So, yesterday, we were at dinner and Poopypants announced, "I don't know if I'm not good at biting anymore or if I've simply been encountering low quality forks, but, the last two greek salads I've bought for lunch at work, after I took the first bite, the fork shattered!"
So, either he no longer knows the strength of his bite or the fork manufacturers of the world are slacking off.
I'm not sure which possibility is more disturbing to me.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Last night I had a crazy dream...
So, last night, I had a crazy dream. And it was so crazy, I decided to share it. I decided to share it on Facebook as a note, because, I thought, generally, people really don't care about other peoples' dreams.
BORING!
That being said, I thought that the friends in my dream (and a few others, who've always enjoyed the musings of my crazy mind) might enjoy the retelling of what went on in my psyche last night.
So, I did that.
And it turned out that everyone seemed to really enjoy the dream!
Even the folks who weren't IN the dream!
So, perhaps, others might enjoy it...hence, this post...my dream from last night:
No, I'm not about to burst into that Matthew Wilder song from the 80s. I actually had a completely bizarre dream last night.
Poop & I were living in a crazy mansion, with lots of art deco-type design. I was in the kitchen, creating a stir-fry for dinner. Poop came into the kitchen and said, "Have you looked at the calendar today? Joanna's having her surgery!"
And I said, "What? Omigod! I forgot!...OK, we're turning this stir-fry into a pot of soup and we're bringing it to her at the hospital...you finish the soup, I'm going to get changed.."
Then I came back from getting changed and noticed that he'd pulled out the absolute SMALLEST Tupperware container we had in which to transport the soup and he'd only filled it up HALFWAY!
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked
"What?"
"Why are you using such a small container?"
"Um....well....I want to have some soup, too..." he replied poutily.
I took over soup duty, put the soup into an appropriately sized container and we went off to the hospital.
When we arrived, I asked at the front desk and the attendant indicated, "Nope. Sorry. Nobody's having surgery today!"
Weird.
Then a gentleman came in and offered us the opportunity to take a test so we could become professional airline pilots--just like that--and we could take the test right there, in the hospital!
So, we took the test and we both aced it...then we figured out it was some kind of crazy scam and we planned to tell the FBI.
As we were leaving to go see the FBI (weird, since we live in Canada), I saw my friend Tara leaving the hospital and realized it was she, not Joanna, who had been having surgery. For some strange reason, Tara was sporting a hideous perm and random patches of hair were dyed bright yellow.
Anyway, I tried to give her the soup, but the desk attendant had eaten it. Oh well.
Then we were suddenly transported to my friends', Lance & Amy's house. Lance & Amy usually live in Rochester. But, in this dream, they lived in a faux wild west village (salloons, hand-painted signs, horses & wild dogs running rampant...you get the idea..).
Lance had gone to buy some paperback books & beer, so we were talking to Amy who indicated that it was Lance's 18th birthday!
Shocked, I asked, "18?! What?? You guys have been married for, like, 5 or 6 years, haven't you? You married him when he was 12??!"
Amy replied proudly, "I know, right?! He's very mature for his age. Did you know, when he was 14, he was given a "Genius Grant" from New York State? It's true."
Then I noticed David Suzuki looking for a gas pump, which was somewhat incongruous, considering his lifelong quest for being green and whatnot. I said, "Hey! Mr Suzuki! Go save an ocelot or something!"
Then, Lance returned, with his paperbacks and his beer, and accidentally allowed a whole pack of wild dogs into the house who, in turn, started fighting with our dogs and ate our pet bunny rabbit.
The whole thing ended with a 20-foot horse walking by the window being ridden by Stephen King.
-------
I really wish I'd made up even 1 iota of this tale.
BORING!
That being said, I thought that the friends in my dream (and a few others, who've always enjoyed the musings of my crazy mind) might enjoy the retelling of what went on in my psyche last night.
So, I did that.
And it turned out that everyone seemed to really enjoy the dream!
Even the folks who weren't IN the dream!
So, perhaps, others might enjoy it...hence, this post...my dream from last night:
No, I'm not about to burst into that Matthew Wilder song from the 80s. I actually had a completely bizarre dream last night.
Poop & I were living in a crazy mansion, with lots of art deco-type design. I was in the kitchen, creating a stir-fry for dinner. Poop came into the kitchen and said, "Have you looked at the calendar today? Joanna's having her surgery!"
And I said, "What? Omigod! I forgot!...OK, we're turning this stir-fry into a pot of soup and we're bringing it to her at the hospital...you finish the soup, I'm going to get changed.."
Then I came back from getting changed and noticed that he'd pulled out the absolute SMALLEST Tupperware container we had in which to transport the soup and he'd only filled it up HALFWAY!
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked
"What?"
"Why are you using such a small container?"
"Um....well....I want to have some soup, too..." he replied poutily.
I took over soup duty, put the soup into an appropriately sized container and we went off to the hospital.
When we arrived, I asked at the front desk and the attendant indicated, "Nope. Sorry. Nobody's having surgery today!"
Weird.
Then a gentleman came in and offered us the opportunity to take a test so we could become professional airline pilots--just like that--and we could take the test right there, in the hospital!
So, we took the test and we both aced it...then we figured out it was some kind of crazy scam and we planned to tell the FBI.
As we were leaving to go see the FBI (weird, since we live in Canada), I saw my friend Tara leaving the hospital and realized it was she, not Joanna, who had been having surgery. For some strange reason, Tara was sporting a hideous perm and random patches of hair were dyed bright yellow.
Anyway, I tried to give her the soup, but the desk attendant had eaten it. Oh well.
Then we were suddenly transported to my friends', Lance & Amy's house. Lance & Amy usually live in Rochester. But, in this dream, they lived in a faux wild west village (salloons, hand-painted signs, horses & wild dogs running rampant...you get the idea..).
Lance had gone to buy some paperback books & beer, so we were talking to Amy who indicated that it was Lance's 18th birthday!
Shocked, I asked, "18?! What?? You guys have been married for, like, 5 or 6 years, haven't you? You married him when he was 12??!"
Amy replied proudly, "I know, right?! He's very mature for his age. Did you know, when he was 14, he was given a "Genius Grant" from New York State? It's true."
Then I noticed David Suzuki looking for a gas pump, which was somewhat incongruous, considering his lifelong quest for being green and whatnot. I said, "Hey! Mr Suzuki! Go save an ocelot or something!"
Then, Lance returned, with his paperbacks and his beer, and accidentally allowed a whole pack of wild dogs into the house who, in turn, started fighting with our dogs and ate our pet bunny rabbit.
The whole thing ended with a 20-foot horse walking by the window being ridden by Stephen King.
-------
I really wish I'd made up even 1 iota of this tale.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Apparently, I wear fur!
Before I get started on this post...
Dear PETA,
Suck it.
Love,
Julia
-------------------------------------------
(Everybody get ready: Hilarious non-sequitur alert!)
I hate doing laundry.
My pseudo-psychiatric assessment of WHY I hate doing laundry so much goes back to my childhood...
*Patchoulia silently strokes her scholarly Freudian beard, whilst pursing lips in a manner suggesting that both her brain and her loins are working overtime*
When I was a kid, after my mom died, it became my duty to do the laundry for myself and my dad. I think I was about 9 when this became my designated "chore". I'm not saying that it was undue child labour being forced upon me, most kids have household chores to attend to, and this was actually a fairly pedestrian task and not really all that taxing...I'm just citing it because it's the only thing I can fathom as explanation of my laundry hatred.
When I was in university and I actually had to haul my dirty clothes up and down stairs (and sometimes even down the street!) to reach laundry facilities, I didn't do laundry very frequently, as you can well imagine.
When I got my first apartment in Toronto, after I graduated from university and had my "First Real Job", not only did I continue to eschew the act of doing laundry, sometimes going a month or 2 between trips to the laundromat, but I ended up with the equivalent of 3 peoples' wardrobes. When I ran low on clothing, I simply went out and bought more: Genius!
OK, I know that was stupid. I'm just telling you how it was, illustrating how much I truly dislike doing laundry!
So, the crux of this tale is that, in our household, Poopypants is assigned the job of laundry. Sure, I do it sometimes, but that's his "job". I think he's getting off pretty light, all things considered...I cook most of the time, I do the bathroom, I vacuum, I do 90% of the cleaning. Laundry ain't so bad! :)
Naturally, however, no matter how many times he washes a particular item of clothing, he very rarely remembers the care instructions. I finally got really annoyed, one day, and yelled, "CHECK THE LABEL!!!"
He does have a good capacity for learning and, since that (entirely justifiable) outburst from me, he *has* been checking labels on items for which he cannot recall whether or not they are supposed to go in the dryer! Good boy, Poopypants!
