Thursday, November 5, 2009

Hey fatty! It's all relative...

So I am battling the buldge. At least I feel that way. I am 5'7 and 135lbs. This is by all accounts - from doctors, and even sketchy internet websites - is average.

But, average is not MY average.

People always tell me I don't have a right to complain because I'm not actually "big" but for me, for what i weighed the majority of my life compared to now - this is big. And really, just because a great deal of Americans and Canadians are classified as obese it does NOT take away my right to feel chubby. You do NOT have to be 300lbs to feel fat and want to be healthier/smaller and the fact that people judge or disapprove of "average" size people wanting to lose a few is how we became obese to begin with.

I don't want to be Kate Moss or Lindsay Lohan - even I think they are skeletons. But I don't want to be 135lbs either.

Weight's relative. Big for me isn't going to be big for you. And vice versa.

Up until I was 26 years old I weighed no more than 111lbs. I was a size ZERO. I know, you hate me. Here's more reason to hate me, I ate whatever the hell I wanted and was still only 111lbs. I did work out though - a lot - because I had free gym access and thought of it as more of a social activity and a way to hang out with girlfriends.

I never thought about my weight, but I also didn't spend every day of every week eating bags or oreos or only fried foods. I ate saldas because I liked salads. And I've been physically active my whole life. Always played sports, worked out etc. Well, except I never did a sit up in my life, but always had a flat belly. Again, hate me.

Then I moved to a shitty small town for a shittier journalism job on the other side of the country away from all friends and family. My theory, looking back, was that I was so unhappy I tried to eat my way out of the town.

Eventually I just simply drove myself out, but the damage was done. In 11 months I had gained 30 pounds. Now to put this in perspective I went from a size 0 to a size 6. (I'm basing my sizing on Gap jeans since I always wore them).

As soon as I settled in a bigger, better town and a better job, the weight naturally fell away. But not all of it. I dropped to about 125 pounds and a size 4.

Did I feel good? Yes and no. As far as I was concerned, I was still fat. Because for me - it was still bigger than what I was used to. What I had taken for granted. On top of which my body morphed with the weight. I grew hips and boobs and things I didn't have before and am still to this day not comfortable with. I loved my 10 year old boy stick figure. I honestly did.

In the last few months I've gone up to a size 6 again. I weigh about 135 lbs as I stated earlier. I blame this on a desk job and an engagement. Statistics say engaged people gained anywhere from 5 to 15 pounds. Happiness is fattening.

I've thought about asking the fiance to take the ring back for a weekend and pretend to change his mind so maybe I can lose the weight but instead I'm back on a strict exercise regiment.

I'm using's My Plate and Fitness section to monitor my calories and fitness. I'm starting hot yoga today and have been back in the gym at least 2 days a week.

I now actually do sit-ups.

My goal isn't to be 110 pounds again, not because I don't want to be but because I'm a realist and don't think it's possible anymore.

I'd love to be 125lbs. But would settle for 130 lbs. I just want my pants from last year to stop severing my interal organs. I'm hoping to be 130lbs by December 2 - before I go back to LA.

Will I still feel fat? Yeah probably. And if you're not obsese, but still feel fat you can bitch to me all you want. I get it.

Monday, September 21, 2009

August Rush

I watched August Rush last night. Shut. Up. It brought me back to a familiar theme.

I've been thinking about films like that (the music prodigy aspect of it aside, which was actually kind of sweet) quite a bit lately. I mean more the fairy-tale like quality of them, the completely improbable perfect hook-up and resulting love story. If I'd watched a film like that twenty years ago, I'd have fallen for it completely.

These types of films were what dictated our expectations, as young women. Small wonder we are so consistently disappointed by our relationships, if we are expecting this sort of thing to go on.
But then, on the other hand.. how much better is it to develop this thick cynical skin, and not wish for anything of the sort at all. It was interesting to watch myself saying OH COME ON LIKE THAT WOULD EVER HAPPEN..

And so i stopped, and tried for just a moment to get back into that old mindset. It was so illuminating, this stark contrast. This loss of simple hope we carry around, as we get older. I don't mean just romantically speaking, but about life, about the future, about everything.

