Uncle Gerald
by: D
In other news, my sister is coming back from India at the end of August! I wonder what her plans are...
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
When I was seven
When I was seven, I was an ardent Coca-Cola fan. Pepsi had cool commercials and Coke did not. I didn't get why Coke would just allow this to happen - were they unaware of the sucktasticness of their ads? Were their commercial-making people -- who knew what a copywriter was let alone a madman! -- just tragically uninspired? How could they let this injustice stand? I made up my own commercial. Picture it:
FADE IN
EXT. CITY STREET - LATE AFTERNOON
A man walks down the street, drinking a bottle of Pepsi. He is neither happy nor sad. Storm clouds gather. Suddenly it starts raining bottles of Coke! One Coke bottle hits the man's Pepsi bottle. Both bottles shatter. Another Coke bottle falls into the man's hand. He takes a sip. He breaks out into a huge smile just as the sun comes out.
CUE LOGO, CUE JINGLE
FADE OUT
I'm not saying that this ad was money in the bank but even now, it's not the worst thing I've ever heard. Perhaps this only proves how terrible the Coke ads were at the time but, sadly, I cannot remember any. While I conceived of the commercial when I was seven, it wasn't until I was nine that I wrote it down and sent it into Coke. I secretly thought that they would make the commercial FOR SURE but also be so impressed with my genius that they would fly me immediately to Coca-Cola headquarters and make me head of advertising. Spoiler alert: this did not happen. They wrote back and said thank you but they already had people to think of commercials for them. They enclosed a coupon for a 6-pack of Coke.
When I was seven, my favorite lunch was Kraft Dinner. We had it every other day because I demanded it. I might have won my battle to have it every day but my sister didn't like Kraft Dinner as much as I did and wanted soup and salmon sandwiches instead. Canned salmon is the shits. Anyway, sometimes my mother would call Kraft Dinner, "KD." I hated it when she did that because it was like she was cheapening it. I thought it was crass.
When I was seven, my great Auntie Florence had a chihuahua named Chico. He was so fat, I thought he was a Boston terrier. Everyday at 3pm, Chico would get one can of beer. My aunt would crack it for him and then pour it into his dog dish and say, "Happy hour, Chico!" The dog would come running from where ever he was and lick it up. Chico lived to be 19. My grandmother didn't believe that he could live for so long and accused Florence of secretly having replaced the dead Chico with a pig at some point. Florence was quite upset about the accusation for a while but then she got over it. My grandmother always called Chico, "Piggy."
When I was seven, another genius idea I had was for an invention called, "The Real Super Glue." It was glue that you could put on anything (your hands, for example) and say, "Stick, Glue, stick!" and it would. Then when you wanted it to unstick, you'd say, "Unstick, Glue, unstick!" and it would. Unlike the unreliable suction cup or magnet, it could help you scale any type of building or crawl across a ceiling AND you could steal things and just glue them to your pants and not worry about dropping them. The Real Super Glue would also know when you were telling it to do stuff and not react to someone else AND, ideally, you could give it commands with just your mind, especially in situations that demanded complete silence. No letter-writing campaigns emerged from this idea. I did, however, make a passionate argument to my friend Jason (now a male nurse-lawyer) about how The Real Super Glue was a better and much more realistic invention than something that would allow you to achieve invisibility. YOU HEAR THAT JK ROWLING?!
When I was seven, I was a major supporter of the color blue. To my mind, blue was by far the superior color and anyone voicing any other opinion was mentally deficient or just being a fucker. I remember being particularly upset with my friend Joel (now a realtor who sold my grandmother's house) for saying that red was his favorite color and that he actually, totally, for realz preferred it to blue. This was both unacceptable and incomprehensible to me and I remember kicking over the rocking chair in my room because the injustice was so unbearable.
When I was seven, I couldn't decide which star I would most like to meet when I was chosen to be on some TV show where I think Dick Clark or someone picked a deserving person to meet a star of their choice. Betty White or Bea Arthur? I decided that instead of trying to choose between them (and likely cause some kind of rift), I would probably just go with Angela Lansbury.
My seven-year-old self was a very black-and-white thinker.
FADE IN
EXT. CITY STREET - LATE AFTERNOON
A man walks down the street, drinking a bottle of Pepsi. He is neither happy nor sad. Storm clouds gather. Suddenly it starts raining bottles of Coke! One Coke bottle hits the man's Pepsi bottle. Both bottles shatter. Another Coke bottle falls into the man's hand. He takes a sip. He breaks out into a huge smile just as the sun comes out.
CUE LOGO, CUE JINGLE
FADE OUT
I'm not saying that this ad was money in the bank but even now, it's not the worst thing I've ever heard. Perhaps this only proves how terrible the Coke ads were at the time but, sadly, I cannot remember any. While I conceived of the commercial when I was seven, it wasn't until I was nine that I wrote it down and sent it into Coke. I secretly thought that they would make the commercial FOR SURE but also be so impressed with my genius that they would fly me immediately to Coca-Cola headquarters and make me head of advertising. Spoiler alert: this did not happen. They wrote back and said thank you but they already had people to think of commercials for them. They enclosed a coupon for a 6-pack of Coke.
When I was seven, my favorite lunch was Kraft Dinner. We had it every other day because I demanded it. I might have won my battle to have it every day but my sister didn't like Kraft Dinner as much as I did and wanted soup and salmon sandwiches instead. Canned salmon is the shits. Anyway, sometimes my mother would call Kraft Dinner, "KD." I hated it when she did that because it was like she was cheapening it. I thought it was crass.
When I was seven, my great Auntie Florence had a chihuahua named Chico. He was so fat, I thought he was a Boston terrier. Everyday at 3pm, Chico would get one can of beer. My aunt would crack it for him and then pour it into his dog dish and say, "Happy hour, Chico!" The dog would come running from where ever he was and lick it up. Chico lived to be 19. My grandmother didn't believe that he could live for so long and accused Florence of secretly having replaced the dead Chico with a pig at some point. Florence was quite upset about the accusation for a while but then she got over it. My grandmother always called Chico, "Piggy."
When I was seven, another genius idea I had was for an invention called, "The Real Super Glue." It was glue that you could put on anything (your hands, for example) and say, "Stick, Glue, stick!" and it would. Then when you wanted it to unstick, you'd say, "Unstick, Glue, unstick!" and it would. Unlike the unreliable suction cup or magnet, it could help you scale any type of building or crawl across a ceiling AND you could steal things and just glue them to your pants and not worry about dropping them. The Real Super Glue would also know when you were telling it to do stuff and not react to someone else AND, ideally, you could give it commands with just your mind, especially in situations that demanded complete silence. No letter-writing campaigns emerged from this idea. I did, however, make a passionate argument to my friend Jason (now a male nurse-lawyer) about how The Real Super Glue was a better and much more realistic invention than something that would allow you to achieve invisibility. YOU HEAR THAT JK ROWLING?!
When I was seven, I was a major supporter of the color blue. To my mind, blue was by far the superior color and anyone voicing any other opinion was mentally deficient or just being a fucker. I remember being particularly upset with my friend Joel (now a realtor who sold my grandmother's house) for saying that red was his favorite color and that he actually, totally, for realz preferred it to blue. This was both unacceptable and incomprehensible to me and I remember kicking over the rocking chair in my room because the injustice was so unbearable.
When I was seven, I couldn't decide which star I would most like to meet when I was chosen to be on some TV show where I think Dick Clark or someone picked a deserving person to meet a star of their choice. Betty White or Bea Arthur? I decided that instead of trying to choose between them (and likely cause some kind of rift), I would probably just go with Angela Lansbury.
My seven-year-old self was a very black-and-white thinker.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
So, apparently this is a thing
If any of you 'Merican readers want to know what it's like to live in the socialist paradise called Canada, here's the latest from the Ontario Health Ministry:
It's less depressing than:
Add in about 3 uncharming, sexist, racist, anti-intelligent Tim Hortons ads and that's pretty much what a commercial break looks like here in the Great White North. As my students inform me, I am the only person left who still watches commercials so this is not a true barometer of anything.
