Sunday, July 27, 2008
The Gambler
I'm preparing for my vacation departure tomorrow morning.
The main point of our trip is Bruce at Giants Stadium on Thursday, but in the meantime, there's Atlantic City to discover.
I have $9.00 in American quarters. Plenty to make my fortune, no?
An acquaintance who is a big gambler told me to only play the quarter machines, not to bother with the piddling nickle machines. So off I'm going with my nine bucks.
More than a fortune at the slots, what I'm really hoping for is two days of nice beach weather with no risk of hurricane remnants. Is that too much to ask? I have packed a rain poncho just in case we have to watch Bruce in a downpour. I'm too old for that kind of fun, I think. But for Bruce I will endure it.
The main point of our trip is Bruce at Giants Stadium on Thursday, but in the meantime, there's Atlantic City to discover.
I have $9.00 in American quarters. Plenty to make my fortune, no?
An acquaintance who is a big gambler told me to only play the quarter machines, not to bother with the piddling nickle machines. So off I'm going with my nine bucks.
More than a fortune at the slots, what I'm really hoping for is two days of nice beach weather with no risk of hurricane remnants. Is that too much to ask? I have packed a rain poncho just in case we have to watch Bruce in a downpour. I'm too old for that kind of fun, I think. But for Bruce I will endure it.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Rain, rain, go away
How much rain is too much? This much. It has rained every day this week except for yesterday when I joyfully managed to mow the lawn front and back without getting rained on.
Enuf.
Like any concerned farmer worth her salt, I am worried about slugs and other icky things, and having a lousy tomato harvest 'cause there's too much rain and not enough sun. O we are at the mercies of the gods.
Enuf.
Like any concerned farmer worth her salt, I am worried about slugs and other icky things, and having a lousy tomato harvest 'cause there's too much rain and not enough sun. O we are at the mercies of the gods.
Friday, July 25, 2008
No News is...No News
Well the end of the work week has arrived in London, and I have no news from those sadists, whose sole purpose in life, I have decided, is to torture me by slowing the job application process to a dead crawl.
I am frustrated with these people!
I am frustrated with these people!
Funny Message
Funny one in the ole Romantic Malebox today.
This is only funny because in his profile, he claims to be English-speaking and a university graduate.
If he asks "if we cued meet and we cued see how it goes".
My question: assuming he reads anything at all, when he comes across the word "could" in print does he know what it means? Does he think it's cooled?
In other news, I just dropped something on our secretary's desk. She was away, but there was a profile of some guy from another dating site on her screen. I should've checked him out!
This is only funny because in his profile, he claims to be English-speaking and a university graduate.
If he asks "if we cued meet and we cued see how it goes".
My question: assuming he reads anything at all, when he comes across the word "could" in print does he know what it means? Does he think it's cooled?
In other news, I just dropped something on our secretary's desk. She was away, but there was a profile of some guy from another dating site on her screen. I should've checked him out!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
In Chip News
I tried Pringles Extreme Screamin' Dill Pickle flavour tonight.
What a mistake.
I could NOT stop eating them. I wish I didn't know they existed. They are chip heroin.
Must walk away.
What a mistake.
I could NOT stop eating them. I wish I didn't know they existed. They are chip heroin.
Must walk away.
Romantic Malebox Update
Not much action of interest these days in the Malebox. Just checked in and my profile was viewed by two locals overnight, one at 4:00 a.m. and one at 5:00 a.m.
Which leads to the question: what are these guys doing on a dating website at these ungodly hours? Are they: insomniacs, night owls or very early risers? Maybe they work night shifts and are wasting time on the job. I could never imagine that, wasting time on the job! Outrageous.
Which leads to the question: what are these guys doing on a dating website at these ungodly hours? Are they: insomniacs, night owls or very early risers? Maybe they work night shifts and are wasting time on the job. I could never imagine that, wasting time on the job! Outrageous.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Worrying Thoughts
It occurred to me today that I speak in baseball metaphors more than I realize.
If I went to England, and told some co-worker it was time for him to step up to the plate, would I get a weird look? What if I say I'm 0 for 4 on something? Or I'm out in left field?
What if I'm seen as some quaint colonial, and people just smile politely because they have no idea what I'm talking about?
If I went to England, and told some co-worker it was time for him to step up to the plate, would I get a weird look? What if I say I'm 0 for 4 on something? Or I'm out in left field?
What if I'm seen as some quaint colonial, and people just smile politely because they have no idea what I'm talking about?
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
In Bond News
I watched the Quantum of Solace "teaser" trailer. Looks like more of the same of Casino Royale. That's a good thing.
In other entertainment news...what is up with Christian Bale? Weird story.
In other entertainment news...what is up with Christian Bale? Weird story.
In Real Mailbox News
Passive aggressiveness is its own reward!
Our usual mailman (oh, all right, letter carrier) must be on vacation because I have been getting other people's mail for a few days now.
Today I got some investment statements for the woman across the street. I just dropped them in her mailbox now.
Last Friday, I received a couple of similar looking envelopes for my hated Crazy Polish Neighbhour. They are still sitting on my shelf. When am I going to deal with them? Gosh, I don't know. They may sit there for a long time. I may eventually forget about them.
I think six weeks would be a nice delay. Six. One week for every foot of snow he dumped on my lawn last winter. (If I had a waxed mustache, I'd be twirling it now.)
Our usual mailman (oh, all right, letter carrier) must be on vacation because I have been getting other people's mail for a few days now.
Today I got some investment statements for the woman across the street. I just dropped them in her mailbox now.
Last Friday, I received a couple of similar looking envelopes for my hated Crazy Polish Neighbhour. They are still sitting on my shelf. When am I going to deal with them? Gosh, I don't know. They may sit there for a long time. I may eventually forget about them.
I think six weeks would be a nice delay. Six. One week for every foot of snow he dumped on my lawn last winter. (If I had a waxed mustache, I'd be twirling it now.)
Love that Internet
In trying to research a bit about the people who interviewed me, I discovered that, if I were to get the London job, my boss's boss, is a guy who translates crime novels. I found two of them on amazon in the UK.
That's pretty cool.
I was looking to see if they'd written any work-related publications but found that instead. Ya never know.
That's pretty cool.
I was looking to see if they'd written any work-related publications but found that instead. Ya never know.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Men! Grrrr
Let us think back in time. To a time long, long ago. As far back as 3 months ago. When my friend Linda died.
Doesn't seem like so long, but apparently it is ancient history.
Remember how I said her husband was distraught? In pieces? Inconsolable? Crying more than any man I have ever seen?
That was then.
He's met someone!
Grief? What grief? What me, grieve? he may well ask.
We know nothing about this new woman, but I'm taking wagers that she'll turn out to be half his age. He's 52.
As one of my friends asked today: What kind of woman dates a guy whose wife just died?
Doesn't seem like so long, but apparently it is ancient history.
Remember how I said her husband was distraught? In pieces? Inconsolable? Crying more than any man I have ever seen?
That was then.
He's met someone!
Grief? What grief? What me, grieve? he may well ask.
We know nothing about this new woman, but I'm taking wagers that she'll turn out to be half his age. He's 52.
As one of my friends asked today: What kind of woman dates a guy whose wife just died?
Survivor: London Edition
Well, I survived the phone interview. You just can't know how you're doing in one of these things. Best part: They couldn't see my hands shaking.
They will let me know by the end of the week, whether I'm going on to the next phase or whether I've been tossed off the island.
I did the best I could. They were very nice and non-threatening. I appreciated that.
Man, I am SO glad that is over. I'd love a drink right now.
They will let me know by the end of the week, whether I'm going on to the next phase or whether I've been tossed off the island.
I did the best I could. They were very nice and non-threatening. I appreciated that.
Man, I am SO glad that is over. I'd love a drink right now.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Shaved Kitty
If I had wanted to increase traffic to the site, I would've named this post Shaved Pussy Cat. But I didn't. I am a blogger of class and taste.
This is Ms. Hitler on the day after her spa grooming treatment. She's looking much hairier these days. And is healthy. She'll soon be back to her old long-haired self.
But I still think she's cute this way. Awww.
This is Ms. Hitler on the day after her spa grooming treatment. She's looking much hairier these days. And is healthy. She'll soon be back to her old long-haired self.
But I still think she's cute this way. Awww.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
A First!
I spent an hour on the phone last night with a friend of my sister's who is a job interview whiz. She's amazing. She doesn't coach people for a living, but she should.
This morning I typed up my notes from my conversation with her, and now I'm ready to rock.
For the first time in 10 days I feel confident about the phone interview. Some people can work miracles.
This morning I typed up my notes from my conversation with her, and now I'm ready to rock.
For the first time in 10 days I feel confident about the phone interview. Some people can work miracles.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Such an exciting life
I see from my Romantic Malebox that there is another fellow who has viewed my profile 3 times.