And so, I am making a conscious effort to increase my average daily level of hope. With thanks to august rush. For crying out loud.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Running For A Reason

I'm participating in the CIBC Run For The Cure this year. I'm not going it alone but running with a team made up of comics from around Toronto. When my friend Ian asked if I'd like to join the team and run for cancer his timing couldn't have been more perfect. I'd been feeling low - still no job, summer turning to fall, closer to another birthday and so on - so it was great to be presented with an opportunity to do something for other people that would shift my focus off my "mohills that seem like mountains" problems.

Now here's the thing; I started training to run the 10K today and I'm HORRENDEOUSLY out of shape, I knew I was out but didn't realize just how far. I have no doubt that my muscle memory will kick in and I'll be slow run/fast walking the 10K with no problem by October 4th.

That's not the problem, the problem is that I've shifted the focus of running back to me. Running for breast cancer research is now a secondary thought "Oh yeah, the cancer, right. But more importantly I'm going to start losing weight and looking better." My chartitable intentions have led me back to my vanity goals.

Does everyone have this problem? Do we as a society and as individuals ever just do a good deed without the thought of what we get out of it? The good feelings, the sense of satisfaction, the bragging rights, the tax write-off, the free lunch...

Day to day good deeds may not be noticed at first but the more you do them the better you feel - provided you're not doing them out of spite or to show off, because when no one notices you'll get bitter and resentful in a big hurry as the attitude and actions of an ex-friend will attest to.

Maybe it's not such a bad thing to do good deeds for slightly selfish reasons. You feel better, they feel better and they'll want to do a good deed for someone which will make that person feel better and they'll go on and do two good things for people and those two people will do good for four good people and I think you get the idea.

If you want to do something nice and feel good about it, feel free to donate to my run here:

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Vegan Diary

Last Entry:

Well, I didn't keep up this diary as well as I would have hoped but I did stay vegan for 2 weeks and am still vegan today (today is day 16). Like I said earlier, it doesn't seem right to put in all that work (not that it was hard - okay it was hard at first and then got easier, I guess the word I'm looking for is effort) just to throw back to my old unconscious eating habits and eat a street vendor hot dog or grilled processed cheese sandwich.

I am now more aware of the food I'm putting in my body and the effect that that food has on me. I'm a little more aware of how my food choices impact the planet. I'm going to do my best to keep eating foods that are nice to both. I know that sometimes my choices will include meat, eggs and cheese but I will try to eat those foods that are raised organically or locally produced.

Thanks to Joan for having a birthday and wanting this as her gift!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Vegan Diary

Day 8 - August 31/09
Today was uneventful. I don't much miss meat anymore, not like I really at a LOT of it. Another trip around the grocer to make me realize how much there isn't to eat and how much I'm starting to lose my desire for food. It's becoming less of an enjoyment and more of a necessity. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Good thing is I am becoming more aware of what I'm putting in my body, losing my desire for junk and food for food's sake.

Day 9 - September 1/09
I'm not feeling so great today. I've had a headache for over three weeks now - something that other people would find disturbing but I'm somehow accustomed to. Though I will admit that now I'm becoming a bit concerned. Good thing I've got a doctor's appointment on Thursday. Not sure if changing my eating habits has helped or hindered in any way - not that it's been a long time, but there could be some withdrawl symptoms going on.
Had a craving for pudding today. Strange that I am starting to crave foods that I don't normally eat. Could be a throwback to my childhood, nostalgia setting in now that fall is coming. My boyfriend and I are having people over for dinner on the 12th and I'm planning on making a peach or apple pie. Again, it's either the vegan challenge or nostalgia that's ramping up my desire to bake. Going to a BBQ on Saturday, thankfully they have a daughter who is a vegetarian so there should be something I can eat. Failing that, I'll just drink my way through the night! Ha!

