Filed under: Generalizations
I just got home last night after 10 days on the road. Yes, I will be blogging soon. I could tell you about my trip right now, or you could wait for pictures. I suggest you wait.
Filed under: FOOOOOD, Generalizations | Tags: advertising, Canada, controversy, ethics, Montreal, Pamela Anderson, PETA
New PETA ad, courtesy of Sympatico.ca
Upon reading an article about Pamela Anderson’s new PETA advertisement, I was appalled at the reaction from Montreal. Known internationally as a forward-thinking city, it was surprising they would deem it as “sexist”. My initial reaction upon seeing it was that Pamela Anderson looks amazing (airbrushing or no airbrushing). They way her body is dissected and labelled makes me want to understand what this advertisement is about. When I realized it was for PETA, I was shocked. Normally, PETA’s scare tactics turn me off rather than enlisting me to their cause. I don’t find this advertisement sexist. Rather, I find it to be a very clever marketing strategy. It captures its audience’s attention and makes them think twice about the food they are ingesting.
If large corporations with ridiculous net profits can use sex to sell books, magazines, clothing, make-up, hygiene products, cars, houses, vacation destinations, food and what-have-you, then why is it suddenly “sexist” to use it to sell ethics? This seems rather hypocritical and more of a biased opinion of PETA rather than the ad itself.
A vegetarian lifestyle isn’t always right for everyone. Just like a vegan lifestyle isn’t right fo me. I love milk and ice cream and cheese and eggs and couldn’t imagine my life without them. I try to think about HOW products are produced rather than what they are made of. However, I say good for you Pamela Anderson and PETA for thinking outside of the box and finding a new way to promote your cause.
Filed under: Generalizations | Tags: CDs, humour, MP3s, music, Nissan, Pontiac Transport, road trips, travel
There is no way our minivan is going to withstand our holiday through the mountains. Already it screams its protest as we causally drive along city streets, or parking lots, or anything really. Mike’s father has kindly traded his Nissan X-something, and I think he got shafted in this bargain. In almost all areas the Nissan is superior to the van, including but not limited to:
a) Its seats recline
b) Its reclining seats are further heated
c) The power windows actually work. We have “Mike-power” in the van (he pushes the window down and pulls it up manually and prays we don’t get stuck in a sudden shower)
d) The Nissan actually works, and
e) We are less likely to be stranded on some deserted mountain road where we may end up as either dinner for a bear or dinner for Robert Pickton’s crazy cousin.
Notwithstanding the stated and implied superiority of the Nissan X-something (it’s gold in colour. That’s really all I care about), there is one area that the van kicks the Nissan in the ass: it plays MP3s. Now keep in mind that the van is a 1999 Pontiac Transport that came stock with a tape deck, and a few working cassett tapes like Pink Floyd and Supertramp, so its MP3 compatibility is the electrical engineering prowess of Mike. The Nissan is equipped with an archaic form of playing tunes: a CD player. We haven’t bought CDs in years and although our collection is large we are now left with the burning question:
WHAT 20 CDs DO YOU CHOOSE?
Filed under: Uncategorized
My holiday starts on Friday, and Saturday which is the Ceremony of Death (read Small Town Lovin’) for J. After said date there are only a few people I want to see:
a) Mike
b) My brother-in-law Jordan
c) People who work at liquor stores, and
d) The Park Ranger who is going to rescue me from a bear mauling incident.
Please don’t try to break into my house, someone is watching it for me. Besides, I don’t own anything that would be worth your time to steal. Oh, and Travis, if you try and leave C at my house, I swear I will sell him on the black market to be made into stew. Try me.
Evil in disguise
I can break myself after one more pair of yoga pants can’t I? I’m not sure if there is such a thing as “one last pair”. It started out as just wanting a pair to lounge around in. Really I would say to myself, When are you ever going to wear them, other than at home of course? It slowly progressed to wanting a pair of yoga shorts Because now it’s hot out. There’s no harm in one pair of shorts is there? Last night I became aware, no longer am I in denial. When I saw a pair of mid-length yoga pants that are “just perfect for my hiking trip”, I took it a step further by deciding that yes, I will get two pairs…. just in case.
I’m frightened by this new development guys. Will I continue to shun real clothes and only purchase these stretchy, comfy, cute pieces of evil? Will my hypocrisy take over to the point that I no longer know the joy of a good pair of jeans? In a way, I’m sort of hoping it does.