But his rate of matching to me is only 37%, whereas Ignatius rates a 62%. Algorithmicromantically-speaking, new guy is only matching me at 60% of the rate that Ignatius is. See, one hour with Ignatius and I'm juggling percentages around.
Call me Math Girrrl.
I'll check out the profile of new guy later. (What's that? I can already hear JAW Fan accusing me of cheating on Ignatius!)
But his rate of matching to me is only 37%, whereas Ignatius rates a 62%. Algorithmicromantically-speaking, new guy is only matching me at 60% of the rate that Ignatius is. See, one hour with Ignatius and I'm juggling percentages around.
Call me Math Girrrl.
I'll check out the profile of new guy later. (What's that? I can already hear JAW Fan accusing me of cheating on Ignatius!)
Another Exam
I received a notice about another competition for jobs down at HQ in New York. This time they are looking for Editors. How convenient.
I'm drowning in job applications. How many different ways can I write, I love this Organization sooo much and want to work for you?
This sure beats last year when I was sitting here fretting and waiting to be fired.
I'm drowning in job applications. How many different ways can I write, I love this Organization sooo much and want to work for you?
This sure beats last year when I was sitting here fretting and waiting to be fired.
Update II
I can't see a first encounter* going much better than last night. He was the same as his on-line persona: genuine, unpretentious and very polite. Which scores points with me because I hear so much about how people on-line are lying about everything, but he doesn't appear to have lied about anything.
We spent most of our time discussing the website we met on. He's far more familiar with it than I am, so I learned a few tricks. He talked a lot of computer talk; I stared blankly. He admitted he's never read another's man profile, and I said I've never read another woman's. So he was a bit surprised at some of the dumb-ass things men write on their profiles. His is not like that.
I'd see him again. I plan to up his access to me on the site. Oooh, computer lingo.
*better than "meeting", but not a "date".
We spent most of our time discussing the website we met on. He's far more familiar with it than I am, so I learned a few tricks. He talked a lot of computer talk; I stared blankly. He admitted he's never read another's man profile, and I said I've never read another woman's. So he was a bit surprised at some of the dumb-ass things men write on their profiles. His is not like that.
I'd see him again. I plan to up his access to me on the site. Oooh, computer lingo.
*better than "meeting", but not a "date".
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Update
Because I know JAW Fan can't wait to find out if he's going to have a new best friend....
I can report that our "meeting" went really well. Much better than I anticipated. He seems a thoroughly decent guy. It's not love/lust at first sight, or anything remotely like that, but he appears to be a good guy.
He'd get along fine with JAW Fan.
I can report that our "meeting" went really well. Much better than I anticipated. He seems a thoroughly decent guy. It's not love/lust at first sight, or anything remotely like that, but he appears to be a good guy.
He'd get along fine with JAW Fan.
Romantic Malebox Update
I have to change the nickname of my mystery date from Ignatius to Erkel. A self-described nerd who happens to be black. I'm almost ready to think he's pulling my leg. A black guy who loves REM? They are so white. All his taste is sooo white.
When I flew to Italy, I sat next to a black college professor from Vermont (yes, Vermont) who was so nice. We talked about the New Yorker and David Sedaris. Now that was a pretty white black guy.
If Erkel is half as pleasant as that man was, I'm laughing.
When I flew to Italy, I sat next to a black college professor from Vermont (yes, Vermont) who was so nice. We talked about the New Yorker and David Sedaris. Now that was a pretty white black guy.
If Erkel is half as pleasant as that man was, I'm laughing.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Hilarious Spam
Usually I just delete any spam message that makes it through the firewall at work, but the opening line of this one made me laugh out loud:
"In a few weeks you'll start noticing admiring glances shot at your groin"
"In a few weeks you'll start noticing admiring glances shot at your groin"
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Whoa!
As I type, the TSX is down 375 points. That's 375, with a 3. And the Dow is down 177.
Brother, can you spare a dime? What's happening? Who is behind this?
Looks like I picked a bad day to give up valium.
Brother, can you spare a dime? What's happening? Who is behind this?
Looks like I picked a bad day to give up valium.
Peggy, C'est Moi
It’s been a long time since I’ve identified with a character in a movie or TV show, but since I started watching Mad Men, I’m rooting for Peggy because she is so much like me when I was 20 and earnestly working in my first job.
When she discovered her boss’s affair, I remembered finding out that one of the lawyers in the firm where I worked was having an affair with another lawyer’s (outside the firm) wife, I was shocked and not at all impressed. Nonetheless, if he had been my boss I know I would’ve been trying to cover up for him. I was like that. Loyal.
I was the plain girl that none of the men noticed. I kept my mouth shut and never revealed a thing about myself to anybody, except one friend, the only other 20-something secretary in the place. She was hot, and some of the lawyers made passes at her. She mocked them endlessly when we had lunch together.
One Xmas party, I had two (two!) glasses of wine and said a few things that were out of character for the office, and one of the lawyers (in his 50s, I thought he was ancient and creepy at the time) said: Hey, you’re pretty sharp. And I thought: Buddy, you have no idea.
Then I could go home and listen to The Clash and The Jam. They had no idea.
When she discovered her boss’s affair, I remembered finding out that one of the lawyers in the firm where I worked was having an affair with another lawyer’s (outside the firm) wife, I was shocked and not at all impressed. Nonetheless, if he had been my boss I know I would’ve been trying to cover up for him. I was like that. Loyal.
I was the plain girl that none of the men noticed. I kept my mouth shut and never revealed a thing about myself to anybody, except one friend, the only other 20-something secretary in the place. She was hot, and some of the lawyers made passes at her. She mocked them endlessly when we had lunch together.
One Xmas party, I had two (two!) glasses of wine and said a few things that were out of character for the office, and one of the lawyers (in his 50s, I thought he was ancient and creepy at the time) said: Hey, you’re pretty sharp. And I thought: Buddy, you have no idea.
Then I could go home and listen to The Clash and The Jam. They had no idea.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Some Women!
I know I usually complain about male behaviour, but sometimes….
I have learned that a very, very good friend is saying that the exam I passed for the London job wasn’t as challenging as all that because it did not contain the language requirements (i.e. bilingual or trilingual requirements) that a New York HQ job would require.
This is bullshit. And I’m mad as hell at her about this.
She applied to write the exam for a New York HQ job and was rejected, not because of language but because she never finished university, and a U degree is a requirement for qualification. She insists she was randomly rejected. She won’t admit that she was justifiably rejected because she didn’t have the degree.
So now she is deriving some kind of satisfaction from saying that I wrote an easier exam. I am so pissed off at her right now!
I am very much looking forward to receiving notification from New York that I will be accepted to write their exam because I have all the requisite qualifications. Including U degree and bilingualism! So there!
And the day I get that acceptance notification…..I’m going to rub her nose in it.
It’s freakin’ High School all over again. Girl fight! Cat fight!
I have learned that a very, very good friend is saying that the exam I passed for the London job wasn’t as challenging as all that because it did not contain the language requirements (i.e. bilingual or trilingual requirements) that a New York HQ job would require.
This is bullshit. And I’m mad as hell at her about this.
She applied to write the exam for a New York HQ job and was rejected, not because of language but because she never finished university, and a U degree is a requirement for qualification. She insists she was randomly rejected. She won’t admit that she was justifiably rejected because she didn’t have the degree.
So now she is deriving some kind of satisfaction from saying that I wrote an easier exam. I am so pissed off at her right now!
I am very much looking forward to receiving notification from New York that I will be accepted to write their exam because I have all the requisite qualifications. Including U degree and bilingualism! So there!
And the day I get that acceptance notification…..I’m going to rub her nose in it.
It’s freakin’ High School all over again. Girl fight! Cat fight!
In other news
It appears I will meet Ignatius the nerd boy on Thursday.
This IM-ing business is weird. I feel like I know him already. Very odd indeed, this modern world of ours.
This IM-ing business is weird. I feel like I know him already. Very odd indeed, this modern world of ours.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
A Cheesie Moment
Yesterday I went to the depanneur to buy a Gazette. While there, I had a hankering for a snack, so I picked up a single serving bag of Cheetos for $1.29. I then took my place in the queue. There was a 50-something Jamaican woman ahead of me. She turned around, looked at my bag and said:
JW: What you doin' wit that small bag, girrrrl?
(I looked at her confused.)
JW: They so expennnnsiiive. Get de big bag, it's the same priiiice.
Me: But if I buy the big bag, I'm going to eat the big bag.
JW: (pause) Oh, you so riiiiiiight.
She leaves.
Fin
JW: What you doin' wit that small bag, girrrrl?
(I looked at her confused.)
JW: They so expennnnsiiive. Get de big bag, it's the same priiiice.
Me: But if I buy the big bag, I'm going to eat the big bag.