Day 10 - September 2/09
Contrary to my previous belief, I am NOT losing weight, in fact I feel like I'm gaining some. Ugh. I'm starting to realize that perhaps my past "dieting" techniques may be thwarting my present attempt at getting healthy (and maybe dropping a few pounds in the process). And I'm old, I have to factor that in. I hate being old. Stuff just takes longer when you're old (unlike teenage boys, eh? See, it's an ejaculation joke).
I realized today that the "challenge" of being vegan has worn off and now I just consider myself to be someone who doesn't eat meat, dairy, eggs or anything else from an animal (as for the honey debate, never cared for the stuff much in the first place). Didn't seem to take very long for my brain to make the switch. Maybe somethings happen faster when you get older (like driving up your credit card bill, eh? See it's a joke about women liking to shop when they're no longer having sex)
I do miss the excitement I had for food. I'm sure it's not gone very far, but most of what I liked about eating was the anticipation, the savoring, the creation.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Vegan Diary

This is a diary of my two weeks as a vegan, a present to my friend Joan.
I didn't start this diary until Day 4, Days 1-3 weren't all that interesting except that on Day 1 I went out with friends for dinner at my local where it was 1/2 price wing night and had to use my brain to find dinner instead of just ordering 1 pound cajun dusted with a side of hot sauce.
Here's the story so far...

Day 4 - August 27/09
I'm craving tuna today. Tuna salad on whole wheat bread from a donut store. And cheese, marble, on crackers.
It's silly but I feel like I'm losing weight - might be from my new found fear of any food with more than three ingredients in it. Rice cakes and hummus and guacamole have become my new staples. Thankfully one of my new favourite soups - Baxter's Golden Autumn Vegetable Soup - is both totally vegan and on sale.
Tonight I had a veggie burrito, no cheese or sour cream, and somehow I still feel like I've broken the rules, as if any food I eat and enjoy is somehow wrong. I may be kick starting a whole new eating disorder.

Day 5 - August 28/09
Today I'm a titch hungover, having gone out last night to celebrate a friend's birthday and today I'm craving a big breakfast/early afternoon meal of eggs, bacon, buttered toast and tea with lots of milk. Scrambled eggs with lots of cheese. Rice cakes and hummus, pickles and green tea just don't have the same comforting food effect.
I will say that I've been pooping much more regularly what with all the leafy greens and beans I've been eating. I've also been feeling a lot more creative with my meals. Except right now - potato chips and hummus. We are none of us perfect.

Day 6 - August 29/09
Had brunch today at Sneaky Dee's with a couple of friends I haven't seen in several months. I was a little worried that I'd have to eat dry toast and plain black tea (ugh!) but much to my surprise and delight it turns out that Dee's has both green tea (ah!) and several vegan brunch choices including a vegan version of the Burro Favorito which is exactly what I wanted. My only complaint about my breakfast was that the tofu was cut into strips (and quite thick ones at that) instead of chopped fine so that it mimics the texture of scrambled eggs. As for the potato chips I bought yesterday - technically vegan as they're only safflower oil and potatoes and salt - I was craving salt, but the junkfoody-ness of the chips wasn't quite what I've been wanting. But I'm sure I'll find a way to choke the rest of them down somehow.
For dinner I wound up making vegan burritos with my boyfriend and they were fantastic! Beans, fresh salsa, avocado, lime, onion and cilantro. My boyfriend had his with beef and cheese and when all was said and done he admitted he could have left the beef out of his, but not the cheese. Oh I am SO craving cheese!

Day 7 - August 30/09
Not much to say about today except I'm hungover. Wine, how I love thee...
Today was a day for eating leftover burritos and popcorn dressed with olive oil and salt. I didn't think I'd be able to eat popcorn without butter (oh butter!) but I quite enjoyed it! No cravings for meat or bacon or cheese. My boyfriend asked me what I was going to eat when the two weeks are up and I've decided to hold off going back to my meat eating ways until I can have a good meal, like a fine roast or good steak and some expensive cheese like St. Andre's. It doesn't seem right somehow to do all this "work" just to go back to eating crap.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Cycling is now a Religion

You ride a bike instead of driving a car and suddenly you’re a fucking SAINT. You’re better than me because I drive everywhere. You’re better than transit users because they still omit fumes. It doesn’t matter that you’re creating havoc by riding on the sidewalks, creating hazards by blowing through stop signs and traffic lights or putting yourself in danger by not wearing a helmet. You still think you are better than me. And you think it’s your right to “show me the light”. No you don’t knock on my door like Jehovah Witnesses, but you do something far worse - you gather together in this huge “demonstration” - which could be easily likened to picketing religious zealots at a Gay Pride Parade or an Abortion clinic– called Critical Mass.