The other night while doing laundry, he says to me, "Are you aware that this sweater is made of rabbit?"
And I replied, "What?" thinking that I must have misheard him.
"Are you aware that this sweater is made of RABBIT?!!!"
"WHAT?!!! What sweater? What are you talking about? Rabbit?!!"
"This brown sweater..."
"Bring it here, the dog's on my feet and I don't feel like moving and I don't know to what sweater you're referring."
So he brought me the sweater...and I looked at the label to confirm this ridiculous revelation (as though I thought he was making it up).
Sure enough, 10% rabbit.
It doesn't even say "rabbit fur". It just says "RABBIT".
10% rabbit.
Maybe it's not even fur! Maybe it's, like, intestines or something!?!
The weird thing is, I bought this sweater from Old Navy i.e. the last place on earth where you'd expect the clothing to have even 1% natural ingredients of any kind! I always thought Old Navy was all acrylic, all the time.
So...do I continue to wear the rabbit-part-infested sweater?
I'm torn.
Probably not as torn as the rabbit, but torn, nonetheless...
Dear PETA,
Suck it.
Love,
Julia
-------------------------------------------
(Everybody get ready: Hilarious non-sequitur alert!)
I hate doing laundry.
My pseudo-psychiatric assessment of WHY I hate doing laundry so much goes back to my childhood...
*Patchoulia silently strokes her scholarly Freudian beard, whilst pursing lips in a manner suggesting that both her brain and her loins are working overtime*
When I was a kid, after my mom died, it became my duty to do the laundry for myself and my dad. I think I was about 9 when this became my designated "chore". I'm not saying that it was undue child labour being forced upon me, most kids have household chores to attend to, and this was actually a fairly pedestrian task and not really all that taxing...I'm just citing it because it's the only thing I can fathom as explanation of my laundry hatred.
When I was in university and I actually had to haul my dirty clothes up and down stairs (and sometimes even down the street!) to reach laundry facilities, I didn't do laundry very frequently, as you can well imagine.
When I got my first apartment in Toronto, after I graduated from university and had my "First Real Job", not only did I continue to eschew the act of doing laundry, sometimes going a month or 2 between trips to the laundromat, but I ended up with the equivalent of 3 peoples' wardrobes. When I ran low on clothing, I simply went out and bought more: Genius!
OK, I know that was stupid. I'm just telling you how it was, illustrating how much I truly dislike doing laundry!
So, the crux of this tale is that, in our household, Poopypants is assigned the job of laundry. Sure, I do it sometimes, but that's his "job". I think he's getting off pretty light, all things considered...I cook most of the time, I do the bathroom, I vacuum, I do 90% of the cleaning. Laundry ain't so bad! :)
Naturally, however, no matter how many times he washes a particular item of clothing, he very rarely remembers the care instructions. I finally got really annoyed, one day, and yelled, "CHECK THE LABEL!!!"
He does have a good capacity for learning and, since that (entirely justifiable) outburst from me, he *has* been checking labels on items for which he cannot recall whether or not they are supposed to go in the dryer! Good boy, Poopypants!The other night while doing laundry, he says to me, "Are you aware that this sweater is made of rabbit?"
And I replied, "What?" thinking that I must have misheard him.
"Are you aware that this sweater is made of RABBIT?!!!"
"WHAT?!!! What sweater? What are you talking about? Rabbit?!!"
"This brown sweater..."
"Bring it here, the dog's on my feet and I don't feel like moving and I don't know to what sweater you're referring."
So he brought me the sweater...and I looked at the label to confirm this ridiculous revelation (as though I thought he was making it up).
10% rabbit.
Maybe it's not even fur! Maybe it's, like, intestines or something!?!
The weird thing is, I bought this sweater from Old Navy i.e. the last place on earth where you'd expect the clothing to have even 1% natural ingredients of any kind! I always thought Old Navy was all acrylic, all the time.
So...do I continue to wear the rabbit-part-infested sweater?
I'm torn.
Probably not as torn as the rabbit, but torn, nonetheless...
Monday, December 07, 2009
Can YOU make any sense of this??
In the evenings, Poopypants & I often watch "JEOPARDY!" and we frequently keep score (for the record, I almost always win). :)
The other night, "JEOPARDY!" came on, and I reached over and opened the bedside table and grabbed a notebook in which we could track our correct responses.
I opened the notebook, flipping past previous evenings' "JEOPARDY!" scores, looking for a blank page, when I noticed on one of the pages, a list of some kind.
It was obvious I had composed the list, it was clearly in my writing, but I had/have zero recollection of the list--none whatesoever!
Even more alarming: The list makes absolutely NO SENSE!
I have to assume I wrote the list in my sleep...though "making lists in my sleep" has never been one of my habits...but what the heck was going through my mind?!!
Can you find a commonality or bond of any kind that links these wholly disparate items together? If so, please, pleeeeeeeeease enlighten me!!
(Note: Punctuation is as it appears in the original list)
Robert
Danny Devito
back hoe driver
17
Samurai's Love
slide
toe
drive
apple
Beverly Hills Ninja
Dodge Charger
Billy
Denzel W.
Reservoir Dogs
stinky
trip
earlobes & bones
Johnny Dangerously
-----------------------------
I gotta tell ya, I cannot fathom a single circumstance where I would ever have a need to reference "Beverly Hills Ninja".
This is inexplicable.
The other night, "JEOPARDY!" came on, and I reached over and opened the bedside table and grabbed a notebook in which we could track our correct responses.
I opened the notebook, flipping past previous evenings' "JEOPARDY!" scores, looking for a blank page, when I noticed on one of the pages, a list of some kind.
It was obvious I had composed the list, it was clearly in my writing, but I had/have zero recollection of the list--none whatesoever!
Even more alarming: The list makes absolutely NO SENSE!
I have to assume I wrote the list in my sleep...though "making lists in my sleep" has never been one of my habits...but what the heck was going through my mind?!!
Can you find a commonality or bond of any kind that links these wholly disparate items together? If so, please, pleeeeeeeeease enlighten me!!
(Note: Punctuation is as it appears in the original list)
Robert
Danny Devito
back hoe driver
17
Samurai's Love
slide
toe
drive
apple
Beverly Hills Ninja
Dodge Charger
Billy
Denzel W.
Reservoir Dogs
stinky
trip
earlobes & bones
Johnny Dangerously
-----------------------------
I gotta tell ya, I cannot fathom a single circumstance where I would ever have a need to reference "Beverly Hills Ninja".
This is inexplicable.
Friday, December 04, 2009
That Inexplicable Kate Gosselin Hairdo
For those of you unaware of "The Gosselins", I applaud you.
And I genuinely wonder how you manage to live without electricity!
Kidding, of course...but, the ubiquity of "Jon & Kate" is pretty hard to ignore. I have, in fact, encountered folks who are unaware of the existence of this kooky family and I assume it's because they're simply too busy with their own lives to notice the exploits of some silly reality TV couple.
Regardless, the "Jon & Kate" phenomenon is a pretty pervasive piece of pop culture and it occasionally feels like we're being cruelly inundated with pointless & tedious details about their lives via all forms of media. The public was initially exposed to this couple, and their 8 children (1 set of twins and 1 set of sextuplets) via their TV show "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" and the subsequent public fascination continued, virtually unabated, until very recently.
I'm not going to talk about the couple, their kids, their show, their pending divorce, nor the skanky crap being volleyed back & forth between them. I don't care about any of that. All I care about is Kate's hair.
It's atrocious.
Worse still, I'm afraid it might be on its way to becoming a "Rachel" or a "Farrah"!
Much like Farrah Fawcett's sausage curls of the 70s and the Jennifer Aniston bob from '94 known as the "Rachel" (for her character's name on "Friends"), both of which became THE style to sport in their respective eras, Kate's entirely inexplicable hairdo appears to be picking up steam in terms of its popularity. I've seen at least 4 or 5 women in Toronto, in the last week or so, freely walking around in public (acting as though they're doing nothing wrong), wearing the spiky-Kate Gosselin creature on their heads!
Don't ask me why...if I could explain that, I could explain parachute pants, I could explain "Everybody Loves Raymond", I could explain GWB's 2 presidencies.....well, I'd have incredible power, I'd be even more of a Goddess than I already am.
I don't know why. All I know is that I am now seeing it everywhere. And it's scary.
I've only been able to capture 1 photo, so far (see below), but I will do my best to get the rest of these morons digitally preserved. Their future grandchildren deserve to know from what idiots they've been sprung.
I have a co-worker who sports a semi-similar style...but, for some reason, it works for him...actually, I think, I should rephrase: He makes it work.
But he's been workin' it for much longer than doucheKate. If this haircut becomes famous, he should get some credit, cuz it looks waaay better on him, than on her or any of her douchey dopplegangers.