JW: (pause) Oh, you so riiiiiiight.
She leaves.
Fin
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Paging LLJ
LLJ, Please see my comment under the Ooh! post on Tuesday, 7 July.
Everyone else can ignore it, as it's of no interest to others.
Everyone else can ignore it, as it's of no interest to others.
And so it goes
I must've dreamt about the London job all night because I woke up this morning at 7, and I could barely lift my head off the pillow. I had such a tension headache. My neck was in rigor mortis.
Two Motrin and two hours lying on a hot hot heating pad, it was gone, but I fear this is what I am up against.
If I can't get this job, it won't have anything to do with my editing or writing skills, it will be because I physically can't take the stress. Fudge.
Two Motrin and two hours lying on a hot hot heating pad, it was gone, but I fear this is what I am up against.
If I can't get this job, it won't have anything to do with my editing or writing skills, it will be because I physically can't take the stress. Fudge.
Friday, July 11, 2008
The Morning After
Went out with the girls last night. Told them about London and the on-line dating scene. Much wine was consumed. My head hurts.
Ain't nobody today gonna tell me I'm sweet like sugar candy*. I feel like crap.
*Yesterday, a 27-year-old from Morocco told me I was indeed sweet like sugar candy.
Ain't nobody today gonna tell me I'm sweet like sugar candy*. I feel like crap.
*Yesterday, a 27-year-old from Morocco told me I was indeed sweet like sugar candy.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Romantic Malebox Update
I had my first-ever IM chat last night. With the aforementioned Ignatius, the only (seemingly) decent man I've encountered in my first week of on-line "adventure".
Should I be worried that he is a Fantasia fan boy? That's okay, I'm a nerd too. At least this gives us lots of neutral ground for conversation.
You can see where this is leading, right? I will fall madly in love with Ignatius and want to have his babies (in vitro, at my age) but it will be my duty to move to London instead. For Queen and country and a really good salary.
The drama! The bodice-ripping romance! Cue the music, the splashing waves...
Should I be worried that he is a Fantasia fan boy? That's okay, I'm a nerd too. At least this gives us lots of neutral ground for conversation.
You can see where this is leading, right? I will fall madly in love with Ignatius and want to have his babies (in vitro, at my age) but it will be my duty to move to London instead. For Queen and country and a really good salary.
The drama! The bodice-ripping romance! Cue the music, the splashing waves...
London Calling
HOLY SHIT!
I was just contacted by the good folks in London. I have a telephone interview on July 21. If successful, I'd go to London for the in-person interview in September.
In other great work-related news:
I'm officially designating today: MR ANONYMOUS DAY in honour of his landing a new job. Congratulations again. I'm thrilled for you.
Actually, at this moment I'm thrilled for both of us!
I was just contacted by the good folks in London. I have a telephone interview on July 21. If successful, I'd go to London for the in-person interview in September.
In other great work-related news:
I'm officially designating today: MR ANONYMOUS DAY in honour of his landing a new job. Congratulations again. I'm thrilled for you.
Actually, at this moment I'm thrilled for both of us!
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Today's Poll
My "profile" needs to know what is the thing about me that people notice first. Since I'm un-noticeable, and frankly should've become a professional pickpocket or a spy, really, I have to throw this question out to people who know me.
What's the first thing you notice about me? I can't think of anything other than my lack of height. (This is especially true since I stopped wearing those crazy shorts. )
What's the first thing you notice about me? I can't think of anything other than my lack of height. (This is especially true since I stopped wearing those crazy shorts. )
Talking Turkey
Yesterday the travel agent affiliated with our office sent round an itinerary for a trip to Turkey in October. Turkey in on my list of places I want to see, particularly Istanbul.
Today, a gun battle in Istanbul killed 6 people. In front of the US consulate which is, I assume, a place where a lot of tourists need to go.
I'm putting Turkey back in the oven for now. It's not done yet.
Today, a gun battle in Istanbul killed 6 people. In front of the US consulate which is, I assume, a place where a lot of tourists need to go.
I'm putting Turkey back in the oven for now. It's not done yet.
Yer Yellah
One of the dumbest laws in the history of dumb-ass laws is about to be changed. Margarine will finally be allowed to be yellow in Quebec. It has always been sickly white. This was because of pressure for the All-Powerful Butter Lobby, which didn’t want margarine to compete with the yellowy goodness of butter.
Sadly, this law comes 3 years too late, as this dumb-ass law used to always send my dear departed mother on a major rant against the government. She loved to complain about the ridiculous white-margarine law. Really, you have no idea how she loved to complain about it. I’ll be tempted to stop by the cemetery with a container of the new, improved yellow margarine, open the lid and say: Look! Finally! You can Rest in Peace!
Who would’ve thunk the day would come when Big Butter gave in to pressure. I thought you could never mess with Big Butter.
Big Butter would be a great name for a Hong Kong triad chief. mmm butter.
Sadly, this law comes 3 years too late, as this dumb-ass law used to always send my dear departed mother on a major rant against the government. She loved to complain about the ridiculous white-margarine law. Really, you have no idea how she loved to complain about it. I’ll be tempted to stop by the cemetery with a container of the new, improved yellow margarine, open the lid and say: Look! Finally! You can Rest in Peace!
Who would’ve thunk the day would come when Big Butter gave in to pressure. I thought you could never mess with Big Butter.
Big Butter would be a great name for a Hong Kong triad chief. mmm butter.
FanTasia-related item
Ever since Mr. Anonymous mentioned that the noodle place on deMaisonneuve is the only place in town where you can get General Tao tofu, I have difficulty concentrating on anything else. I'm totally distracted.
It's calling my name... the siren's call of General Tao tofu... I cannot resist...
It's calling my name... the siren's call of General Tao tofu... I cannot resist...
In FanTasia news
I have to give credit where credit is due. The FanTasia people have upped the level of service to impressive heights at long last. I got to the theatre at 7:35 last night for an 8:00 screening, and everyone had already been let in to the sweet air-conditioning of the Hall building. It was delightful.
And I love the dj thing. Again last night, I don't know what the music was, but it was excellent.
Maybe that's why they are on-time this year and letting us in early. They paid this dj and, darn it, they're going to use him/her. I like it.
Mad Detective was a real Johnnie To movie. Cops, robbers, killers, good guys and bad guys all mixed up. Now THAT's a Johnnie To movie! Not like The Sparrow which disappointed me. We don't need To to create fluff and pretend he's Wong Kar Wai. We need him to stage the shoot-em-ups and Mexican stand-offs. Oh, and the "mad" detective? Yep, he was mad as a hatter. I love Lau Ching-Wan.
And I love the dj thing. Again last night, I don't know what the music was, but it was excellent.
Maybe that's why they are on-time this year and letting us in early. They paid this dj and, darn it, they're going to use him/her. I like it.
Mad Detective was a real Johnnie To movie. Cops, robbers, killers, good guys and bad guys all mixed up. Now THAT's a Johnnie To movie! Not like The Sparrow which disappointed me. We don't need To to create fluff and pretend he's Wong Kar Wai. We need him to stage the shoot-em-ups and Mexican stand-offs. Oh, and the "mad" detective? Yep, he was mad as a hatter. I love Lau Ching-Wan.
Harmonious?
Courtesy of susieq, I have some inside info on the eHarmony matching process. It's a bit weird to me. But from my reading of some profiles she kindly provided, it seems like the "applicant" checks off a series of statements in the questionnaire, and then the powers-that-harmonize stick all the checked-off answers together to create your profile.
Example: Both of susieq's first two dream dates started their profile with the same phrase "I think it is important to continually try to improve myself". Poor sue, how is she going to pick from all these gems?
See this is why I was rejected. I don't want to improve myself, and I don't want an improving man either. Isn't everybody looking for the guy living in his mother's basement, wearing his ratty sweatpants and typing with cheesie-stained fingers.
Example: Both of susieq's first two dream dates started their profile with the same phrase "I think it is important to continually try to improve myself". Poor sue, how is she going to pick from all these gems?
See this is why I was rejected. I don't want to improve myself, and I don't want an improving man either. Isn't everybody looking for the guy living in his mother's basement, wearing his ratty sweatpants and typing with cheesie-stained fingers.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Ooh
(It's nice to follow up a post called "Ick" with a post called "Ooh".)
I just got a pick-up offer from a verrrry cute Indian guy here in Montreal. Very cute indeed. Only problem is he's 27 years old. 2-7? Maybe I can ask him if his father is single...Got any photos of your dad, sonny? Too bad my niece already has a cute boyfriend.
I'll reluctantly have to hit Delete again. My loss this time.
I just got a pick-up offer from a verrrry cute Indian guy here in Montreal. Very cute indeed. Only problem is he's 27 years old. 2-7? Maybe I can ask him if his father is single...Got any photos of your dad, sonny? Too bad my niece already has a cute boyfriend.
