actors spot one another across the room. Arms thrown out in front of them, teeth gleaming in a wide smile, they launch into one another like long lost relatives found after twenty-seven days on a slow boat across the Atlantic based on only a whisper that the other will be there.

I got that hug today. :) One of the principal actors saw me sitting in the corner of the room for the readthrough today, and stepped over to me with a big ol' smile, his arms open wide and leaned down for a been-too-long-how-ya-been embrace and back pat.

Completely unexpected. But I must say, it was nice. I'm hoping it will be a habit. Hugs are nice.

The red light controls my destiny

2011-06-13T19:49:00.008-04:00

My office is just to one side of the set area. Which is great for the whole, in the thick of the action, experience. But not so great when the thick action prevents me from getting back to my office.

When they are rolling, there are strategically placed bells and flashing red lights on the entrances to the set. If the lights a-flashing, shut yer pie hole and don't dare take a step with those squeaky shoes of yours.

If they're shooting just down from where our office doors open, I can't tell if they're rolling or not. There is no flashing light "inside" the set (...the idea being that everyone on set knows when they're rolling... but the door to our offices swing right onto one of the sets... and there's no flashing light in our offices, which means I have more than once burst out the door to a gathering of very pissed off people staring at me, whirling their index finger in the air above their heads, the universal sign for "we're rolling you dolt and probably have to redo this take because of you!"). If there are no pissed off people staring at me, I have to press my face against the glass of the exit door to see if I can detect the reflection of the external flashing light on the hardware of the door that faces the exit. On my return, I may be standing in the outside hallway, staring at that flashing red light, waiting for it to stop winking at me so that I can get back into my office.

I've spent a lot of my time today with my nose pressed against the exit door's window, and twiddling my thumbs staring at that blinking red light.

Meh. Blog boredom

2011-06-12T20:10:00.002-04:00

Should learn HTML. Won't. Must settle for predetermined blogger templates.

This template's kinda fun, though. Reminds me of my childhood. I foresee it staying for a bit...

P.S. Abandon hope for the plants...

2011-04-10T13:52:00.003-04:00

...maybe not all hope. But if you had high hopes, you may wish to reevaluate them.

They are still alive. Zippy is even thriving on top -- still can't get his stalk to sprout more leaves, though.

FourPointFive is like a Borg: he is half-organic, half-manufactured. And by that, I mean he is spread out amongst six pieces...one "main" cutback plant, and five make-shift terrariumed clippings that aren't exhibiting phenomenal successes, but can't be completely ruled out yet either. It would be cruel to show photographic proof of their pain at this juncture. I'll just let them rest in their hacked apart sorrows for now. Perhaps if any make a remarkable recovery, I shall celebrate it with a picture. Otherwise, it may be most humane to simply let them slip away in anonymity knowing that they tried...their path was simply too ambitious and fraught with foreseeable dangers (ie. Me).

Anatomy of a Work Week

2011-04-08T21:16:00.003-04:00

I have not really had much of a chance to process this week yet. In the span of one phone call, I went from 20 months of unemployment assuming I would have to continue searching for my dream job in television in my free time after I returned home from some dead end clerical – or worse, retail! – position, to pretty much having my dream job handed to me. And I started 20 hours later!

It’s been a lot of getting up to speed...not the least of which meant getting back into the habit of rising each day and actually going to work! :) I was so tired on Monday night I went to bed pretty much as soon as I got home. But for a first week, doing a job I haven’t done in about nine years, I think it went pretty well. Got a few looks like “Really? You don’t know how to do this?”, but then maybe there’s something to be said for beginning by lowering others’ expectations of me. Then when I catch on, I’ll look bloody brilliant.

Even though production hasn’t started yet (this week it’s largely just been the writers and a few producers in the building), it’s still as awesome as I remembered it. Okay, my office is one floor below the printer ... and the bathroom ... and the kitchen. But there’s a stocked kitchen! (And I have an office!) The people I’m working for are really good, too. Sometimes you get really huge egos in a writer’s room, but so far, I haven’t seen any over-inflated heads. And those looks of disbelief that I don’t know some things are quickly followed by congenial explanations. And because production hasn’t started yet, lunch wasn’t brought in to us so we went out to lunch each day this week – paid for by the production company. (yes, once production starts, we’ll be provided with lunch each day) And the writer’s room/offices are right next to the soundstage where the show will be shot, so I’ll be right down in the thick of the action each day (that they’re shooting on set, as opposed to on location, that is).

It’ll probably be long days through to September, and taking work home with me on evenings and weekends every now and then. If memory serves, there will probably be days where people expect me to have 12 hands and complete seven tasks simultaneously ... but you know what? Government expected that of me all the time. This is going to be way more fun.

Now I have to go watch 12 DVDs of last season’s episodes, and read through last season’s story department files to figure out how to organize myself this year ... I’m so happy! :)

My Scythe Remains Sheathed

2011-03-03T17:07:00.004-05:00

Let us check in on the life I have been endeavouring to nurture:

FourPointFive? Check.

I know he doesn't look all that impressive -- but I've been trying to find the best place for him, a place where he'll get nice bright but not direct light. He keeps sprouting new leaves, and although none of them grow all that big I'm taking the sprouting as a confirmation that he isn't completely unsatisfied with my care. I think he likes where he is right now. I'm expecting big things from him.

One lil' guy broke free, though, and secured himself a place in my makeshift peanut butter jar terrarium. The terrarium may still have the whiff of many deaths wafting within it. We'll have to wait and see how FourPointFive-ette fares... but he's been in there for about two days now. In the past, begonia clippings have rarely lasted a few hours in this situation (how much water does one put in the shot glass of soil if you're going to enclose it in a peanut butter jar? I never know..and that usually shows), so again, chalking this one up under the win column so far.

How's about ol' Zippy? You can't really tell, because I think I cheated angles in earlier photos of the ol' Zipster -- but this is actually progress. Yes, Zippy remains a little top heavy, but full of life top heavy. Where the top sprouts used to be maybe a few centremetres, they are now a few inches and growing strong. So Zippy remains filed under "success".

In conclusion, the touch of death has not returned to my apartment to date. Good going, Deb. So obviously not everything in your life is fated to shrivel up, rot and fester through your association with it. Good to know.

I'm bored...

2011-02-18T15:55:00.006-05:00

...and I don't know HTML, so I have to stick to pre-designed templates for my blog.

It's nice. For something hundreds of others probably have.

So I relived my youth...and went to an employment services agency today. The one where they look at your resume, and your cover letters, and tell you not to have spinach in your teeth when you interview for a job. Yeah. Not sure I even needed to be told that 25 years ago when I got my first job as a teenager. But hey, something's not clicking here. I'm qualified. I'm competent. Yet I'm unemployed. I could blame the economy. I should probably blame the economy. But since I can't do anything about the economy, I might as well throw myself into busy-work like reorganizing my resume. (Apparently my cover letters are inspired pieces of introduction: my words, not the cousellor's -- I gotta take something non-humiliating out this afternoon -- but she did like them)

Bleh. I want a dog. It would love me unconditionally. And would be less hassle than having a kid for the same reason. (ha ha)

S-no Day

2011-02-02T13:52:00.004-05:00

I always knew that one of my favourite things about living in Alberta was the existence of seasons. With few exceptions, you could look outside your window and know what time of year the world looking back at you was experiencing.

When I decided to move to Toronto, many many many people regaled me with stories of the frigid, painful winters I had in store for me. If I could remember exactly who those people were, I would ask if they had ever in fact actually experienced frigid or painful in association with winter before. I know not to take people's word for things...but they got me. I feared Toronto winters. Turns out, that was like fearing that there was a gangly garish clown lying in wait for me under my bed after seeing Poltergeist as a child. Pure fiction.

The news here has been touting the arrival of "the storm of the Century" today. The Toronto School Board declared a snow day because it is just so very...I couldn't even tell you. White? That's all I can think of - because it certainly isn't that windy, the falling snow is big and fluffy, and the temperature was absolutely not low enough to prevent me from stepping out in my bare feet and pajamas to leave a joyous handprint in the snow on top of a storage container on my balcony this morning.

I was at the University of Alberta for the only day in its history (at least at the time ... I don't know what has happened since) that it closed due to inclement winter weather. Gangs of students who lived in the residences would cluster at the exit doors awaiting great enough numbers to venture out against the wind and the driving snow, in hopes that a large enough human mass would get us through to our classes. In class, we would discretely point to one another's faces, because while our nose contents had thawed, our faces actually hadn't -- so we couldn't feel the puddle of mucus that had subsequently collected above our upper lips unbeknownst to us. Invariably, our classes were cancelled because either not enough students had fought their way onto campus, or the professors couldn't. The solitary trek back to the safety and warmth of our residence towers was harrowing once we no longer had the strength of numbers we had enjoyed when we set out that morning. Cresting snow drifts twice our heights that we had only managed to successfully climb by dropping on all fours, the gray site of Lister Hall in the distance spurred us forward, holding its promise of shelter and hot chocolate.

That was a snow day. (... and if it had been my father's story, fighting off rattlesnakes on the journey would have figured prominently in the memory ...) Being able to stand in bare feet on a balcony is just a lovely morning.

(I really don't want to be one of those people who move somewhere new and constantly complain that where they came from was so much better ... but good golly does Toronto make it so very hard sometimes)

p.s. Nothing new to report re: plants. Still alive. Still thriving. Whoo. Hoo.

I love it when a plan(t) comes together

2011-01-25T14:52:00.002-05:00

I was hoping that some of the little itsy bitsy bits on Zippy's stalk would sprout, but they appear to have dried up. The watering schedule is obviously not flawless, but has proven to be adequate to keep the top leaves energetic and healthy:
And yes, FourPointFive has kissed its big blooms and some of its big leaves goodbye -- but guess what? New blooms! New leaves! Instead of dying, FourPointFive is regenerating!
And that was even after a failed repotting attempt. I had thought FourPointFive was two plants in one pot ... not until I pulled it out of the pot did I realize nope, just a really stalk-y single plant. FourPointFive allowed me to put it back from whence it came without punishing me with its demise, though, so I think that evidences some mutual trust and respect going on!

Perfection! At least compared to past attempts...

Shhh ... don't make any sudden movements ...

2011-01-09T19:04:00.003-05:00

Zippy's top leaves are coming in nicely:
And FourPointFive isn't dead!
Phew!

Resolution: Cheat Death

2011-01-01T18:11:00.007-05:00

I eyed a Christmas cactus the other day, thinking maybe a cactus could survive under my care. I don't really want to concede the point that I am death to flora, though. I don't want to think that living organisms are handed their execution papers when I am handed the nursery receipt. I'm tired of potted sobs emanating from my environmentally-conscious canvas bag on my way home. This can't be who I am, a figurative wanted poster on plant-frequented post offices warning all from crossing my path.

So far, I've managed to keep this guy alive for the past few months:
I call him Zippy. He's a Zebra Plant. Initials ZP ... which obviously leads, yes, to the name Zippy.

Of course, Zippy's supposed to look like this guy:
And ... well, he did kind of look like that when I bought him. But, hey, Zippy's still alive isn't he! So I can't be categorized as a complete failure in this instance!

Buoyed by Zippy's lack of immediate doom, I have adopted FourPointFive:Now, the fact that One, Two, Three, and Three's makeshift-terrariumed-off-shoot Point Five, all bit the dust has FourPointFive really REALLY worried. FourPointFive is refusing to let down his guard by relaxing his leaves into a more horizontal, less don't-touch-me-don't-touch-me-please-please-please-I-want-to-live-don't-touch-me kind of stance. But Zippy is being a good plant-mate, cooing across the front room to FourPointFive that it isn't CERTAIN he'll die ... be positive.

I think we can all take something away from Zippy's example: Be positive.

2011 will be my year!

2010-12-31T16:11:00.003-05:00

I have decided: the planet can not keep me out of the workforce much longer. This year, I sent out ...
...97 applications for general administrative or professional-level jobs
...20 applications for writing (or industry related) jobs from online postings
...3 applications for writing jobs from personal references
...15 queries to production companies for permission to submit my resume
...5 queries to agents for permission to submit my resume and writing (one said what the heck)
...6 queries to production companies for permission to submit my writing (none got back to me)

I just can't be unemployed any longer. It just can't happen.

I've also noticed that pigeons and pigeon antics comprise a large part of my blog. Which leads me to believe that the pigeon that kept flying into my parent's room in Waikiki was actually looking for me, having flown down to check on why I hadn't lept out of my balcony with a broom to scare off his friends back home in a while. (there was a tiny welcome-home basket waiting for me on my balcony when I got home, filled with worms and straw and bits of shiny string. -- they're pigeons. they're going to think this is what to leave in a welcome-home basket)

2011 will also hold one more resolution/surprise ... but you'll have to wait until 2011 to learn what that is.

Happy New Year!

Happy Gaudy Holidays

2010-12-08T16:38:00.003-05:00

My 2009 wreath has been upgraded to an actual wreath for 2010:(Sure, it's a fake pine/plastic wreath -- but given that last year's wreath was green tinsel rope wrapped around an embroidery ring, fake pine technically IS an "upgrade".)

And the ever present 3' tree upon an empty box wrapped like a present:

*********************************

And a bonus upload:

Someone thinks that pigeons are dumber than they actually are. That pigeons would buy that (1) three owls would perch upon one rooftop during the day, and (2) would perch at awkward, drunken angles on said rooftops.
(I think the pigeon at the crest of the roof is actually laughing.)

frowny face

2010-10-14T00:37:00.002-04:00

After putting my shot-glass-in-a-peanut-butter-jar terrarium on my windowsill for my clipping's daily dose of sunshine, my sleeve caught the jar and the terrarium plummeted to the floor. I think I can save the stalk, but the delicate, hard-fought-for three leaves are gone.