It's less depressing than:
Add in about 3 uncharming, sexist, racist, anti-intelligent Tim Hortons ads and that's pretty much what a commercial break looks like here in the Great White North. As my students inform me, I am the only person left who still watches commercials so this is not a true barometer of anything.
Monday, March 11, 2013
I blame Barilla
Not only is Barilla the source of that strange commercial where the blonde woman is giving a dinner party and has a hot Italian neighbour who smiles at her whenever she looks up and then she realizes she sux at cooking pasta and the party might be ruined! but then the hot neighbour leaves a box of pasta on her doorstep and saves the day while Andrea Bocelli plays in the background... not only that but now this:
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Wherever you go, there you are
Last week, E and I were having dinner at the Vietnamese place on Bank (you know the one, right beside the Loonie Store) and we were seated behind a couple having dinner with their two babies and we went to sit down and the mother asked me if it was okay that their child was throwing his food at me and I looked at her and it took me a moment but I realized that I knew this woman from high school. In fact, more than high school, from Grades 7 through 12, at least. She appeared to have zero recognition of me and after telling her whatever Baby did was fine, I didn't indicate any recognition either, so I spent the rest of my meal wondering, "Is that Bekki Wallace?" Of course, this is exactly what Google was made for - six clicks later I found out that it was indeed Bekki Wallace (now Rebekka Roy), that she used to be a social worker for Planned Parenthood (respect!) and then married a French-Canadian shipping tycoon (are there really tycoons in Canada?) and had two children and now is KraftyYogaMom Supreme of Old Ottawa South (ie/ my overly-precious neighbourhood). She has an online business for providing the world with, "bags, playmats, toy buckets, baby mobiles and more using gorgeous material and lots of creativity" called Birdy&Bug (website: http://www.birdyandbug.com/) and writes in our community newsletter (that I never read but always recycle) about "Cardboarding."Here is an excerpt from the Oct 2012 edition:
I’m intrigued by the lasting effect the cardboard challenge had on my family. My husband, Marc-André, spent hours designing and creating an elaborate marble maze (complete with “pits of despair”). My 3 year old son, Oskar, created a dump truck, a fork lift, a ramp, binoculars, a boat, and many obstacle courses all out of cardboard and other recyclable materials....And so here are my two commitments to you. I’m going to include cardboard creating as a weekly family activity in our household. I shall call it "Makedo Monday’s" and we, as a family, will pick out a project, work on it, play with it and then, if need be, recycle it to make room for next week’s project. I’ll keep you posted on how this works and take some photos of our creations in my blog at www.birdyandbug.com!
I included the above because that shit deserves to be ridiculed. It's its own episode of Portlandia. Also, I like how her penchant for using 'k's instead of 'c's has kontinued with her son, Oskar.
[Aside: Note to self: pitch a Canadafied version of Portlandia to the CBC, call it Old Old Ottawa South. Topics of constant ridicule to be: unnecessary bilingualism, SUV baby strollers rated for -40C conditions, organic poutine, everyone's love of winter. First episode to take place on the Canal, everyone standing around on vintage midcentury skates freezing their asses off and trying to keep from falling while commenting on how beautiful it all is. Does CBC already have this program? Other note to self: watch CBC]
Similar to how it went down in jr high and high school, I look forward to hearing about Bekki's grand achievements, seeing her picture everywhere (there's one in every newsletter, I've since discovered), patronizing the same retail and recreation establishments as she and her ilk, but never actually exchanging words. Maybe she'll say hi to me in the hall, but I doubt it (even if we are on the same field hockey team). I shall retreat to my ivory tower and read heady books about Important Things and look forward to the day when I will... oh wait, it is that day and I'm still doing the same shit and so is Bekki.
What I am surprised to discover is that none of this actually bothers me. Yes, I did go look her up on google and Facebook but not really with a sense of emotional urgency or feelings of re/dejection. I don't care that we are not fb friends, I am neither happy nor sad that we have nothing to talk about, and I do not envy her parallel universe. It's all like a nice piece of furniture that I can admire in the store but have no intention of ever buying. Power on, Rebekka Roy, sell a million yoga mats!
In other news, I just found out that having a runny nose in wintertime is a condition called Rhinorrhea. This is absolutely hilarious to me. Seriously, it's funny, right?
I’m intrigued by the lasting effect the cardboard challenge had on my family. My husband, Marc-André, spent hours designing and creating an elaborate marble maze (complete with “pits of despair”). My 3 year old son, Oskar, created a dump truck, a fork lift, a ramp, binoculars, a boat, and many obstacle courses all out of cardboard and other recyclable materials....And so here are my two commitments to you. I’m going to include cardboard creating as a weekly family activity in our household. I shall call it "Makedo Monday’s" and we, as a family, will pick out a project, work on it, play with it and then, if need be, recycle it to make room for next week’s project. I’ll keep you posted on how this works and take some photos of our creations in my blog at www.birdyandbug.com!
I included the above because that shit deserves to be ridiculed. It's its own episode of Portlandia. Also, I like how her penchant for using 'k's instead of 'c's has kontinued with her son, Oskar.
[Aside: Note to self: pitch a Canadafied version of Portlandia to the CBC, call it Old Old Ottawa South. Topics of constant ridicule to be: unnecessary bilingualism, SUV baby strollers rated for -40C conditions, organic poutine, everyone's love of winter. First episode to take place on the Canal, everyone standing around on vintage midcentury skates freezing their asses off and trying to keep from falling while commenting on how beautiful it all is. Does CBC already have this program? Other note to self: watch CBC]
Similar to how it went down in jr high and high school, I look forward to hearing about Bekki's grand achievements, seeing her picture everywhere (there's one in every newsletter, I've since discovered), patronizing the same retail and recreation establishments as she and her ilk, but never actually exchanging words. Maybe she'll say hi to me in the hall, but I doubt it (even if we are on the same field hockey team). I shall retreat to my ivory tower and read heady books about Important Things and look forward to the day when I will... oh wait, it is that day and I'm still doing the same shit and so is Bekki.
What I am surprised to discover is that none of this actually bothers me. Yes, I did go look her up on google and Facebook but not really with a sense of emotional urgency or feelings of re/dejection. I don't care that we are not fb friends, I am neither happy nor sad that we have nothing to talk about, and I do not envy her parallel universe. It's all like a nice piece of furniture that I can admire in the store but have no intention of ever buying. Power on, Rebekka Roy, sell a million yoga mats!
In other news, I just found out that having a runny nose in wintertime is a condition called Rhinorrhea. This is absolutely hilarious to me. Seriously, it's funny, right?
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Great news!
There's always good news going on somewhere but sometimes it seems like it's too far removed or somehow impossible to take in. That is not the case today!!! Why?
Against ALL odds, things are looking up for Barb! The latest tests indicate that, after some incredibly intense chemo, her cancer is gone, the fractures in her rib cage and spine are healing, and her lawsuit against the city may eventuate in a settlement that could comfortably support her in retirement! After serving the world for 30 years as an incredibly dedicated kindergarten teacher AND surviving polio, paralysis, child birth, an abusive marriage, single motherhood, macular degeneration resulting in 85% sight loss, being hit by a car, being thrown from a bus, CANCER, and a bout of chemotherapy that actually stopped her heart twice, the fucking Universe might finally be doing her a good turn. Barb and her son Jason (stubborn, ridiculous, unstoppable, male-nurse-turned-lawyer) have been family friends as long as I can remember so I never properly appreciated how amazing they are but when you write it down in a list like that... I don't even know what to say. Go Barb!