I'll reluctantly have to hit Delete again. My loss this time.
Ick
I just checked my romantic mailbox and there was a message from some guy in Toronto saying "Hey sexy, I want to talk to you". And then giving me his actual name.
I didn't know I could hit a DELETE button that fast. I'm impressed by my own speedy reflexes!
I suppose this kind of thing is going to happen. But, yuck, do I NOT want to be spoken to like that!
I didn't know I could hit a DELETE button that fast. I'm impressed by my own speedy reflexes!
I suppose this kind of thing is going to happen. But, yuck, do I NOT want to be spoken to like that!
Big Math Brains
I got a message from the anti eharmony (AEH) people last night saying: we’ve changed our parameters for matches. Please try it and let us know what you think about your improved matches.
This confirmed what I have suspected about the people who run this site. They have only one thing on their minds: mathematical modelling.
Their goal is to get users to answer as many multiple choice questions and complete as many personality quizzes as humanly possible to give them loads of data that they can run their algorithms on. They get off on math big time.
I’ll be these guys’ fantasies are about performing two equations at once.
I have nothing against math people. I wish I understood math. But I never have. I blame Mr. Tsao. He just taught too fast; I couldn’t keep up.
I shall carry on with my internet quest. But due to the unexpected sudden return of the elusive unattainable Scotsman to the office today, suddenly everyone else looks like chopped liver.
This confirmed what I have suspected about the people who run this site. They have only one thing on their minds: mathematical modelling.
Their goal is to get users to answer as many multiple choice questions and complete as many personality quizzes as humanly possible to give them loads of data that they can run their algorithms on. They get off on math big time.
I’ll be these guys’ fantasies are about performing two equations at once.
I have nothing against math people. I wish I understood math. But I never have. I blame Mr. Tsao. He just taught too fast; I couldn’t keep up.
I shall carry on with my internet quest. But due to the unexpected sudden return of the elusive unattainable Scotsman to the office today, suddenly everyone else looks like chopped liver.
Monday, July 07, 2008
How many more days?
How many days until January 21, 2009?
U.S. President George W. Bush's penchant for slangy speech was always apparent from the nicknames he bestows on reporters, and it doesn't stop with other leaders.
Yesterday, as leaders of the G8 chatted with the heads of seven African nations, a televised feed of their summit in Japan picked up some of the chit-chat before a closed-door meeting, including Mr. Bush's casual style of address with the Prime Minister of Canada.
Mr. Bush slung a casual arm over Nigerian President Umaru Yar'Adua for a chat, until he caught sight of Stephen Harper. “Yo, Harper!” he called, bringing him over for an introduction. (The Globe & Mail)
This is stupid Bush as usual, but I wish he had tried to pronounce the Nigerian President's name. THAT I would want to see on the news.
U.S. President George W. Bush's penchant for slangy speech was always apparent from the nicknames he bestows on reporters, and it doesn't stop with other leaders.
Yesterday, as leaders of the G8 chatted with the heads of seven African nations, a televised feed of their summit in Japan picked up some of the chit-chat before a closed-door meeting, including Mr. Bush's casual style of address with the Prime Minister of Canada.
Mr. Bush slung a casual arm over Nigerian President Umaru Yar'Adua for a chat, until he caught sight of Stephen Harper. “Yo, Harper!” he called, bringing him over for an introduction. (The Globe & Mail)
This is stupid Bush as usual, but I wish he had tried to pronounce the Nigerian President's name. THAT I would want to see on the news.
Addicted Still
I'm having my Green Tea and Passionfruit smoothie. With skim milk.
When I asked for it, the guy said: Do you want a cookie* with that? I laughed and said: I wouldn't have ordered skim milk if I was going to have a cookie. He said, you'd be surprised. I guess it's like the people who always have a Diet Coke with their Big Mac and fries.
*He didn't say biscuit or cake or crisp. Thankfully. No need to consult the High Court. This item is taxable, despite its healthiness. This seems wrong.
When I asked for it, the guy said: Do you want a cookie* with that? I laughed and said: I wouldn't have ordered skim milk if I was going to have a cookie. He said, you'd be surprised. I guess it's like the people who always have a Diet Coke with their Big Mac and fries.
*He didn't say biscuit or cake or crisp. Thankfully. No need to consult the High Court. This item is taxable, despite its healthiness. This seems wrong.
Pure Blogging Gold
I must thank my good friends at eHarmony for rejecting me because in so doing they have launched me on a summer project that I believe will provide a veritable goldmine of blogging material. I speak, of course, of internet dating.
I found another site to join. I filled out their questionnaire, and they accepted me. And, apparently they think I’m wonderful. To protect the innocent I’ll call it Anti-EHarmony (AEH) for now.
I hardly know where to begin. (Oh, my boss is on vacation for the next 3 weeks, which is great for blogging reasons and for Asian movie festival attendance reasons as well.)
First things first. Guys are stupid.
I want to speak to any woman who would be seriously interested in meeting a guy who uses either of these two words in his on-site nickname: “horny” or “licker”. Really, fellas. I’m going to spend one click of the mouse finding out about a guy nicknamed JoeHorny? That is pathetic.
Actually, thinking about it now, it would probably be great fun to check out what he had to say. Or very, very disturbing.
For research purposes I’ll have to decide whether to investigate this doofus, knowing that everyone can check out who has been checking their profile. And when, and how often. That’s fair, I believe, in this game. That means no stalking without the person’s knowledge. And there is a “block” function that can be used to stop someone from accessing your profile if they are creeping you out. Seems safe enough.
Pathetico No. 2. If you are a middle-aged very, very average looking guy, how much luck do you think you’re going to have when the first line of your profile says: I’m looking to have sex with two women at once. My advice: hire two hookers. There’s no other way, pal. And his name wasn’t even JoeHorny. Gotta give the guy credit for honesty, I suppose. He’s not wasting anyone’s time and I’m certainly not going to waste his.
I found another site to join. I filled out their questionnaire, and they accepted me. And, apparently they think I’m wonderful. To protect the innocent I’ll call it Anti-EHarmony (AEH) for now.
I hardly know where to begin. (Oh, my boss is on vacation for the next 3 weeks, which is great for blogging reasons and for Asian movie festival attendance reasons as well.)
First things first. Guys are stupid.
I want to speak to any woman who would be seriously interested in meeting a guy who uses either of these two words in his on-site nickname: “horny” or “licker”. Really, fellas. I’m going to spend one click of the mouse finding out about a guy nicknamed JoeHorny? That is pathetic.
Actually, thinking about it now, it would probably be great fun to check out what he had to say. Or very, very disturbing.
For research purposes I’ll have to decide whether to investigate this doofus, knowing that everyone can check out who has been checking their profile. And when, and how often. That’s fair, I believe, in this game. That means no stalking without the person’s knowledge. And there is a “block” function that can be used to stop someone from accessing your profile if they are creeping you out. Seems safe enough.
Pathetico No. 2. If you are a middle-aged very, very average looking guy, how much luck do you think you’re going to have when the first line of your profile says: I’m looking to have sex with two women at once. My advice: hire two hookers. There’s no other way, pal. And his name wasn’t even JoeHorny. Gotta give the guy credit for honesty, I suppose. He’s not wasting anyone’s time and I’m certainly not going to waste his.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Tennis Anyone?
I cannot believe how much of this beautiful Sunday I spent indoors watching Wimbledon. It just wouldn't end. Awesome match.
The world's gone Mad! Mad, I tell you
Pringles are not chips. The High Court says so. Well, what can we depend on in this crazy world anymore, I ask you.
"The makers of Pringles were yesterday celebrating a High Court ruling that the snack is not a crisp." (i.e. chip, as they are know round these parts)
"The Pringles case comes several years after McVities successfully argued that Jaffa Cakes were cakes rather than biscuits. Marks & Spencer was involved in a similar wrangle more recently over its tea cakes, which HM Revenue & Customs officials insisted were biscuits." (The Scotsman)
Biscuits, cakes, crisps, non-crisps. What's the world coming to? I despair. All these debates have to do with whether these items are subject to GST-type taxes or not, depending on how they are defined. The world is in turmoil. The centre cannot hold. Anarchy is loosed upon the world.
"The makers of Pringles were yesterday celebrating a High Court ruling that the snack is not a crisp." (i.e. chip, as they are know round these parts)
"The Pringles case comes several years after McVities successfully argued that Jaffa Cakes were cakes rather than biscuits. Marks & Spencer was involved in a similar wrangle more recently over its tea cakes, which HM Revenue & Customs officials insisted were biscuits." (The Scotsman)
Biscuits, cakes, crisps, non-crisps. What's the world coming to? I despair. All these debates have to do with whether these items are subject to GST-type taxes or not, depending on how they are defined. The world is in turmoil. The centre cannot hold. Anarchy is loosed upon the world.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Romance is Dead to Me
This is hilarious.