Poop.

You can take the girl out of Edmonton...

2010-10-08T19:04:00.003-04:00

... but when she knits a scarf, she'll still use industrial grade materials.

About four years ago, I picked up a beginner's knitting project from Zellers. It was supposed to be a kind of shawl/cape thing for cool winter evenings. But when it became apparent while following the pattern that I would need to follow the pattern, I unravelled it all and decided I'd use the yarn for an easier to knit insofar-as-you-just-keep-knitting-rows-until-you-unroll-it-one-day-to-discover-a scarf. I stuck with that plan for a year or two ... but at the end of that time all I had really managed to create was a ball of yarn that I had become quite attached to.

I have since unravelled that, and tried once more to get it to knit uniformly. And unravelled once more, to try yet once more.

Finally two weeks ago I unravelled it a fourth time and committed to knitting like gangbusters -- if in fact busters of gangs were to knit -- and darn if the blasted thing didn't just roll off my needles like it was knitting itself. Nothing says I'm unemployed like a 70" scarf.

Now my problem is that I don't think Toronto gets this cold. *sigh*

My plant karma keeps me awake at night

2010-10-05T15:11:00.006-04:00

It's an epidemic in my apartment. Remember this beauty?:

Dead.

Dead within weeks, dead. By time I figured out that something was rotting its stem, it was too late to perform a rot-ectomy in a hail-mary move to salvage some tiny wisp of the thing.

I've also killed a grand total of three begonias since I moved here. I think it's the humidity. I just don't know how to water things that already have so much water in the air around it. They die die die, becoming mushy weak images of festering flora. Everytime I walk past a plant shop to admire the pretty pots of tempting treats, they almost imperceptibly lean away from my gaze as if they are already crying in cowering fear that I will purchase them thus sealing their fate forever by placing them in my care.

A few weeks ago, I managed to save one small piece of stem from the last begonia to go down in my apartment. So far so good. Figuring I had little to lose -- it already had a death sentence through association with me -- I put it in a shot glass full of potting soil.

Then I put the shot glass in an emptied out peanut butter container (yes, I enjoy the butter of peanuts in massive quantities, do you have something to say about it?) to form a terrarium that is not to be touched/watered/breathed upon by me. A plant iron-lung, if you will --

-- which seems to be working okay since the clipping I took was only one leaf about the size of the teeny tiny one hidden near the soil below the other three in the above pictures.

*Fingers crossed* (not half so crossed as this little guy is keeping his leaves, though, I assure you.)

TIFF: Day Eleven (Last)

2010-09-23T12:51:00.006-04:00

(sorry. I've been doing a lot of decompressing. of my vertibrae)

Celebrities spotted: None. Next year, I should volunteer at different theatres.

Duties While Volunteering: Play traffic cop in the middle of the hall orchestrating human flow. Rip patrons' tickets as they enter the theatre. Sit outside theatre waiting for movie to end while watching the tumbleweeds roll by.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: None.

Something else you should know: (1) Working the last shifts of the day is like guarding a penny on a floor. Sure, it is within the realm of possibilities that you'll be called into action ... but even so, is it worth it? (2) "Easy A" and "Casino Jack" were clear winners. "Beginner" and "Jucy" were a good time. I didn't get the draw of "Stone". "Henry's Crime" was quite who cares. "John Carpenter's The Ward" was a good scare.

TIFF: Day Ten

2010-09-19T13:57:00.002-04:00

Celebrities spotted: None. Yup. Wrong theatres.

Duties While Volunteering: Sit outside theatre waiting for movie to end. Get approached by patron who has "lost" his girlfriend. She left to go to the bathroom and never came back. Wonder if he ever found her. Stand inside the theatre watching people watch movies. Try to ignore back pain. Not all that easy.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: None.

Something else you should know: Got to go home early because all shows ended prior to shift end. Thankful because back is now preventing me from walking right and sitting down is torture. Coughs from cold feel like my back is going to snap in half. Hobbled home like 90 year old woman. Discovered transit drivers are pretty patient if they think you are disabled. Fear the words "strike the theatre" overhead by staff in reference to tomorrow's end of the festival shift. (editor's note: "strike" anything in reference to a production means take down anything that has been put up, and move out anything that has been moved in. Basically, the manual-est of labours. Will have to beg off lifting and carrying, and will look like a lazy ass.)

TIFF: Day Nine

2010-09-19T13:55:00.003-04:00

Celebrities spotted: None. Apparently I volunteer and see movies at the "wrong" theatres.

Duties While Volunteering: Didn't volunteer today.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: One. ("Easy A" -- easily watchable)

Something else you should know: Back hurt so much when I got up today, I wasn't sure I could even get to the theatre to see the movie. It was slow and painful going. I think the heels I wore on Wednesday after a week of standing around did me in.

TIFF: Day Eight

2010-09-19T13:33:00.003-04:00

Celebrities spotted: None.

Duties While Volunteering: Sat in the volunteer room and sat and sat and sat while awaiting something to do. Got an assignment at one theatre, but was false alarm and was sent back to the volunteer room to wait some more. Considered switching the rest of my shifts to a different time of day. Finally told to go downstairs and hold door open for exiting patrons. Ended up having to deal with the drunk university students in line outside the building waiting to get into the nearby bar's toga party. Snotty snockered sluts in stillettos try to slink past me into the theatre, and almost convulse in shock when I stand in front of them to prevent their entry. Do I not see they are hot and barely dressed? Do I not understand the hot and barely dressed have carte blanche in life and allowed wherever they wish to be? Yeah, back it up, little girl. I'm tired, I'm bored, and I didn't suffer pushy drunk university students when I was one of them so you can just reverse that caboose and move it on out.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: One. ("Henry's Crime") The alarm rang for the first one, and I just hit the snooze button.

Something else you should know: Starting to look forward to the festival being over. Wouldn't want to be an usher as a career choice.

TIFF: Day Seven

2010-09-15T22:31:00.003-04:00

Celebrities spotted: None.

Duties While Volunteering: Didn't volunteer today.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: None.

Something else you should know: Today was the Women in Film and Television reception for TIFF ... a hotly sought after ticket. It was okay. I think I was overdressed, which hardly ever happens, but I can't blame myself because when you hear "reception for TIFF" you think high heels with stockings and little black dresses and chunky statement jewelry and gauzy shawls. How was I supposed to know that hardly anyone else thinks that? They're so obviously wrong. Tried some cold medicine -- made me feel even heavier. Which is why I was late for the reception and left "early". Could sleep in because not volunteering tomorrow until late, but two movies I have been looking forward to seeing all week are on tomorrow. Will see how I feel when my alarm rings.

TIFF: Day Six

2010-09-15T22:15:00.003-04:00

Celebrities spotted: None.

Duties While Volunteering: Manually shuffle and deal incoming patrons to appropriate theatre line ups. Take quiet satisfaction in discovering that some people who barrelled past ignoring me were in fact in the wrong building and had they allowed me to help them they may not have ended up being too late to make it to the right building. Draw freehand sketch of Martin Scorsese from a nearby poster on a discarded ticket sleeve to pass the time while sitting quietly outside a theatre waiting to collect completed ballots from exiting patrons.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: One. ("Beginners" ... my favourite so far. Ewan MacGregor with a dog who gets his own subtitles)

Something else you should know: I'm fighting off a cold. A wake up in the middle of the night with a dry sore throat, feel lethargic and 750 pounds heavier during waking hours, coughs and sneezes that threaten to turn your insides into your outsides, and stare at food wondering if anything on the planet is appetizing, cold. I obviously picked something up from someone. Stupid humans. (Just have to hold out for five more days.)

TIFF: Day Five

2010-09-14T02:37:00.002-04:00

Celebrities spotted: Three plus a bunch of horror movie chicks basically in their underwear and spiked heels (Hayden Christensen, Tandie Newton and Danielle Panabaker -- who technically was one of the horror movie chicks in her underwear and spiked heels, but she has done other things as well)

Duties While Volunteering: Once again, stare at people from the front of the theatre while they are minding their own business watching a movie. Show people into an empty theatre that is standing in for a line-up, where you sit down in the order in which you arrive, thereby being "in line" but being able to sit down while you wait ... a concept that was not as welcome to others as it would have been to me if I were told that instead of standing in line I may sit in a cushy theatre seat. Hand out ballots for audience voting.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: One. ("The Ward" ... thus the horror movie chicks in their underwear)

Something else you should know: The theatre I worked at today lets volunteers bring their own vessels, which concession staff shall fill with popcorn and pop (in separate vessels, unless requested otherwise) for free. Nice. And while I waited in the rush line for tonight's movie, a line volunteer asked if anyone in line was on their own. I was the first in the line to be on my own -- so I got a free ticket for reasons that I do not know. I was also allowed to just bypass the ticket holders' line to enter the theatre directly, for reasons that I do not know. Then on the bus home, I found a copy of Entertainment Weekly. Good day.

TIFF: Day Four

2010-09-13T01:21:00.003-04:00

Celebrities spotted: None

Duties While Volunteering: Watch more people watching more movies. Shine flashlight at bottom steps for mid-movie-movers to reduce incidence of them landing flat on their faces.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: Two. ("Casino Jack" and "Jucy")

Something else you should know: It was a looong day. One of the perks of volunteering is you get vouchers that you can exchange for tickets for public showings OR you can stand in the Rush line for Press and Industry screenings. Because the P&I screenings aren't open to the public, in general there are fewer people at each showing (except for movies with huge buzz where every press and industry person climb over one another to get in), so by sheer logistics you have a better chance of getting in with less hassle (as opposed to standing in the box office line for 90 minutes only to discover the show is sold out, or rushing the public screening of the movie with every other Tom Dick and Harriet). So today I went to two P&I rush movies in a row, starting at 11:00 a.m. ... then had approximately four hours to kill until my shift at the theatre started. First I roamed around the block party being thrown by TIFF's new and permanent facility, but then I just had to check out Wayne Gretzky's. Had the most marvelous dessert -- the "99 Double Chocolate Hockey Puck": a chocolate cookie crust puck filled with chocolate cream, served next to a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Mmm mm mm mm mmm!

TIFF: Day Three

2010-09-11T21:49:00.005-04:00

Celebrities spotted: One (I don't know his name, but I could pick him out of a lineup. I just don't know where/how I know him. We exchanged smiles, though)

Duties While Volunteering: Stand at the top of the escalator repeating over and over "LittleWhiteLiesTheatreOneLittleWhiteLies TheatreOneLittleWhiteLiesTheatreOne..." Stand in a dark theatre watching the people who are watching the movie to make sure a UFC grudge match doesn't break out in the darkness. Stand at the front of a line outside the theatre explaining to people that I am very sorry that a scheduled film has been moved back 90 minutes and that standing nose to nose with me waving your ticket and calling me stupid just can not change my answer from that I am very sorry that a scheduled film has been moved back 90 minutes. [It can, however, serve to summon my nearby supervisor to lead you politely out of line while telling you that he too is very sorry that a scheduled film has been moved back 90 minutes]

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: None. Other than the one I wasn't watching while I was watching those watching it. An Australian superhero movie. Sounded okay.

TIFF: Day Two

2010-09-10T17:48:00.005-04:00

Celebrities spotted: Five (George Strombolupagus [not pictured, duh], Frances Conroy, Milla Jovovich, Edward Norton, Robert DeNiro)

Duties While Volunteering: Stand at the top of the escalator, startling people with "May I help you?" when they are not looking. Stand outside and open doors for patrons with a cheery "Welcome to TIFF" -- reserving the cheeriest for those who are on their cellphones without a glance to the door that mysteriously opened in their path without any human assistance.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: One. ("Stone") But it wasn't easy. Stood in line for an hour and forty five minutes to get in the theatre ... finally got in fifty-five minutes after the movie was slated to start.

Something Else You Should Know: My feet hurt. And my posture is nothing to boast about.

TIFF: Day One

2010-09-09T21:47:00.002-04:00

Celebrities spotted: One (Roger Ebert)

Duties While Volunteering: Ask people who are exiting the theatre mid-movie "Are you coming back, sir/madam?" If the answer is in the affirmative, hand them a small ticket to hand back to me when they return, thus ensuring we do not count them twice when determining the head count for the movie.

Movies Watched By Me When Not Volunteering: None. But ticket for one on Friday purchased.

Guess what I'm doing next month?

2010-08-26T16:13:00.004-04:00

[editor's note: TIFF = Toronto International Film Festival]

While I am getting kinda tired of the "V" word, if it wasn't for that, I'd have nothing to do and no one to hang out with in this city.

Another one bites the dust

2010-08-23T19:44:00.002-04:00

Okay, so I didn't get the job I had applied for. I'm sensing a pattern here ... and it is not flattering.

A perfect birthday, indeed ...

2010-08-21T23:47:00.004-04:00

When I discovered that Toronto's Canadian National Exhibition started on my birthday, I knew what I would do to celebrate. That, or I was going to go see the new movie, Piranha 3D. But then I did a little web research and discovered that the CNE's neighbouring amusement centre, Ontario Place, offered a special where admission was free on your birthday. Bingo. Free day. I'm in.

Keep in mind, Ontario Place is kinda sorta adjoining the CNE, so admission to one gets you into the other -- two for the price of one. And that price is free. Did I say Bingo yet?

I set my alarm nice and early. Then when it rang in the morning, I told myself it was my birthday; alarm clocks have no place on birthdays. (really, alarm clocks have little place in my life lately; I simply chose to blame my birthday on Friday) So, a little later than my plan had planned, I was off for the day.