These Critical Massholes, as I like to call them, refuse to cooperate with police and city hall (by not giving a route map for their little parade) and proceed to impede traffic including emergency vehicles with their lights on trying to get to a call. They feel it’s THEIR RIGHT to do this because it’s for the greater good. They are trying to get more people on bicycles and out of cars. Because THEY believe it’s what’s best for the world. Some religious folk believe what is best for the world is blowing up abortion clinics – that’s wrong but this isn’t?

Same difference.

Yeah Critical Massholes haven’t killed anyone – that we know of….yet – but someone one day will need an ambulance and they won’t be able to get one because Massholes won’t let it through. A VPD Police officer said he had his lights on trying to get to a call and the Critical Massholes would not let him through. He radioed to have someone else take the call, got out of his car and started giving tickets. Not that any of the Massholes cared – they saw it as a victory. Just like how the religious zealot thinks it’s worth going to jail if he takes a life (abortion Dr) in order to save one (unborn embryo).

Did I mention they break laws continuously by not obeying traffic signals, not wearing helmets, etc.? Yeah I think I did.

Vancouver, the city in which Critical Mass has become a Critical Controversy, has (in the 10 years I’ve been living there part or full-time) shut down an entire lane on one of the busiest commuter bridges in Vancouver so cyclists can have it. They’ve shut down access to streets (like Hornby south of Pacific) so cyclists can have it, they’ve created bike lanes all over the city and mapped out designated bike routes. To me this means that Critical Mass is no longer about cyclist awareness – we know your there and we’re making your life better – it’s about infringing on the rights and safety of others because you think you are better than them.

If this was America these Massholes would be shot or simply run over. (

And sadly, it still might happen here. There is only so much a person can take. Think about it. You don’t know who you’re trapping in their vehicle. People have panic disorders that could cause them to freak out and hit the gas. They could be sick trying to get home. They could have a child to pick up and are late and frustrated. It’s a ticking time bomb. At the last Critical Mass (the last day of every month) I had just had a surgical procedure that week and was suffering from some complications but was at work on the North Shore of Vancouver. I had to ask my boss if I could leave early so I didn’t run into Critical Massholes on my way home. I needed to get home. I was even contemplating heading to the hospital. If I was stopped in traffic surrounded by thousands of Massholes yelling and screaming, with the pain I was in, I would not be responsible for my actions.

You are not better than me because you cycle to work or the grocery store (which I walk to) or wherever the fuck it is you are going on my sidewalks. You don’t care more about the environment than me. I drive an eco-friendly car and walk whenever I can. Furthermore, I obey all traffic laws. I move out of the way for emergency vehicles. I wear my seatbelt. I slow down or stop for pedestrians. I do not drive on the fucking sidewalk or the wrong way down one way streets just because it’s convenient. You are not better than me. You are not getting into “heaven” before me.

You are a Masshole.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Think Global Act Local

Seems to me that there's been a lot of hype in the papers lately about how President Obama is pushing Americans to "Buy American" and that we Canadians are somehow going to wind up in the financial shitter as a result.

I have to applaud President Obama for his stance. He's took on a world of trouble when he became the 44th President of the United States and from what I've seen and heard and read his main focus seems to be to get his country healed up and working again. I say good job Mr. President, keep it up.

Right now Canadians are also a financial crunch. I'm out of work and a lot of my friends who still have jobs are having to make personal cutbacks and sacrifices and re-thinking their futures and the futures of their children.

Perhaps we should adopt the USA's practice of thinking and acting locally. Let's all Buy Canadian! Shop at Rona instead of Home Depot, hire your local teenager to cut your lawn and rake your leaves, shop at a Canadian grocery store or better yet join a co-op. Seek out local designers for your clothes, try to stick to farmer's markets when buying produce so you know it's locally grown, (in the winter months obviously this is harder but there are Canadian companies that provide canned and frozen veggies and don't forget all our hothouse veg!), root for the Toronto Maple Leafs!

Making these changes might cost a little more but in the long run it will be much better for all Canadians. Spend a little more on Canada, get a whole lot more back.

Monday, July 13, 2009

It Stinks

Toronto is on strike and while I'm not sure what the union wants and what management is willing to give I do know that it stinks around here.
Garbage has been piling up since the very day the workers went on strike. Now I know that there are very powerful feelings about who is right and who is wrong and "why the hell would they strike during the summer and expect us to be sympathetic" but I've been looking at the whole thing from a different angle.