I came home from work tonight depressed and feeling sorry for myself. I need to marry a millionaire so I can leave my rotten place of employment forever and live happily ever after.
But where to meet a millionaire?
So, after seeing their many t.v. commercials, I went to eharmony.com to find my match. It’s true! I did. I filled out an incredibly long personality profile which, as instructed, I answered as honestly as I could.
At the end, here is what they told me.
Quote: One of the requirements for successful matching is that participants fall within certain defined profiles. If we find that we will not be able to match a user using these profiles, we feel it is only fair to inform them early in the process.
We are so convinced of the importance of creating compatible matches to help people establish happy, lasting relationships that we sometimes choose not to provide service rather than risk an uncertain match.
Unfortunately, we are not able to make our profiles work for you. Our matching model could not accurately predict with whom you would be best matched.. We hope that you understand, and we regret our inability to provide service for you at this time. Unquote.
I’ve been rejected by eharmony. I’m a hideous troll! Yikes! I am unmatchable.
But, seriously, I remember reading that this company is subtly religious, i.e. it likes to match up churchy people, without ever saying that this is what they are doing. Could this be true? There were 5 or 6 questions about religion and I answered "No" or "Not at all important" to all of them. I suspect this makes me untouchable in their eyes. Don’t they even want to save my soul? Don’t they want my money? My non-existent romantic life = death of capitalism?
If it isn’t the religion thing, then what else? The problem is, of course, that they don’t tell me why I’m unmatchable in their opinion. Where am I falling outside "normal" parameters? I didn’t even hint at "must be George Clooney" or "must be a millionaire". I was being realistic! I guess I shouldn't have answered honestly.
So now what do I do?
I came home from work tonight depressed and feeling sorry for myself. I need to marry a millionaire so I can leave my rotten place of employment forever and live happily ever after.
But where to meet a millionaire?
So, after seeing their many t.v. commercials, I went to eharmony.com to find my match. It’s true! I did. I filled out an incredibly long personality profile which, as instructed, I answered as honestly as I could.
At the end, here is what they told me.
Quote: One of the requirements for successful matching is that participants fall within certain defined profiles. If we find that we will not be able to match a user using these profiles, we feel it is only fair to inform them early in the process.
We are so convinced of the importance of creating compatible matches to help people establish happy, lasting relationships that we sometimes choose not to provide service rather than risk an uncertain match.
Unfortunately, we are not able to make our profiles work for you. Our matching model could not accurately predict with whom you would be best matched.. We hope that you understand, and we regret our inability to provide service for you at this time. Unquote.
I’ve been rejected by eharmony. I’m a hideous troll! Yikes! I am unmatchable.
But, seriously, I remember reading that this company is subtly religious, i.e. it likes to match up churchy people, without ever saying that this is what they are doing. Could this be true? There were 5 or 6 questions about religion and I answered "No" or "Not at all important" to all of them. I suspect this makes me untouchable in their eyes. Don’t they even want to save my soul? Don’t they want my money? My non-existent romantic life = death of capitalism?
If it isn’t the religion thing, then what else? The problem is, of course, that they don’t tell me why I’m unmatchable in their opinion. Where am I falling outside "normal" parameters? I didn’t even hint at "must be George Clooney" or "must be a millionaire". I was being realistic! I guess I shouldn't have answered honestly.
So now what do I do?
Dear Lord
Since this is the week that contains both a Canadian Holiday and an American Holiday, let's take a moment to compare the behaviour of each of these peoples at the gas pump.
Canadians will swear under their breath while filling up, and blame the government, taxes, greedy oil companies for the high prices, whereas Americans...
...will pray at the pump.
Yep, there's a group of people in Ohio who are going to gas stations and forming prayer circles, asking Jesus to lower the price of gas.
They also want to go to Washington and pray in front of the Saudi Embassy. Yep, that'll help. Doesn't the greatest percentage of US oil get imported from Canada? Pray to ME you kooks! I demand it!
Canadians will swear under their breath while filling up, and blame the government, taxes, greedy oil companies for the high prices, whereas Americans...
...will pray at the pump.
Yep, there's a group of people in Ohio who are going to gas stations and forming prayer circles, asking Jesus to lower the price of gas.
They also want to go to Washington and pray in front of the Saudi Embassy. Yep, that'll help. Doesn't the greatest percentage of US oil get imported from Canada? Pray to ME you kooks! I demand it!
Onward I trudge
I received an acknowledgement from NYC of my application to get on the roster.
Sometime in August I'm supposed to check their website to see if my magical application file number appears on the list of people who will be invited to sit the exam.
I spend my life waiting for a moment that just don't come. Bruce would advise I shouldn't waste my time waiting, wouldn't he?
Sometime in August I'm supposed to check their website to see if my magical application file number appears on the list of people who will be invited to sit the exam.
I spend my life waiting for a moment that just don't come. Bruce would advise I shouldn't waste my time waiting, wouldn't he?
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Middle-age health woes
I have to share this because it was such a Dean Martin moment.
JAW Fan calls me to complain about his sore back, and in the background I hear this loud tinkling noise. I'm about to ask if those are ice cubes I hear, but he beats me to it by saying he's fixing himself a vodka.
I believe it was Homer who said: Alcohol, the cause of and solution to, all of life's problems.
I really think he needed to down some painkillers with that vodka, but he preferred to actually wake up tomorrow morning. I just can't figure out how a person drinks vodka while lying on his back on the floor. I can understand ending up on your back on the floor after consuming vodka (especially with painkillers) but not during the consumption process.
JAW Fan calls me to complain about his sore back, and in the background I hear this loud tinkling noise. I'm about to ask if those are ice cubes I hear, but he beats me to it by saying he's fixing himself a vodka.
I believe it was Homer who said: Alcohol, the cause of and solution to, all of life's problems.
I really think he needed to down some painkillers with that vodka, but he preferred to actually wake up tomorrow morning. I just can't figure out how a person drinks vodka while lying on his back on the floor. I can understand ending up on your back on the floor after consuming vodka (especially with painkillers) but not during the consumption process.
My Name is Nanuk...and I am an Addict
I'm sliding down a slippery slope.
Last month while in The Holy City I went to Second Cup with my sis and niece, and I ordered a green tea-and-passion fruit smoothie. I loved it passionately. So, I resisted going back because I knew from that very moment that this was a bad, bad thing.
Who says you can't get hooked on one hit?
Yesterday, in honour of Canada Day (what an excuse!), I went to SC and bought another. It had been a whole month.
Now I'm sipping another one. From one month between Smoothie Nos. 1 and 2, to a mere 24 hours between Nos. 2 and 3.
At least I'm getting them made with skim milk. But still. I'm feeling decadent. .... And loving it.
Last month while in The Holy City I went to Second Cup with my sis and niece, and I ordered a green tea-and-passion fruit smoothie. I loved it passionately. So, I resisted going back because I knew from that very moment that this was a bad, bad thing.
Who says you can't get hooked on one hit?
Yesterday, in honour of Canada Day (what an excuse!), I went to SC and bought another. It had been a whole month.
Now I'm sipping another one. From one month between Smoothie Nos. 1 and 2, to a mere 24 hours between Nos. 2 and 3.
At least I'm getting them made with skim milk. But still. I'm feeling decadent. .... And loving it.
Survey says
51 percent of U.S. workers 18 and older say their biggest source of stress on the job is their colleagues, according to an online survey.
Only 51 percent, says I?
I thought stupid annoying colleagues would be the main factor for about 95 percent of workers.
Only 51 percent, says I?
I thought stupid annoying colleagues would be the main factor for about 95 percent of workers.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Back to the ole drawing board
I've officially given up on the London job. Tomorrow will mark 5 weeks since I wrote the test, and I got nuthin' from them. I have to assume the people who are short-listed for an interview have been contacted by now. And everyone else, i.e. yours truly, is an also-ran. harumph. I knew the test was a c***sucker, but I still held out that little glimmer of hope. The light has gone out now. pffft. extinguished.
Onward. I completed my application for another job. This is not for one specific job, but to be on the roster of our Big Brothers down in NYC. This is a roster of jobs in the writing, editing, and/or reporting field. You get called either to HQ or to some place in the field.
I don't really want a job through these channels, I just want to write the exam to get more exam-writing practice. The test lasts a whole day, and then there's an interview. Again, only if you are successful on the test do you get an interview. Who knows what comes of this.
Problem with being on a roster is you basically have to take whatever position comes open. You have one chance to turn down an assignment. If you turn down a second offer, you are ziiiip off the roster. And there are very few places where our Big Brothers have offices that I'd be interested in moving to. i.e. NYC, Wash, D.C., Paris, and of course, Roma.