[Aside: I had to forcibly keep my cheery nature while on the street car, because a blind woman got on but the (insert expletives here) who were sitting in the prefered seating section didn't move, didn't rise to move, didn't even speak to the woman to say "hey, someone is sitting here." And they weren't even teenagers. They were two middle aged men and one middle aged woman. And the street car wasn't even full. There were many other non-prefered seats for where these people could relocate their asses. After the blind woman felt for, and touched, the third person sitting where they shouldn't, I blurted out "Someone give her a seat, my god!" Then one of the lazy asses, the woman, did jump up, but I'm pretty sure it was from being startled by my exclamation, not out of an intention to give the blind woman a seat. I told myself not to let it colour the day I was determined would be fun.]

What I discovered, though, is if I take the street car right to the CNE stop, there is no walking around the CNE as I had planned, to get to Ontario Place. You have to walk through the CNE. Which yes, had a discounted admission price because it was opening day, but discounted is not the same as free. (have I discussed that I am a cheapskate -- I mean financially prudent?)

After determining that I couldn't go around to the east, I tried the west -- and discovered that when I walked on the road by a sign that said "Exit", I was suddenly on the fairgrounds without having paid admission. ?! "Frugal" as I may be, I wasn't looking to be a gate crasher (even though technically, what I was was a Road Walker).

So, in order to be as un-illegal as possible, I stuck to the very edges of the grounds, where there was no fun or cotton candy to be had, and circled around to where I could see the entrance to Ontario Place ... and found myself nose to chain link with a large fence erected to make sure people who haven't paid for the CNE can't get in. What's the rule about scaling a fence, when you haven't paid, so you can get out?

At that point, I saw a security guard watching me, so I walked up to her. She asked if she could see my ticket, and I quite honestly said "I don't have one -- I just want to get to Ontario Place." The confused look on her face quite rightly reflected that I shouldn't have been able to get to where I was if I didn't have a ticket ... but perhaps she was thrown off by my own look of general confusion.

I got the same confused look when I followed the guard's direction and found myself at a desk at Ontario Place -- how did I get here without a CNE ticket? Again, I was honest: "Really, I don't know either. I made a wrong turn somewhere, and ended up where I shouldn't have been. Can I get my free pass now?"

And then, cue the fun. Most of Ontario Place is a family amusement centre, full of entertainment for rugrats not in my possession. But it is right on the lakefront, so there was much sitting and watching the water on my part ...

... with some friends ...

... and my best friend of all ...

... and a bit of a show off ...

I did go on two rides that were adult friendly, but mostly just walked around and took in the atmosphere and the lovely weather -- not all that hot, but not all that cloudy. It was Goldilocks weather: juust right.

After a few hours, I returned to the CNE, this time with proper hand stamp and ticket. There is little of photo-note there. One exhibition is largely the same as another across this great country of ours. Again, just roamed around, saw a few performances at a couple of pavillions...

... picked up a few old friends ...

The ride home took me a little over an hour, what with traffic and stops for all the people stuffed on the streetcar and then subway. It occurred to me that in that time I could have gone from Pincher to Lethbridge. Odd that.

(I still had some old friends left over this morning ... for breakfast)

Happy tears!

2010-08-12T15:38:00.004-04:00

Edmonton wildlife rehab group moves to new digs

I'm particularly fond of the quote "...the society has a sterling reputation."

Leaving WRSE behind was one of the hardest parts of my decision to move, probably because it may have been the one thing in Edmonton that I really put my heart and soul into. Knowing how bright its future will be makes me so proud, but the fact that I won't be a part of it makes me pretty sad.

It's like I released a rehab shelter that I helped back into the world, and now have to let it thrive without me. I'm happy for it ... and sad for me.

Spontaneously, I chose to be impetuous.

2010-08-12T12:57:00.005-04:00

Yesterday I had a job interview for a job I really want -- so I pulled on my "it's 27 degrees outside with 76 percent humidity" interview outfit (a hot pink cotton shirt with white cotton pants and grape-purple gladiator sandals bought specifically for Lynn's wedding last week but capable of doing double duty nicely). After the interview (that I think went well -- it was a first interview, used to narrow down the talent pool to decide who they want to ask back for the "actual" interview sometime in the coming weeks) I had intended to finally check out the much ballyhooed Kensington Market along with the Art Gallery of Ontario (they are in relatively the same area -- and the AGO is free on Wednesdays after 6 p.m.) ... but as attractive as grape-purple gladiator sandals are within the context of weddings and job interviews, they fall remarkably short in the context of walking about town in sticky hot weather. Still, the social event for an online writers group I was going to attend wasn't for a few hours, so time needed to be killed. What kills time better than Cats and Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore? (yes, that was rhetorical). And I can sit when pursuing that option.

After the movie and onto the bar where the meet is to take place, I discover that I am an hour early. Was I given the wrong time, or did I write down the wrong time? Turns out it mattered little to me since I wasn't married to the idea of meeting up with people who -- last time I met up with them -- were insufferable boors who would certainly find no amusement in my being witness to K. Galore's revenge. I intended that to be the end of my day, but after buying a token for the subway, I found myself physically incapable of bringing myself to drop it in the turnstile. I decided to wait out the boors just for something to do.

Across the street from the bar, though, I got distracted by this:

An inflatable movie screen! I had heard about these! An outdoor movie screening at random parks in the city. What movie? How should I know (- were you not following that I hadn't planned to see this?) But years ago, a friend and I used to revel in an evening of arriving at a repertory theatre on time to see a show without knowing anything about what was playing (okay, we knew the title. it was hard to not know the title, given it was on the marquee when we entered the theatre). It was fun to be surprised. So now, with the sun on its way off its perch, sitting outside in a park with a breeze watching a surprise movie seemed most pleasant indeed. Sadly, it wasn't to start for 90 minutes -- but aha! I had some of my writing with me from a failed attempt to go to the library and write in an air conditioned location earlier in the week. Out it came, and so ticked away the minutes.

A lady in a hot pink sweater and white pants ended up sitting next to me, saying she didn't want to sit in the grass with her friends at the other end of the park, then laughed that we would only look like bookends if she did anyway. I liked this lady. She told me that we were about to see Cairo Time, which I had heard very good things about and thought was a lovely choice for an summer eve screening in the park. Turned out, I was right. It was a beautifully understated movie, and Jane (or did she say her name was Jan?) was a delightful benchmate. We exchanged humourous comments sporadically throughout the movie, but mostly sat silently and enjoyed.

After the movie, I decided to pop into the bar to see if the writers were still lingering. They were. They also were neither welcoming nor inclusive so I stayed exactly 45 seconds before deciding that life is too short and I choose to take away from my night a random encounter with a stranger on a park bench watching a movie in the night air instead of a lingering taste of boor in my mouth. Schmoozing? Not tonight dear, I have an aversion to haught.

Still, I was in the mood for something ... else. I decided I'd go towards home and stop off at a 24 hour McDonalds by my place to continue some of the writing I had done earlier in the night. But on my way to the subway, I was once again distracted by fate's surprises:

It was eleven o'clock on a Wednesday night, for propriety's sake! People were just hanging out, watching a few random street dancers, reading, talking, relaxing and people-watching in Dundas Square. So I found a table in one corner of the square and hauled out my writing once more. I ended up between two groups of young men -- the left group was engaged in an African dialect of some fashion, while my right ear was treated to the insistent tones of excited Arabic chatter. Which was exactly what I wanted since I couldn't understand a word anyone was saying. I am least creative in a quiet environment, and have always studied with my radio or the tv on, but the balance between what is background noise and what is distracting is a constant struggle. Energetic conversations in two foreign languages -- perfect!

At midnight, my increasingly constrictive grape-purple gladiator shoes decided that my day simply must come to an end NOW. That, and I just could no longer pretend that I was not aware of how sticky and salty I had become over the course of a humid August afternoon in downtown Toronto. When your inner elbows smack together and peel apart every time you move your arms, it is time to retreat to your own shower for a quick hose-down.

Midnight on a Wednesday. This is Dundas Square at midnight on a Wednesday:

On a closing note: If you could put your love for another human being in the form of a monetary sum, and that sum happened to add up to $4,000, I know what would make a certain birthday girl very happy next week:

(Course you'd have to buy her a new apartment, too. There's no way this painting can be displayed in anything less than a lakefront condo with floor to ceiling windows and an open concept design.)

One Year Down...

2010-07-05T23:34:00.005-04:00

So, one year ago today I pulled up in Trawna with a moving van to transfer my life. To honour the occasion, I chose to take a free shuttle to a large shopping mall north of the city to find a dress to wear to my friend's wedding at the end of the month. I chose a good day to be away from home and in an air conditioned shuttle/mall ... with the humidex it hit 43 degrees today.

Thankfully the pick up spot was in the shade, opposite the Fairmont Royal York hotel (where the Queen would sup hours later)

If you look closely, you can see the much-ballyhoed Arboreal Cabbies nesting at the foot of the trees in front of the hotel.

The bus picks you up at 1 p.m., drops you off at the mall (approx. 45 minutes later), then swings back around at 6 p.m. to take you back to Toronto. Four hours is just too much for me in a shopping mall (-- and I didn't even find a dress! --) so I found a spot that I think was meant for the men who have been dragged to a shopping mall by their ladies ... it had really comfy recliners that tipped you back at the perfect angle to watch sports from the circle of televisions overhead.
I don't care who it was created for -- it was where I was going to take a load off for about half an hour, to get my second wind and check out more stores before the bus comes to take me home.

Apparently there was a blackout throughout much of Toronto today, making a gong show out of rush hour time downtown, and the subway home quite busy.

I looked over and noticed that the lady next to me had obviously been a casualty of the chaos. Her toes were amputated and she had had her shoes sutured up over them.

I've seen some goofy footwear in my day ... but these just brought out the clandestine photog in me.

I am. You know I am.

2010-07-01T00:30:00.001-04:00

I am Canadian.

And how a day can turn around

2010-06-29T23:02:00.005-04:00

After coming home from what I thought was to be quite the lovely Saturday, I spent much of the rest of the weekend alternating between watching disturbing footage of what was happening a short distance away from my apartment, and turning the channel in disgust at what was happening a short distance away from my apartment.

What bothered me the most, actually, was the vast number of people who stood around or took pictures/video of the vandals as if they have no stake in what they are witnessing.

Watch the above video closely. Black Hoodie Punk bumps into Brown Shirted Dude while exiting the display video. Punk actually reaches out, and says "Sorry" to the guy he just bumped into. Brown Shirt is at first annoyed at being bumped into, then realizes the store is "open for business". Brown Shirt steps into the store, ready to do some looting of his own, until Black Hoodie is tackled by Decent Citizen, and his bounty tossed back into the store. Then Brown Shirt is on his way as well, now that he sees what happens to looters in this crowd.

I'm not advocating tackling looters. But if other decent citizens had only stepped up, had said no to the looters, had exerted any societal pressure in their crowds rather than tacit acceptance of the destruction and the mayhem, we would have had less destruction and mayhem. Humans are pack animals. When the pack doesn't allow punks or punk behaviour in its midst, would-be punks like Brown Shirt are nipped in the bud and established punks like Black Hoodie are put in their place. Except the Decent Citizen didn't even have the pack behind him. He stepped up, without the support of anyone around him, and did what he knew was right. He's the guy I want in my society. Everyone else seen in the video (except perhaps for Red Sweater Hips, who did finally step up to help Decent Citizen after the fact) can rot in the burned down, vandalized world they have helped create.

All that evil needs to flourish is for good men and women to do nothing in the face of it. This weekend proved that when many (perhaps good) people had a chance to make a difference, all they did was make a video. The fact this one video caught a Decent Citizen taking a stand was purely coincidental.

This globe is your and my community. Whoever sets fire to the neighbourhood is burning down OUR neighbourhood. When are people going to step out of spectator mode, and enter the human race? Let Black Hoodies know that they don't belong, and make the Brown Shirts think twice.

Happy Saturday!

2010-06-26T14:50:00.007-04:00

On Saturday morning (or afternoon, more often) I walk about 20 minutes to a corner store that sells the Saturday Toronto Star for a dollar less than anywhere else around my place. Maybe I'm cheap, maybe I just want an excuse for a walk, but I will go out of my way for a buck. So sue me.

But this morning -- okay, afternoon! -- I first had to stop by the library to pick up a book I had put on hold. There was a line up at the counter, so I did a quick lap around the stacks to kill some time ... and found Dan Brown's new book up for grabs. Yoink! [ed. note: "Yoink!: a sound effect; usually associated with snatching something up with enthusiasm; often accompanied with nefarious moustache twirling."]

Then on my way to the cheap newspaper, I detoured into a lovely garden centre that was in my path. It's a really beautifully set up oasis in the midst of many small, "jack of all trades, master of none" mom n' pop shops that populate the neighbourhood.

Walking around in the outdoor display area felt like I was far from any city indeed.

Just as I was going to enter the city once more, I saw her! She had to be mine! I rushed out to buy my newspaper, then hurried back to the oasis to pick her up before anyone else could get to her first. I spirited her back to my home, cackling maniacally all the way:

Look at her flowers!

Really adds something to my apartment, only the floor of which you can see in the pictures, eh?

I had many more things in my hands upon returning to my apartment than I had intended ... but what a lovely lovely Saturday for me!

I'm a little worried...

2010-06-23T11:05:00.003-04:00

I haven't seen my next door neighbour in a while ...

On a scale of one to ten...

2010-06-11T22:43:00.002-04:00

Hung out at the bus stop today and chatted with a lovely lady about the neighbourhood and the transit system while we awaited the arrival of the bus.