Filed under: Generalizations | Tags: clumsy, elastics, humour, office humour, work funny
Well, that sounds pretty gross, and I’m mentally giggling to myself like some pre-teen girl who just went through sex-ed class. But clear your dirty, disgusting, filth-filled minds, it’s yet another clumsy story.
Ok so for anyone who has ever doubted my lack of motor skills, you need to check out earlier posts. So working on the fact that you knew I once broke two ribs and split the bone and cartilage in my chest on my FIRST EVER ski run (and I mean I immediately did so), then you probably will shake your head.
Here I am, innocently replacing the worn out elastic on a file with one that still smells like rubber and not the grubby fingers of my co-workers (love you guys), and all of a sudden SNAP! The thing breaks in two and somehow manages to fly the foot and a half and smack me right in the face. Of course. My co-workers just laugh. They know that of the six incident reports found in the First Aid Kit, I am four. They get progressively worse. It goes something like: Paper cut, paper cut, file folder cut, little metal thingy cut (I hope I don’t have tetanus).
Seething in my anger toward this inanimate enemy of mine, I decide to avenge myself. I will show it the Wrath of I by flinging it at top speed against the side of my cubicle. Little did I expect it would have its own opinion and fly OVER my cubicle into that of my unsuspecting co-worker’s, two desks over.
No! No you malicious, evil elastic! You will not claim another victim! You will not separate Michelle from her baby.
I put it in the paper shredder. Escape that!
Filed under: Generalizations | Tags: italy, love, marriage, memories, travel, venice
It wouldn’t be one from my childhood when I always felt awkward and too tall. It wouldn’t be my highschool years, full of misunderstood anger and frustration. It wouldn’t even be last week, dragging myself through the monotony of a day job. It would be May 11, 2008 and it was in Venice.
We had spent a week travelling through Italy, drinking wine and eating pasta and tomatoes. At nights we’d grab a few bottles of wine, and there is no bad wine in Italy, and position ourselves around the fountain in the square. Munching on freshly baked breads, we would people watch, completely secure in our ignorance of Italian. The type of security foreigners feel. We are untouchable, we are distant and separate.
It was our first night in Venice. Mike and I were tired after a day of travelling by train and spent the afternoon in the sweet embrace of sleep. Once it was dusk, we rose and travelled into Venice for dinner and to enjoy the night life. We were enjoying our cheese and poppy seed gnocchi and our litre of wine (which for some reason, we thought was smaller than a bottle. Which it wasn’t), and I became aware of a breeze against my back. The zipper in my dress had split open and my backside was exposed to the garden conveniently placed behind me. I did the best I could with absolutely no instruments to save me. Which is to say I put a cardigan on and hoped it covered it up.
Tipsy from our litre of wine, we set out among the labyrinth of stone walkways and canals. All of which look exactly the same. The night was closing in and the sun had gone to bed when we arrived at San Marco’s Piazza. The moon and stars reflected off of the waterfront. Gondolas and speed boats made their way along the highway of sea. It was magical to put it lightly. We were leaned out against the water, enjoying the sights and the smells that comes with a city shrouded in legend and mist.
He pulled my hand out and looked me in the eyes. I could see tears reflecting the light of his blue and yellow eyes as he asked me for my hand in marriage.
If I could capture the essence of any day, if I could re-live any moment, it would be the one where we pledged ourselves to each other, under the light of the moon, shrouded by our foreignism, protected by our love
Filed under: Generalizations | Tags: babysitting, batman, children, culture, driving, fun, funny, halloween, humour, lawyers, sales
The call for Justice has been sent
Here’s a list things to do with a Batman mask:
1. Door to Door Sales. Who hasn’t slammed the door on a salesman before? Regardless of what they’re selling, the first human instinct is “Get them away from me as quickly as possible”. A Batman mask will distract your potential buyer long enough for you to give your sales pitch.
2. Visit your lawyer What stronger deterrent to a skeezbag of a lawyer than having the true face of Justice staring at them throughout your meeting? Your lawyer would be too unnerved to unfairly pad your bill.
3. Wedding Stand-In Best man bailed? Can’t find a Justice of the Peace? No problem, a little bit of Batman will easily solve that problem. Batman also doesn’t need to pass any tests to marry people, Justice is his middle name.