Against ALL odds, things are looking up for Barb! The latest tests indicate that, after some incredibly intense chemo, her cancer is gone, the fractures in her rib cage and spine are healing, and her lawsuit against the city may eventuate in a settlement that could comfortably support her in retirement! After serving the world for 30 years as an incredibly dedicated kindergarten teacher AND surviving polio, paralysis, child birth, an abusive marriage, single motherhood, macular degeneration resulting in 85% sight loss, being hit by a car, being thrown from a bus, CANCER, and a bout of chemotherapy that actually stopped her heart twice, the fucking Universe might finally be doing her a good turn. Barb and her son Jason (stubborn, ridiculous, unstoppable, male-nurse-turned-lawyer) have been family friends as long as I can remember so I never properly appreciated how amazing they are but when you write it down in a list like that... I don't even know what to say. Go Barb!
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Today = awesome
1. ALEVE
Note to self: You seriously need to start doing some fucking yoga or something, you're too young for this shit. I hear it's called "core strength."
Hmmm. I don't know why today is awesome, exactly, but it is!!! Things are looking up!!!
Saturday, January 19, 2013
decay
By now, we all know that reddit is amazing. I mean, Aziz Ansari said as much on Parks and Rec. There can be no argument. My favorite tab is TodayILearned and TIL about the most amazing shit to do with fungi and the Carboniferous period and maggots because some awesome person posted a link to a youtube upload of a BBC production on decay.
No, seriously, it was awesome.
Here it is, all hour and a half of it. *Totally worth it*.
Maggots breathe through their asses so they can fully immerse their heads in muck! Genius.
Unrelatedly, I also include this:
No, seriously, it was awesome.
Here it is, all hour and a half of it. *Totally worth it*.
Maggots breathe through their asses so they can fully immerse their heads in muck! Genius.
Unrelatedly, I also include this:
Friday, January 18, 2013
Is that you, year of the snake?
Dear all,
Supreme apologies for falling down on blogging. In defence of self, I'm saving you from ultra-boring blog posts about my job and my thoughts about my job.
To make a long story short, while every day something sit-com worthy happens and I scramble to put out whatever fire has started since the day before and, let's be honest, just focus on getting through my classes, all things are going fine at the job.
I mean, there was that thing with the ILL desk on Monday and then the ass't dean said that other thing to me and then colleague X saddled me with shitty task Y and then someone reminded me how I should publish more and that student in class whatever asked me the difference between rococo and baroque and whatthefuckever. You've missed nothing.
It's pretty much like this:
But this year is infinity times better than last year because E is here! *And* I'm finally getting some lectures in the bag so am not spending all my time educating self on material that needs to be lecturized, powerpointed, and performedthe next day that morning. I only spend half of my time doing that, now. So everyone is right, it gets better!
Things to report: Went to Calgary at the beginning of December to spend time with the fam and get our Family Portrait taken. Things were generally fine and saw my sister. She's been back from India since November and will be staying in Calgary with my parents until February. In allegedly unrelated news, my parents booked an impromptu trip to Jamaica for most of January.
Really, the trip back was good. It was a nice visit but also there's nothing that can validate me in my life choices quite like going back to Cowtown to hear about which shade of beige Cousin Meg will pick for her condo (toasted marshmallow), what my father thinks about global warming (that hoax!), my Uncle Gerald's take on gas prices (they purposely raise the prices on the weekends!), Uncle Dave's thoughts about gun control (it's the first step towards communism), and what Cousin Ryan has learned after 5 years of being a firefighter (immigrants cause fires). If I achieve nothing else in life, I fucking made it out of Calgary and that is something.
Things that are awesome (other than having E in Otts and Montoya, natch):
1)
Xmas gift from E: the Super Juicer!!!! Iloveitsomuch!!!!
Any vegetable that finds itself looking up at me from the weekly veggie bin delivery is hereby given notice: if you are shitty, you will be juiced! I'm looking at you, beets. Beet juice is a revelation! Also, a little bit of cucumber makes every juice amazing! Ginger is more powerful than you can imagine. It's like this:
2)
The new Batwoman comics!! Hydrology (the first adventure) is okay but I would recommend Batwoman #12-15 (15 is the latest one I can find), where it's a crossover with Batwoman and WonderWoman.
The way they've resurrected Batwoman is interesting and already dated: tough-as-nails and a patriot (of course!), Kate Kane joined the Marines, only to be kicked out under DADT when her lesbionic identity was discovered! The only way she can truly fulfill her crime-fighting potential is to become a vigilante in the Batman, Inc. ilk (of course!). The comic is really super gay (I mean, not just in terms of subtext like all the man comics but in actual text). Who would have thought it, amIright?
3) My Slanket! TM.
Xmas gift from E: It's a blanket with sleeves, get it! So you can lay down on the couch and not subject your arms to terrible cool temperatures, such is what happens when one reads a book or eats or attempts to grade things with just a normal blanket for warmth. It is genius. My one criticism: it needs more armholes. If you're lazy enough to require a Slanket (TM), you're lazy enough to not want to turn the thing around and around trying to find the armholes.
4) IL Prosecco from Mionetto
Thanks to Prof H for this one. It's citrusy, delicious, and doesn't leave you feeling skunky the next day.
5) Long underwear from Mountain Equipment Co-op:
A favorite combination is bullfrog for the top:
And Aegean Blue for the bottoms:
You might think these are like any old long underwear but you would be so very wrong. These are long underwear that will change your life. They are like a second skin of power. Spiderman would be so lucky to have a suit of this kind.
Is this blog post not just proof that I live in a place where Winter is fucking real and fucking on, man?
Wait for the skating update.
Supreme apologies for falling down on blogging. In defence of self, I'm saving you from ultra-boring blog posts about my job and my thoughts about my job.
To make a long story short, while every day something sit-com worthy happens and I scramble to put out whatever fire has started since the day before and, let's be honest, just focus on getting through my classes, all things are going fine at the job.
I mean, there was that thing with the ILL desk on Monday and then the ass't dean said that other thing to me and then colleague X saddled me with shitty task Y and then someone reminded me how I should publish more and that student in class whatever asked me the difference between rococo and baroque and whatthefuckever. You've missed nothing.
It's pretty much like this:
But this year is infinity times better than last year because E is here! *And* I'm finally getting some lectures in the bag so am not spending all my time educating self on material that needs to be lecturized, powerpointed, and performed
Things to report: Went to Calgary at the beginning of December to spend time with the fam and get our Family Portrait taken. Things were generally fine and saw my sister. She's been back from India since November and will be staying in Calgary with my parents until February. In allegedly unrelated news, my parents booked an impromptu trip to Jamaica for most of January.
Really, the trip back was good. It was a nice visit but also there's nothing that can validate me in my life choices quite like going back to Cowtown to hear about which shade of beige Cousin Meg will pick for her condo (toasted marshmallow), what my father thinks about global warming (that hoax!), my Uncle Gerald's take on gas prices (they purposely raise the prices on the weekends!), Uncle Dave's thoughts about gun control (it's the first step towards communism), and what Cousin Ryan has learned after 5 years of being a firefighter (immigrants cause fires). If I achieve nothing else in life, I fucking made it out of Calgary and that is something.
Things that are awesome (other than having E in Otts and Montoya, natch):
1)
Any vegetable that finds itself looking up at me from the weekly veggie bin delivery is hereby given notice: if you are shitty, you will be juiced! I'm looking at you, beets. Beet juice is a revelation! Also, a little bit of cucumber makes every juice amazing! Ginger is more powerful than you can imagine. It's like this:
2)
The way they've resurrected Batwoman is interesting and already dated: tough-as-nails and a patriot (of course!), Kate Kane joined the Marines, only to be kicked out under DADT when her lesbionic identity was discovered! The only way she can truly fulfill her crime-fighting potential is to become a vigilante in the Batman, Inc. ilk (of course!). The comic is really super gay (I mean, not just in terms of subtext like all the man comics but in actual text). Who would have thought it, amIright?
3) My Slanket! TM.
4) IL Prosecco from Mionetto
Thanks to Prof H for this one. It's citrusy, delicious, and doesn't leave you feeling skunky the next day.
5) Long underwear from Mountain Equipment Co-op:
A favorite combination is bullfrog for the top:
Is this blog post not just proof that I live in a place where Winter is fucking real and fucking on, man?
Wait for the skating update.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
You can be replaced.
Truer words were never spoken.