And I genuinely wonder how you manage to live without electricity!
Kidding, of course...but, the ubiquity of "Jon & Kate" is pretty hard to ignore. I have, in fact, encountered folks who are unaware of the existence of this kooky family and I assume it's because they're simply too busy with their own lives to notice the exploits of some silly reality TV couple.
Regardless, the "Jon & Kate" phenomenon is a pretty pervasive piece of pop culture and it occasionally feels like we're being cruelly inundated with pointless & tedious details about their lives via all forms of media. The public was initially exposed to this couple, and their 8 children (1 set of twins and 1 set of sextuplets) via their TV show "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" and the subsequent public fascination continued, virtually unabated, until very recently.
I'm not going to talk about the couple, their kids, their show, their pending divorce, nor the skanky crap being volleyed back & forth between them. I don't care about any of that. All I care about is Kate's hair.
It's atrocious.
Worse still, I'm afraid it might be on its way to becoming a "Rachel" or a "Farrah"!
Much like Farrah Fawcett's sausage curls of the 70s and the Jennifer Aniston bob from '94 known as the "Rachel" (for her character's name on "Friends"), both of which became THE style to sport in their respective eras, Kate's entirely inexplicable hairdo appears to be picking up steam in terms of its popularity. I've seen at least 4 or 5 women in Toronto, in the last week or so, freely walking around in public (acting as though they're doing nothing wrong), wearing the spiky-Kate Gosselin creature on their heads!
Don't ask me why...if I could explain that, I could explain parachute pants, I could explain "Everybody Loves Raymond", I could explain GWB's 2 presidencies.....well, I'd have incredible power, I'd be even more of a Goddess than I already am.
I don't know why. All I know is that I am now seeing it everywhere. And it's scary.
I've only been able to capture 1 photo, so far (see below), but I will do my best to get the rest of these morons digitally preserved. Their future grandchildren deserve to know from what idiots they've been sprung.
I have a co-worker who sports a semi-similar style...but, for some reason, it works for him...actually, I think, I should rephrase: He makes it work.
But he's been workin' it for much longer than doucheKate. If this haircut becomes famous, he should get some credit, cuz it looks waaay better on him, than on her or any of her douchey dopplegangers.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Dear UPS...
A couple of days ago, UPS stopped by the house to drop off a package.
No one was home, so they stuck up one of those "Sorry We Missed You" tags.
They didn't stick it on the front door. They didn't even stick it on the SIDE door....
They stuck it on the plastic shed, out back, where we keep store our garbage & recycling.
Now, if the package said, "NAME, ADDRESS, PLASTIC SHED OUT BACK", I could understand the error...but in what universe does a professional delivery driver surmise that the garbage shed is the residence?
"Hmmm. Big house. Couple of doors. Hey! There's even a back patio door! Naw...
That's probably just for show...this pretty little plastic structure must be where they live...they'll never see this little tag if I put it on one of the OBVIOUS doors...."
So, yesterday, we happened upon the little tag (whilst taking out some garbage).
Coincidentally, the UPS truck pulled up just as we found it (Delivery Attempt #2).
To UPS Driver: We just found this...
UPS Driver: It's been there since yesterday!
Right. Our mistake.
No one was home, so they stuck up one of those "Sorry We Missed You" tags.
They didn't stick it on the front door. They didn't even stick it on the SIDE door....
They stuck it on the plastic shed, out back, where we keep store our garbage & recycling.
Now, if the package said, "NAME, ADDRESS, PLASTIC SHED OUT BACK", I could understand the error...but in what universe does a professional delivery driver surmise that the garbage shed is the residence?
"Hmmm. Big house. Couple of doors. Hey! There's even a back patio door! Naw...
That's probably just for show...this pretty little plastic structure must be where they live...they'll never see this little tag if I put it on one of the OBVIOUS doors...."
So, yesterday, we happened upon the little tag (whilst taking out some garbage).
Coincidentally, the UPS truck pulled up just as we found it (Delivery Attempt #2).
To UPS Driver: We just found this...
UPS Driver: It's been there since yesterday!
Right. Our mistake.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Dearest "Cheese Boutique": How do I love thee? (Plus: An odd, semi-related post-script)
There's an amazing gourmet foode shoppe near my house (an extra e at the end of a word means it's e-xtra swanky) called the "Cheese Boutique".
I've lived in this 'hood for 7 years and had never been inside til just the other day...which seems weird, but, since it's called the "Cheese Boutique" and I was vegan for so many years, I didn't think the "CHEESE Boutique" would have anything to offer me! Silly me. It's awesome! With something for EVERYBODY!!
http://www.cheeseboutique.com/
If you like cheese, it's got every possible kind...many of which, I've never even seen (or smelled) before. It's also got fresh breads, soups, baked goods of all kinds, organic veggies, desserts...I could go on and on!
And it's HUGE! Like the size of a regular supermarket almost!
And since it's sort of in a residential area (and not on the main drag of Bloor Street where a lot of these gourmet shops are located), it's not crowded either. The shops in business districts have their products JAM-PACKED in order to maximize the space available to them and, as a result, navigating around shelves & the other customers is almost impossible (at worst) and incredibly uncomfortable (at best).
Anyway, I love it!!! I love it so much, if I were Tracy Jordan, I'd take it out back behind the middle school and get it pregnant!
Yesterday, I was perusing the shelves, wandering around, because I had some free time and wanted to check out every bit of their inventory, at a leisurely pace. I wanted to see everything they had to offer and I also wanted to memorize where everything is so that I can be an expert patron of the store. (Everyone needs a hobby).
Oh! Also, you could conceivably eat enough samples of cheese & pickles & crackers & bagels & chocolates & cookies & chips & grapes & cake (etc etc etc) whilst walking around inside there, you wouldn't even need to buy anything! (Not that I'm recommending this...your patronage allows the "Cheese Boutique" to maintain it's fantasticosity!!).
It was a lot of fun. Wheeeeeee!
If you couldn't tell, I highly recommend the "Cheese Boutique."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
P.S. As I was looking through an area of canned goods, I noticed a can of something called, "Vegetarian Haggis". Um..WHAT??!!!!
Regular Haggis=Ew (but who am I to judge the Scots...to each their own, just keep it away from me)
BUT.....
Vegetarian Haggis=HUH?!?! What the WHAT?
I don't get it.
Why, why, WHY would anyone want that? <-------------not a rhetorical question
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Why isn't this socially acceptable?
There are 2 things that Kuda the dog loves above all else (not including walks in the park & any kind of delicious snack):
1. Stuffed animals that make squeeky noises and
2. Tennis Balls
She loves all stuffed animals, to a degree, but she especially enjoys the ones that squeek. We recently discovered that the American Kennel Club (AKC) makes squeeky stuffies that are considerably more durable than your average stuffed animal--they last a few weeks or even months, as opposed an hour or two, which is great because these things aren't inexpensive!
I also suspect that the AKC spikes these toys with a canine equivalent of catnip--the dog really goes nuts for these things, way beyond explanation.
Last night she was playing, alternating between her stuffed squeeky toy (that we all know as "Ocelot") and her tennis ball.
Kuda & Ocelot in a quiet moment..
I then spied a white plastic object on the floor and realized that Kuda had chewed open her Ocelot and the squeeker had fallen out.
Suddenly, I was inspired to create the greatest dog toy ever: A plush toy stuffed with...a tennis ball!! Oh happy day for all dogs everywhere!
I jumped into action.
First, I distracted Kuda with a treat and while she was chasing a chunk of carrot across the carpet, I grabbed Ocelot and the tennis ball. I then went to work--I had to rip a bigger hole in poor Ocelet's back, but I was able to eventually work the tennis ball into the belly of the beast.
Once it was assembled, I tossed it over in Kuda's direction....and she began to freak the fuck out!
She grabbed on to it, then tossed it aside, then chased after it...then, inexplicably, she tucked her rump in & up and began randomly & vigorously HUMPING THE AIR!
We lost ourselves in hysterics--we'd never seen anything like it!
This is not normal behaviour for this dog--Kuda has never done anything like this this before.
She was spayed when she was a puppy and unless she unleashes (ha!) her secret desires by mounting furniture while we're all at work (or otherwise absent), I don't think she's a big "humper", per se.
My theory is that she was just SO INCREDIBLY EXCITED that she simply could not fathom any other way to express her joy!
My question is this: Why is this not socially acceptable for humans? When we are awestruck and rendered mute and stunned into immobility due to sheer joy--why can't we express ourselves thusly? Why can't we just "hump it out"?
Imagine what a happy world it would be.