Then I took the streetcar downtown to see the A-Team, but the streetcar didn't quite make it to the stop I needed because of an accident that shut down its lane, so I ended up having to get off the car and high-tail it to the theatre about 1/2 an hour away to catch the showing I wanted to see.

Made it in enough time to quickly visit the ladies room before settling into my seat. I love seeing movies on weekdays where most others are at work or school. Its like my own private showing. I was getting happier by the moment once the movie started cuz it was really so very fun. About half an hour into it, suddenly we were at the end and the mission was almost all done. The movie had skipped about an hour. So I and a handful of others walked out and management gave us two free passes AND let us into another showing of the movie where we could watch the movie almost from the start all over again. Another quick trip to the ladies room (my bladder doesn't play well with others), and I settled into the second theatre to watch the movie a second time.

Happy once more. Not even all that bothered by the inconvenience. Then, as I rearrange my position in the seat, I feel something on the edge of my shirt. What is this ... the tag? Why's the cleaning instruction tag on the outside of my -- OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD MY SHIRT IS ON INSIDE OUT! My shirt with the embroidery on the chest has been clearly showing the wrong side of the pattern, complete with random thread ends, in addition to the wrong side of the seams, and the large pattern stamp with material details on the back of the collar. All day. While chatting with the lady at the bus stop. While sitting on the street car. While walking to the theatre complex. While buying a ticket and while mingling with others when the movie messed up, back to customer service to exchange my ticket for a different theatre and TWO trips to the ladies room -- which yes, have mirrors!

On a scale of one to ten, I'd say the embarrassment was a six. Because people had to have noticed. But no one mentioned it to me, so maybe they didn't notice. Or if they did notice, they thought I did it on purpose; like I was one of the ladies in Cosmo that does random nutso things in public in order to report in the next issue on how people reacted.

Yeah ... yeah that's what I was doing. A sociological experiment. For a widely-read woman's magazine. Oh, you all failed by the way.

You know that commercial ...

2010-06-09T17:27:00.001-04:00

... where the teens are at the beach talking about their new fancy phone app where they can check their social network sites to see what their buddy is doing (and he's stuffing his face full o' fries)? So, instead of risking any physical activity whatsoever - such as turning their head to look to see what their friend is doing for themselves - they glue their eyeballs to their phones?

Well, I was taking a leisurely stroll around the neighbourhood yesterday ... and obviously this chick didn't want anything like a lovely summer day on her porch to ruin her phone app obsession either:

When the world revolves around you...

2010-06-08T11:14:00.008-04:00

...you're liable to get a little dizzy.

[re: "BP CEO on need to stop oil spill: 'I want my life back.' "]

Let's just hold BP to the standards it set out for itself:

Hot Fun in the Summertime...

2010-05-26T17:08:00.003-04:00

What's a girl to do?

Make herself an awning that will divert the sun from coming to visit, that's what:

I can rig it over the railing to create a cooler(er) nook to sit and get some air without the sun. Or, lower it down against the window which, combined with the fan I bought last week for 1/2 off, makes my apartment not that bad in 30 degree weather.

Ahhh. Not that bad. I aspire to so little, so I can feel fulfilled.

Uh ... Mommy?

2010-05-25T22:33:00.005-04:00

So you and your child are browsing the local Coles Bookstore. Ooh! A table with $5 books! Let's look there, honey, you say. So you and your child check out The Book of Love, Dream Cars, Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaur, Rock N' Roll Pop Quiz Book, Incredibly Easy Weeknight Meals, Easy Stirfries, Fashion Model, Great Canadian Speeches, My Cool World in Photos and ...

EVIL WIVES: DEADLY WOMEN WHOSE CRIMES KNEW NO LIMITS!
Suddenly, your child gets very quiet. You know you're staring down the business end of a heart to heart instead of storytime tonight.

SSDD

2010-05-17T14:38:00.004-04:00

Same stuff, different day.

Nothing to see here. Except maybe:
I don't know if there weren't pretty trees like this in Edmonton, or I just never noticed them before. But spring in Toronto has been very eye-catching around here.

Yeah, I'm alive

2010-04-25T22:29:00.005-04:00

I just haven't really been doing much worth sharing lately. I could take a picture of my television if you really want a pictorial representation of how I've spent my days for the past few weeks.

First, a clarification. The Batman Strawberry may have confused some. Check out the logo on the Batman Collector cup. That's what I meant:

A few weeks back I went to a screenwriting seminar and found myself in Dundas Square during Earth Hour. Got my picture taken with the World Wildlife Fund mascot. That was kinda fun, in a Who Care Cuz It's Not Like Anyone Knows Me Here kinda way:

So, what's next? Oh yes. I had an interview a few weeks ago for Toronto Wildlife Centre, which would have been a really efficient job to have insofar as I always intended to volunteer with TWC once I got a job ... so if my job was with TWC, that would be frosting two cakes with one can of icing (I'm trying out different phrases to replace "killing two birds with one stone" ... which is particular inappropriate in this context)

If I got the job, I was supposed to hear by this past Friday. Nada. And my references weren't contacted to sing my praises. I'm a quick chick. I didn't get the job.

But on the way home from the interview, I saw some friends. This guy, who I don't know:
And then there was this goose -- who I watched quietly for about five minutes while he snuck up on this bus. Don't know why. But he slowly and stealthily advanced on it. Finally I got bored and moved on myself. (I've been scanning the news headlines, however, for a homicide on a bus that stumps the police, perhaps because all they found was tiny webbed footprints in blood leading away from the scene.)

These guys were clever! The dude in the foreground was the dude ... who placed himself where he was so that I wouldn't notice his gal on her nest in the upper left hand corner of the field. To complete the illusion, his gal lay down against the ground. Unfortunately, I was onto their tricks, and saw both anyway.

Which brings our little story to today. Some pretty folliage out by my place lately:

(See the guy under the tree? I took about five pictures of this tree, just to be sure I got a really nice angle. This guy moved with me so that he would always be in the shot. Idiot.)

Thus concludes a day in my life, avoiding the picture of the television.

Apparently...

2010-03-26T23:32:00.001-04:00

... my strawberry thinks it's Batman.

Fates' Catnip Toy

2010-03-20T13:23:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was supposed to be gorgeous out, so I decided somewhat late in the morning that I would go see a movie that just opened that day. I think the Fates were bored yesterday and plopped that thought into my head just for fun.

I stand in my front room debating whether or not I have time to make it to the theatre for the first showing. Yes. No. Maybe. Okay, just go! I decide. A quick toothbrushing session, clothes upon my back and I rush out to the bus stop.

Ooh, but I don't have any money in my wallet. I need to stop by an ATM. If I catch the bus here, I can't get money until I get to the theatre, assuming there is a bank or ATM near the theatre, because while there is a bank near the transit station I'd have to pay another fare if I leave the station to go to the bank. I do not know. Maybe I should walk to the bank right now. But would that mean I'll miss the streetcar I ultimately need to catch in order to make the movie on time? Ach, I need money. So I start walking to the bank -- then the bus comes. Okay, I'll hop on the bus.

At the transit station: The streetcar I need isn't here. I wonder how long I'll have to wait. I should have gone to the bank first. Bet ya I would have been here before the -- ooh! Here's the streetcar!

Tick tock. Tick tock. The streetcar is making okay time. I may make it to the movie. Oh, right. Have to get money first. May still happen. Oh crap. Some idiot steps onto the car to drill the driver on what route the streetcar takes, and what other route would he be able to take? Just get off, would you? Some of us are tick tocking here -- phew. Bye bye idiot. I may still make my movie.

What is there right at my stop? Yes -- the bank I need! Ooh, thank you Fates. Quick look to my watch --- ooh thank you Fates! Time enough to get money AND go to a convenience store to pick up some snacks that won't cost me $12.95 for a pop and chocolate bar.

At the theatre box office with five minutes to spare, I open my mouth to ask for my ticket ... until I see my movie isn't listed behind the cashier. Oh. No. I open my bag to see the movie times I had written down ... and I wrote down the times for the wrong movie!! The movie I want isn't playing at this theatre!

Why would all these little things go right for me in order to conspire to get me to the wrong theatre on time?!

A quick check of my newspaper, and I see the movie I want is playing in twenty minutes down the street ... about a half hour down the street ... at a second theatre that charges over twice as much as the first theatre I am currently standing in. I could run to catch it. Or I could just throw in the towel on the early showing. The next showing at the second theatre is in three and a half hours. Fine. I'll go to that.

So I have three and a half hours to kill. Well, three hours; I'll need half an hour to get to the second theatre. So I check out the farmer's market. And I window shop on streets I haven't already walked a dozen times while roaming downtown to get to know the city.

After about 40 minutes, I realize something -- the point of seeing the movie I had endeavoured to see this afternoon was that it was playing at a cheap theatre. If I'm going to pay over twice as much someplace else, I'm going to see something else. Something I want to see more.

I remember that a movie I want to see more is playing at a theatre not quite so far away. A quick check of my newspaper - hey, the theatre isn't listed. I have no idea when the movie I want is playing. Did I just waste 40 minutes that I should have spent getting to the third theatre?

Off to the third planned theatre. It is out of the way of the second theatre, but that doesn't matter: if this doesn't work out I am just going to throw my hands up to the Fates, call it a day and go home wondering why my life is a catnip toy for them to bat around for their amusement.

I walk up to the box office at the third theatre, not holding out much hope as I check out the listings -- oh you are kidding me! The movie is playing in two minutes! Yes! Up I go to the theatre, and down I sit in a perfect seat right in the middle of the theatre. And the unexpected joy does not stop there: did you know the arms of these theatre seats swing up and out of the way if you want? I took off my shoes, pushed one seat arm out of the way, and lounged to the side with my legs stretched out across the seats. Ah. That was a good movie.

Do the Fates hate me enough to make sure I get to the wrong theatre on time? Or do they like me enough to let my third choice work so deliciously perfectly? Catnip never knows if it is catnip. It just is.

Springfield, Springfield!

2010-03-09T00:54:00.004-05:00

Much of this past weekend was spent singing Bart Simpson's rendition of "New York, New York" (from On the Town), appropriately titled "Springfield, Springfield." I don't know why. It just seemed appropriate.

I met up with a few friends to spend the weekend walking around New York. And walking. And walking. And walking, walking walking. I spent half of the money I brought for mad money on bandaids for my protesting feet. But still we walked.

We stayed at this quite nice hotel in the middle of Midtown East, where everything seemed to be -- well, within walking distance. The rooms were about the size of closets:But I could lie down on the top bunk and watch tv with the screen inches away from my face -- EXCELLENT! (When I put my feet up at the end of the day, to try to draw some blood from my feet down to my torso, my feet touched the ceiling):The hotel did have a very nice rooftop patio, though:St. Patrick's Cathedral was a few blocks away. My friends were enthralled with it -- but I thought it looked evil. Like it had broke through the earth straight up from the depths of hell itself:Naturally Times Square was one of our destinations: We saw Wicked one night. It was okay. My friends bought $18 drinks at intermission. Should have gotten a pic of that!I went up to the observation deck of the Empire State Building. Not quite as expensive as the CN Tower, and a bit more worth it (looking from above a city is a bit more interesting than looking from overtop of it, if you know what I mean):The Supreme Court building. Very impressive. We went to the trouble of going through security (oh good gravies, close to everything we wanted to see had such security!) so that we could use the bathroom. Perhaps a less than impressive use for the building ... but an important one nonetheless:Unimpressive picture of the Brooklyn Bridge:My friend's brother pointed out how appropo it was that the stock exchange overlooks a cemetary:It seemed to be pretty popular to swipe your credit card along the bull on Wall Street's butt crack. I don't know why:

This is exactly what I thought I would see everywhere in New York:

Near as we could figure, these two were guarding a relatively empty street. Kitty-corner to the New York Stock Exchange, sure, but I think they were just showing a presence, cuz we were there for about 20 minutes, and these two just lingered by the open truck door the whole time. I didn't know if they approve of their picture being taken though. Neither did my friends, so when I said I was going to take the picture, they encouraged me to do so but retreated three paces away from me. When the officer whose back is to the camera came towards me after I took the picture (for what it turned out to be an unrelated reason), I nearly soiled by jeans.

We took the ferry to Liberty Island / Ellis Island. (then walked through the Financial District - seen above - past Chinatown, through Soho, and up to Greenwich Village ... but that is another torturous story of which I have little photographic proof, but scarred foot soles). The kid in the green foam crown sells this pic:

I have more pics of this lady than I would have thought I would ever take. Truthfully, I didn't really ever care if I saw it or not. But when someone stands so still, so dramatically, for so long in front of you, your camera kind of makes its way to your eye automatically and clicks itself. (the day was actually crystal clear out -- I accidentally was holding my white camera cover over half the lens ... it came out looking kinda cool, I think):

We saw the Chrysler Building in the distance when we were at the U.N. the first night. So we walked over to get a closer look. Actually, we walked right past it, and had to double back. It is extremely not impressive from the ground (well, the lobby is really really cool) and extremely easy to miss. As we were heading back to the hotel, though, I turned and took a pic once we were sufficiently far from it once more:

This statue has little significance ... I was just tickled how comfy the pigeon on the right had made himself:

Thus ends a peek into my New York experience. All told, Thursday night we walked to the U.N., Grand Central Station and the Chrysler Building. On Friday, it was the subway to the tip of the island to cruise to Liberty Island and Ellis Island, then back to land to walk to the NYSE, World Trade Centre site, City Hall, Brooklyn Bridge, Supreme Court Building, Canal Street, through Soho, past NYU to have dinner somewhere in Greenwich Village before taking the subway back to Midtown East and walk over to Broadway to see Wicked, after which (or, after witch, as the case may be) we walked home past the Theater District and Midtown East to the hotel in Midtown West. Saturday we seemed to be really rambling, walking from the hotel to Grand Central Station again, the New York Public Library, Bryant Park, Penn Station/Madison Square Garden, Macy's, Times Square, Rockerfeller Centre and back to the hotel before (mercifully) taking a cab back to the Theater District to a comedy club.