Some of you may recall a few years back when I blogged about the sale of my grandmother's house and how weird it was to let go.
Well... we sold the place to a developer, he knocked everything down and put up something else:
Wine & Cheese
Beautiful Briar Hill Custom Home
$2,399,900
Please join us Friday, November 16 from 4-6 pm at 1320 21A STREET NW!Be the first to view this stunning new build by Stonebriar Crafted Homes! Over 5000 Sq Ft of fully developed, luxurious living space featuring 4 bedrooms up. Located on a quiet street close to all amenities - just steps to Briar Hill Elementary School.
Beautiful Briar Hill Custom Home
$2,399,900
Please join us Friday, November 16 from 4-6 pm at 1320 21A STREET NW!Be the first to view this stunning new build by Stonebriar Crafted Homes! Over 5000 Sq Ft of fully developed, luxurious living space featuring 4 bedrooms up. Located on a quiet street close to all amenities - just steps to Briar Hill Elementary School.
The maple tree out front is still the same. And maybe that walkway.
Also: TWO MILLION PLUS FUCKING DOLLARS!!! We sold it for, like, a fifth of that. Calgary, you sure are a crazy place to try to live in.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Dear Charmin
For the past 35 dog years, I've watched your stupid, stupefying commercials. I have suspended my disbelief regarding the usage of toilet paper among bear-kind. While I have openly questioned how it could ever be possible that a pantless child-bear, feeling the need to wipe its own ass after shitting in the woods, could leave several bits of toilet paper all over said ass once, let alone enough times that he would require regular ass-inspection (and mild shaming) from Momma Bear, before this moment I have not turned to the internet to announce my misgivings. Many others have -- if you type "Charmin commercials" into google, the suggested search that comes up is, "Charmin commercials disgusting."Go down that path if you wish.
The first commercial was jarring, the next few equally jarring. Mostly because I couldn't believe that your company was sticking with this ad campaign and that some collection of MadMen were sitting around a boardroom table pitching a whole set of and-then-the-bear-has-bits-of-toilet-paper-all-over-his-ass! commercials. What were the ones you chose not to make? What crossed the line?
The commercials themselves are plenty disturbing but here's what's really getting to me: the complete lack of improvement shown by the child-bear in the past 5 years. Seriously, bear, what *exactly* is wrong with you that you can't figure this out by now? In the second-to-last instalment in the series, you were playing video games on top of a bunch of cushions you stole from the couch. So you can figure that out but you can't wipe your own ass properly? What the fuck, bear?
The latest commercial is even more horrific than the previous ones (and that's really saying something) because it has Momma Bear going through her bear-child's dirty laundry (strange because the bear-child is usually pantless) and finding a pair of tighty-whities with SKID MARKS in them. That's right, his problem has evolved from toilet paper bits (perhaps indicative of too much wiping?) to nasty skid marks, clearly indicative of lack of wiping. Momma Bear, I ask it again, what the hell is wrong with your child?
Maybe this is the kind of thing that all parents go through and my incredulity re: the child-bear's apparent bathroom disability only comes from my lack of experience with ass-inspecting children. I don't know. But this whole thing has gone on wayyyyyy too long, that's what I'm saying.
As for your actual product, Charmin, I have absolutely no thoughts about it whatsoever. Sometimes I buy it when it's on sale, sometimes I buy other toilet paper. It all seems to work.
Best wishes,
D
nonsequitur
Once, I had a student who was named something very, very similar to Larryjeff. All one word.
Once I had a student come up to me after class, say how much she enjoyed class, and then say that she was also registered in one of my classes next term and was really excited about it. I said, "Great!" or something like that. The next day, she withdrew from both classes and I haven't seen her since.
Once, one of my students sent me a pic of a horse being born as proof of why she was missing class that day. The accompanying email didn't explain to me that the pic was of a horse being born - I got that info later when she was back in class. The image continues to haunt me and if I ever cut an album, I'm going to see if that pic can be the album cover. I'd post it here but I don't want it on my blog. It's kind of like this one only more of a close-up. Album cover, yes; blog, no.
Once, one of my students sent me emails regularly that began with the greeting, "Hey there, ..." It always made me think of the Ryan Gosling Hey Girl meme.
Once, I had only 3 weeks of classes left in the semester. It was both amazing and horrific at the same time.
Once I had a student come up to me after class, say how much she enjoyed class, and then say that she was also registered in one of my classes next term and was really excited about it. I said, "Great!" or something like that. The next day, she withdrew from both classes and I haven't seen her since.
Once, one of my students sent me a pic of a horse being born as proof of why she was missing class that day. The accompanying email didn't explain to me that the pic was of a horse being born - I got that info later when she was back in class. The image continues to haunt me and if I ever cut an album, I'm going to see if that pic can be the album cover. I'd post it here but I don't want it on my blog. It's kind of like this one only more of a close-up. Album cover, yes; blog, no.
Once, one of my students sent me emails regularly that began with the greeting, "Hey there, ..." It always made me think of the Ryan Gosling Hey Girl meme.
Once, I had only 3 weeks of classes left in the semester. It was both amazing and horrific at the same time.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
My thoughts on collegial engagement with the (inevitable) conclusion of how I think I'm awesome
Your colleagues are a lot like your family -- you can't pick them, you're not all working for the same goal, you don't have to take their advice but you have to pretend you're listening to it, there are hierarchies that do and don't make sense, and you are all supposed to live in the same house. I think of the family home like a Romneyesque mansion where some members hide in their rooms and only come out for meals, some keep getting their artwork put up on the refrigerator, and others are always vacuuming at inappropriate times. Somehow we're still supposed to be a family. Excommunication is not an option.
I think just acknowledging that is a step in the right direction.
Like my family, my colleagues can surprise me. I'm trying to think about the things that I love about history and about my job.
I like that history is essentially about people. I'm not a people person but I'm not a misanthrope (those two things aren't binary opposites) and I like how by studying history you essentially study the spectrum of humanity. We can get all classicist and shit about it with Terence: Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto, or "I am a human being, I consider nothing that is human alien to me." The stakes are always about how folks live their lives and that seems important to me.
I like that there's lots of different ways to do history. My own training and whatnot has me with strengths in some areas and weaknesses in others and someone with different training and whatnot has a different set of strengths and weaknesses. We can both produce viable history. Actually, it's essential that we both produce viable histories because neither of us can do it on our own or even in tandem -- in order to have any value, the discipline requires diversity. We are longgggg past the point where the definitive book on Subject X is possible. I'm not entirely sure why so many of my colleagues insist on evaluating everything in terms of how many degrees away it is from how they would do it (or more to the point, if it's written in a manner that is pleasing to their storybook training). This frustrates me. Recognizing the value of diversity in methodology is actually fundamental to recognizing the value of diversity period.
I am aging (teaching 19-year-olds reminds one of this, often) but not yet aged (the aged reveal themselves to me on a daily basis as well), and one of the sheer delights about the whole thing is that you get a much better sense of what you're good at, what you could be good at, what you don't have to be good at, and what your weaknesses are.
Goal: remember all of these things and all of the above.
Conclusion: I am awesome!
ps If Mittens wins this election, I seriously don't know how I'm going to react. It will be extreme and dramatic. I could threaten to move to Canada (# of people who threaten to move to Canada if X happens in the US: millions; # who actually do: 0. Babies! Way to walk the walk, people) but I'm already here and realize that a Republican win will fuck up my country too. I so hope this neck-and-neck polling is just CNN bullshit drama that, like most CNN bullshit drama, will not be real when the time comes.
pps E is on a plane, flying home to Montoya and me as I type this! Steer clear of Hurricane Sandy, Lufthansa! It's only 3 hrs late so far but this will give us time to clean up the apartment. And by us I mean me.
I think just acknowledging that is a step in the right direction.
Like my family, my colleagues can surprise me. I'm trying to think about the things that I love about history and about my job.