1. Stuffed animals that make squeeky noises and
2. Tennis Balls
She loves all stuffed animals, to a degree, but she especially enjoys the ones that squeek. We recently discovered that the American Kennel Club (AKC) makes squeeky stuffies that are considerably more durable than your average stuffed animal--they last a few weeks or even months, as opposed an hour or two, which is great because these things aren't inexpensive!
I also suspect that the AKC spikes these toys with a canine equivalent of catnip--the dog really goes nuts for these things, way beyond explanation.
Last night she was playing, alternating between her stuffed squeeky toy (that we all know as "Ocelot") and her tennis ball.
Kuda & Ocelot in a quiet moment..
I then spied a white plastic object on the floor and realized that Kuda had chewed open her Ocelot and the squeeker had fallen out.
Suddenly, I was inspired to create the greatest dog toy ever: A plush toy stuffed with...a tennis ball!! Oh happy day for all dogs everywhere!
I jumped into action.
First, I distracted Kuda with a treat and while she was chasing a chunk of carrot across the carpet, I grabbed Ocelot and the tennis ball. I then went to work--I had to rip a bigger hole in poor Ocelet's back, but I was able to eventually work the tennis ball into the belly of the beast.
Once it was assembled, I tossed it over in Kuda's direction....and she began to freak the fuck out!
She grabbed on to it, then tossed it aside, then chased after it...then, inexplicably, she tucked her rump in & up and began randomly & vigorously HUMPING THE AIR!
We lost ourselves in hysterics--we'd never seen anything like it!
This is not normal behaviour for this dog--Kuda has never done anything like this this before.
She was spayed when she was a puppy and unless she unleashes (ha!) her secret desires by mounting furniture while we're all at work (or otherwise absent), I don't think she's a big "humper", per se.
My theory is that she was just SO INCREDIBLY EXCITED that she simply could not fathom any other way to express her joy!
My question is this: Why is this not socially acceptable for humans? When we are awestruck and rendered mute and stunned into immobility due to sheer joy--why can't we express ourselves thusly? Why can't we just "hump it out"?
Imagine what a happy world it would be.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Drop Everything--It's National Elevator Escalator Safety Awareness Week! Why Was I Not Told?!!
This morning, as I exited the subway, I heard an announcement come over the TTC's public address system. I missed the first part of the announcement, but I was able to decipher the tail-end of the message....
In that inexplicably monotonous voice (used for all announcements at the TTC) the female voice declared, "...and, since it is National Elevator Escalator Safety Awareness Week, please use extra caution on elevators & escalators."
Huh?
Wait just a second...National Elev..what?
Raise your hand if you were aware that this is National Elevator Escalator Safety Awareness Week.
*tumbleweeds*
I am going to go out on a limb here and assume that very few of us were cognizant of the occasion and, as such, have not been treating elevators and/or escalators with the respect & solemnity they deserve in this, their holiest of weeks.
I think the Escalator Safety Awareness Foundation (yes, it's a real entity, as a quick internet search revealed) needs a new PR guy. They're asking that we, the public, the users of escalating & elevating devices, use them--this week--with extra caution. But how can people fulfill this wish when the EESAW has been so poorly publicized!?!
Additionally, I'm curious as to what using escalators and/or elevators more cautiously would entail?
I may be wrong to assume that the majority of us who regularly utilize escalating & elevating technology do so with at least a modicum of caution. Personally, I've never sustained a single elevator- or escaltor-related injury, in all my years of being elevated & escalated--and I can assure you that I've never paid particular attention to my behaviour whilst riding one. Should I feel lucky to have survived?
So just how treacherous are they? Are escalators & elevators really such a dangerous menace that they need a whole week (every year) AND an ENTIRE FOUNDATION to be dedicated solely to making the public aware of the threat they pose?
Sure, I've seen the occasional "bad seed" attempting to ride the escalator hand-rail or some yahoo trying to push/hold open the doors of an elevator, but those instances are rare. So, other than not pushing people down escalators, what can I, a humble (ha!) commuter/office worker, do to behave EXTRA cautiously during this special week?? 
Hmmm..perhaps I'll stand at the top (or bottom) of an escalator (while throngs of people accumulate behind me) waiting for the moment that feels "safest", to step on...I'll inform people that each of the steps has an aura and I'm waiting for the safest one to present itself. They'll understand. It's "National Elevator Escalator Safety Awareness Week"!
Friday, May 29, 2009
My Upcoming Weekend
What am I doing this weekend, you ask? Well, let me tell you!
To mix things up, I'll be telling this story in pictures....
That's it, so far....looks like fun, no?!
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Random Musings
Let's see...
Today, on the TTC, one of the escalators was being repaired. And the repairpeople had a giant (and I mean HUGE!) "Guide to Repairing Escalators" book open beside them.
OK.
Maybe that's not what the book was actually called--I couldn't see the cover--however, it was clearly an escalator repair guide.
I'm torn--should I be disturbed that they need a book? Or should I feel reassured that they're double-checking their work?
Another TTC tidbit: I saw a pirate awaiting the subway at Sherbourne station, today.
OK.
Well, I don't know for *sure* that he was a pirate.
But he had the jaunty eyepatch!
And he looked mean.
And, while I don't know if he planned to hijack the train and steal peoples' jewels, he did have an arrrrrrrrtistocratcratic air about him...
Today, on the TTC, one of the escalators was being repaired. And the repairpeople had a giant (and I mean HUGE!) "Guide to Repairing Escalators" book open beside them.
OK.
Maybe that's not what the book was actually called--I couldn't see the cover--however, it was clearly an escalator repair guide.
I'm torn--should I be disturbed that they need a book? Or should I feel reassured that they're double-checking their work?
Another TTC tidbit: I saw a pirate awaiting the subway at Sherbourne station, today.
OK.
Well, I don't know for *sure* that he was a pirate.
But he had the jaunty eyepatch!
And he looked mean.
And, while I don't know if he planned to hijack the train and steal peoples' jewels, he did have an arrrrrrrrtistocratcratic air about him...
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
A Tale of Two Concerts
In the past couple of weeks, I've gone to a couple of concerts--both of which had been eagerly anticipated. The first, on May 7th, was Bruce Springsteen and the second, on May 16th, was The Tragically Hip.
I had been yearning to see Bruce for, oh, let's see...about 25 years. "Born in the USA" was the first album I loved in its entirety. That summer, I'm pretty sure I wore that tape out and had to buy a new one, due to continuous, ridiculous playing.
When I learned he was playing Toronto, I was incredibly excited--granted, he hasn't been relevent, in terms of "my music" in many years, but I had heard that the man and his band could still put on an incredible show (that turned out to be true..I'll explain more on this later...). In any case, I really wanted to be there. More importantly, the pre-teen me from the "Born in the USA" summer really wanted to be there.
As for the Hip, they were huge in my later years of high school and through my university years. I was never a crazy fan. I never saw them. I even went to university in their hometown, hung out with various folks from the Hip "organization"...just never caught a show. I did attend a show at which they performed, a music/camping festival in the early 90s, north of Winnipeg. I slept through their performance. So, I figured, I was due. I owed it to this band, this classic Canadian institution, and myself, to finally see them live.
I ended up getting tickets for both shows, which was fortuitous since they both sold out almost instantly (in the case of the Hip, they ended up adding like 5 or 6 more shows to the original 1 they had intended on playing at Massey Hall). I was super pumped.
I was counting down the days til the Springsteen concert. I had seen his half-time performance from the Super Bowl this year and it was, in a word, hot. When he literally blind-sided a cameraman with his crotchal-slide..well..c'mon...good times!
Anyway...I met up with some friends before the show at the always enjoyable "Harbour Sports Grille" near the ACC. Had a few cocktails and headed over to the show. The anticipation in the crowd was palpable. I'm sure I was radiating excitement and, if we could have bottled it, a new energy drink could have been invented right there and then.
Bruce came on, did his thing. And it was clearly "his thing". It was very much like a musical or an opera--an extremely well choreographed performance. Little passion (other than pre-orchestrated passion). It felt like that episode of the Simpsons where Spinal Tap played and said, "We were told they knew how to rock in Shelbyville. But nobody rocks like...[looks on the back of his guitar] Springfield!"
I had been yearning to see Bruce for, oh, let's see...about 25 years. "Born in the USA" was the first album I loved in its entirety. That summer, I'm pretty sure I wore that tape out and had to buy a new one, due to continuous, ridiculous playing.
When I learned he was playing Toronto, I was incredibly excited--granted, he hasn't been relevent, in terms of "my music" in many years, but I had heard that the man and his band could still put on an incredible show (that turned out to be true..I'll explain more on this later...). In any case, I really wanted to be there. More importantly, the pre-teen me from the "Born in the USA" summer really wanted to be there.