Despite the fact my feet will never speak to me again, and are weeping as I type, it was fun. I intend to go back sometime to see Central Park, the Guggenheim and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Using a cab or subway at every opportunity!

█ ♥ █ CANADA! █ ♥ █

2010-03-01T22:11:00.004-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Seventeen/Final Day:

Men's Cross Country
-- psych! Men's Hockey, people! Pshhh!

The Olympic Athlete for Day Seventeen/Final Day:

Team Can-a-da

Their Moment:

Fourteenth gold medal for Canada ... most gold medals of any country in 2010 ... most gold medals of any host country in history ... most gold medals of any country period. These guys really have good timing.

Course, I had to switch the channel in overtime to watch the game in Mandarin -- being able to understand the commentary had been too stressful for me. (In case you're wondering, no, there didn't seem to be an equivalent for "He shoots - he scores!" in Mandarin. I switched back to the English channel within seconds of the goal light flaring) Sure, winning by scoring is a lot more exciting than winning by keeping the other guys from scoring -- still, I would have happily taken the "less" exciting 2-1 win in three periods.

Final Thoughts:

Of course Vancouver/Whistler rocked like no other host city: Demographically, its populace is likely younger, more socially driven and most likely drunker/higher than any other host country's populace.

Of course Canadians broke out into our national anthem at every opportunity: somebody had to show the globe how it's done when ungrateful singers who shall heretofore remain unnamed would rather feed their own ego than pay tribute to their country. We'll accept the honour when those who didn't deserve it in the first place thumb their nose at it. (no, I don't suspect this will be something I let go of for quite some time ...)

Thus concludes my Olympic Commentary. You may now return to enjoying your regularly scheduled life.

█ ♥ █ !

Crap!

2010-02-28T15:18:00.004-05:00

You know that whole "Maybe this year, if it looks like Canada's going to take the gold in hockey, I'll pop over to a sports bar and watch it with a whole crap load of people. Lord knows I felt stupid jumping up and down and screaming alone in my apartment in 2002" bit from last week?

I'm home. Alone. Plotted out my day so that I'd be in front of the tv at 3:00 p.m. EST, housework done, grocery shopping put away. Never ONCE did the thought "Hey, I should check out that bar thing I was talking about before" come to mind.

Sigh. Hope my downstairs neighbours don't mind a lunatic in the building.

Note to Self: Buy a Lottery Ticket

2010-02-28T13:18:00.005-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Sixteen:

Women's Team Pursuit Speed Skating Semi-Finals

The Olympic Athlete for Day Sixteen:

Germany's Anni Friesinger-Postma

Her Moment:

In the last lap of the semi-finals against the Americans, Anni began to really struggle to keep up with her two teammates. Already unsteady, she teetered after the last turn and finally tipped over to fall on the ice. If her teammates, having already slowed down when they saw how far behind them she was, didn't actually see the fall, they sure knew it was coming. By time Anni was splayed out on her belly, her two teammates had assumed defeat was inevitable and started to coast to let their momentum carry them across the finish line. But Anni did a few breast-strokes on the ice as she slid along towards the finish, and kicked her right leg up by her head to make her skate cross the line quicker -- and won the race!

Anni lay face down on the ice, sure she had cost her team a chance to medal. After a moment, she looked up at the time to see the proof -- and it took a long time for her to register what she saw there. I think the only ones more surprised than her were the Americans. When your opponents can coast in the home stretch, belly flop across the line and still win, it's time to go home, crack open a cold one and call it a day.

It Comes Down To The Coin Toss...

2010-02-27T14:49:00.003-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Fifteen:

Um ... well ... I'd have to choose ... okay, I'll choose Men's Hockey

The Olympic Athlete for Day Fifteen:

Team Slovakia (ha! didn't expect that, did you?)

Their Moment:

Now bear with me -- there is a difference between losing the game, and not winning the game. And who among us was not on their feet in the last five minutes of that game, wishing the clock to run down quicker or Canada to snap out of it and pull themselves together. It was just a matter of time -- the way Canada was playing by the end and the way Slovakia was playing by the end -- before Slovakia tied the game. That the clock ran out before that time came does not mean Canada won; it means Canada did not lose. I saw it. You saw it. I'm just going that extra distance and writing about it. Maybe it was only for five minutes, but Slovakia was the Olympic Athlete of Day Fifteen.

CLOSE Runner Up for Sport/Athlete/Moment:

Charles Hamelin in Short Track Men's 500m Speed Skating & Team Canada in Short Track Men's 5000m Speed Skating Relay. 500m ended deliciously messy, and 5000m came off as pretty as it gets. Gold and gold. Niiiice.

Three-Peat

2010-02-26T03:04:00.003-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Fourteen:

Women's Hockey

The Olympic Athlete for Day Fourteen:

Team Canada

Their Moment:

Shut. Out. CTV had a background package where it highlighted the lack of love lost between the Canada and USA women's hockey teams. The American players who were interviewed tried to come off like World Wrestling Federation villains, saying they love playing in Canada because they love the power of silencing the crowd when they score. Maybe next time, girls (... but you should have a back up plan just in case).

I Dare You Not To Be Affected By That Smile

2010-02-25T15:03:00.006-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Thirteen:

Ladies 5000m Long Track Speed Skating

The Olympic Athlete for Day Thirteen:

Clara Hughes

Her Moment:

She crosses the finish line, she sees her time and her ranking (at that moment, 1st), and her face lights up like a small child the first time they saw their Christmas stocking stuffed by Santa Claus. Surprise and joy. After 14 years -- fourteen years -- of medals in four Olympics -- summer and winter -- and it still tickles her socks off when she excels. And that smile. Just makes you want to squeeze the stuffing out of her when congratulating her.

Honourable Mention:

Men's Hockey: Canada v. Russia. That was fun.

Women's Bobsleigh: Canada1/Canada2. Gold/Silver. That was nice.

The Two Faces of Drama

2010-02-24T13:28:00.004-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Twelve:

Women's Figure Skating, Short Program

The Olympic Athlete for Day Twelve:

Joannie Rochette

Her Moment:

I doubt there was a dry eye once she started sobbing immediately upon finishing her performance. Heck, I'm teary right now just typing about it. Honestly, what a champion. I really felt bad for her, the cameraman closing in as her coach hugged her, although it wasn't as simple as media feeding off of people's suffering. A skater gets off the ice after a performance, cameras are going to be there. Still, I think I wish they had given her a moment right then -- or even just afforded her the appearance of a moment, by backing off physically and letting her feel less intruded upon. She is in a position where she has to choose between grieving so very publicly or letting go of everything she has worked for in the past few years. Is it too much to think television cameras can choose to use their zoom functions to show a little respect?

Honourable Mention:

Ladies Ski Cross. Quarterfinals. Spain's Rocio Delgado is missing for much of the run shortly after jumping out of the gate. When she does show, she goes down within metres of the finish line, losing both skis and completing a tumbling sommersault to slide across the finish line belly-down. Once she stops sliding, she arches her arms and legs backwards like a killer whale posing on a platform at Sea World, to the cheers of the crowd. On replay, we see why she was late getting to the finish line: after stumbling over the first jump out of the gate, she slammed spread-eagled into the second gate like Wile E. Coyote after the Roadrunner disappeared into a trompe-l'oeil hole in a wall that doesn't allow him through. Excelente for getting back up, and retaining your sense of humour after that, Rocio! Ex-ce-lente!

Aren't Kids Just Adorable?

2010-02-23T14:58:00.004-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Eleven:

Ice Dance

The Olympic Athlete(s) for Day Eleven:

Scott Moir & Tess Virtue

Their Moment:

On the podium, Olympic Gold around their necks (for a performance that actually made me snore, btw -- I liked the Americans' performance better ... at least I didn't keep nodding off during it), these two kids sang their hearts out to the national anthem -- Scott actually threw his head back and belted it out near the end. They were cute and excited and you could see Tess at times seemed a bit shell-shocked in pure happiness. Two kids who really let themselves feel it. I like it.

Honourable Mention:

Ice Dance's Sinead Kerr & John Kerr, from Great Britain. Sinead is as tall, if not taller than her partner John, and seems kind of more solidly built. Just when I thought "Man, betcha she could lift him", she did! I don't know how they landed in the standings, but it got me watching an event that usually ranks below "Watch Paint Dry" on my To Do list.

It Was Like These Weird Alternate Universes

2010-02-22T13:08:00.003-05:00

I started flipping around the channels last night, maybe 8:30 - 9:00 EST, and came across Family Guy. Sometimes that show is just hilarious. Other times, it is a painful in-joke between the writers and someone where they take one gag that is funny then run it into the ground for so long and so far that the fact someone is getting paid for this crap eats your innards like a vampire tapeworm. But yesterday's run into the ground gag was kind of funny. Stewie and Brian get trapped jumping alternate universes by one of Stewie's inventions, and seeing the different worlds they popped into was kind of funny. I watched the whole episode.

Wait - what? There was a game on last night? Oh. How'd we do?

WHAAAT?! DID YOU SAY SWEEP?!

2010-02-21T00:33:00.005-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Nine:

Men's Curling: Canada v. Great Britain

The Olympic "Athlete" for Day Nine:

The Crowd

Their moment:

Have curling fans always been this raucous?! Watching tape-delayed coverage I was shocked and alarmed. The crowd was singing O Canada (properly, btw Nikki Yanofsky), stomping their feet in the stands, blowing horns, ringing cow bells, chanting "Can-a-da", shouting out choreographed cheers ... I just don't know how the players could concentrate amidst all the weight of all that ambiance. But, way to throw your voice and support behind your team! Go Curling Crowd!

Honourable Mention for Day Nine:

Jon Montgomery's acceptance of the Gold for Skeleton.

In an Olympics where Canadian athletes seem to have translated "Own the Podium" as "What Do You Mean I Have to Perform ... Don't You Just Give Me The Medal?" (a close second translation being "Olympics? No, This Is Just Another Competition For Me. Que Sera Sera"), Montgomery wanted it, he worked for it, and he celebrated getting it. He blended the non-stereotypically-Canadian reaction of exuberant confidence in his achievement with a stereotypically-Canadian reaction of crediting his teammates, his town, his family, his friends and his countrymen/women for the Gold.

The blend looks good on you, Montgomery. (in hindsight, you deserved the Athlete of Day Eight recognition. My apologies.)

Hey! What's that behind you?!

2010-02-20T14:24:00.003-05:00

I do not have an Olympic Sport/Athlete/Moment for Day Eight.

(did I mention CTV following Julia Mancuso to the outhouse and staying on the door once she'd gone inside on Day Seven? Yes? Okay, that's all I have.)

Saves Me from Moving to Buffalo

2010-02-19T17:38:00.002-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Seven:

Men's Hockey

The Olympic Athlete for Day Seven:

Martin Brodeur

His moment:

Basically, he was the only guy I wasn't yelling at during the game against Switzerland. Might not be as noteworthy a moment as when CTV followed Julia Mancuso to the outhouse during the Ladies Super Combined, Slalom Run ... and stayed on the outhouse after she went inside ... but since I had threatened after the second period to move to Buffalo if Canada loses, Brodeur's last save was a relief to me.

(p.s. why didn't I give Sid the nod here? Cuz Brodeur was the one working his pads off for 65 minutes, not just stepping up in the end with an effort.)

Racing a Sasquatch Would Have Been Less Traumatic

2010-02-18T12:19:00.004-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Six:

Alpine Skiing Ladies Downhill

The Olympic "Athlete" for Day Six:

The Mountain

Its moment:

The dark horse of the race, Whistler Creekside burst out of the gate and massacred the competition. With each successive run, it became clear that the ones who get the medals will be the ones who get through their events alive and with all their joints in the right orientation. The mountain took out one Swiss Miss who ended up on her tookus, legs out in front of her sans-skis, sliding the rest of the way like she was sitting on a toboggan. Mixed in with her sobs of disappointment (and probably her core-depth owies) was her laughter of appreciation upon hearing the crowd's cheers that she was okay. The mountain launched a Swedish skier so high and for so long off a jump that she spun like a rag doll around a marker upon landing and kept spinning down the hill. A Romanian had to be airlifted off the hill after slamming through two rows of fencing, and a FrenchWoman went down after only three strides out of the gate. Bravo Whistler Creekside. They'll remember 2010 because of you.

Not So Fast -- They're not Done Yet

2010-02-17T15:46:00.006-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Five:

Ladies Snowboard Cross Qualifications

The Olympic Athlete(s) for Day Five:

Isabel Clark Ribeiro, Dominique Maltais, Callan Chythlook-Sifsof (and others whose names I did not catch)

Their moments:

These ladies took tumbles in the qualifications, but got back up again to keep racing. Or tried to. Isabel took quite the bounce on her back over a jump, but struggled to her feet to continue on. Dominique had to crawl/hop up a jump with both hands and feet after toppling over in order to get back going. Callan had to crawl/hop over two consecutive jumps to continue on, making it over one and starting up the other when she chose to call it a day -- I award her kudos, nonetheless, for whatever was going on in her head at the moment she tackled that second jump.

None went on to medal. (Yay Maelle!) But I was just as excited to see them get up and keep going as I was disappointed to see the other ladies who fell just shrug and slide off the course. You've come this far - literally and figuratively - to get to the Olympics and you can be dissuaded that easily? Pshh!

Honourable Mentions:

1) Team Norway's pants in Curling.