4. Babysitting Children are afraid of Santa Claus finding out their dirty deeds, imagine if Batman was watching them for the evening. No longer will your little Johnny terrorize the local teenage girls. With Batman around, he wouldn’t dare to pull that junk.
5. Driving During Rush Hour Even though he’s driving a Volvo, you know he’s got somewhere important to go. Even the police will stop to let Batman continue his journey to bring peace and stop crime with every illegal left-hand turn.
The internet has made newspaper advertisements and the Bargain Finder magazines nearly obsolete. All you have to do now is check out eBay or Kijiji to buy or sell any used items you could possibly need, or just plain out want.
After we got our new bed, it became apparent that we needed to sell our bedroom furniture. The nightstands were so small compared to our bed that I felt as if I was in legitimate danger of rolling off the bed and smashing my head on the nightstand, possibly breaking my neck. And if you know me at all, this is a very likely scenario. So, we started listing things on Kijiji. Within 24 hours we had sold our bedframe, two dressers and nightstands. All that was left of our unwanted bedroom furniture was a simple table that I had originally used as a computer desk and had since converted it into a vanity.
So I posted it for sale with a lovely picture accompanying it and had also thoughfully provided the dimensions to avoid the whole “well, how big is it?” routine. The first potential buyer had gotten our hopes up. She had told us that it was perfect for a computer desk. The day she was supposed to come and pick it up, we were informed via email (the preferred method of communication for the passive agressive) that it wasn’t large enough… Ok, we used it as a computer desk for years. Are you from a family of giants?
So the next potential buyer came along yesterday. She’s interested but she wants to come and “look” at it. Why? There’s a picture of it, I provided you with measurments, what possible reason would you have to need to come into my home to look at a table. Look, this thing is being sold for $20.00. If you’re not willing to take a gamble with $20.00 then I suggest you buy it new. The answer is no. No you cannot come into my home to look at this table. No you cannot possibly waste my time.
All this work for $20.00? You know what? I’m giving this thing to Goodwill. Take your gigantic family and your nosiness elsewhere. I don’t need your $20.00 that much. But thanks for playing.
Filed under: Generalizations | Tags: breakfast, desert, food, guilty pleasures, humour, ice cream, secrets, underwear
I didn’t go into work this morning. No, I didn’t play hookey or call in with some false sounding stuffy nose. I legitimately booked this morning off because there was NO WAY I was leaving the Tool concert early last night. Which, by the way, was completely epic. So instead of getting up for work at 5:30 I leisurely slept in until 8:00 and enjoyed some of my “alone time”.
I really learned to appreciate alone time when I was at school, and now that I’m working for the summer, I really wanted to take the opportunity to do the small things that give my day much joy.
First, I stand out on my back porch in my underwear. I can hear some of you going “Oooh, big deal”. Well, let me explain. My backyard directly faces a busy road in my neighbourhood. Not only are there people driving by, and elderly couples holding hands and enjoying an early morning stroll, but directly accross the street is a bus stop. This whole “public underwear” thing is justified in my mind due to the asian lady who likes to stare into my home ALL THE TIME. Sometimes we play karate in the kitchen to throw her off.
Second thing I did was finish my book. It’s hard to read with Mike sometimes. He’s very, very attentive and although he’s watching the soccer game (or hockey game, or football game, or the Olympics, or the Special Olympics) if I open a book to read I’m somehow “shutting him out”. So I finished my book, and it ended as all of Philip K. Dick’s books do, anti-climatic and somehow fullfilling.
But above all else, the public underwear sharing, and the enjoyment of one of the greatest Sci-Fi writers (EVER), I ate ice cream for breakfast. I can further hear some of my female readers gasping in horror. For breakfast? Really? Yes, that’s right. I enjoyed a few large scoops of Tiger Tiger (a flavour I fought valiantly for and Mike embarassed himself into buying) and I do not regret it. Granted, I chased it with a bowl of cereal. It’s so satisfying to eat a specifically non-breakfast food item for breakfast. It feels like you’re doing something naughty and I would catch myself hastily glancing over my shoulder to see if Mike had somehow appeared in the doorway without my knowledge and was about to catch me in my dirty little pleasure.
Now that I’m sitting at my desk and staring at files, I’m so glad I did it.
The Lifespan of a Fly 