As for the Hip, they were huge in my later years of high school and through my university years. I was never a crazy fan. I never saw them. I even went to university in their hometown, hung out with various folks from the Hip "organization"...just never caught a show. I did attend a show at which they performed, a music/camping festival in the early 90s, north of Winnipeg. I slept through their performance. So, I figured, I was due. I owed it to this band, this classic Canadian institution, and myself, to finally see them live.
I ended up getting tickets for both shows, which was fortuitous since they both sold out almost instantly (in the case of the Hip, they ended up adding like 5 or 6 more shows to the original 1 they had intended on playing at Massey Hall). I was super pumped.
I was counting down the days til the Springsteen concert. I had seen his half-time performance from the Super Bowl this year and it was, in a word, hot. When he literally blind-sided a cameraman with his crotchal-slide..well..c'mon...good times!
Anyway...I met up with some friends before the show at the always enjoyable "Harbour Sports Grille" near the ACC. Had a few cocktails and headed over to the show. The anticipation in the crowd was palpable. I'm sure I was radiating excitement and, if we could have bottled it, a new energy drink could have been invented right there and then.
Bruce came on, did his thing. And it was clearly "his thing". It was very much like a musical or an opera--an extremely well choreographed performance. Little passion (other than pre-orchestrated passion). It felt like that episode of the Simpsons where Spinal Tap played and said, "We were told they knew how to rock in Shelbyville. But nobody rocks like...[looks on the back of his guitar] Springfield!"
That being said, my friends who were with us, and had seen him several times in the past, really enjoyed the show. So, perhaps it was simply unrealistic expectations on my part that led to my disappointment.
Then again, there were several reviews in local papers that echoed my impression of the show...so, to each their own, I guess. The Bruce Springsteen train will inevitably keep on rollin'.
As for the Tragically Hip...
I had a great Saturday, to precede the show. Went for a big walk with the dog in the park, came home and ate lunch and watched the start of the Jays game on TV. Then I went out to run some errands in what became POURING RAIN..came home an hour or so later and the score remained the same...and watched the Jays win the game!
We went out for a lovely sushi dinner to our new favourite sushi place, Momiji, with our friends Chad & Sarah who had procured a sitter for the evening so we could all go to the show.
We were looking forward to treating them to a nice dinner, since they have been opening up their home to us (and the gargantuan gaggle of hippies we call friends) for YEARS for fun gatherings. Unfortunately, I don't currenly have a home suitable for entertaining--unless it's backyard weather...Chad & Sarah had even agreed to host a surprise birthday party for Brian, which occurred the previous weekend, and we all had a great time.
Naturally, we all ate too much (this place is reeeeally good) and headed to the show.
Massey Hall is one of the best venues in Toronto at which to attend a concert...the accoustics are incredible, it's aesthetically gorgeous, we usually get really good seats..and The Hip put on a pretty good show. The light/stage show was amazing!
He also sweats more than any man I've ever seen.
I've been on stages, I know what those lights can do to a person! I also have a friend named Schwa--he sweats so much that he brings no fewer than 5 shirts to summertime concert--all this and I'm pretty sure Gord could give Schwa a run for his schweat.
He changed shirts a few times during the show (and there was an intermission) but for the entire evening he toted a white hanky/scarf thing with which he mopped his continually dripping brow--he'd then proceed to throw the sweat-soaked napkins into the audience, and certain fans were strangely compelled to fight for possession of these drenched tokens of rock star juice.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
I *Heart* Hot Sauce
I love hot sauce. It really does make everything better.
For chinese or thai food, I like the chicken hot sauce...Sriracha:
You know: The one w/the big cock on the front. :wink:
For a more tangy hot sauce, I like the green hot sauce that is made in-house and sold at one of my fave restaurants in Toronto...it's called Utopia (the restaurant) and I couldn't find a pic of the hot sauce online, but it is awesome! If I've taken you to eat there, and I didn't encourage you to try to the hot sauce, feel free to smack me next time you see me: I deserve it.
I also enjoy Cholula, from time to time, though hot sauce snobs claim it's fairly pedestrian..(perhaps I've been hoodwinked by the cute, little wooden knob on the top and the fact that I just looove saying the world "Cholula"...c'mon, say it...it's fun!)
I reeeally like "Valentina's"....it's perfect for Mexican dishes, but I put it on almost everything..I have a bottle at home in the fridge and I keep a bottle in my desk at work...
My question relates to this particular hot sauce...in the store they have a "Red" version and a "Black" version...nowhere on the bottles does it explain the difference between them...the only english writing on the bottle is the "nutrional information". I've searched online, but have come up empty-handed. Anyone know?
While searching for this info, I discovered something else: There are a surprising number of blogs out there devoted to hot sauce! Who knew?
On one of them, the guy set out to consume an ENTIRE (different) bottle of hot sauce EACH DAY!...I have to admit, it was riveting...I read several weeks worth and will probably go back for more later...it was called "The Smoking Tongue":
http://smokingtongue.blogspot.com/
I also found these...but I don't have any comments yet, as I haven't had a chance to peruse them...at a glance, I can see they all do reviews of various brands of hot sauce...an excellent resource!
http://www.hotsauceblog.com/
http://www.frommildtowild.com/blog/
http://www.sweatnspice.com/567-10.htm
For chinese or thai food, I like the chicken hot sauce...Sriracha:
You know: The one w/the big cock on the front. :wink:
For a more tangy hot sauce, I like the green hot sauce that is made in-house and sold at one of my fave restaurants in Toronto...it's called Utopia (the restaurant) and I couldn't find a pic of the hot sauce online, but it is awesome! If I've taken you to eat there, and I didn't encourage you to try to the hot sauce, feel free to smack me next time you see me: I deserve it.
I also enjoy Cholula, from time to time, though hot sauce snobs claim it's fairly pedestrian..(perhaps I've been hoodwinked by the cute, little wooden knob on the top and the fact that I just looove saying the world "Cholula"...c'mon, say it...it's fun!)
I reeeally like "Valentina's"....it's perfect for Mexican dishes, but I put it on almost everything..I have a bottle at home in the fridge and I keep a bottle in my desk at work...
My question relates to this particular hot sauce...in the store they have a "Red" version and a "Black" version...nowhere on the bottles does it explain the difference between them...the only english writing on the bottle is the "nutrional information". I've searched online, but have come up empty-handed. Anyone know?
While searching for this info, I discovered something else: There are a surprising number of blogs out there devoted to hot sauce! Who knew?
On one of them, the guy set out to consume an ENTIRE (different) bottle of hot sauce EACH DAY!...I have to admit, it was riveting...I read several weeks worth and will probably go back for more later...it was called "The Smoking Tongue":
http://smokingtongue.blogspot.com/
I also found these...but I don't have any comments yet, as I haven't had a chance to peruse them...at a glance, I can see they all do reviews of various brands of hot sauce...an excellent resource!
http://www.hotsauceblog.com/
http://www.frommildtowild.com/blog/
http://www.sweatnspice.com/567-10.htm
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Saturday in Toronto
I had a ridiculously fun day today..went to the Jays game with some great friends, Chad & Sarah, who garnered a babysitter and took the train in from their burbalicious homestead.
It was supposed to go up to 22 degrees celcius today...while I'm not sure if the temp actually reached those lofty heights, it was definitely a gorgeous day, though very cloudy and the roof at the SkyRogersCentreDome was not open (which was a good thing, as it turns out, cuz it was raining quite a bit when we arrived).
Anyway, we met up w/Chad & Sarah about 15 minutes prior to the game and went in to enjoy a lovely afternoon of baseball (and they bought most of the drinks, so that's always a bonus!)
The Jays ended up winning 4-2 in extra innings, thanks to Lyle Overbay, who blasted a 2 run homer in the 12th, justifying his bobblehead game on Sunday. Way to go Lyle!
The only issue I have with the game, is with the fact that some people are fucking assholes. Dude..
Sarah and I went to the bathroom at some point, I think it was in the 4th inning...we came back and heard an incredible tale of assholishness...apparently, some folks were talking to other folks who happened to be a few rows ahead of them...
Note: During breaks in play, they play really loud music.
So, what happened was, these people were chatting (probably loudly, because the music in the stadium is incredibly loud) and some total cunt looks at them and says, "Were you born like that?"
It was a good thing I was in the bathroom at that point or this bitch would have had her asshole verbally and possibly surgically removed and handed to her.
But I was not there.
So Sarah and I returned to the seats and heard the tale of the bitch who didn't approve of chatting during baseball games.
We continued to enjoy the game.
Of course, later on, another 2 guys/fans, got chastised because they were standing up! Oh no! Not standing up!!
So the usher comes down to ask these 2 guys to sit down..and they politely asked, "Why?"
The usher said, "People were complaining. You have to sit down."