2) Maelle Richer's endearing and contagious two-syllable giggle (upon winning gold, of course, yay!).

Focus on the Moments, Not the Shiny Things

2010-02-16T13:04:00.008-05:00

I don't have an Olympic Sport/Athlete for Day Four. I watched a lot of the coverage, but nothing stood out for me as a moment I just had to share.

Except the coverage itself. CTV's growing pains covering the Olympics is really driving me to distraction.

On-air hosts are given the wrong information by their behind the scenes crew, and are then left looking vacantly at the camera while the footage they were told is cued up, or the guest they were advised is in studio, is MIA ... or a completely different sport than they've been told they are introducing. So far the hosts have kept their humour ("Boy, hockey has sure changed since I was a kid", after speed skating is broadcast upon being set up as hockey), but I for one am tired of having to watch them continually tap dance in order to cover that who ever is speaking in their ear pathologically leads them down Red Herring Lane. I have taken to recording blocks of the programming while I watch other shows, then come back every few hours to fast forward to anything that looks interesting. That way I limit my pain.

But what really makes me want to walk to Vancouver and slap a few people is how, when we actually get to see what we were waiting for, the director doesn't know to show the important moments. At the precise moment when the in-stadium cauldron was lit by Gretzky, LeMay Doan, Nash, Greene and Hansen on the first night, the coverage showed shots of the crowd! By time the director remembered that something was happening on the field, the cauldron was already half lit. When Boudreau's name was called last night and he stepped onto the podium to ear shattering cheers, we were forced to look at a shot of Jean Charest. By time the director figured out what the applause was for, Boudreau was already on the podium, hands raised.

Moments matter. In fact, sometimes moments are all it takes or all you get. CTV needs to quit getting distracted by the shiny things fluttering in their periphery and remember that they are supposed to be taking the job of bringing the Games to us seriously. Quit getting your rocks off on the ubiquitous buxom blonde in the arena while the hockey game is on -- we want to see the game!

I'm pretty sure Brian Williams' goof identifying CBC as the station we are watching was wishful thinking. It certainly was for me.

Couldn't Have Happened to a Nicer Guy

2010-02-15T12:29:00.004-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Three:

Mens Moguls

The Olympic Athlete for Day Three:

Alexandre Bilodeau

His moment:

Think about it.

And a thought for Day Three's Counter-Olympic moment:

Did you see how utterly inconvenienced Dale Begg-Smith looked to be at the Olympics? How much he appeared to resent having competed? I don't think he moved to Australia. I think Canada spit him out. There was no place to fit a butt like him in our national consciousness. Condolences, Australia, that the spit-arc landed him on your fair shores.

Might As Well - You're Already There

2010-02-14T10:20:00.006-05:00

The Olympic Sport for Day Two:

Ladies Moguls

The Olympic Athlete for Day Two:

Kristi Richards

Her moment:

Kristi Richards was in fourth place going into the Ladies Moguls final, but lost control after her first jump. She took quite a bit of a tumble, and not all limbs took the tumble in the same direction with her. Frankly, I was glad to see her get up. But she hadn't gone out of bounds so the clock was still ticking on her run. She fixed the ski that had popped off, snapped it back on, slid over to the centre of the course again, and threw her hands up to the crowd as if to say "Damn it, eh?" While the crowd cheered her on, she gave herself a moment to consider how she wanted the next few minutes of her Olympic experience to go, then finished the race with a spectacular second stunt (if I understood the announcer correctly, a Roundabout Four? I don't know moguls). For the crowd? For herself? Either way: Brava.

O Canada: Not a Cover Song

2010-02-13T16:08:00.005-05:00

Welcome to Day One of my Olympic commentary:

Facebook has a webpage that calls for Nikki Yanofsky to be exiled. Saves me the trouble of creating one that calls for her to be charged with Treason.

I have long abhorred artists who use sporting events to try out their personal interpretations of national anthems. These aren't "songs", people. They are anthems. Recognized expressions of national pride and identity. To choose to butcher a national anthem in order to feed your own personal ego at the random hockey or baseball game is contemptuous enough. To have been given the privilege of singing the anthem as a representative of a host country in a moment of globally expressed pride and patriotism, only to feed your own ego at the expense of your country's is beyond shameful. Beyond. Shameful.

A friend of mine put it perfectly: That anthem didn't move anyone or give you goosebumps cause you couldn't even recognize it!

Shame Nikki Yanofsky. Shame.

And they're off ... in three hours!

2010-02-12T17:31:00.003-05:00

Luckily, I've been extremely focused on writing in the past few weeks, so I haven't spent the time sitting around staring at my wall coming up with pithy comments to come online and share.

I should let you know, though, that I have received my money back from Canada Post, as well as a personal call from the guy in charge of the postal outlet who accepted the wine I sent, and a call from the manager of the customer service lady who was severely lacking in service to the customer. I'm actually very pleased with the response to my complaint (the guy from the postal outlet said "Your letter is making the rounds, up and down the line, and has made quite the stir"). So, I must reiterate: if you have a complaint, go online. Don't bother talking to anyone in person, don't bother calling the phone number. Send your complaint through the online page and you may actually come away not cursing Canada Post.

Finally, I am so excited for the Olympics. I'm not sure why. Maybe because they are back in Canada (yay!). I remember standing at the Saddledome for most of one afternoon in 1988 with the guy I was dating, trying to get a ticket for the Canada-Soviet game that night. Oh, we had the opportunity to get many tickets, if we didn't mind cutting off a limb or two as payment.

Finally, right at the 6:30 puck drop, a man came up to us and asked if we're wanting tickets to the game. (My boyfriend had a huge Canada flag with him, so the question was a bit redundant) When we said yes, he motioned for us to follow him up the steps to the Saddledome. I, in all my bossy glory, dug my heels in and told my boyfriend that I was not going anywhere if this man does not tell us how much he wants for the tickets. My boyfriend bounced back and forth between me and this man, coming back to tell me that the guy insists he wants nothing. Well, that I had to hear for myself. So we went up to the entrance, where the man handed us the two tickets and waved off any money. He explained that he had received them from his company, and that at the last minute the couple who was supposed to join him and his wife couldn't make it. He said he didn't feel right letting the seats remain vacant when so many people wanted in, but he couldn't in good conscience take any money for them either. (and he didn't say this, but I'm pretty sure he didn't want to give them to us until we were at the entrance because he didn't want us turning around to scalp them ourselves)

"Just buy Nabisco-Christie products." was all he requested. (I may or may not have exclaimed at the time "Hey! You make good cookies!")

I always plug the company name when telling this story. Those tickets were worth 22 years (and counting) of promotion. The seats were wonderful! Right behind the net, maybe 10 rows up! Beautiful! Magnificent! Perfect place from which to watch the Soviets trounce Canada 6-0...

By the middle of the second period the Saddledome was cheering good passes. Nice stick handling. Canada's goalie even trying to block a shot that went in. If we couldn't cheer a home team goal, we were going to cheer the home team, by god! About thirty seconds after the buzzer sounded, after we all had absorbed the fact that it was over and there had been nothing to stand up for, the Saddledome stood up anyway and cheered ourself sore. (Hopefully Canada understood we were cheering for them, and didn't think that Soviets had overrun the Saddledome) What a disappointment to not have even one goal to cheer. But what a rush to have been there at all!

So I'm excited about the next few weeks. Maybe this year, if it looks like Canada's going to take the gold in hockey, I'll pop over to a sports bar and watch it with a whole crap load of people. Lord knows I felt stupid jumping up and down and screaming alone in my apartment in 2002.

Well what do you know!

2010-02-04T17:57:00.003-05:00

Hello,

Thank you for your message to Canada Post.

I can certainly appreciate your concern and would like to sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused.

I have opened an inquiry for a postage refund which will be sent to our Claims department. Your customer number is [xxx] and the case number for this inquiry is [xxx]. You should be receiving your postage refund cheque within 10 business days. If you have not received your reimbursement by then, please feel free to write me again.

I have filed an inquiry for you with regards to this issue to insure proper training is provided for this postal outlet. The case number for this inquiry is [xxx]. We apologize for any inconvenience this has caused you and will see to having this matter rectified.

Should you require further assistance, please feel free to contact us again.

Regards,
[name]
Customer Service

****************************************
Wow. If anyone ever has problems with Canada Post, I so suggest using the online complaint/comment form rather than bothering with a phone call. Apparently, the people who handle the online comments are actually trained to not tick you off further.

I feel sufficiently handled. =)

Wow.

Dear Canada Post:

2010-02-03T17:33:00.004-05:00

I have a complaint regarding two Canada Post Employees. One of the employees accepted my money when I have been told it is against Canada Post policy to do so, and the other employee escalated my query call into this complaint letter. I wish to be reimbursed for the money the employee erroneously accepted from me, and to inform you of the glitch in your customer service line.

The Background:

1) On January 29, 2010, I went to Canada Post at 1032 Pape Avenue, Toronto Ontario. I gave the Canada Post Employee there (I do not have this employee’s name, and will refer to her as Pape Employee) a package I wished sent to Alberta. I told her that my package was a bottle of wine, and asked “Can I send wine – do people send wine in the mail?” Before she responded, I continued to explain that I put it in bubble wrap and a cardboard wine container (a cylindrical tube, a little over a foot high and a couple of inches in circumference, which I wrapped in brown paper and addressed to the recipient), hoping that this was a secure enough way to send the wine cross-country. She asked where it is being sent (I confirmed Alberta), then she felt the wrapped wine container and said yes, she thinks it is packaged well enough to be sent, but that just to be safe she will put many “Fragile” stickers on it. We discussed that it is my parents’ 45th wedding anniversary and I wanted to send them a nice bottle of wine, so that I wanted to be as sure as I could it would reach there in time and intact. I decided on and paid for Express Post so it would get there in a couple of days, and it cost me $26.87.

When my parents received the wine, the cork had popped and the wine had leaked into the packaging, so it was not consummable. I called the wine store to determine why that may have happened, and they suggested the wine had been frozen en route.

2) So today (February 3, 2010) I called Canada Post’s customer service line to find out if they could tell me if the wine had been left in the delivery truck overnight and frozen. That is when Chrissy, the customer service agent, told me that Canada Post does not accept wine for delivery because it cannot be guaranteed to arrive safely so it is not insurable. Obviously, given that I had asked Pape Employee if I could send wine, and Pape Employee said I could, the fact Canada Post has a policy against it was news to me.

So I told Chrissy about the conversation with Pape Employee, and said that my package should never have been accepted, thus no money should have been taken from me for delivery.

Chrissy replied that the fact my package was accepted is my responsibility, saying that I should have confirmed with Canada Post whether I could send wine or not. I replied that I did confirm it: with Pape Employee. Chrissy repeated that Canada Post is not responsible because wine is not insurable and it is my responsibility to confirm what can be sent through Canada Post. I asked Chrissy how could I have confirmed it better than by asking a Canada Post employee in person? Chrissy replied that I could call the information line (that I had just called), or gone online to confirm. So I clarified that Canada Post (through Chrissy) is saying that when I receive confirmation from one of their employees in person, I should also then contact another employee by phone or online to confirm the confirmation? Chrissy’s response was “That is one of the options available to you, yes.”

At that point I told Chrissy that my dissatisfaction with Canada Post was snowballing the longer I spoke to her, so I would like to know of another process through which I can lay a complaint rather than going through her. She replied I could go online and gave me the address. So here I am.

The Complaint:

1) I do not want the cost of the wine back (ie. I am not submitting a claim for the contents of the shipped package). I am not disputing the advisability of your policy against accepting wine. I protest the fact that I was charged $26.87 for a service that Canada Post knowingly did not have a good faith basis upon which to claim it could safely provide, thus fraudulently collected money from me, as outlined in more detail below:

• Canada Post’s policy against delivering wine through its system signifies that Canada Post does not want to be responsible for wine because it is aware it cannot in good faith represent that wine will travel intact through its system, thus Canada Post *usually* does not knowingly accept it into its system (by virtue of the fact that my wine *was* accepted knowingly by Canada Post, it cannot be said that Canada Post *never* knowingly accepts wine into its system).

BUT

• When asked if I could send wine in the mail, and made clear that the package I was sending that day was wine, I was not informed of Canada Post’s above stated awareness.

SO

• Canada Post knowingly accepted wine, and charged me a fee for delivery (including insurance for up to $100 of the contents’ cost) despite having already established for itself – and based a policy on this knowledge – that it had no reasonable expectation that such a package would reach its destination safely.

THUS

• The fact the package did not reach its destination intact was foreseeable by Canada Post. I, on the other hand, had a good faith basis upon which to believe that my package would be safely transported by Canada Post by virtue of the fact that Canada Post accepted $26.87 from me to do so. Acceptance of my package and money by Canada Post in contravention of its own policy fraudulently implied that it had no knowledge or prior expectation that the package would arrive at its destination in any state other than intact.

Had I been advised of the policy based on Canada Post’s knowledge that it has no good faith basis upon which to believe it can deliver wine safely, or indeed had the Pape Employee refused my package as per Canada Post policy to take no responsibility for wine, I would have found another route through which to safely transport my package. Instead, I was fraudulently led to believe I had found an appropriate and safe route through Canada Post, thus looked no further. For the above stated reasons, I protest and request a refund of the cost of delivery of $26.87.

2) When trying to communicate this to Chrissy, I am inclined to suspect that Chrissy was following a script in response. A script that does not allow her to listen to what a customer is saying and respond appropriately. That is the only explanation I can think of for why she would suggest that confirming Canada Post’s policies in person should be reconfirmed by a phone call or online query before Canada Post will take responsibility for its employees’ actions or advice. If this is the case (that Customer Services employees must adhere to a script) at the very least the script should be reviewed. If in fact Chrissy was not limiting herself to a script, you should be aware that she personally escalated *one query* call into these *two complaints*.