But Geneva? There's lots o'jobs in Geneva. yawn. I'd rather shoot myself than move to Geneva. Bor-ing town. Nairobi? I'd rather shoot myself in Geneva than go to Nairobi. So basically it's NYC or bust. Bangkok? Verrry nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.
I'm sick of my current employer. It's so corrupt. How corrupt is it? you may ask. Here's last week's example: Our head of HR is engaged to be married as soon as his divorce becomes final. His intended is a woman in a technical support job that is graded one level below mine. On the same day we hear about the engagement, we learn that The Intended has been promoted to an analyst job three grades higher than mine. What an amazing coincidence. I can't stand these jerks anymore.
Onward. I completed my application for another job. This is not for one specific job, but to be on the roster of our Big Brothers down in NYC. This is a roster of jobs in the writing, editing, and/or reporting field. You get called either to HQ or to some place in the field.
I don't really want a job through these channels, I just want to write the exam to get more exam-writing practice. The test lasts a whole day, and then there's an interview. Again, only if you are successful on the test do you get an interview. Who knows what comes of this.
Problem with being on a roster is you basically have to take whatever position comes open. You have one chance to turn down an assignment. If you turn down a second offer, you are ziiiip off the roster. And there are very few places where our Big Brothers have offices that I'd be interested in moving to. i.e. NYC, Wash, D.C., Paris, and of course, Roma.
But Geneva? There's lots o'jobs in Geneva. yawn. I'd rather shoot myself than move to Geneva. Bor-ing town. Nairobi? I'd rather shoot myself in Geneva than go to Nairobi. So basically it's NYC or bust. Bangkok? Verrry nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.
I'm sick of my current employer. It's so corrupt. How corrupt is it? you may ask. Here's last week's example: Our head of HR is engaged to be married as soon as his divorce becomes final. His intended is a woman in a technical support job that is graded one level below mine. On the same day we hear about the engagement, we learn that The Intended has been promoted to an analyst job three grades higher than mine. What an amazing coincidence. I can't stand these jerks anymore.
Happy Canada Day!
It's Canada Day, or as it is known in this igloo: Time to Paint the Front Porch Day.
Yesterday, the weather station threw me a curveball and announced it would NOT rain today, so I sped (well, sort of) off to Reno to buy wood stain for the front porch. Is it a sign of lengthy, too lengthy home ownership to be disoriented and lost when Reno no longer carries one's "brand" of wood stain. I was upset. I wanted my brand. No dice.
So I bought CIL instead. Seems okay. But it is oil-based. Strongly oil based. I wondered if some desperate person could come along and siphon the oil off my porch? It is so oil-based that if I was opening the can and using this stuff indoors I would be higher than Harold and Kumar by now. I'd even find their jokes funny probably.
Anyway, first coat is done. Second coat will be applied on the weekend. The exciting joys of summer. Still beats shovelling 20 cm of snow off the darn porch.
Yesterday, the weather station threw me a curveball and announced it would NOT rain today, so I sped (well, sort of) off to Reno to buy wood stain for the front porch. Is it a sign of lengthy, too lengthy home ownership to be disoriented and lost when Reno no longer carries one's "brand" of wood stain. I was upset. I wanted my brand. No dice.
So I bought CIL instead. Seems okay. But it is oil-based. Strongly oil based. I wondered if some desperate person could come along and siphon the oil off my porch? It is so oil-based that if I was opening the can and using this stuff indoors I would be higher than Harold and Kumar by now. I'd even find their jokes funny probably.
Anyway, first coat is done. Second coat will be applied on the weekend. The exciting joys of summer. Still beats shovelling 20 cm of snow off the darn porch.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Quiet Monday
Ho hum. Another leisurely day at home. Picked up my fantasia programme and have been sitting in the sun reading it. Had to come inside because the sun is strong and was making me wonky.
My big decisions today involve how to fit the Johnnie To movies into my fantasia viewing.
I could get used to this not-working routine. ah.
Note to self: Buy lottery ticket. Do lucky dance.
My big decisions today involve how to fit the Johnnie To movies into my fantasia viewing.
I could get used to this not-working routine. ah.
Note to self: Buy lottery ticket. Do lucky dance.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
The Spaniards who blighted my life*
* see YouTube: Bing Crosby and Al Jolson.
Oh well. Seems like I didn't get a single prediction right in the whole tournament. So my fearless prediction for a German victory was doomed to failure.
I usually like Ballack, but I thought he was quite ungentlemanly today. He disappointed me.
Well done, Spain. A good team.
Oh well. Seems like I didn't get a single prediction right in the whole tournament. So my fearless prediction for a German victory was doomed to failure.
I usually like Ballack, but I thought he was quite ungentlemanly today. He disappointed me.
Well done, Spain. A good team.
Friday, June 27, 2008
The Cuteness of War
On the few occasions that I have watched CBS Evening News coverage of the Iraq war, I have often wondered how Lara Logan can wear a dorky army helmet that looks like a chamber pot and still manage to be so cute.
I would be thinking, that helmet is regulation ugh-ly and but she's still so cute in it.
Such cuteness will inevitably, in a war zone, make one a victim of....pursuit by a drunken Australian war correspondent.
Oh Lara. You couldn't resist Michael Ware, could you? Well, who could, sez I.
But Mick was just a bit playa in this story, as it appears cutie Lara was also an element in the break-up of some State Department guy's marriage.
It's the helmet. Guys can't resist a gal who's so cute in a helmet.
I would be thinking, that helmet is regulation ugh-ly and but she's still so cute in it.
Such cuteness will inevitably, in a war zone, make one a victim of....pursuit by a drunken Australian war correspondent.
Oh Lara. You couldn't resist Michael Ware, could you? Well, who could, sez I.
But Mick was just a bit playa in this story, as it appears cutie Lara was also an element in the break-up of some State Department guy's marriage.
It's the helmet. Guys can't resist a gal who's so cute in a helmet.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Hallelujah
Leonard Cohen was amazing. I’m so glad I went. Over the past 30 years I’ve thought of him as a songwriter and a poet, but not really as an entertainer. But he is. Very entertaining. Humble and charismatic.
Highlights. So many highlights. What wasn’t a highlight? For me, the big moment was Hallelujah. Not a song I’ve particularly been drawn to, but the way he performed it last night, with a really surprisingly strong voice, was awesome. You don’t have to be religious to be touched by the power of the word Hallelujah, sung in the right context. It was tremendously moving. Wow. Still can’t get over that.
Next for me was Suzanne. I never realized I’d been waiting 30 years to hear him sing that song in person, but I guess I was. It was amazing.
Also fantastic was Closing Time. What a great, great song. And it really rocked! I’m still singing it in my head. He had an absolutely great band backing him. One guy in particular, on sax and a variety of winds, was so good, I’d go see him on his own. And Lenny is very generous with the spotlight; everyone got lots of solos and he seemed enthralled listening to everyone’s else playing.
And he ran, on and off the stage. And he dropped to his knees and bounced back up. I can barely do that now; I can’t imagine doing it when I’m 70+. I kept thinking: Lenny, slow down, you’ll hurt yourself. He really looked like he could be anybody’s grandpa. Grandpa…with a lively past.
I’ve never much cared for Bird on the Wire, but it was really jazzed up and I liked that a lot too. What else? Take this Waltz. Great. Democracy. Great. Sisters of Mercy. Great. There wasn’t a dud in the whole night. A Thousand Kisses he just recited, didn’t sing, and, hey guess what, it’s a real poem. Gorgeous. I could go on and on and on.
Highlights. So many highlights. What wasn’t a highlight? For me, the big moment was Hallelujah. Not a song I’ve particularly been drawn to, but the way he performed it last night, with a really surprisingly strong voice, was awesome. You don’t have to be religious to be touched by the power of the word Hallelujah, sung in the right context. It was tremendously moving. Wow. Still can’t get over that.
Next for me was Suzanne. I never realized I’d been waiting 30 years to hear him sing that song in person, but I guess I was. It was amazing.
Also fantastic was Closing Time. What a great, great song. And it really rocked! I’m still singing it in my head. He had an absolutely great band backing him. One guy in particular, on sax and a variety of winds, was so good, I’d go see him on his own. And Lenny is very generous with the spotlight; everyone got lots of solos and he seemed enthralled listening to everyone’s else playing.
And he ran, on and off the stage. And he dropped to his knees and bounced back up. I can barely do that now; I can’t imagine doing it when I’m 70+. I kept thinking: Lenny, slow down, you’ll hurt yourself. He really looked like he could be anybody’s grandpa. Grandpa…with a lively past.