Then some grumpy fucking asshole, sitting a few seats behind them (probably the dick who complained that they'd been standing, in the first place), says, "She told you to sit down! So sit down!"
Hey, fucko, it's a BASEBALL GAME not the fucking SYMPHONY! FUCK OFF!!
Anyway, the usher gets them to sit down...and then I decided to stand up at every conceivable opportunity...sure, I had the usher bitching at me....I took that chance to call her a nazi...
Yay, Saturday! Yay baseball! OK! OK! BLUE JAYS! BLUE JAYS! LET'S PLAY BALL!
It was supposed to go up to 22 degrees celcius today...while I'm not sure if the temp actually reached those lofty heights, it was definitely a gorgeous day, though very cloudy and the roof at the SkyRogersCentreDome was not open (which was a good thing, as it turns out, cuz it was raining quite a bit when we arrived).
Anyway, we met up w/Chad & Sarah about 15 minutes prior to the game and went in to enjoy a lovely afternoon of baseball (and they bought most of the drinks, so that's always a bonus!)
The Jays ended up winning 4-2 in extra innings, thanks to Lyle Overbay, who blasted a 2 run homer in the 12th, justifying his bobblehead game on Sunday. Way to go Lyle!
The only issue I have with the game, is with the fact that some people are fucking assholes. Dude..
Sarah and I went to the bathroom at some point, I think it was in the 4th inning...we came back and heard an incredible tale of assholishness...apparently, some folks were talking to other folks who happened to be a few rows ahead of them...
Note: During breaks in play, they play really loud music.
So, what happened was, these people were chatting (probably loudly, because the music in the stadium is incredibly loud) and some total cunt looks at them and says, "Were you born like that?"
It was a good thing I was in the bathroom at that point or this bitch would have had her asshole verbally and possibly surgically removed and handed to her.
But I was not there.
So Sarah and I returned to the seats and heard the tale of the bitch who didn't approve of chatting during baseball games.
We continued to enjoy the game.
Of course, later on, another 2 guys/fans, got chastised because they were standing up! Oh no! Not standing up!!
So the usher comes down to ask these 2 guys to sit down..and they politely asked, "Why?"
The usher said, "People were complaining. You have to sit down."
Then some grumpy fucking asshole, sitting a few seats behind them (probably the dick who complained that they'd been standing, in the first place), says, "She told you to sit down! So sit down!"
Hey, fucko, it's a BASEBALL GAME not the fucking SYMPHONY! FUCK OFF!!
Anyway, the usher gets them to sit down...and then I decided to stand up at every conceivable opportunity...sure, I had the usher bitching at me....I took that chance to call her a nazi...
Yay, Saturday! Yay baseball! OK! OK! BLUE JAYS! BLUE JAYS! LET'S PLAY BALL!
Friday, April 17, 2009
Weekend in The Cleve
For those of you who are wondering why I keep referring to Cleveland as "The Cleve", it's a "30 Rock" reference.
"For God’s sakes Lemon, we’d all like to flee to the Cleve and club up at the Flats and have lunch with Little Richard, but we fight those urges."
And for those of you who didn't know it was a "30 Rock" reference, we are officially no longer friends--I have no desire to associate with anyone who doesn't watch 30 Rock. What kind of asshole doesn't watch 30 Rock? An asshole with whom I don't want to be friends, that's what kind!
Anyway...
My (# 1 in the AL East) Toronto Blue Jays were playing a series in Cleveland over Easter weekend and, naturally, we decided to go!!
After a leisurely Good Friday, doing a whole lotta nothing, we drove down to Niagara Falls for the night...gambled for a few hours and got a good night's sleep, since we had to hit the road pretty early in order to make it to the stadium in plenty of time for the 1 pm game.
Before we left, we managed to grab a pair of 2nd row tickets (below face value, no less) from "StubHub"--right behind the Blue Jays dugout!! Woohoo!
We woke up Saturday morning and it was a beautiful, sunny day (a huge improvement over the previous day's rain--and the previous day's 3.5 hour rain delay of game in Cleveland!), however, once we stepped outside we realized it was fucking freezing!! Good God.
We had an uneventful drive to Cleveland's "Progressive Field" (formerly known as "Jacob's Field" and (still) affectionately referred to by those "in the know" as "The Jake"). Once we found parking (right across the street from the stadium), we exited the car (with fingers crossed no one would vandalize the car for bearing an Ontario license plate)and realized it was even colder, in Cleveland, than it was in Niagara Falls!! D'oh!
Speaking of "d'oh", I stupidly forgot my gloves in the car. Nor did I bring the blanket with me from the trunk. I'm so stupid.
Indians fans were everywhere, heading in to the stadium, though we did spot more than a couple of Blue Jay hats, here and there, in the crowd. Cleveland is the closest city for which Torontonians can travel for professional baseball or basketball, so it's no surprise that a number of folks made the trek--particularly since this was a long weekend!
I've travelled a lot and been to a number of cities for both Jays and Raptors games. For the most part, people in these cities (and inside the sporting venues) have been remarkably, overwhelmingly friendly and welcoming, even when I'm sporting my team's paraphernalia!
That's not the case in The Cleve.
Fans in this city are rabid & vicious! We previously attended a Cavaliers vs Raptors game and encountered exactly the same thing. Psychos abounded!!
We had wandered around the concourse of the stadium for a bit (freezing!) trying to locate our seats...(and what great seats they were!!). However, when we went to sit down, a crusty old man in the seats beside ours snarled, "I go to ONE GAME A YEAR and I have to sit by JAYS fans...why didn't you just stay home??!"
Well, thanks for the warm welcome!
I ordered a cocktail (something called a "Jelly Bean" w/vodka, watermelon liquor & cranberry juice...it's allegedly some kind of Cleveland Easter treat, though my friend Kimmy, who's lived in the area her entire life, had never heard of it...anyway, it was DELICIOUS! It was also very well iced and the ice didn't melt even a little bit, due to the extreme temperatures, so it was semi-painful to hold).
I'm not sure how cold it actually was, but we could see our breath, and the wind off the lake was very strong that day and, obviously, extremely chilly. Thank goodness there was not a cloud in the sky--it would have been far more uncomfortable than it was if the sun hadn't been beating down all afternoon. In fact, the staff were actually moving people from one side of the stadium (that was becoming more and more shadow-covered as the day wore on) to the other so they could be in the sun!
The game was amazing...the Jays pulled out a victory despite the best (aka worst) efforts of BJ Ryan (the Blue Jays' ostensible "closer") to ruin all the hard work done by ace Roy Halladay, the starting pitcher, and the collective Blue Jays bats....
The Jays were up 5-1 (I can't recall if it was in the 8th or the 9th that Cito brought Ryan in) and Ryan managed to walk the bases loaded. I was so distraught I actually left my seat and paced around the concourse--I couldn't watch! It was too painful!
Anyway, final score was 5-4 for the good guys. :)
Oh, and, Indians fans: Well done! You made us feel so welcome in your city!
"JAYS SUCK!!" ~ Some guy coming out of the washroom, upon seeing a Blue Jays cap--charming!
"She's a JAYS fan." ~ Dad, grumpily, explaning to his young child why I was cheering when the Blue Jays got a hit.
"JAYS SUUUUUCK!" ~ Dad a few rows behind us
"Daddy, what's suck mean?" ~ Child of the dad who believes the Jays suck
"It means they SUCK! I hate them! They SUCK!" ~ Same dad, doing some just excellent parenting...
Overall, we had a great time...I'm also pleased to report that not everyone was as rude to us as the Indians fans inside the stadium were. As we left the game, a gentlemen wished us a "Good night" and then, noticing our hats, laughed and said, "I *know* you two will have a good night..you're Jays fans!!"
After the game, we went to meet my friend Kimmy & her wonderful son (yep, he's one of the few kids I actually LIKE!) JD for dinner at one of her favourite restaurants, with lots of veggie options, called "Tommy's" on Coventry Street. If you're in the area, I highly recommend it!
We arrived pretty early so we parked the car and explored the neighbourhood a bit (after cleverly side-stepping some puke in the parking garage...stink-o-rama!) Very cool area, major hippie vibe, lots of places I'd like to go eat should I ever make it back to The Cleve!
We decided to go for a drink at a bar/restaurant called the "Laughing Lizard" (I could be wrong about the "laughing" part...but I know it had an adjective before the word lizard in the title...it could have been "laughing"...). The drink selection was gargantuan...I was having trouble deciding...I ultimately settled on a Bloody Mary and it was GENIUS! Mmmm...(((Genius Bloody Mary)))...
After dinner, we went to what must be one of JD's favourite places on earth, a crazy novelty store called "BIG FUN". As you can see, it was, indeed, BIG fun.