I look forward to hearing from you shortly regarding these two matters.
*********************

I sent the above to Canada Post today. We'll see what response, if any, I receive. I don't really expect to have my money reimbursed (it was a delivery charge, and the package was technically "delivered") ... but man, did I ever outline a good case for reimbursement, eh?!

(Mom always wanted me to be a lawyer.)

Interestingly, when I spoke to the wine store to figure out what may have happened first (and she suggested perhaps it froze), she asked me to let her know what Canada Post says about it so that she can advise her customers correctly in the future.

When I called the Wine Lady back to say that apparently Canada Post's policy is to not accept wine, even though they accepted mine, she was so sorry to hear that, that she said if I wanted to come in again they may be able to find a way to let me have another bottle gratis! I declined (foolish? I just didn't want to get the bottle and then discover that NO ONE will send it cross country. Then what do I do? Drink it? Not I!), saying that I couldn't do that when it wasn't the wine store's fault. Wine Lady said "I know -- but that's just such an awful thing to have happened. I just feel so bad for you." <-- That, ladies and gentlemen, is customer service. And if I were a wine drinker myself, this store would be my go-to location.

(Anyone in the Toronto area: Wine Rack on 103 Cosburn Avenue = Thumbs Up)

Test the Nation

2010-01-24T23:11:00.002-05:00

Today was probably one of the most interesting days I've had since moving to T.O. I was working Test the Nation at CBC (actually working - paid and everything - whoo!), which meant meeting a whole wide range of people.

My job was to shuttle groups of people up to the studio in the elevator. We tried to shuttle groups as a whole so everyone could stay together, but I ended up having a collection of "Believers" with "Atheists" in my elevator at the same time. A woman ran up just as the doors were about to close, calling out "Is this the Atheists?" I let her on, saying "It's a mix in here. Everyone's agreed to get along for one elevator ride." -- which prompted someone in the back to say "Yeah, but are we going up or down?"

Met Justin Trudeau (quite charming and much more handsome in person) on his way up to the studio, and R2D2 on his (its?) way down after the show. Also finally crossed paths with George Stroumboulopoulos. This is the third show I've worked where he has appeared, but the first show when there was an unobtrusive moment where I could say Hi -- and tell him what a friend had made me promise I would say should I ever meet him ... namely that he simply must make an appearance in Calgary someday. (he made quite a funny joke about being legally required to avoid Cowtown. ha ha)

During the show itself, we volunteers remained in the groups' staging area, where there were tables and chairs (and FOOD!), and actually followed along taking the test as the show aired. Did you watch? A number of participants had been hypnotised before the show to see if being in a more restful state improved test performance or not. The hypnotist was sitting at the table next to mine, and I couldn't help but ask him how does one know if a Stormtrooper is hypnotised?! (The hypnotist advised that the clip you saw on tv -- with two people sitting quietly in full Stormtrooper and full Transformer gear -- was not an actual clip of the hypnosis session) Overall, it was like being in a very rowdy examination hall. And my IQ took a hit of about 8 points -- which I chalk up to the distracting environment and not being able to see the television screen well enough to choose the right answer in the visual question portions. I will protest anyone who suggests otherwise.

Doggie Don't

2010-01-19T01:35:00.003-05:00

I don't care what anyone says -- leg warmers with a bandana are so 1980s!

Merry January 13th!

2010-01-13T11:03:00.003-05:00

Shh - don't blow it! It's like my Christmas decorations KNOW it's January. While they aren't yet at the stage where they're coming right out and asking me why they're still up, they nonetheless keep making purposeful eye contact with me in the hopes that I'll spontaneously explain anyway.

So I picked up my new glasses. =) The first pair, my Daily pair, are just rimless with a thin arm. They felt so very light when I first put them on, I kept reaching up to touch them to make sure they were still on.
My Dress pair -- still rimless -- have fancier arms complete with fake crystals at the temples. I teetered on whether I thought they were gaudy or not. I chose to think they are fun.

UFO alert!

2010-01-03T13:28:00.002-05:00

Unidentified Falling Objects!

And they left some space-age sort of jet fuel residue on my balcony:
Doo doo do do ...

Another Productive Day:

2009-12-30T18:50:00.004-05:00

Hey, look at what they have at Walmart:

Neato basket carts. Perfect for the shopper who isn't buying enough to bother pushing a full cart, but is lazy enough to not want to carry what they are going to buy.

You can see I found my popcorn popper!

And got snuggly slippers too:

Best of all, on my way back to the subway I popped into an optical store on a lark cuz my prescription has changed and I'm tired of having to squint even when I'm wearing my glasses. Not only did I find two pairs that I liked, when I asked if either of them were on sale for Boxing Week (thinking maybe that would help me decide), the owner gave me one hell of a deal if I took both of them! (since I'm into declaring percentages ... 60% off!) Yay. One pair is kind of a everyday sort of style and the other is a little snazzier and I've never had two pairs of glasses with the right prescription at one time so that I can decide which pair I'm "in the mood" to wear. I'm quite excited.

The store doesn't do the lenses themselves, so it will be about a week or so before I can pick them up ... but you know I shall share when I can.

And THEN, I got back home in time to watch Judge Judy. Life is good.

I think I'm hitting Walmart tomorrow --

2009-12-29T23:46:00.001-05:00

-- for some last minute Boxing Week sales.

Pray for me.

Debbie's Day Out

2009-12-26T17:24:00.013-05:00

Oddly, I decided to get up early and partake of Boxing Day sales today. There were enough usually expensive items I needed that I decided to do a sweep of Eaton Centre and get it over with.

So my alarm rang at 7 a.m. About an hour later I got up, after an indepth debate with myself regarding how much do I really need material goods.

This was my Christmas season weather this year:

I trudged out into the rain, and chose the streetcar downtown rather than subway. I actually prefer the streetcar. There's no labrynth of underground tunnels to get to the train, and no transfer of lines required. One seat, and I'm done. It wasn't that crowded...

Everyone else was taking the subway, no doubt.

I wasn't sure what to expect crowd-wise at the mall...

I'd say it was on par with any December day at WEM. I've never been to Boxing Day WEM. December day WEM is annoying enough.

About three hours later I was done. I walked to specific stores to compare prices, then returned to the stores that survived the economical scrutiny. I stared at the large boxes of crock pots in a few stores before deciding that I do not want or need one so very much that I wanted or needed to haul one of *those* home on the bus with me.

Leaving the mall, I noted the cops were out on patrol:

I thought I still had enough energy to go see a movie. After walking about 15 minutes to a theatre, the movie I wanted wasn't even playing there. My energy rapidly merged with the falling rain to slip down into the sewers. Home it was to be.

(At the bus station, an obviously nicotine-crazed squirrel ignored my proximity to boldly snatch a nearby cigarette butt away)

So, you ask, what did I get?:

A phone/built-in answering machine for 50% off:

(technically it is two phones, but I don't foresee setting up the second one in this apartment ... it was still a good deal)

Castle, Season One, a tv series I love but wasn't going to get on DVD, until I saw one copy sitting on a shelf, out of order with its brethren, taunting me with its availability. Merry Christmas, Me:

(this wasn't discounted at all -- jerky Future Shop)

An exhausted gift card from Bro and Sis-In-Law, which netted me three books ...
Diamant's book, like Castle, was sitting out of order on the shelf, which I took as a sign because I love her work and was not aware she had a new book out (30% off). Grisham I got because, again, was not aware a new book existed (20% off). Crichton had to be bought because the guy still releases new books despite having been dead for over a year (talk about prolific), a choice which was made further miraculous when the cashier informed me that their scanning system was malfunctioning today -- it would ring up this book 60% off instead of 30%, so the store was just going to let their scanning system have its way. Happy unexpected extra discount, Me.

And, most excitedly of all (sarcasm is so hard to depict in a blog), I needed a new non-stick skillet:
Well, I guess it was mildly exciting -- 70% off.

So, now onto the foot-soaking portion of my day:

(this post made possible by the good folks at Nikon, courtesy of the parental units this Christmas season)

Puff, Skipper and Rose say:

2009-12-24T18:08:00.004-05:00

Merry Christmas!

SnowDeb adds:

Ditto.

Bah Humbug

2009-12-21T14:42:00.002-05:00

I do not want to be one of “those customers”. I truly don't. But when I sent my Xmas presents out on the 10th to be sure they'd get to Medicine Hat in time, I admit it, I did not accommodate for the 11 days they are going to stay sitting in Mississauga according to the electronic tracking. And why would my packages just pit stop there? Afraid of the weather. I see no fine print on my receipt saying "if packages don't feel like getting chilly, we won't force them to travel". In fact, I kind of pay a federal service to force them out into the cold to make them travel. They’re packages! They’re easy to pick up and move around. They, by definition of inanimate existence, can’t fight such manual manipulation as grabbing them, tossing them on a truck, and driving them where you want them to go.

Canada Post Customer Service Lady actually said I "shouldn't expect mail delivery if the weather is bad". Hello?! Excuse me?! Don’t expect mail service if Alberta gets bad weather?! Isn’t that like saying don’t expect mail service in Alberta? Hello?! How long has Canada Post been in existence? They don’t have a plan for bad Alberta weather yet? It caught them off guard? Left them scratching their heads about what to do when they’re face to face with a snow drift? Black ice? A snowflake on their windshield? Has the world gone mad?! If Alberta hasn’t dropped off the continent, I haven’t heard anything that would derail operations being pretty much business as usual at Canada Post.

Trying very hard to not be “one of those customers”, I did not say any of the above. Right up to the point where the Canada Post Customer Service Lady said I didn’t pay for “Guaranteed Service”, so it isn’t like Canada Post is obligated to get my package anywhere (given, you understand, how they never “guaranteed” they would), right up to then I tried to avoid being one of those customers who take it out on the messenger. Stupid, thoughtless, makes no sense messenger. Then I became one of those customers. Sigh. Asked the woman if she truly believes what she said to me would appease her in my position. If she had sent out packages two weeks ahead of time just to be sure they get there, would being told she hadn’t paid for “guaranteed” service make her feel better about not getting service period, even though the very act of handing over money with my package involved an implicit expectation of service, and acceptance of said money came with it an implied acceptance of that expectation. For, indeed what did I pay for, if not the taking of my package from one location to a location of my choice (Medicine Hat), not theirs (Mississauga)?

She said she wasn’t going to answer personal questions.

I believe a sigh escaped my lips, perhaps followed by the syllable “Fine”. She replied “Thank you for calling.” I counter “No. Thank you.”

Then I tracked her down, stuffed her in a box, wrapped her in plain brown paper and FedEx’d her to Mississauga.

I am O-K

2009-12-20T14:03:00.001-05:00

The Carnivore Cupcakes were delicious, and in no way E-coli-y.

We're Cookin' Now!

2009-12-18T19:23:00.002-05:00

I saw this recipe in a magazine a few weeks back, and haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.

They’re like Meatloaf Cupcakes. Well, when I put it that way, it’s downright unappetizing. But put it in your own appetizing way, and you too won’t be able to get them out of your minds.

So, as with most things in my life, I had to wait for the overwhelming urge before I’ll stop thinking about what I want to do, and just go do it. (Hmm. Explains my relatively sudden exit from Alberta. Go figure.) Tonight was the night. I hauled my flat butt (flat from sitting on a couch for days on end) to the grocery store armed with my shopping list and picked up what I would need for Carnivore Cupcakes. Hey – that’s what I’m going to call them!

So here is the Before:

Lest you be unable to believe your own eyes, here is the evidence that I put the Before together with my own two hands.

Literally. Mmmm, mushing meatloaf ingredients between my fingers to combine. Followed later by a scalding hot hand wash because I have a thing about touching raw meat. (I have a rather vivid sensory memory of a Shake N’ Bake misunderstanding while I was in university. Seriously, man. When your directions say “Toss chicken in Shake N’Bake. Put unused Shake N’Bake in fridge to use later” I am going to dump all the Sn’B in a bag, toss my chicken in, shake off the chicken to cook it, then put the bag o’ Sn’B in the fridge. To continue using over the course of the next week. Ask Public Health. They have a file on me and the visitors I had in the lower regions of my digestive system that memorable April. Wait ... what was I saying? Oh, yeah. Scalding hot hand wash) Which is why these dishes are waiting in the sink patiently for the water I was boiling at that moment to drench them before washing them with scalding hot water.

This, is After:

And here is dinner:

Yay me.

(... if you don’t hear from me in a few days, call Public Health ... )

Early Morning Sap

2009-12-18T12:23:00.003-05:00

Yesterday morning I woke up after only 4 hours of sleep for no reason. Asleep, then poof, wide awake. I was so choked. I turned on the tv to watch the morning news because a few days earlier it cheered me up to see all the traffic snarls that I was not a part of, but all it did was make me really hungry because the segment was on some breakfast diner that was having an anniversary of some kind. So I went to the MacDonalds that is two blocks away. Waste of my time, frankly, cuz after sucking back an egg mcmuffin and hash brown (which I had to wrap in a few napkins to sop up excess oil first), I was still hungry. But by then I was sleepy again, so I lay down on the couch and snoozed.

BUT the MacDonalds was giving out flyers that the Olympic Torch was passing by it today at about 7:30 in the morning. I wasn't going to get up that early again ... but what else do I have to do?

Got a little teary as it passed. I was pretty tired.

A Picture Puzzler

2009-12-08T12:07:00.001-05:00

A friend sent me another picture from the wrap party.

As I looked at it, and recalled the good times, I was struck by something really unusual. See if you can spot it:

I'll give you all some time to guess...

