Burglarific?

I was walking down the street today and passed by a fellow who was normally dressed, from the neck down.

From the neck up? Not so normal.

From the neck up? He was sporting a ski mask.

Mid-day, only semi-cold outside, and wearing a balaclava.

Either this guy was:

a) New to the country and confused about how to keep warm in a Canadian winter;
b) Confused by recent, inexplicable, fashion trends;
c) On his way to rob something.

I will continue to wonder.

CASUAL Friday?? What the what?

OK. I know the concept of "casual Fridays" is somewhat malleable...different rules, different companies..different standards...that being said, there are certain standards that people should just abide.

For example: Today, I was walking between the 2 buildings that make up my office complex, and I was hurrying and not paying great attention to much, because I was in such a hurry, and I passed by a group of women, to whom I would normally have paid no attention whatsoever, and my brain forced me to notice the fact that one of these business women was sporting a turquoise, velour, track suit.

Yep. You read that right. Turquoise. Velour. Track Suit. At work.

Unless this woman is some kind of undercover pimp, this is not appropriate work attire!

And what pimp is up and working at 9 am? I mean, sure, if they're collecting on tabs owed, beatin' down on a 'ho or two, OK, but, as IF! She had no gold chains, nothin'! Maybe she's pimpin' to my company's employees..if so..cool...you go girl...but..please..retire the track suit..it ain't pretty...

I'm not working at a retirement community, I'm not a friend of the pimps, I should not have to deal with folks in semi-purple velour track suits!

Note: The above image is a simulation and should not be interpreted as the ACTUAL woman I saw at my office.

A few thoughts about bowling.

Last week, for absolutely no discernible reason, I suddenly had an urge to go bowling.

Perhaps there exists a bowling mafia of sorts (I imagine they're called "The Bowling Crusaders" or something like that) whose sole purpose it is to subliminally convince people that they want to go bowling. Perhaps I came upon some of their subversive propaganda. I believe something like that must have occurred--otherwise, my bowling desire is utterly inexplicable.

In any case, we decided to go bowling on Friday night.

I was a little bit nervous--I haven't bowled since I was 11 or 12--and while I realize that I possess the fresh-faced glow of a teenager, that was actually a long, long time ago.

We planned to go 5-pin bowling as opposed to 10-pin--10-pin bowling is dangerous and I refuse to do it. I know millions of people have safely participated in this activity over the course of bowling history, so my fear is probably illogical, but it exists, and there's not a whole lot I can do about it--I'm certain that if I try to 10-pin bowl, my fingers will probably be ripped off my hands.

As crazy as this may sound, it will likely never be resolved--should I ever seek out the psychiatric help I so obviously require, I have an extremely lengthy list of issues that take precedence over my 10-pin-bowling-finger-loss-phobia (hard to believe there's not a scientifict term for this--I can't be the only one).

Anyway, 5-pin-bowling it was!

We found a place not too far from the house--turns out that on the weekends they have "Cosmic Bowling". Which basically means that the lights are out and random stuff around the alley is fluroescent--like your bowling shoelaces. Fun!

The experience was almost wholly enjoyable--in fact, it might be a new Friday night ritual!

Based on my burgeoning benevolence, I'm going to share some lessons I learned from my experience--should you ever have a sudden urge to go bowling, I want you to be prepared.

1. Bowling is not as easy as it looks. And I'm not referring to actually knocking down the pins and/or achieving a good score, I'm talking about the fact that bowling is surprisingly physically demanding!

My impression of the physical fitness of bowlers is based solely on television & movies (think "The Big Lebowski" and any of the blue collar sitcoms of the late '80s). As such, I had been misled into believing that those who participate in this activity do so whilst enjoying cocktails and maneuvering around ever-expanding beer guts and/or burgers butts.

And when we first arrived at the bowling alley, this assumption seemed to be accurate--the legions of white-haired, feeble- & decrepit-looking bowlers on the main floor would lead one to deduce, "If they can do it--anyone can do it!"

Not so. Let's just say, before we'd even finished bowling our 3 games, we were feeling the pain.