I’ve never much cared for Bird on the Wire, but it was really jazzed up and I liked that a lot too. What else? Take this Waltz. Great. Democracy. Great. Sisters of Mercy. Great. There wasn’t a dud in the whole night. A Thousand Kisses he just recited, didn’t sing, and, hey guess what, it’s a real poem. Gorgeous. I could go on and on and on.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Japanese Toilet Update
Remember how much I raved about the washroom at Narita airport? I still hold fond memories of that bathroom stall.
MSNBC has an article today about this fave topic of mine.
Japanese toilets. How I love ‘em.
“Japanese toilets can warm and wash one's bottom, whisk away odors with built-in fans and play water noises that drown out potty sounds. They play relaxation music, too. "Ave Maria" is a favorite.
“High-end toilets can also sense when someone enters or leaves the bathroom, raising or lowering their lids accordingly. Many models have a "learning mode," which allows them to memorize the lavatory schedules of household members.”
How I love the Japanese.
Here’s a weird fact: 23 to 30 percent of Japanese men now sit while urinating. They do so, the report said, for comfort and for "prevention of urine splash."
Japanese women urinate eight times a day, with an average on-seat time of 96 seconds.
On-seat time. Yo, what’s your on-seat time? I love this statistic.
MSNBC has an article today about this fave topic of mine.
Japanese toilets. How I love ‘em.
“Japanese toilets can warm and wash one's bottom, whisk away odors with built-in fans and play water noises that drown out potty sounds. They play relaxation music, too. "Ave Maria" is a favorite.
“High-end toilets can also sense when someone enters or leaves the bathroom, raising or lowering their lids accordingly. Many models have a "learning mode," which allows them to memorize the lavatory schedules of household members.”
How I love the Japanese.
Here’s a weird fact: 23 to 30 percent of Japanese men now sit while urinating. They do so, the report said, for comfort and for "prevention of urine splash."
Japanese women urinate eight times a day, with an average on-seat time of 96 seconds.
On-seat time. Yo, what’s your on-seat time? I love this statistic.
Holy Pants, Batman
You know what I hate? Being spied on, and then gossiped about. Especially by someone I met once, over 10 years ago.
Background. A few months ago, I was on my usual morning bus ride. I was wearing a short jacket. Nothing much happened. When I got to my desk that morning, as I was sitting down, I felt that I had a piece of tape stuck to my bottom. (I'm wondering now why I never blogged about it, as it was quite funny at the time.) Anyway, I deduced at the time that I'd probably gotten off the bus with this tape on my ass and walked a block to work, again with this tape stuck to my ass, come up in the elevator etc etc. (The more I think about it, the funnier it gets this morning.)
So this a.m. JAW Fan calls and tells me that a friend of his who he no longer sees and who I met once over 10 years ago, saw me that fateful morning, with my piece of tape stuck to my backside, and thought I had ripppped my pants and my underwear was showing. All this was related by another friend, who I also met many years ago, maybe once. I'm not even asking why I was being talked about.
First of all, I can't remember what somebody looks like unless I've met them at least three times, and I certainly can't recognize someone I met once 10+ years ago. How can anyone recognize me in these circumstances? So, yeah, I feel like I was being spied on, and no, those were not my underpants I was exposing to the good folk on the morning commute.
You know how you come up with nicknames for people you see every day but don't actually know them. I guess I'm Underwear Woman or Holey Pants to several people on the bus. I guess it's better than Ms Stinky or Jungle Breath.
Background. A few months ago, I was on my usual morning bus ride. I was wearing a short jacket. Nothing much happened. When I got to my desk that morning, as I was sitting down, I felt that I had a piece of tape stuck to my bottom. (I'm wondering now why I never blogged about it, as it was quite funny at the time.) Anyway, I deduced at the time that I'd probably gotten off the bus with this tape on my ass and walked a block to work, again with this tape stuck to my ass, come up in the elevator etc etc. (The more I think about it, the funnier it gets this morning.)
So this a.m. JAW Fan calls and tells me that a friend of his who he no longer sees and who I met once over 10 years ago, saw me that fateful morning, with my piece of tape stuck to my backside, and thought I had ripppped my pants and my underwear was showing. All this was related by another friend, who I also met many years ago, maybe once. I'm not even asking why I was being talked about.
First of all, I can't remember what somebody looks like unless I've met them at least three times, and I certainly can't recognize someone I met once 10+ years ago. How can anyone recognize me in these circumstances? So, yeah, I feel like I was being spied on, and no, those were not my underpants I was exposing to the good folk on the morning commute.
You know how you come up with nicknames for people you see every day but don't actually know them. I guess I'm Underwear Woman or Holey Pants to several people on the bus. I guess it's better than Ms Stinky or Jungle Breath.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Happy St. Johnny B.
My Holiday so far....and it's only 9:03 a.m.
Today is our Fete Nationale. If you don't live here you may well ask how a "province" can have a "national" holiday. You may well ask. But that only proves you don't live here (lucky you). And at age 47, having spent the vast majority of those years in this province, I just can't be bothered to explain it. It's exhausting. Life is too short.
So...my day so far. My Holiday day.
At 6:50 a.m. I am sleeping soudly, but then I hear a loud noise, a tock tock tock tock noise. My street is tres peaceful so a loud noise like this is tres noticeable. I get up and look out the window. There's a cable guy across the street! At six effing fifty. Doesn't he know it's Fete? What is he? Some kind of federalist trouble-maker? I blame Harper for this.
He's pushing a long ladder up against a pole and as each step falls into place: tock, tock, tock, tock. argh. I go back to bed. But now, it's feline bed invasion, as dumb cats who cannot read a calendar properly just think it's Tuesday. They don't know it's Fete! They want breakfast. I shoo them away and after 10 minutes or so, they leave, hating me.
At 7:30 I haven't managed to go back to sleep, but I'm refusing to get up despite the return of the cats and some insistent paws in my face. "Get up, you lazy woman", the cats say, "we don't care that it's Fete. We're anglos and we're hungry." I pull the blanket over my head. And then...in the distance...
A lawn-mower. weep. Isn't there a by-law against noise before 8:00 a.m. I thought there was. Especially on Fete! I can tell it isn't on my street, but on the next street over. Then a second mower joins in. No rest, no Fete for Italian lawn contractors. I guess they're still annoyed about the penalty shoot-out and if they have to be miserable, why spare anyone else. Right.
So I get up at 7:50. Feed the cats. Do they thank me? They do not. By 8:03 I am dressed in my running clothes and sneakers and I'm off to the soccer field to run the perimeter a couple of times. Not joking. I did this. Thank you, cable guy, for waking me early. Thank you, Italian lawn mowing guys, for keeping me awake.
Now I am refreshed, drinking my coffee, and blogging off at the mouth. There's a load of laundry done. I have energy. I deserve a nap in the afternoon.
Today is our Fete Nationale. If you don't live here you may well ask how a "province" can have a "national" holiday. You may well ask. But that only proves you don't live here (lucky you). And at age 47, having spent the vast majority of those years in this province, I just can't be bothered to explain it. It's exhausting. Life is too short.
So...my day so far. My Holiday day.
At 6:50 a.m. I am sleeping soudly, but then I hear a loud noise, a tock tock tock tock noise. My street is tres peaceful so a loud noise like this is tres noticeable. I get up and look out the window. There's a cable guy across the street! At six effing fifty. Doesn't he know it's Fete? What is he? Some kind of federalist trouble-maker? I blame Harper for this.
He's pushing a long ladder up against a pole and as each step falls into place: tock, tock, tock, tock. argh. I go back to bed. But now, it's feline bed invasion, as dumb cats who cannot read a calendar properly just think it's Tuesday. They don't know it's Fete! They want breakfast. I shoo them away and after 10 minutes or so, they leave, hating me.
At 7:30 I haven't managed to go back to sleep, but I'm refusing to get up despite the return of the cats and some insistent paws in my face. "Get up, you lazy woman", the cats say, "we don't care that it's Fete. We're anglos and we're hungry." I pull the blanket over my head. And then...in the distance...
A lawn-mower. weep. Isn't there a by-law against noise before 8:00 a.m. I thought there was. Especially on Fete! I can tell it isn't on my street, but on the next street over. Then a second mower joins in. No rest, no Fete for Italian lawn contractors. I guess they're still annoyed about the penalty shoot-out and if they have to be miserable, why spare anyone else. Right.
So I get up at 7:50. Feed the cats. Do they thank me? They do not. By 8:03 I am dressed in my running clothes and sneakers and I'm off to the soccer field to run the perimeter a couple of times. Not joking. I did this. Thank you, cable guy, for waking me early. Thank you, Italian lawn mowing guys, for keeping me awake.
Now I am refreshed, drinking my coffee, and blogging off at the mouth. There's a load of laundry done. I have energy. I deserve a nap in the afternoon.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Enough of this
Another person I know died over the weekend. She was a work colleague who was in Russian class with me over a few years. We "studied" Russian over the lunch hour, but I never learned anything. I have a vocabulary of about 10 words.