Christmassy State of Mind

2009-12-05T22:56:00.005-05:00

I had been staring at my apartment for a few weeks now, wanting to dress it up for the Christmas season. But as with cleaning my apartment, I usually spend a lot of time staring and planning the event until my subconscious is sick and tired of going through the motions theoretically, and creates a compulsion on my part to rise from my lazy butt and just do it.

So my subconscious finally threw its hissy fit tonight.

It's a little busy, sure. But I got rid of most of my furniture when I moved, so I have few spare locations to set up a tree, and my beloved Puff. So I had to use a random box -- but how un-Christmassy is a random box? Solution? Gift wrap it. =)

(of all the things I sold or donated or threw out when I moved, I kept this silver tinsel boa at the box's base. I'm an odd little girl.)

My bookcase always needs something to dress it up. Tacky? Perhaps. Care? Not me.

Heh. Speaking of tacky...

This below actually turned out better than I had suspected it would when I had the thought "Hey, I wonder if I have anything in my apartment with which to make a wreath for my balcony door?" :

Enter wooden embroidery ring -- you know, the type that is supposed to keep your embroidery project taut. (do I have an embroidery project? yes, yes I do. I think Gramma gave it to me when I was in junior high. have I started it? yes. yes I have. a few times now) Wrap a smaller green tinsel boa that also survived the great Alberta purge around it and secure with red and gold bows and little plastic snowflakes that are supposed to be on the tree but wouldn't fit once I put on the second string of lights (I actually have a third string of lights that pained me to put away, but ultimately I had to admit to myself that a three foot tree just can not WITHSTAND three strings of lights ... I have every suspicion my subconscious will come up with some other place to put them, though. It's tricky like that.) I had expected this to be the King of Tacky Christmas decorations ... but I think it actually falls on the side of Fun Christmas decorations.

I said the wreath is NOT tacky.

You don't get to judge me.

So, I don't have rabies after all.

2009-11-20T11:47:00.003-05:00

About two weeks ago, I was strolling past a grocery store, content at having found a sweet doll to send to my best friend's new daughter -- when I was bitten by a dog. An English bull terrier. You know, a Spuds Mackenzie dog from the 80s beer commercials? I was walking towards it, thinking what an odd looking head these dogs have, and how people think they are so violent, but this one looks sweet. (ha ha, right?) It was tied to a post outside the store and as I walked past, it jumped up like it was greeting me. No growl, no bark. Just up on its hind legs, pawing in the air with its front legs like it wants a head scratch or other affection. So I stepped closer to pet it -- and CHOMP! It dropped down and went straight for my shin! Bit right through my jeans into my flesh.

Thing is, when I backed away, it again just sat there calmly. It wasn't being aggressive. It wasn't straining at its leash. It obviously was just stressed and scared about being tied up with all these people about and felt the need to protect itself from anyone too close, and I obviously had been too close when I walked by.

The crowd informed me that it had bitten two people before me, and another woman whom it bit was waiting for the owner to come out. When the owner came out, she said "Oh. He's never done that before. I'm so sorry." I told her this isn't an I'm Sorry situtuation. A dog that bites everyone who walks by obviously has issues being tied up in a strange location in public, and there is next to no chance it has "never done that before".

At this point the woman walked over to the dog to untie it - and hit it three times in the side! As if the dog has any idea why it is being hit! Which is probably exactly why it is stressed about being tied up in public. Because it probably bit someone the first time, and got hit when the owner returned, and then bit and was hit every subsequent time it was tied up in public. It probably equates being tied up in public with being hit, which explains its stress.

I took the owner's phone number, and the number of the other woman the dog bit, and I had to call Animal Services. I knew it would fall on the dog, but I hoped someone would step in and smack the owner three times on her side! Because the bite broke the skin, I had to call Public Health and they had to quarrantine the dog for 10 days to ensure it didn't have rabies. I wasn't really all that concerned about rabies as I've been vaccinated from working at the shelter. I just wish the owner was the one who had to be quarrantined. I feel so bad that if the owner continues to be irresponsible and stresses out the dog by still tying it up in public, and the dog bites again, now it has "a record". Because of me. And it may have to be destroyed if it bites again, because it has a record, because of me.

It's so unfair. Animal Services still hasn't come by to take my statement. They say they're dispatched to my place each day, but then higher priority calls arrive. I don't have a problem with that, I just hope they do get around to me some day. I want it on file that they need to be keeping a record of this owner more so than the dog, and that if the dog bites again they need to look closely into whether or not the owner drove it to do so with her flagrant disregard for its physical and mental well-being.

Regardless, Public Health called me today to tell me the dog is out of quarrantine and just fine, so there is no chance it had rabies at the time it bit me, so I'm good to go. Yeah. Real good. I painted a bullseye on a dog. I'm terrific.

Photographic Proof

2009-11-20T02:02:00.005-05:00

Me and the lovely Ms. Underhill. No, I don't have her permission to post this. I have chosen to interpret the Producers' request to only post pictures for which I've received permission to pertain solely to the photos and videos which may be compromising to the celebrity...

...which is why this picture is so narrow:
Celebrities in compromising positions have been cropped out.

(I think I'm singing. I think.)

So that's the way it goes, eh?

2009-11-19T00:49:00.003-05:00

"I learned the truth at seventeen, that love was meant for beauty queens. And high school girls with clear-skinned smiles, who married young and then retired..."

So Stephane and Marie-France were not to be. Although perhaps we did have them one week longer than we would otherwise have had them. That's something.

I really enjoyed watching the finale. I haven't ever been one to watch shows like this, actually. Not a fan of any of the [Insert Nationality] Idol[s], So You Think You Can Dance [What Makes You Think I Care One Way or The Other] or Dancing with the Stars [I've Usually Never Heard Of]. I don't think I would have watched this show had I not been involved with it. But that's the way it goes. It's been picked up for a second season, and let me tell you, even if I'm not working on it again (although I'd like to be), I will be watching it now. If only to see if Stephane and Marie-France will return for a guest episode.

Now the fun part -- the Wrap Party! Hee hee. Where cast and crew come together with drink and hors d'oeuvres ... usually much more of the former than the latter.

So let's just get down to what you already know: NHL players, even the retired ones in their fifties, are par-ti-ers! Wow. Was a little stunned there. And I am confident one of the figure skaters showed up to the party already pissed to the gills. She entered from one end of the room and wanted to be on the other end of room, and no body nor toes were going to be getting in her way by god. But of course the stripper poles on either edge of the dance floor were pivotal to the evening's entertainment, as they were used to great effect by a few players ... and the offspring of one of the players (who must be very proud of his minor children's grinding prowess) ... and said gills-pissed figure skater who climbed on the shoulders of the player using the stripper pole in order to strut her own grinding stuff. Many batteries were run down by powering the plethora of video/camera phones that got a work out. Is it any wonder that, within hours of the party's conclusion, the producers sent out a mass email reminding all that it was a private party so photos and videos should not find their way onto the internet without the exhibitionists' -- I mean celebrities' -- permission.

I can report, however, that yes, I did meet Ron Maclean. [smooth man. obviously well used to persons gushing. I really did try not to get any gush directly on him -- may or may not have succeeded.] And Marie-France Dubreuil. [sweet, sweet woman. I told her I was very much hoping for her and Stephane to win, and she said "Ooh!" and hugged me. Then let me go, cried out "Ooh!" again and hugged me again. sweet, sweet woman] And Barb Underhill. [her performance in the finale made me cry and I told her so. My friend with a camera asked if I wanted a picture with Barb -- what am I supposed to say in front of Barb? No? -- so I asked if Barb minds and she said it was fine. My one and only photo with a celebrity]. Craig Simpson walked past me at one point, and our eyes happened to meet. He looked at me like he was curious what I would say to him. I thought it would be rude to just look away without acknowledging him, so I said Congratulations and shook his hand. He seemed pleased with that and moved on.

I spent a lot of the night walking around with the aforementioned friend to take pictures for her of her with celebrities of her choice. She and I both wanted to meet Stephane, but he left the party before we had our nerve up. Well, before I had my nerve up, and my friend started drinking in earnest. =) Many of the celebrities looked a little confused when I would take her picture with them, but not ask them to take a picture with me. But I'm not really into that. I don't know why. And apparently, neither did they.

She asked if she should take a picture with Domi just to bug her boyfriend because of how much he dislikes him. I said "Of course!!" (What difference does it make to me? I'm sober. She's drunk. Dance puppet dance! Ha ha. I'm such a stinker) Afterwards I told her she should have asked to take the picture with Domi, I should have set up the shot, and then we both should have said "Just kidding!" and walked away without taking his picture. (said I was a stinker!)

I'm really glad I did this show, even if it was only as a volunteer. The show went over like gangbusters for CBC. Never a bad thing to have that popular of a show on your resume.

Yay.

2009-11-06T11:50:00.003-05:00

Okay, so now Richer/Dubreuil

2009-11-01T13:27:00.007-05:00

Sure, for some Simpson/Sale may seem like the safe choice. Too safe. It's too easy. They're pretty. They're smooth. They're flexible. Yawn.

I find I'm kind of liking how Richer and Lemieux are doing. They still look like hockey players, except now they're hockey players who are figure skating. So I'm going to throw my hat behind Richer/Dubreuil. (and my hat in front of Domi as he skates by)

And it's starting to get physical in the stands.

We've been asked to clear out the arena after the show each night so that the Gardens can be shut down as soon as possible. This is complicated by the skaters who want to be accessible to their fans, and sometimes will linger at ice's edge gathering crowds like a rolling snowball. So we just have to wait it out, try to keep the fanball from growing, and disperse them as soon as we are able.

Two weeks ago, one guy was bound and determined to roam the arena to pick it clean of any famous personnel he could flush out. So I headed him off after he had Kurt sign a literal stack of glossies. The man wasn't about to allow me, a commoner, to get in the way of his eBay business, and kept walking around me like I was invisible and hadn't spoken to him at all. When that didn't work out for him, he started to argue with me to let him pass. When that didn't work out for him, he started to push through me. Luckily a very large and polite security guard arrived at that moment, put his hand on the guy's shoulder and said "It's time to go sir. This way."

Last week, though, this guy would have been pleased. My section is in the corner of the arena, and I don't know if the production crew ran out of boards or just didn't care about securing my section after doing the rest of the arena, but my section has a gap between the seats and the walkway in front of the seats. I've worked how many days without incident?

Then, last week, I pivoted and stepped towards the seats to show a group of people where they can sit -- and WHOOSH! I was hip deep in the gap between the seats and the walkway. The group I was helping converged on me, as did the other volunteers in sight of my disappearing act. I just lay my head down on the steps I was now conveniently eye-level to, and swore a blue streak in my mind from the pain. Millions of hands helped haul me out of the hole, and I was inundated with questions as to my health.

What did I do?

Pivoted around again, much more carefully this time, and tried again to show the group where they can sit.

I knew I could stand and I knew I could walk, so I knew I would just be dealing with a very large and ugly bruise. And, well, I was right:

I have another one the size of my hand on my shin, but it isn't quite so camera visible (and I haven't shaved my legs in quite a few weeks so why subject you all to that).

The next day, the production crew found time to fix the gap. Go figure.

A Skewed View

Yeah?! Wanna make somethin' of it?!

Goodbye 1987 Luggage Set

Happy New Year

Day's Tiny Heart Attack:

Day's Tiny Joy:

Forgot to add:

Three of my favourite syllables:

"In the unlikely event of a water landing..."

One bonus regarding odd hours:

Day's Tiny Joy:

I missed my anniversary!

"You have six 'craps,' Steve - which ones do you want to lose?"

All Clear!

I got my first Bestest Best Buds Actor Hug today!

The red light controls my destiny

Meh. Blog boredom

P.S. Abandon hope for the plants...

Anatomy of a Work Week

My Scythe Remains Sheathed

I'm bored...

S-no Day

I love it when a plan(t) comes together

Shhh ... don't make any sudden movements ...

Resolution: Cheat Death

2011 will be my year!

Happy Gaudy Holidays

*frowny face*

You can take the girl out of Edmonton...

My plant karma keeps me awake at night

TIFF: Day Eleven (Last)

TIFF: Day Ten

TIFF: Day Nine

TIFF: Day Eight

TIFF: Day Seven

TIFF: Day Six

TIFF: Day Five

TIFF: Day Four

TIFF: Day Three

TIFF: Day Two

TIFF: Day One

Guess what I'm doing next month?

Another one bites the dust

A perfect birthday, indeed ...

Happy tears!

Spontaneously, I chose to be impetuous.

One Year Down...

I am. You know I am.

And how a day can turn around

Happy Saturday!

I'm a little worried...

On a scale of one to ten...

You know that commercial ...

When the world revolves around you...

Hot Fun in the Summertime...

Uh ... Mommy?

SSDD

Yeah, I'm alive

Apparently...

Fates' Catnip Toy

Springfield, Springfield!

█ ♥ █ CANADA! █ ♥ █

Crap!

Note to Self: Buy a Lottery Ticket

It Comes Down To The Coin Toss...

Three-Peat

I Dare You Not To Be Affected By That Smile

The Two Faces of Drama

Aren't Kids Just Adorable?

It Was Like These Weird Alternate Universes

WHAAAT?! DID YOU SAY SWEEP?!

Hey! What's that behind you?!

Saves Me from Moving to Buffalo

Racing a Sasquatch Would Have Been Less Traumatic

Not So Fast -- They're not Done Yet

Focus on the Moments, Not the Shiny Things

Couldn't Have Happened to a Nicer Guy

Might As Well - You're Already There

O Canada: Not a Cover Song

And they're off ... in three hours!

frowny face