Lets put aside the politics for a moment and take a long hard look at the environmental impact we have on the planet. It's painfully obvious to Torontonians how much garbage they produce in 22 days. It's awful! I was shocked, well not that shocked, that within 24-hours most of the major streets were littered with trash and on every second street corner there was a couch thrown to the wolves. Seriously Toronto, were you just harbouring the garbage in hopes of a strike to make a point? And why is now the right time to get a new couch and throw out the old? Leon's has that "No Money For One Full Year" deal every week, you're not going to miss out. And what about donating that old couch to Goodwill or other local charity instead of trashing it?

I think we should all take this time to reflect on how wasteful we are and what programs we as a city and we as individuals can implement to reduce our waste.

Reduce, reuse, recycle seems like such a hackneyed term nowadays but it still seems pretty effective. Eating locally, community gardens and composts, cloth diapers, sustainable energy. Take an extra 10 seconds when shopping to choose the item with less packaging, carpool or take transit or walk, plant a tree and let the leaves fall where they may.

And while we're at it, be nice to one another and stop littering. It'd make the world a lot less stinky.

Monday, June 15, 2009


I was watching the View this morning and the ladies were discussing Chastity Bono's decision to have a sex-change operation to become a man.

Most of the women kept their right-wing dislike of things and people "outside the norm" at bay and focused instead on being parents and their desire to "protect their children from harm", that they would hate to see their child go through something like that because of "the way that other people would treat them and try to hurt them". Their words were wonderfully ironic for so many reasons, the underlying message from most of the women seemed to be "I wouldn't want a gay child because gay people are looked upon as being wrong in society and I only want my child to be right so that they can be anything and anyone they want to be".

The part that really stuck in my craw was when Barbara Walters reiterated several times that "parents should not blame themselves". I take offence at the usage of the word blame. Ms. Walters seems to be implying that a child being gay or transgendered is wrong and that someone needs to take responsibility for the wrongdoing. Blame should not come into it. If these children had taken guns into their high school and shot up the place, if they were killing small animals for sport, if they were organizing hate rallies then some blame should be placed. These are not children that have committed murder, these are children who have decided to come out to their parents and just want to be accepted and loved.

I'm not gay or transgendered but I want to be accepted and loved and love and accept. Good thing my parents don't need to blame themselves.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Portrait Of a Broken Girl

The Hopeless Romantic saw the top of the mountain, saw the brass ring within reaching distance and just as she reached for it, just as she took that last step that would bring her to the summit she heard a popping noise and felt a dull pain in her chest.

Her heart had shattered into a thousand pieces, each smaller than the other so that all the king’s horses and all the king’s men would never be able to put them back together again.

She crumpled to the ground, her life’s essence bleeding out of her into the rocky ground below her. She tried to breathe, tried to lift her head up, tried to stand but to no avail. She had no idea what had happened, no clue as to why she was now becoming a husk of her former self.

Just yesterday the sky was blue, the sun shone like a golden ball of life, the grass sung under her feet and the wind carried her on her way. But now the sky was grey, the sun gone, the grass was now rock and the wind was bitterly cold.

With her last dying breath she begged forgiveness for whatever it was she had done to cause her such pain, begged for forgiveness and a quick death. She knew it was not to be.

As the last part of her life drained out of her she stood up and faced the wind. A broken down and empty shell of her former self she started to walk back home. She had things to do and places to be.

In her death she had learned nothing.

Friday, May 29, 2009


I think those questions that you ask when you think you’re awake but you’re not really quite awake yet are some of the best. I’m sure a writer like Stephen King has a really cool word or phrase for that in between, coming up from the depths of Slumbor’s lair moment, but I don’t.

The last one I asked, I remember because I had to make sure I said it out loud or else it would be lost forever was “Can dogs get polio?”

As it turns out, yes they can.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

The Mouths of Babes

My daughter : “I made a mother’s day card for Courtney (her father's new wife) with Papa.”
Me : “Oh? Is Courtney somebody’s Mama?”
My daughter : “Yes, Papa has two Mamas. Gammy, and Courtney.”

Best. Mother's Day. Present. Ever.