I like that history is essentially about people. I'm not a people person but I'm not a misanthrope (those two things aren't binary opposites) and I like how by studying history you essentially study the spectrum of humanity. We can get all classicist and shit about it with Terence: Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto, or "I am a human being, I consider nothing that is human alien to me." The stakes are always about how folks live their lives and that seems important to me.
I like that there's lots of different ways to do history. My own training and whatnot has me with strengths in some areas and weaknesses in others and someone with different training and whatnot has a different set of strengths and weaknesses. We can both produce viable history. Actually, it's essential that we both produce viable histories because neither of us can do it on our own or even in tandem -- in order to have any value, the discipline requires diversity. We are longgggg past the point where the definitive book on Subject X is possible. I'm not entirely sure why so many of my colleagues insist on evaluating everything in terms of how many degrees away it is from how they would do it (or more to the point, if it's written in a manner that is pleasing to their storybook training). This frustrates me. Recognizing the value of diversity in methodology is actually fundamental to recognizing the value of diversity period.
I am aging (teaching 19-year-olds reminds one of this, often) but not yet aged (the aged reveal themselves to me on a daily basis as well), and one of the sheer delights about the whole thing is that you get a much better sense of what you're good at, what you could be good at, what you don't have to be good at, and what your weaknesses are.
Goal: remember all of these things and all of the above.
Conclusion: I am awesome!
ps If Mittens wins this election, I seriously don't know how I'm going to react. It will be extreme and dramatic. I could threaten to move to Canada (# of people who threaten to move to Canada if X happens in the US: millions; # who actually do: 0. Babies! Way to walk the walk, people) but I'm already here and realize that a Republican win will fuck up my country too. I so hope this neck-and-neck polling is just CNN bullshit drama that, like most CNN bullshit drama, will not be real when the time comes.pps E is on a plane, flying home to Montoya and me as I type this! Steer clear of Hurricane Sandy, Lufthansa! It's only 3 hrs late so far but this will give us time to clean up the apartment. And by us I mean me.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
68 hours to go!
68 hours until E is back in the 'twa!!!! Can Montoya and I make it? We've been hitting the Cowboy Junkies pretty hard, alls I'm saying.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
14 Days
At the halfway point until E comes back and almost exactly halfway through the semester. Things are going as well as can be expected, really!
So today I have two things I'm thinking about, neither of which are terribly important or pressing but it's Saturday and I'm a little hungover (Prof H's birthday last night, very fun).
1. Because so many of you are parents or older and wiser than me, I want to plumb your knowledge. I live in a neighbourhood that's overflowing with children and family pets. I see some things. This is a little segment new to the blog I want to call:
Good Parenting or Bad Parenting?
Scenario: Father and two children (6-8 year olds, I guess) are out for an afternoon bike ride. They are all properly attired in helmets and gear, are riding their bikes on the street, but are not keeping tight to the curb at all. Car, clearly going too fast for a residential area, zooms by them, scares everyone, and jolts to a stop, intending to turn left. Father rides his bike over to the stopped car and bitches out the driver for Driving Too Fast in a Residential Area Where There Are Children On Bikes. Car driver flips Daddy-O the bird and zooms off. Father rides back to his children and they resume their bike ride, altering their behaviour in zero ways. Good Parenting or Bad Parenting?
A) Good parenting! Father has modelled excellent citizen behaviour by stepping up and letting the guilty party know that they are the guilty party and that We Are Watching You and that bad behaviour will get an angry Talking To. Children feel like Father has their back and is possibly bad-ass.
B) Bad parenting! The correct response would have been for Father to go to his children and explain how there are assholes everywhere and alls they can do is be vigilant and Look Out For Assholes and not expect all cars to drive by/around them amusedly.
C) Um, that wasn't parenting so much as Alpha Male behaviour. Take-away message for children is either that Dad is the Shit or Dad Thinks He's the Shit or Fast-Car-Driver is the Shit.
D) I can't believe I read this much text and this is all it's amounted to. Shame on you, D. Shame on you.
E) Other (please explain).
2. Here's another segment I want to introduce to the blog called:
Who's the Asshole?
No, this is not an alternate title for Two and a Half Men. This is real life.
Scenario: My father and I don't really have the best relationship. From the age of 8 until just a few years ago, I thought of him like how I imagine schoolchildren think of their schoolyard bully. It's only since he's retired and has, I think, begun to feel old and irrelevant that he's also begun to be much less of an asshole. His behaviour has changed so dramatically that I'm worried that he's been either diagnosed with some horrible disease he's not telling me about or is doing the 12 Steps (again). Our latest email exchange is an example.
Oct 1, YFALF: HEY KID, YOUR MOTHER SAID YOU GAVE A PAPER THE OTHER DAY THAT WENT PRETTY WELL. SEND IT TO YOUR OLD MAN AND I'LL READ IT. MIGHT BE INTERESTING TO SEE WHAT YOU WRITE ABOUT.
Oct 4, D: Really? I feel strongly that it will cure all insomnia. In the middle of my talk someone stood up to shake out their legs. See attached!
Oct 5, YFALF: Brown Eyes: FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH, I ENJOYED YOUR PAPER IMMENSELY. YOU FOCUSED ON AREAS THAT I DON'T THINK HAVE BEEN ANALYZED IN THAT WAY BEFORE. I WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YOU SEND ME SOME OTHERS THAT YOU HAVE DONE.
[D thinks to self: Am I being punk'd???? What the hell is going on????]
Oct 7, D: Thanks for this, Dad! Okay, you asked for it! See attached for a couple of other papers I gave last year and my job talk!
Oct 8, YFALF: JUST FINISHED READING ALL OF YOUR PAPERS AND ENJOYED THEM ALL VERY MUCH. I DON'T ALWAYS AGREE WITH YOUR OPINIONS BUT YOU MAKE THEM IN A VERY IMPACTFUL WAY AND I ADMIRE THAT VERY MUCH. YOUR IDEAS ABOUT CREDIT ARE WAY OFF BUT WHAT THE HELL. SOME DAY I WOULD LIKE TO WATCH ONE OF YOUR CLASSES.
[D thinks to self: um, those aren't opinions but okay, I'll take this. WHAT. IS. HAPPENING?!]
Oct 10, D: Thanks, Dad! That's really great to hear!
Oct 12, YFALF: I'VE BEEN THINKING A LOT ABOUT THE SPICE TRADE AND I THINK I WANT TO WRITE A BOOK ABOUT IT. YOU'VE INSPIRED ME, KID!
I haven't written back yet because seriouslywhatthefuck. Has my sister hacked into his email account and is playing the best-planned prank of her life? Am I a complete asshole for immediately thinking, I've gone to school for the last fifteen years so that I can become qualified to write this shit and you presume to critique my work? And then you presume to be able to do it yourself? I'm also a little miffed that he can be a world-class A-hole for 36 years and I'm supposed to be all elated that he's finally treating me like a human? Have I become the asshole? Is this the circle of life?
I have absolutely no idea what to make of any of this.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone
A piece from the "Convos with Mother" files, dramatized for your enjoyment:
I like to think that she is so traumatized by what is happening to her friend that she is in some kind of denial.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Send power to Barb!
Friday, October 5, 2012
T Giving already!
Dear all,
I can only apologize for allowing the blog to fall into ruin and decay! My job is leaving me with precious little in the way of interesting things to say beyond topics such as:
1) kids these days!
2) who thought University Decision X was a good idea?
3) can you believe the make-work shenanigan Colleague R through Z got me into?
4) omgIhavesomuchworktodoomgIshouldbedoingitomg
It is our Thanksgiving Break here in the 'Twa (all 2 days of it) and, holy crap!, I need it.
Update:
1) E is in Russia to do research on The Things She Works On. All is well - she has an apartment, a cleaning lady who keeps unplugging her refrigerator, and a registered visa. There are 80% less street food options in Moscow than when she was there last and that is a real pisser. Montoya and I are literally counting the days until her return (22!) and it feels like all the sunshine has gone out of Ottawa.