Quads, back, hamstrings, butt (oh dear lord, such cruel ass-pain), bowling arm: All useless for 2 days afterwards. I could not sit or stand, ascend or descend stairs, lift a mug of coffee or pick my nose without expressing my pain via gutteral noises and wrinkle-inducing facial expressions.

You've been warned.

2. Another tip: Do not, under any circumstances, imbibe bowling alley wine. Lighter fluid straight out of the can would be more palatable. I know, I know, I should have known better--I cannot justify this choice on any level, other than to surmise: PMS made me do it.

3. If you decide you still want to go bowling, after reading about my experience, I would recommend intensive training beforehand--or at least some mild stretching--to alleviate the resultant discomfort.

4. If there's a kid in the lane next to you whose bowling technique includes tossing the ball 3-5 feet in the air and vaulting himself halfway down the lane, do not attempt to duplicate his moves--even if it seems like a good idea at the time--the laughs you get will not be worth the bruises on your knees and you likely won't knock over any of the pins anyway. Trust me on this one.

So that's my cautionary tale. Hope you all learned something.

Now, I must dash--I'm having the name "Stu" stitched on my new bowling shirt and I want to pick it up before I (literally) hit the alley tonight. I think "Stu" is a good bowling name--and when folks see it emblazoned on my chest, they'll know I'm not a bowler to be trifled with.

STRIKE!

We don't want you.

I'm getting pretty sick and tired of hearing Americans expressing the following sentiment:

"If _____________ happens, I'm moving to Canada!"

That variable can be just about anything..."If McCain gets elected, I'm moving to Canada", "If I lose my job, I'm moving to Canada", "If someone steals my parking spot one more time, I'm moving to Canada" etc. etc. etc.

My first question: Do you honestly think Canada WANTS you?

My second question: Do you truly believe it's just that easy to move to Canada?

You express a desire to live here and you think Canada is going to respond something like this:

"Come on in!! Our population density is miniscule--we need you! And we don't have NEARLY enough former Americans living here--everyone knows, if you were born in the United States, you're significantly better--in every way--than someone who was born ANYWHERE else...your presence can only improve the quality of life of ALL Canadians!!"

Oh, you poor deluded Yank. Tsk tsk.

This is not the first time I've encountered this kind of egocentrism from an American. More than once, in the course of my life, I've met jingoistic Americans who expressed shock & disbelief when they discovered that I had no desire whatsoever to live in the United States--nay, that I don't even especially like to visit.

It's not that I'm anti-American. I love, and have loved, many Americans [insert requisite dirty jokes here]. I have travelled extensively in the United States and have enjoyed it immensely--but, the fact is, I always feel more comfortable once I get back to Canada. Which is understandable, since it's my home. And I have no desire to ever live anywhere else--I know, I know, that makes me lame & unadventurous and I'm 100% OK with that. But so be it.

My point here is that there are, in fact, a lot of Americans who are truly appalled and have a hard time grasping, that there are people in the world who don't want to live in America.

And I have to assume that the folks who believe they can just up and "move to Canada" whenever they feel like it are similarly afflicted with a disease of delusion.

Here's a tip: It's not that easy!

Here's another tip: If you want to move to Canada so badly, I'm willing to entertain offers.

That is, I am willing to marry someone to help them obtain Canadian citizenship--obviously, my service(s) will go to the highest bidder, so if you aren't rich and if you aren't thunder between the sheets, don't even bother applying. Men and women are both welcome--this is Canada, after all, and gay marriage is legal everywhere.

:)

Two Purses = Unacceptable

Lately, I've seen many women on the subway and on the street carrying more than one purse:

What the hell is that about?

My advice:

a) Buy a larger purse;

b) If you require more than 1 large purse, might I suggest a convenient, economy-sized bag--say, a back- or tote-bag, to carry your belongings?

Just a few ideas.

I guess it's not such a big deal if you want to carry everything you must tote in purses and, henceforth, must increase the number of purses you carry, exponentially, as your load increases...it just doesn't make any sense! 1 big bag would take care of all your carrying needs!!!

I need a hobby.