Friday, May 8, 2009

An Open Letter To My Best Friend

Dear Best Friend,

This week I witnessed something beautiful and pure between you and your daughter, the unabashed giving and receiving of the words “I love you”. It was sweet and tender and untouched by any outside influence. I felt a little like an invader just listening, that just being in the room with you would taint it somehow. But I also felt blessed to be a witness to it and to be able to catch a little of the loving spill-over.

I ask one thing of you my dear friend, please don’t ever become too busy, too distracted, too frustrated or too caught up in the little things in life that seem so big to ever respond with a heartfelt and pure “I love you” when those words are said to you by your daughter.
I know that sometimes life can seem to get too big, too hurried, too much and we lose sight of the things that really matter.

I remember when I was a little girl, not much older than your girl is now; my mother and I had our own loving back and forth. I would say “Mom? Guess what? I love you” and she would respond with “I love you too. You’re my favouritest Jennie in the whole wide world”. One day I said my part and my mom responded with a distracted “Yeah, uh-huh” and it broke my heart in a way that only a little girl’s heart can be broken.

Please don’t ever let that happen to your and your daughter, for all the little girl and big girl hearts of the world. I know that’s a lot of pressure but I know you can handle it.



Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Portrait of a Spring Day

And on that blustery day in April, the Hopeless Romantic walked outside, lay down in her self made rose garden, closed her eyes and died.

Well, she didn’t really die, she just decided to go to the in between place for a while. Not quite living, not quite dead, not quite like Sleeping Beauty but not too far off.

She had decided that it was just too hard to keep going. The years had taken their toll and she was too tired. She was too tired of people more concerned about appearances and sex and who-makes-more-money and not being concerned enough about feelings and holding hands and first kisses and good old fashioned simple love.

Her back was twisted and bent from the hundreds of men and women who had leaned so heavily upon it for so long, not caring about the consequences of their actions. They had consumed her from the inside out, eroding the rock of her love, compassion and caring.

In her semi-conscious state she wondered if anyone would miss her, if anyone would even notice she was gone. Not in a teenaged-tragic suicide attempt cry for help, “I wonder who would show up at my funeral” way, but with real wonder if she had actually touched as many lives as she thought. Normally thoughts like this wouldn’t even think of knocking on the door let alone coming right in and settling in on the couch of her mind.

She was just so very tired.

Something was scratching at her cheek. It irked her. She tried to ignore it but it insisted on skrit-skritting against her cheek. Swearing revenge and a slow painful death against whatever Prince Charming Wannabe that was trying weasel its way into the dark sanctuary of her mind, she fluttered one eyelid open.

A fat bumble bee had set down upon one of the leaves of a rose bush and had bent it down, touching her cheek.

Well, she could hardly maim and kill a harmless bee now could she? She shooed it hoping it would leave her in peace but the furry little bastard just sat there. She waved her hand over and around it hoping it would get the hint but it just kept sitting there. Not buzzing, not eating, not doing anything.

The funny thing was she didn’t even stop to question how or why a bee would be out and about this early in the season.
The bee stared at her and she stared at the bee. It was fat and fuzzy and looked like it was ready to settle down for a long winter’s nap, the Hopeless Romantic could certainly empathize.

She was trying to apply logic to an illogical situation. Trying to use rational thinking on love was like using a teacup to cross the Atlantic.

Her desperate cries for help had all gone unanswered, they hadn’t even connected with voice mail. How could they when she didn’t even realize that she had made them in the first place? The tragic flaw of the Hopeless Romanic lying in that rose garden staring at that bee was that she didn’t even realize that she needed to be rescued. She didn’t know that she was locked in the tower of her own making, drifting on a sea of her own tears. She had spent so much time concerned about others that she had forgotten to take a moment to take care of herself.

The bee stretched its wings.
The Hopeless Romantic stretched her arms.
The bee stretched its antenna.
The Hopeless Romantic stood up.

No sense wasting time lying around feeling sorry for oneself when there’s work to be done and a life to keep living.

The bee flew away.
She had learned nothing.

Word To The Wise

When sitting around with a good friend solving all the world's problems over a bottle of wine or two, make sure you take notes. No crummier feeling than waking up the next day feeling refreshed and accomplished and realizing that you can't remember a dratted thing. I don't think it's so much the wine as the massive endorphine rush you get when you realize that you've just cured the world of all its ails. That good feeling is what makes your brain turn mushy (anyone who has ever been in love can attest to that fact).
So, keep a notepad handy, just in case.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Time Marches On

I realized this weekend that I'm old.