2) All the sunshine has gone out of Ottawa! As I type this, it's pouring down rain and there are 4 roofing guys on my neighbour's roof yelling all kinds of important-sounding information at one another in French. One of the Francos seems particularly angry/outraged at the situation. Another seems perfectly content. The one Anglo is roaming around yelling, "WHAT THE FUCK!" every few minutes and the fourth guy is whistling loudly. If my brain had any juice left in it I might be able to come up with a clever commentary on how this is Canada (dis)functioning in microcosm but because this scenario happens every goddamned day from 7:30 am onwards it might just be another day in the 'Twa.
3) Lovely Jess asked me to circulate recipes I've discovered while on the WeightWatchers. I'm happy to oblige.
I can only apologize for allowing the blog to fall into ruin and decay! My job is leaving me with precious little in the way of interesting things to say beyond topics such as:
1) kids these days!
2) who thought University Decision X was a good idea?
3) can you believe the make-work shenanigan Colleague R through Z got me into?
4) omgIhavesomuchworktodoomgIshouldbedoingitomg
It is our Thanksgiving Break here in the 'Twa (all 2 days of it) and, holy crap!, I need it.
Update:
1) E is in Russia to do research on The Things She Works On. All is well - she has an apartment, a cleaning lady who keeps unplugging her refrigerator, and a registered visa. There are 80% less street food options in Moscow than when she was there last and that is a real pisser. Montoya and I are literally counting the days until her return (22!) and it feels like all the sunshine has gone out of Ottawa.
2) All the sunshine has gone out of Ottawa! As I type this, it's pouring down rain and there are 4 roofing guys on my neighbour's roof yelling all kinds of important-sounding information at one another in French. One of the Francos seems particularly angry/outraged at the situation. Another seems perfectly content. The one Anglo is roaming around yelling, "WHAT THE FUCK!" every few minutes and the fourth guy is whistling loudly. If my brain had any juice left in it I might be able to come up with a clever commentary on how this is Canada (dis)functioning in microcosm but because this scenario happens every goddamned day from 7:30 am onwards it might just be another day in the 'Twa.
3) Lovely Jess asked me to circulate recipes I've discovered while on the WeightWatchers. I'm happy to oblige.
Exhibit A
Weight Watchers Cheesecake
Ingredients:
2 rice cakes (extra dry)
1 tbsp of light cream cheese
1 tsp honey
WW points: 3
Prep time: 47 sec
Eat time: 33 seconds
Satisfying for: 18 minutes
Exhibit B:
Weight Watchers Pizza
Ingredients:
2 rice cakes (extra dry)
2 squirts of light caesar salad dressing
2 slices of deli meat
2 slices of tomato
10 crumbled bits of light feta cheese
WW points: 9
Prep time: 7 minutes
Eat time: 3 minutes
Satisfying for: 48 minutes
I invented the first one; E, the second. It's amazing how delicious these are after you've been on WW for months and months.
4) My adherence to the WW plan has been very, very loose since E has gone to Russia.
5) I dislike Michael Kors of fashion world fame and Project Runway celebrity for two reasons. I feel like voicing them now:
First, the zingers he comes up with on Project Runway are deliberately mean and he only says them to get airtime on the show. They are rarely constructive or witty. When he delivers them he gets this look on his face like he's winning at Salon and it's 1788. This makes me think he is an asshole.
Second, and a much more egregious offence in my opinion, is the fact that he wears the same fucking thing every episode. WHAT A COMPLETE ASSHOLE! If you're in the fashion business, fucking wear it. This is why I love Heidi and Tim Gunn: they are walking the walk. Nina Garcia is perhaps trying to pull off the Michael Kors m.o. by not making terribly noticeable fashion decisions week to week but at least I know she's wearing different outfits. How that dick expects anyone to pay for anything he's designed when he clearly doesn't respect the business enough to engage in it himself is beyond me. Asshole!
I apologize for coming late to PR commentary but my fury at the Michael Kors cannot be contained any longer. He's not even aware enough to be a hipster douchebag and his skin tone is the same as Schwarzenegger's. Dislike. Why is he relevant???
6) Am going to take Montoya for a long walk and use today to relax! Step 1: 2 orders of WW cheesecake. And maybe a side of bacon. Step 2: ???
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
What to do now?
WeightWatchers update: On Monday, E and I began our weekly Weigh-In with hope in our hearts. We had been good, mostly, and Monday was Day forty-fucking-three. We thought we'd earned it. Instead: devastation! Both of us weighed exactly the same as the week before and the week before that. The pain! The disillusionment! The resentment! WW Online informed us that we had hit a "plateau" and basically accused us of incorrectly recording our daily points. Oh, hell to the no! So we did what anyone else in our position would do: we drove directly to Canadian Tire and bought a new scale. I can now recommend that as the best dieting tip I've learned so far (New Scale gave us a much lower reading than the old one). I plan to sell all the old scales we collect on ebay.
Now that the Olympics are over, I have no idea what to do with all my time. I mean, I have *some* idea but work doesn't seem that compelling and certainly not as gripping as women's soccer or taekwondo or even kayaking. For my American readers, you probably were only vaguely aware that these sports existed at the Olympics but they do and Canadians were in them though, of course, not as gold medalists. We won our sole gold medal in trampolining (which is an awesome sport to watch, fyi), and I'm actually really proud of our modest medal count because it seems a little more balanced and organic and sane than other efforts out there. While I would have given it all up for commercial-free BBC coverage, in the great white north we had the enviable luxury of being able to watch all kinds of different Olympic coverage: CTV (who had the major rights to the games this time around, next time it will rotate to the CBC), TSN (our version of ESPN; it was allowed to augment CTV coverage), the French versions of these channels (which usually showed different sports), NBC (the place to go for commercials, Bob Costas, swimming, Bolt, and American women's gymnastics), and BBC highlights. For sure, I'm not saying that all of this coverage offered a comprehensive view of the games at all - in 6 channels I still never saw anything about handball or field hockey, for example. But I also never got up off the couch long enough to check it out on the interwebs so that shit's on me.
Things I learned:
1) All commentators, particularly the all-sport dudes out there who are sent in to commentate on anything from synchronized diving to steeplechase, are just Michael Scott and Perd Hapley.
Now that the Olympics are over, I have no idea what to do with all my time. I mean, I have *some* idea but work doesn't seem that compelling and certainly not as gripping as women's soccer or taekwondo or even kayaking. For my American readers, you probably were only vaguely aware that these sports existed at the Olympics but they do and Canadians were in them though, of course, not as gold medalists. We won our sole gold medal in trampolining (which is an awesome sport to watch, fyi), and I'm actually really proud of our modest medal count because it seems a little more balanced and organic and sane than other efforts out there. While I would have given it all up for commercial-free BBC coverage, in the great white north we had the enviable luxury of being able to watch all kinds of different Olympic coverage: CTV (who had the major rights to the games this time around, next time it will rotate to the CBC), TSN (our version of ESPN; it was allowed to augment CTV coverage), the French versions of these channels (which usually showed different sports), NBC (the place to go for commercials, Bob Costas, swimming, Bolt, and American women's gymnastics), and BBC highlights. For sure, I'm not saying that all of this coverage offered a comprehensive view of the games at all - in 6 channels I still never saw anything about handball or field hockey, for example. But I also never got up off the couch long enough to check it out on the interwebs so that shit's on me.
Things I learned:
1) All commentators, particularly the all-sport dudes out there who are sent in to commentate on anything from synchronized diving to steeplechase, are just Michael Scott and Perd Hapley.
It's not a matter of if they're going to say something offensive or ridiculous, it's just a matter of when and how many times. Don't they have to go through some kind of sensitivity training? Or worse thought: they've already done the training and passed with flying colours.
Moments prior to one of the main track events, CTV ran a background piece on the place of sprinting in Jamaica - how it's a massive spectator sport even at the gradeschool level, how a lot of resources are channeled into producing excellent sprinters, how successful sprinters attain superstar status, etc etc. I was delighted because it presented a structural, socio-cultural explanation for how Jamaican runners have become so dominant in the sport. Wonderful work, CTV. Then we cut back to Brian Williams (the Canadian one) and he says, "You see? It's in their blood." And all of that good work just evaporated. I don't even want to know who Brian Williams thinks "they" are but seriously, dude, STFU.