The GPS lady decided to take us on a scary trek through Sketchville (not a real place) on our way out of town...we were stopped at a light, for what seemed like an eternity, and I don't mind telling you, I was becoming a little bit nervous. In any case, we glanced over at the mini-strip-mall style store to the left and noticed that the windows were all covered with ads for the store's products/services..."Bibles: $6.95 and Up!"... "Crucifixes: Sm/Med/Lg"..."Rat Bait"
Wait--what?
Then we noticed the name of the company:
Wow. What a combination of services!! And, from the looks of things, they started out exclusively selling Christian supplies. Then, for whatever reason, they decided to expand--logically, into pest control!
I have a theory that perhaps, over the years, customers would come in for their religious materials and mention how bad off they were, pest-wise...and T & L, being shrewd business owners, decided to take advantage!!
And that was our trip to The Cleve! A whirlwind of adventure!!
See ya next time, Ohio!
And Cleveland sports fans: Stay classy!
"For God’s sakes Lemon, we’d all like to flee to the Cleve and club up at the Flats and have lunch with Little Richard, but we fight those urges."
And for those of you who didn't know it was a "30 Rock" reference, we are officially no longer friends--I have no desire to associate with anyone who doesn't watch 30 Rock. What kind of asshole doesn't watch 30 Rock? An asshole with whom I don't want to be friends, that's what kind!
Anyway...
My (# 1 in the AL East) Toronto Blue Jays were playing a series in Cleveland over Easter weekend and, naturally, we decided to go!!
After a leisurely Good Friday, doing a whole lotta nothing, we drove down to Niagara Falls for the night...gambled for a few hours and got a good night's sleep, since we had to hit the road pretty early in order to make it to the stadium in plenty of time for the 1 pm game.
Before we left, we managed to grab a pair of 2nd row tickets (below face value, no less) from "StubHub"--right behind the Blue Jays dugout!! Woohoo!
We woke up Saturday morning and it was a beautiful, sunny day (a huge improvement over the previous day's rain--and the previous day's 3.5 hour rain delay of game in Cleveland!), however, once we stepped outside we realized it was fucking freezing!! Good God.
We had an uneventful drive to Cleveland's "Progressive Field" (formerly known as "Jacob's Field" and (still) affectionately referred to by those "in the know" as "The Jake"). Once we found parking (right across the street from the stadium), we exited the car (with fingers crossed no one would vandalize the car for bearing an Ontario license plate)and realized it was even colder, in Cleveland, than it was in Niagara Falls!! D'oh!
Speaking of "d'oh", I stupidly forgot my gloves in the car. Nor did I bring the blanket with me from the trunk. I'm so stupid.
Indians fans were everywhere, heading in to the stadium, though we did spot more than a couple of Blue Jay hats, here and there, in the crowd. Cleveland is the closest city for which Torontonians can travel for professional baseball or basketball, so it's no surprise that a number of folks made the trek--particularly since this was a long weekend!
I've travelled a lot and been to a number of cities for both Jays and Raptors games. For the most part, people in these cities (and inside the sporting venues) have been remarkably, overwhelmingly friendly and welcoming, even when I'm sporting my team's paraphernalia!
That's not the case in The Cleve.
Fans in this city are rabid & vicious! We previously attended a Cavaliers vs Raptors game and encountered exactly the same thing. Psychos abounded!!
We had wandered around the concourse of the stadium for a bit (freezing!) trying to locate our seats...(and what great seats they were!!). However, when we went to sit down, a crusty old man in the seats beside ours snarled, "I go to ONE GAME A YEAR and I have to sit by JAYS fans...why didn't you just stay home??!"
Well, thanks for the warm welcome!
I ordered a cocktail (something called a "Jelly Bean" w/vodka, watermelon liquor & cranberry juice...it's allegedly some kind of Cleveland Easter treat, though my friend Kimmy, who's lived in the area her entire life, had never heard of it...anyway, it was DELICIOUS! It was also very well iced and the ice didn't melt even a little bit, due to the extreme temperatures, so it was semi-painful to hold).
I'm not sure how cold it actually was, but we could see our breath, and the wind off the lake was very strong that day and, obviously, extremely chilly. Thank goodness there was not a cloud in the sky--it would have been far more uncomfortable than it was if the sun hadn't been beating down all afternoon. In fact, the staff were actually moving people from one side of the stadium (that was becoming more and more shadow-covered as the day wore on) to the other so they could be in the sun!
The game was amazing...the Jays pulled out a victory despite the best (aka worst) efforts of BJ Ryan (the Blue Jays' ostensible "closer") to ruin all the hard work done by ace Roy Halladay, the starting pitcher, and the collective Blue Jays bats....
The Jays were up 5-1 (I can't recall if it was in the 8th or the 9th that Cito brought Ryan in) and Ryan managed to walk the bases loaded. I was so distraught I actually left my seat and paced around the concourse--I couldn't watch! It was too painful!
Anyway, final score was 5-4 for the good guys. :)
Oh, and, Indians fans: Well done! You made us feel so welcome in your city!
"JAYS SUCK!!" ~ Some guy coming out of the washroom, upon seeing a Blue Jays cap--charming!
"She's a JAYS fan." ~ Dad, grumpily, explaning to his young child why I was cheering when the Blue Jays got a hit.
"JAYS SUUUUUCK!" ~ Dad a few rows behind us
"Daddy, what's suck mean?" ~ Child of the dad who believes the Jays suck
"It means they SUCK! I hate them! They SUCK!" ~ Same dad, doing some just excellent parenting...
Overall, we had a great time...I'm also pleased to report that not everyone was as rude to us as the Indians fans inside the stadium were. As we left the game, a gentlemen wished us a "Good night" and then, noticing our hats, laughed and said, "I *know* you two will have a good night..you're Jays fans!!"
After the game, we went to meet my friend Kimmy & her wonderful son (yep, he's one of the few kids I actually LIKE!) JD for dinner at one of her favourite restaurants, with lots of veggie options, called "Tommy's" on Coventry Street. If you're in the area, I highly recommend it!
We arrived pretty early so we parked the car and explored the neighbourhood a bit (after cleverly side-stepping some puke in the parking garage...stink-o-rama!) Very cool area, major hippie vibe, lots of places I'd like to go eat should I ever make it back to The Cleve!
We decided to go for a drink at a bar/restaurant called the "Laughing Lizard" (I could be wrong about the "laughing" part...but I know it had an adjective before the word lizard in the title...it could have been "laughing"...). The drink selection was gargantuan...I was having trouble deciding...I ultimately settled on a Bloody Mary and it was GENIUS! Mmmm...(((Genius Bloody Mary)))...
After dinner, we went to what must be one of JD's favourite places on earth, a crazy novelty store called "BIG FUN". As you can see, it was, indeed, BIG fun.
The GPS lady decided to take us on a scary trek through Sketchville (not a real place) on our way out of town...we were stopped at a light, for what seemed like an eternity, and I don't mind telling you, I was becoming a little bit nervous. In any case, we glanced over at the mini-strip-mall style store to the left and noticed that the windows were all covered with ads for the store's products/services..."Bibles: $6.95 and Up!"... "Crucifixes: Sm/Med/Lg"..."Rat Bait"
Wait--what?
Then we noticed the name of the company:
Wow. What a combination of services!! And, from the looks of things, they started out exclusively selling Christian supplies. Then, for whatever reason, they decided to expand--logically, into pest control!
I have a theory that perhaps, over the years, customers would come in for their religious materials and mention how bad off they were, pest-wise...and T & L, being shrewd business owners, decided to take advantage!!
And that was our trip to The Cleve! A whirlwind of adventure!!
See ya next time, Ohio!
And Cleveland sports fans: Stay classy!
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Movie Crushes from the 80s III
This is one of the movies from the 80s that I remember seeing at the theatre and it had a HUGE effect on me....it was like one of those perfect confluences of experiences..(bad) music, (bad) fashion and (bad) timing.
And I loved it all (at the time).
And it's apropos because I hear they're producing a re-make (Editorial Aside: Leave the classics alone, fuckers!):
FOOTLOOSE!
Omigod.
I think I was in grade 5 or 6 when it came out...the soundtrack was beyond awesome at the time.
I remember our grade 5/6 3-day camping trip..we had a ghetto blaster and plenty of batteries and a Footloose soundtrack...we played it over and over and over and over...
I distinctly remember arguing with one of the guys, because he just wanted to play "Footloose" (Track 1) over and over and I had to negotiate with him just so we could at least hear "Let's Hear It For the Boy" (Track 2) at least a couple of times (never mind the whole album).
We finally got to see the movie and I was blown away...
I lived in a small, cloistered town..