I was outside on a friend's patio having a cigarette when I noticed a group of girls chatting outside my local across the way. All three were dressed in "crazy dress-up" outfits, the type usually associated with Embarassing Birthday or Ella's Getting Married outings.

I could hear the conversation quite clearly and realized that they were dressed in 80's wear for the Crazy 80s Party Whooo! going on in the upstairs room of the bar across the way.
My first though was "My god, that's not how you dress 80's style!".
My second thought was "You're not old enough to remember the 80's!"
My third and last thought was "A person born in 1990 is now legally of age to drink. I now know how all my friend's parents felt and what they all thought when they saw us dressed up to have our Crazy 70s Party Whooo! times."

Then I went back inside, wrapped myself in my ratty grey cardigan and watched the end of NOVA before going to bed at a reasonable hour.

The End.

Monday, March 9, 2009


I've spent the better part of my day at the library down the street from my house doing some work and non-work related things. The couple I speak about in the following rant plunked themselved down in front of me about an hour ago....

Okay, I get that the library is a public place but for the love of all things good in this world what makes you think that you can sit RIGHT across from me and have a loud chitty-chat conversation when I am clearly trying to get some effing work done!? Perhaps going to a cafe where you can chat freely or maybe MOVE THE FUCK AWAY from me so that I can do my work in peace and not listen to your assinine conversation about Germany and children and FUCKING ROOT BEER!!

Seriously, can you please go somewhere else if you're going to chat? Please?
I don’t want to hear about your cat or dog or the way your cat and dog get along and how cute it is that they think they’re people. Some of us still believe in the sanctity of the Library and the quiet and peace and learning that used to come with it. For some of us, the Library is our Church. Please don’t shit on my hymnal and don’t talk over the sermon.

Or how about learning some basic manners? How about that? Be aware of your surroundings and not think that you are the only two people on the planet. I mean, for the love of god dude, clearly she thinks of you just as a friend, can you not see the crossed arms, the lean back to her body, the hunched shoulders? You can lean in all you want with your open arms and your laid back attitude but she’s not going to fuck you. Sorry.

Ha. That made me feel much better. I only wish that the keys of my computer were louder so that I could type my 60 wpm and interrupt your OH SO IMPORTANT conversation with clickity-clackity-clickity-click. And if I had long nails to type on said keyboard with, well that would be all the better.

Seriously, shut the fuck up. Now you're bothering the people two tables down. How completely oblivious are you to your surroundings? Shut up.

And that's the end of my rant. I am pretty cranky today and I suppose I could have asked them to please move but then again I think that if the tables were turned I would have moved away. But that's just me.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Love and War

What would you do if you knew the future? Would you carry on on the same path knowing that it's inevitable or would you do something to change it?

What if you knew that you were in a relationship that would never go anywhere? What if you were told point blank that you would never be loved by the person you're dating? Everything else in the relationship is perfect; you get along, never fight, have great sexual chemistry, make each other laugh, trust one another but the only thing is that (s)he is never going to love you, would you stay or would you go?

What's so great about love anyway?

If it were me (and it might be) I'd stick around. Maybe because I believe on the one hand that if there's a 0.0000001% chance of something happening, there's still a chance. And on the other hand, why not stick with what's good - the sex, the laughing, trust, spending time together, everything that everyone strives for in a lasting relationship but without the love. If every other relationship you've ever had that had all those things including love, has failed, well, wouldn't that make you think that maybe it's love that's been getting in the way of a successful relationship all these years?

Maybe it's not love that makes the world go around, maybe it's trust. Most of the relationships that I've been in that failed have failed because there was no trust. But if we're going to talk about trust then we might as well talk about faith, the faith you have that your relationship will grow and move forward and become something bigger than the two of you. And nothing makes a relationship grow faster than love.

Maybe it's not one thing; trust, love, faith these are all nice words but they're all notions, ideas, whisps of smoke. What about chemistry and physical compatibility? What about the tangible elements that you can see and hear, touch and taste.

But then again, trust tends to fade when there's no love to back it up, at least in the world of the romantic relationship.

What's worse? Having love and knowing it might end or knowing it might never end but there might never be love?

Meatloaf said two outta three ain't bad, Tina Turner asked what love has to do with it and The Supremes said you can't hurry love.