4) NBC's coverage, of which there is so much written!, scared the shit out of me. This has been said before, but I still feel like echoing it: the emphasis on medals and winning and Americans, to the exclusion of all else, even context, seriously, seriously, seriously, ironically, reminded me of when NBC's 30 Rock satires North Korean coverage of anything. Yep, the difference is they didn't make up the news but that doesn't comfort me when you acknowledge that the two countries who won the most medals are the ones who invest in winning the most medals. Maybe it's called "overdetermining the news." Congrats! CTV's coverage certainly had its tunnel vision too. I only heard the Chinese national anthem twice via CTV - how is that even possible?
2) Brian Williams (I'm not talking about the NBC one) needs to retire. Right now. If you don't know who Brian Williams is, you're probably not Canadian. He has been a sportscaster, first with the CBC and now with CTV, my entire life. No, I don't think of him as someone I've grown up with, I think of him as the destroyer of Olympic coverage for the entire nation since 1984. I'm not just tired of seeing his face, like I am of Bob Costas'. I seriously think his work is subpar and his vibe infuriates me to no end. Dick Enberg (yes, the American one) is an old racist artifact, for sure, but hating him is like hating vanilla ice cream. My objection to Brian Williams is in a different category: imagine the content of Michael Scott's brain delivered with the intensity of a motivational speaker/actual journalist and with no regard for things like irony or even contemporary humour. Add pleasant packaging to that and it sounds like the recipe for a Republican candidate - but it's just Brian Williams. Go now, BW. Let someone else eff it up.
3) If Quebec ever separates and sends its own Olympic team, Canada is going to be effed in the eh/é. [I know, but I couldn't resist.]
4) NBC's coverage, of which there is so much written!, scared the shit out of me. This has been said before, but I still feel like echoing it: the emphasis on medals and winning and Americans, to the exclusion of all else, even context, seriously, seriously, seriously, ironically, reminded me of when NBC's 30 Rock satires North Korean coverage of anything. Yep, the difference is they didn't make up the news but that doesn't comfort me when you acknowledge that the two countries who won the most medals are the ones who invest in winning the most medals. Maybe it's called "overdetermining the news." Congrats! CTV's coverage certainly had its tunnel vision too. I only heard the Chinese national anthem twice via CTV - how is that even possible?
5) Speaking of a questionable moral compass, one of the most disturbing things about CTV is that it, like the Globe and Mail, is owned by Bell Media (yes, a fragment of the old American Bell monopoly, still alive and well in Canada). So we were tortured by "Olympic Twitter Updates" and the sad truth of what was trending on twitter is that it wasn't interesting or relevant. Athlete A thanks everyone at home for their support, Athlete B pledges to do his/her best in the next heat, Athlete C is having a great time with other people in this photo. The segments were always introduced as if this was the real story of what was going on out there, as if we were gaining valuable insight into the Arab Spring - which we were not. The only thing it did was attempt to sell mobile phone contracts and justify lack of support for actual journalism (and possibly de-fang any subversive potential social media might still have.) Sigh.
6) Sports are cool! I want to do some! I feel like my slowly, slowly shrinking 36-year-old body has some game left. What? Where? When? Don't know but I'm on the lookout and have been reminded that there are lots of different sports to choose from. Stay tuned!
Monday, July 30, 2012
Did That Just Happen?
Friends, Birthday Week was pretty awesome. It's hard to recount all the awesome. It's hard to make sense of it all. What I know for sure is this: today, I am sore all over and have a hangover, there are some pictures on my camera that I don't remember taking, the dog is exhausted, E can barely form sentences, and there's a lot of dirty laundry.
Where to begin? Oh, yes, I know: Wednesday, July 25th, 2012 - the day I went off my diet (or la dieta as we lovingly refer to it). Before you call the dieta police, I'll say this: between July 25th and July 30th, I ate a lot, I drank *a lot*, but as of weigh-in this morning I am only ONE POUND heavier!!! It's a birthday week miracle! WeightWatchers Online gave me some passive-aggressive bullshit beginning with, "Your weight has increased this week. Are you happy with this result?" but it can suck it because I am *ecstatic* with this result.
Stunning salmon dinner cooked by EF.
I got a MOFO iRobot Roomba from my parents for my birthday (Note: yes, Wednesday was technically not my birthday but the mail carrier brought my present on Wednesday and that's when I opened it). Pet Series!!! That's right, suckas, I have a robot vacuum cleaner. It's a ROBOT. It does my bidding. I've named it Rex. I *love* it. To head off your first question: no, I will not claim for self vacuuming activity points that Rex gets. Second question: yes, I do know how to vacuum. Third question: shut up! I don't have to answer your questions. I own a ROBOT and it vacuums for me.
Rex is so awesome - it looks like he moves in a random fashion but I believe otherwise. Expect Rex updates to follow.
My actual birthday!!! So made of awesome, by definition.
It was the one day in virtually this entire summer that it has rained in Ontario. Seriously, we are having a record drought here, except for on my big day! Other factors working to dampen (heh) birthday spirit: we had to go pick up E's mother in Peterborough to take her to Mississauga for E's brother's wedding on Saturday. It could have been a disaster. But instead, awesome. Here's why:
En route rural Ontario attractions included this stop at the super-creepy abandoned Iron Mine of Marmora (not Moria, but I can see the confusion). The "lake" is the hole in the ground that used to be the mine and it's filled up with beautiful, unnaturally bright blue, creepy, still water (no giant squid sighted). Rainy ambiance was best for viewing massive pit and there wasn't a soul around for miles.
Next we went to Petroglyphs Provincial Park which is actually a relatively small forest (that day foggy and silent with rain) and is on territory sacred to the Ojibwe people. There is a massive natural marble slab in the middle of the forest and on it is carved sacred picto-text detailing Algonquin belief, created sometime between AD 900 and 1400. Groups of young men would be led on pilgrimages to this and other petroglyph sites across North America to bond, mature, and be educated. It was amazing to visit and I absolutely love the idea of the primacy of religious pilgrimage going on at basically the same time in Europe, the Middle East, and North America:
The site is still used for worship - how cool is that?
Then E (everyday with E is awesome, natch) took me to the Best Restaurant Ever - in nowhere Ontario (who would have thunk it?) and I had birthday gimlet, duck confit, and rack of lamb and was -- remarkably -- too full for dessert. Fabulous, fabulous birthday. Totally, totally go to The Riverhouse Co. to eat if you can.
As E and her mother were checking in to the Holiday Inn the front desk clerk did us a "favour" and gave us adjoining rooms. It was that kind of time.
At the reception, rumours flew that Steve (fake name for E's dad) was "gaunt" and possibly diseased - these rumours were started by Elmira (fake name for E's mom). Steve struck back, loudly positing that Elmira had had some ill-executed plastic surgery done and declared, "That's not the woman I married!" We spent many convos quashing both rumours but also secretly wondering about them.
What was truly inspiring and rejuvenating about all of this was that all drama was quickly, quickly drowned out by the perfection of the wedding and the bride and groom's refusal to let other people's bullshit bother them. The fact that E and I were there together (and I was just meeting many of her relatives for the first time) didn't even register as a talking point (to my ears, anyway). Everyone was extremely warm and welcoming and both Elmira and Steve were doing their damnedest to outdo the other by being nice to me (which was very fun). And the bride and groom were/are so perfectly suited to one another, so much in love, and so on top of everything, that it just put the rest of us at ease. The wedding had the most incredible adult-cool-celebration vibe and it just lifted everyone else up the whole time.
The venue didn't hurt either! It was held at the bride's family home located on the shore of Lake Ontario and I've seriously never been to a nicer place in my life:
(Yeah, I wore the same thing to MR-C's wedding. I'll wear this to your wedding too, if you want!)
Monty even put in an appearance towards the midnight mark and shocked and delighted all with his aggressive-aggressive style.