I imagined myself in the environment from the movie, meeting Kevin Bacon (REN!) and beating the redneck townsfolk and their racist, pedestrian, closed-minded ways...oh, it was a glorious, divine fantasy for a 12 year old. :)
I am torn about the news that they're thinking of remaking this film...
On one hand, if they could formulate a modern version of this movie, with its elan, modern kids would likely respond to it the way I did, when I was their age: As an inspiration for them, something that speaks to them.
On the other hand, it's almost sacrilegious, to sully the name of such a classic flick!
I pray the filmmakers show due reverence in the new version. ;)
And I loved it all (at the time).
And it's apropos because I hear they're producing a re-make (Editorial Aside: Leave the classics alone, fuckers!):
FOOTLOOSE!
Omigod.
I think I was in grade 5 or 6 when it came out...the soundtrack was beyond awesome at the time.
I remember our grade 5/6 3-day camping trip..we had a ghetto blaster and plenty of batteries and a Footloose soundtrack...we played it over and over and over and over...
I distinctly remember arguing with one of the guys, because he just wanted to play "Footloose" (Track 1) over and over and I had to negotiate with him just so we could at least hear "Let's Hear It For the Boy" (Track 2) at least a couple of times (never mind the whole album).
We finally got to see the movie and I was blown away...
I lived in a small, cloistered town..
I imagined myself in the environment from the movie, meeting Kevin Bacon (REN!) and beating the redneck townsfolk and their racist, pedestrian, closed-minded ways...oh, it was a glorious, divine fantasy for a 12 year old. :)
I am torn about the news that they're thinking of remaking this film...
On one hand, if they could formulate a modern version of this movie, with its elan, modern kids would likely respond to it the way I did, when I was their age: As an inspiration for them, something that speaks to them.
On the other hand, it's almost sacrilegious, to sully the name of such a classic flick!
I pray the filmmakers show due reverence in the new version. ;)
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
I Club My Cat
One day, several years ago, my friend Gill & I were out and about and noticed a car sporting a bumper sticker with the following (endearing & oh-so-clever) message on it:
Gill, horrified, exclaimed, "I *CLUB* MY CAT??!!!"
For a moment, I was confused, both by her vehemence and her response...
I paused for a moment before replying, "Um...yeah...Gill? That's a spade...I *spayed* my cat...."
We still get a good laugh about that one.
Gill, horrified, exclaimed, "I *CLUB* MY CAT??!!!"For a moment, I was confused, both by her vehemence and her response...
I paused for a moment before replying, "Um...yeah...Gill? That's a spade...I *spayed* my cat...."
We still get a good laugh about that one.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Oops!!
Every morning, I tune into CP24 to check the current weather and forecast for the day, so I know how to dress, and whether or not I should stop on my way to work to purchase my 18th umbrella for the calendar year.
CP24 (or "Cable Pulse 24") is CityTV's gift to the hyperactive & ADD-affected: Too much information for a normal person to possibly process all at once, changing faster than the speed of light. Super-information overload. News, weather, sports, some kind of TV broadcast in the left-hand corner and, I assume, Shakespearian sonnets and/or other culturally enlightening fodder on a ticker not visable to mine slow-moving eyes/brain.
In the morning, the TV portion of the channel airs their "Breakfast Television" broadcast, starring Dina & Kevin (a surprisingly unannoying pair of hosts, as far as TV hosting duos are concerned). March 16th must have been Kevin's day off because Frank was filling in for him.
Anyway, Breakfast Television was running some kind of contest/promotion (the details of which are irrelevent to this story, which is a good thing, because I don't have the requisite gumption to Google it) where the hosts randomly choose an entrant and call them at the number they've provided. The chosen entrant *must* answer their phone saying "I watch BT" (or something along those lines) in order to win the big prize.
So, Dina & Frank dialed the potential winner....on speakerphone, of course....the phone rang & rang....and rang....Dina & Frank bantered a bit during this period because, let's face it, "watching" a phone ring isn't the most compelling television, morning or otherwise, and they have to keep us entertained!
During their banter, we heard, "POHOELLO" or something like that...
Dina said, "Hello?"
Random Contest Winner replied "Hello?"
Frank said, "If you were to say something right now, what would it be?"
*pause*
Random Contest Winner finally answered, "You people are fucking crazy..."
Naturally, they hung up on her as quickly as possible, but not before the damage was done...and I laughed & laughed...nothin' like genuinely live TV without a time delay!
Thanks Random Contest Winner. You made my Monday.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
More Movie Characters from the '80s
JD, Heathers
If you remember seeing "Heathers" when it was first released, I can almost guarantee that you came out of the 80s with a huge crush on Christian Slater--regardless of your gender or your sexual preference--you had to be crushin' on JD, at least a little bit.
This was a guy who oooozed suave. He was the epitome of cool. And if you happened to be mired in the cesspool of high school in the '80s, he was a HERO!
Sure, he was a sociopath. Completely & utterly insane. But, somehow, still incredibly appealing! Even in his psychopathy! (perhaps that was part of the appeal?)
Anyway.
He didn't just *denounce* the populariate. He didn't just put down the otherwise indefatigable "popular crowd" with cleverly-crafted insults: He took them out of commission entirely. FOREVER!!
It didn't hurt that Christian Slater was dead sexy, either.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
J.D.: Greetings and salutations... you a Heather?
Veronica Sawyer: No, I'm a Veronica... Sawyer
Veronica Sawyer: That knife is filthy.
J.D.: What do you think I'm going to do with it, take out her tonsils?
Veronica Sawyer: Excuse me, I think I know Heather a little bit better than you do. If she were going to slit her wrists, the knife would be spotless..
J.D.: [lying on the ground with Veronica under his jacket] I thank you. That was my first game of strip croquet...
If you remember seeing "Heathers" when it was first released, I can almost guarantee that you came out of the 80s with a huge crush on Christian Slater--regardless of your gender or your sexual preference--you had to be crushin' on JD, at least a little bit.
This was a guy who oooozed suave. He was the epitome of cool. And if you happened to be mired in the cesspool of high school in the '80s, he was a HERO!
Sure, he was a sociopath. Completely & utterly insane. But, somehow, still incredibly appealing! Even in his psychopathy! (perhaps that was part of the appeal?)
Anyway.
He didn't just *denounce* the populariate. He didn't just put down the otherwise indefatigable "popular crowd" with cleverly-crafted insults: He took them out of commission entirely. FOREVER!!
It didn't hurt that Christian Slater was dead sexy, either.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
J.D.: Greetings and salutations... you a Heather?
Veronica Sawyer: No, I'm a Veronica... Sawyer
Veronica Sawyer: That knife is filthy.
J.D.: What do you think I'm going to do with it, take out her tonsils?
Veronica Sawyer: Excuse me, I think I know Heather a little bit better than you do. If she were going to slit her wrists, the knife would be spotless..
J.D.: [lying on the ground with Veronica under his jacket] I thank you. That was my first game of strip croquet...
Monday, March 02, 2009
Movie Characters from the 80s
Coming of age in the '80s.
Quite an experience, as those of us familiar with the era can (painfully) attest.
Those of us who lived through it can now--hopefully--look back fondly and nostalgically reminisce about the appalling clothing (that we were convinced was *amazing* at the time), the horrendous music (that I will STILL rock out to, any ol' time) and the frightening lack of cellular technology.
And we can also think back in dreamy-eyed revelry and ponder the movie characters (mullets, terrycloth headbands, spandex and all) whom we grew up admiring.
This is going to be a series. How many parts? I have no idea. But I haven't posted anything lately and my fan is growing anxious.
Lloyd Dobler, Say Anything...
Quite an experience, as those of us familiar with the era can (painfully) attest.
Those of us who lived through it can now--hopefully--look back fondly and nostalgically reminisce about the appalling clothing (that we were convinced was *amazing* at the time), the horrendous music (that I will STILL rock out to, any ol' time) and the frightening lack of cellular technology.
And we can also think back in dreamy-eyed revelry and ponder the movie characters (mullets, terrycloth headbands, spandex and all) whom we grew up admiring.
This is going to be a series. How many parts? I have no idea. But I haven't posted anything lately and my fan is growing anxious.
Lloyd Dobler, Say Anything...
This whole film is really well done, and the character of Lloyd is irresistible, almost mirage-like.
I remember watching this movie and wistfully thinking, "If only people like him actually existed in real life..."
"I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that."
"She gave me a pen. I gave her my heart..and she gave me a pen."
"What I really want to do with my life - what I want to do for a living - is I want to be with your daughter. I'm good at it."
Anyway, if you've seen this film, you're lying to yourself if you claim you didn't fall absolutely, 100%, head-over-heels in love with Lloyd Dobler/John Cusack...
Particularly as he stood outside Diane Court's house with the jukebox over his head (ostensibly) blaring "In Your Eyes"...*sigh*...
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