But it does make the world go 'round....

Tuesday, February 10, 2009


The longer I look at the "after" eyelashes, the more disturbed I feel. Try it.

Saturday, January 31, 2009


Reality Bites explored the lives of four generation-x college graduates looking for work and love in Houston, Texas. The main character (played by Winona Ryder) is an aspiring film-maker who documents their lives, hoping to make a film from the footage. The film was released in early 1994, when i was 25 years old.

I'm simply not sure whether I am remembering this correctly or not, so perhaps my fellow gen-xers can help me out. I remember watching this movie and thinking OH MY GOD, SOMEBODY FINALLY GETS ME! THIS IS MY LIFE! THIS IS SO GREAT! ETHAN HAWKE IS SO AMAZING AND DISTANT AND COOL AND MISUNDERSTOOD, I WANT TO DATE SOMEONE JUST LIKE HIM! WINONA RYDER IS SO BORED AND SMART AND SARCASTIC AND UNDERVALUED - I'M SURE I'M JUST LIKE HER! I'm so GLAD they got back together at the end! That's JUST how it works out in REAL LIFE, when the boy FINALLY realizes he screwed up, and he comes back changed, loving and PERFECT and after that they stay together FOREVER!

I didn't watch it again for years, but I carried around this memory of a movie that had encapsulated my life at that time MOST perfectly. I'd refer to it from time to time fondly, reminiscing about the plot as though I was reminiscing about my own memories.

Last night I watched this film again, for the first time in fifteen years (in two weeks, it will be the fifteenth anniversary of its release).

OH MY FREAKING GOD. The SHALLOWNESS of the characters! The INSIPIDNESS of their lives! The TRANSPARENCE of Ethan Hawke's ridiculous detached facade! The HORROR of Winona Ryder's acting! The TRITENESS and PREDICTABILITY and CERTAINTY OF RELATIONSHIP DOOM of the final reunion love scene!

The only saving grace was Janeane Garofalo. Her character was at least SOMEWHAT three-dimensional, and she was, as always, brilliant. Why didn't I want to be HER??

I'm not certain what upsets me more.. the fact that I was so FREAKING naive at 25 (was that SERIOUSLY my life???) .. or the fact that I'm so UNREMITTINGLY cynical at 40.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

You Are

You are the knot that sits between my shoulders
... the pea under my matress when I sleep
... the forgotten pin in my shirt
... the tear in my pants, the tangle in my hair
... the car alarm going off at 3am outside my window
... the song I can't get out of my head
... the lyric I can't remember
... the weed in my bed of roses
... the splinter in my finger
... the smell of gas coming from my furnace
... the streetcar I missed when I was already late for work
... the one pint too many
... the part of my brain incapable of rational thought
... the diet that made me gain weight
... the joke I told that no one got
... the weird smell I can't find the source of
... the promotion I was passed over for
... the tattoo I never got and the one I did
... the crack in my window that lets in the cold and rain
... the adrenaline rush I get when I do something bad
... the constant ringing in my ears
... the party I threw that no one showed up for
... the white lint on my black cashmere sweater
You are the nagging feeling that I have forgotten something.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Short List

I have never:

  • made my own wine
  • been a bridesmaid
  • been a bride
  • dated someone for their money
  • gotten over it

I have:

  • drank homemade wine
  • been a last minute maid of honour
  • proposed marriage
  • dated someone for their looks
  • gotten over it

Thursday, January 8, 2009

She Works Hard For It

Teeny tiny ranty.

Okay, what I do to make money to pay for the things that don't earn me money but bring me joy isn't rocket science, it's barely brain surgery but it's not without it's difficulties - have you ever had to be nice to everyone you come in contact with for 8 hours straight? Try it. Not so easy, is it?
Do me a favour, the next time you're speaking with a customer service rep (CSR as those of us in the biz call us in the biz) make the assumption that they know:
a) how to do their job
b) how to spell
c) how to count
d) if they don't know how to do a, b or c they will transfer you to someone who does

I know how to do my job. I was hired to do it and as long as I keep doing it right I'll keep getting paid. I like money so I'm going to keep doing my job right. I'm rather Pavlovian that way. So unless you sign my paycheque, please, PLEASE do me a favour and keep your job pointers to yourself.

Thank you.