It was a really, really fun wedding! I feel great!
Now - to recover from the hangover. And find a way to watch the opening ceremonies of those Olympics that I've been hearing so much about!
Where to begin? Oh, yes, I know: Wednesday, July 25th, 2012 - the day I went off my diet (or la dieta as we lovingly refer to it). Before you call the dieta police, I'll say this: between July 25th and July 30th, I ate a lot, I drank *a lot*, but as of weigh-in this morning I am only ONE POUND heavier!!! It's a birthday week miracle! WeightWatchers Online gave me some passive-aggressive bullshit beginning with, "Your weight has increased this week. Are you happy with this result?" but it can suck it because I am *ecstatic* with this result.
Why Wednesday was awesome:
Stunning salmon dinner cooked by EF.
Amazing multi-layer vanilla strawberry whipped-cream cake extravaganza created by none other than MH!!! Was amazing!!! Also, he brought this kind of wine and it is my new favourite, favourite, favourite: http://www.kimcrawfordwines.co.nz. Drink it. Do it.
Rex is so awesome - it looks like he moves in a random fashion but I believe otherwise. Expect Rex updates to follow.
Why Thursday was awesome:
My actual birthday!!! So made of awesome, by definition.
It was the one day in virtually this entire summer that it has rained in Ontario. Seriously, we are having a record drought here, except for on my big day! Other factors working to dampen (heh) birthday spirit: we had to go pick up E's mother in Peterborough to take her to Mississauga for E's brother's wedding on Saturday. It could have been a disaster. But instead, awesome. Here's why:
Next we went to Petroglyphs Provincial Park which is actually a relatively small forest (that day foggy and silent with rain) and is on territory sacred to the Ojibwe people. There is a massive natural marble slab in the middle of the forest and on it is carved sacred picto-text detailing Algonquin belief, created sometime between AD 900 and 1400. Groups of young men would be led on pilgrimages to this and other petroglyph sites across North America to bond, mature, and be educated. It was amazing to visit and I absolutely love the idea of the primacy of religious pilgrimage going on at basically the same time in Europe, the Middle East, and North America:
Then E (everyday with E is awesome, natch) took me to the Best Restaurant Ever - in nowhere Ontario (who would have thunk it?) and I had birthday gimlet, duck confit, and rack of lamb and was -- remarkably -- too full for dessert. Fabulous, fabulous birthday. Totally, totally go to The Riverhouse Co. to eat if you can.
Why the Rest of the Weekend was also Awesome in Unanticipated Ways:
Weddings. Weddings, weddings, weddings. Massive E Family time as her little brother tied the knot. I can't go into all the details but suffice it to say that E's parents, now divorced and her mother remarried, hadn't actually been in the same room together, much less spoken, in a few years (though they both live in Mexico - that's another story). It was *tense*. Different camps were devised to create neutral chit-chat territory, different hotels were booked, a rotating chauffeuring regimen was put in place - talk about activity points! Her mother (who is quite a character and enjoys drama) has 2 sisters who are also characters and also enjoy drama and enjoy ramping up the drama on each other - just for something to do. I have never been so thankful that my mother is an only child. One of her can drive me mental. E lives in a world where there are 3 of them and their stinging powers increase exponentially when they are in close proximity to one another - like a version of Charmed where everyone is in their 60s (and E's mom can Shannon Doherty-out like nobody's business).As E and her mother were checking in to the Holiday Inn the front desk clerk did us a "favour" and gave us adjoining rooms. It was that kind of time.
At the reception, rumours flew that Steve (fake name for E's dad) was "gaunt" and possibly diseased - these rumours were started by Elmira (fake name for E's mom). Steve struck back, loudly positing that Elmira had had some ill-executed plastic surgery done and declared, "That's not the woman I married!" We spent many convos quashing both rumours but also secretly wondering about them.
What was truly inspiring and rejuvenating about all of this was that all drama was quickly, quickly drowned out by the perfection of the wedding and the bride and groom's refusal to let other people's bullshit bother them. The fact that E and I were there together (and I was just meeting many of her relatives for the first time) didn't even register as a talking point (to my ears, anyway). Everyone was extremely warm and welcoming and both Elmira and Steve were doing their damnedest to outdo the other by being nice to me (which was very fun). And the bride and groom were/are so perfectly suited to one another, so much in love, and so on top of everything, that it just put the rest of us at ease. The wedding had the most incredible adult-cool-celebration vibe and it just lifted everyone else up the whole time.
The venue didn't hurt either! It was held at the bride's family home located on the shore of Lake Ontario and I've seriously never been to a nicer place in my life:
Friends, the above is not a postcard. It is a snapshot of the bride's lawn. For reals.
It was a really, really fun wedding! I feel great!
Now - to recover from the hangover. And find a way to watch the opening ceremonies of those Olympics that I've been hearing so much about!
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Learning Curve
Things I've learned about WW:
1) There is no special provision for Eating Week in the WW system -- astonishing given that the majority of WW patrons likely experience EW. This annoys the shit out of me! What, we're all supposed to just carry on like we are not hormonally compelled to eat more one week than another week and in decades upon decades of dieting research no single motherfucking scientist-for-hire has ever come across this phenomenon? Bullshit!!! Fuck you, you fucking assholes. (NB: it is possible that EW is related to PMS)
2) The Point System can compel you into new activities and -- dare I say it? -- a whole new lifestyle. For example, proceeding along the familiar dictate that, "Knowledge is power," I began to peruse the Point listings to come up with low-point food ideas. I was impressed by the seeming comprehensiveness of the system and quickly learned that 8 oz. of raw bear meat is 9 points whereas 8 oz. of raw polar bear meat is 7 points. Then I was delighted to learn that 1 hr of hunting gives me 4 Activity points! You know what that means: if it takes me 2 hrs to hunt a polar bear (likely given that I don't know how to do it) and I immediately eat 8oz of my kill, I'll still have 1 Activity point to burn! They didn't say how many Activity points it is to drag the carcass back to my house but "weight training, free weights, vigorous effort" is 4 points per hour so I'm thinking I can lose some serious poundage by taking up polar bear hunting as a hobby. This also aptly demonstrates why exile is tantamount to a death sentence in Inuit culture.
Other food points to memorize include:
Armadillo, cooked = 8 points/ 8oz
Squirrel, cooked: 9 points/ 8oz (is that, like, 8 squirrels?!?!)
Squirrel, raw: 6 points/ 8oz
Beaver, cooked: 11 points/ 8oz
Kangaroo, raw: 8 points/8 oz
Raccoon, cooked: 15 points/ 8oz
Opossum, cooked: 8 points/ 8oz
Muskrat, cooked: 13 points/ 8oz
Raccoon is probably delicious, methinks, because 15 points has to be good.
3) As comprehensive as the food and activity points lists are, they still have some glaring holes. For example:
Activity: backpacking, no load: 2 Activity points/30 minutes
What idiot goes backpacking with nothing in their backpack? Isn't that called "walking"? There is no entry for if you actually have something (like a raccoon) in your pack. Note to self: Look up "raccoon packing."
4) WW Online is a double-edged sword. Aside from the lists of points, WW also offers an online spreadsheet-type app that keeps track of all of your intake and activity. This service is seriously important because my dieter's/cultural historian brain cannot keep track of all of the addition and subtraction shit independently. But the downside is surveillance and robotic commentary. For example, after inputting "1 tsp butter" for the umpteenth breakfast in a row, the system chimed in to ask, "Would you like me to list BUTTER as one of your favourite foods?" and I almost punched my iPad. Clearly, WWO, butter *is* one of my favourites, otherwise I wouldn't be fucking paying for your service in the first place, but do we have to put it on a special list? Thanks, WWO, thanks so much.
My Favourite Foods List So Far:
Butter
Milk
Olive Oil
Sugar
Tea
Tomatoes
Water
Favorite Activities:
Backpacking, No Load
5) If there was some way I could be awarded Activity points for doing my work, I'd have a book by now. Fuck.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)