Karandash = pencil. whoo hoo.
Anyway, she had cancer and didn't make it to 50.
This is the fourth person I know who has died in the past two months. Which leads me to ask:
What's with all this dyin' shit?
I'm fed up with it.
First my friend Linda, then a translator who worked on our floor, then my neighbour two doors down and now this. Enough. I've had enough.
Used to be, when I heard someone had died, it was somebody's parent. Now it's the people I know themselves. Frig.
Karandash = pencil. whoo hoo.
Anyway, she had cancer and didn't make it to 50.
This is the fourth person I know who has died in the past two months. Which leads me to ask:
What's with all this dyin' shit?
I'm fed up with it.
First my friend Linda, then a translator who worked on our floor, then my neighbour two doors down and now this. Enough. I've had enough.
Used to be, when I heard someone had died, it was somebody's parent. Now it's the people I know themselves. Frig.
Ha Ha
Thanks to a link from the PostPessimist, I found this great site of comics from Kate Beaton. A lot are history related, and some are just weird. But this one is close to my heart for obvious reasons.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Sigh
I said it before, I say it again. I hate penalty shoot-outs. Bleh.
I knew they couldn't go far without Cannavaro. Oh well.
Go Russia.
I knew they couldn't go far without Cannavaro. Oh well.
Go Russia.
Here we go again
The Azzurri face the music again today.
And, for a change, I'll be at home in front of the t.v. watching the thing unfold.
I can't stand it.
And, for a change, I'll be at home in front of the t.v. watching the thing unfold.
I can't stand it.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
More soccer
Wow. This Euro just keeps getting more exciting by the day.
I still can't believe the Dutch went down. Wow. Those plucky Russkies.
I still can't believe the Dutch went down. Wow. Those plucky Russkies.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Folds
I've been searching the internet looking for the right expression to describe Croatia's performance today.
Folded like a cheap suit?
Folded like a concertina? (not bad)
Folded like a crash test dummy?
Folded like a cheap plastic chair?
They all work. I cannot get over the last 5 minutes of that match. And the penalty kicks. I hate the penalty kick shoot-out; I think teams should go to sudden death and just play until someone scores. But today's 3 out of 4 misses by the Crow-hats was unbelievable.
The Turks are an oddball force of nature.
Folded like a cheap suit?
Folded like a concertina? (not bad)
Folded like a crash test dummy?
Folded like a cheap plastic chair?
They all work. I cannot get over the last 5 minutes of that match. And the penalty kicks. I hate the penalty kick shoot-out; I think teams should go to sudden death and just play until someone scores. But today's 3 out of 4 misses by the Crow-hats was unbelievable.
The Turks are an oddball force of nature.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Line of the Day: US Politics Edition
John McCain is so old when he talk about Iraq he calls it Babylon.
har har
har har
Let's talk about feet
More specifically, the severed feet that keep washing up on our western coastline.
Two more just this week.
What is up with this?
I had assumed, when these little feeties started appearing on the news, that they were bare feet. But no. They are severed feet in socks and shoes.
Where are they coming from?
My theory, and I'm sticking to it, is that there is a mad serial killer/foot severer on the loose in Japan, and he throws the severed feet into the ocean and now they are showing up in BC. This theory is based solely on the fact that I have seen entirely too many Takashi Miike movies.
Two more just this week.
What is up with this?
I had assumed, when these little feeties started appearing on the news, that they were bare feet. But no. They are severed feet in socks and shoes.
Where are they coming from?
My theory, and I'm sticking to it, is that there is a mad serial killer/foot severer on the loose in Japan, and he throws the severed feet into the ocean and now they are showing up in BC. This theory is based solely on the fact that I have seen entirely too many Takashi Miike movies.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Hump Day Question
Here is the kind of question that could only come from JAW Fan. This is based on the comments posted earlier about JAW Fan admitting that, in a pinch, he’d lather up del Piero. Even though the latter is under age 50, and by definition, not desirable to the former.
Question is: what would you do for a friend? How far would you go for a friend's fun and pleasure?
It’s one thing to lather up del Piero for one’s own future…um…entanglements with him. But what if one was asked to do the lathering up for someone’s else pleasure? Would you do it?
Example: Is JAW Fan prepared to lather up del Piero so that I, Nanuk, can be the one to later….um…enjoy young Alessandro? i.e. there’s no pay-off for JAW Fan. (Well, that point can be argued.)
Or: Would I be prepared to do the lathering up of del P. so that JAW Fan can get the reward? (Probably not. It’s just too unfair.)
Seriously, using different friends and different scenarios, this is an interesting way to judge the closeness of friendships. Of course, if this goes on for too long, del Piero gets rubbed raw.
Question is: what would you do for a friend? How far would you go for a friend's fun and pleasure?
It’s one thing to lather up del Piero for one’s own future…um…entanglements with him. But what if one was asked to do the lathering up for someone’s else pleasure? Would you do it?
Example: Is JAW Fan prepared to lather up del Piero so that I, Nanuk, can be the one to later….um…enjoy young Alessandro? i.e. there’s no pay-off for JAW Fan. (Well, that point can be argued.)
Or: Would I be prepared to do the lathering up of del P. so that JAW Fan can get the reward? (Probably not. It’s just too unfair.)
Seriously, using different friends and different scenarios, this is an interesting way to judge the closeness of friendships. Of course, if this goes on for too long, del Piero gets rubbed raw.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
There is joy in Nanukville
O, my beloved Azzurri. How wonderful you are.
How delightful that you live on, you will get to face Spain, and have your asses handed to you on a plate.
How delightful that you live on, you will get to face Spain, and have your asses handed to you on a plate.
Afghanistan
This whole prison break story in Kandahar is unbelievable. The Taliban breached the prison walls using suicide bombers and sprang a whole bunch of guys. You almost have to think: cooool.
If this was a movie it would star Charles Bronson and Steve McQueen in beards.
Now everybody is in a panic because they think these sprung guys are planning to take over parts of Kandahar. Okay.
Sprung Talibaners: 350
NATO troops in A'stan: 65,000.
That's 185 NATO troops for every Talibaner. And the troops are panicky?
This is a movie, right? This can't be real.
If this was a movie it would star Charles Bronson and Steve McQueen in beards.
Now everybody is in a panic because they think these sprung guys are planning to take over parts of Kandahar. Okay.
Sprung Talibaners: 350
NATO troops in A'stan: 65,000.
That's 185 NATO troops for every Talibaner. And the troops are panicky?
This is a movie, right? This can't be real.
Another High Tension Day
Mama Mia! What will happen to the Azzurri today?
Will the Dutch help them out by pounding the crap out of the Romanians?
Will they help themselves by actually winning?
I can't stand it.
Will the Dutch help them out by pounding the crap out of the Romanians?
Will they help themselves by actually winning?
I can't stand it.
Monday, June 16, 2008
File this under "Believe It Or Not"
On Saturday afternoon, yours truly, in the costume of an Italian tenor, including cape, gloves and fake beard made of felt, stood up and sang in front of 30 people, about half of whom were strangers. Yes, me, your humble blogger.
I still can’t believe I did that.
I had written a song parody for a friend’s birthday, and one thing led to another, and it turned into a mini-opera, with me as the soloist and the girls from work as my chorus.
Repeat: I still can’t believe I did that.
Given that a) I’m a total introvert and b) I’m tone deaf and have no voice at all, it was surreal and hilarious.
I volunteered to do this, and was totally calm about it, right up until I started singing. Then about two lines in, I had a panic attack. My hands started trembling, but I knew I had to keep going. A big voice inside my head screamed: What the f*** am I doing here?
I still can’t believe I did that.
I had written a song parody for a friend’s birthday, and one thing led to another, and it turned into a mini-opera, with me as the soloist and the girls from work as my chorus.
Repeat: I still can’t believe I did that.
Given that a) I’m a total introvert and b) I’m tone deaf and have no voice at all, it was surreal and hilarious.
I volunteered to do this, and was totally calm about it, right up until I started singing. Then about two lines in, I had a panic attack. My hands started trembling, but I knew I had to keep going. A big voice inside my head screamed: What the f*** am I doing here?
And all I had before was 2 shandys. I wasn't even close to drunk.
But we all got through it, got huge screaming laughs, and a standing ovation from all present. And the birthday girl looked pretty pleased. And stunned.
I dunno what’s gotten into me lately.
Happy Bloomsday
Wouldn't it be better to be in Dublin, strolling the streets with a piece of soap in your pocket, than doing whatever it is you are doing right now?
Sunday, June 15, 2008
D-Day
Happy Father's Day to the dads out there. I know there's a couple of you reading.
As kids, we would always say to my father: what do you want for Father's Day?
Answer: Peace and quiet!*
Repeat joke, every Father's Day and birthday.
*He never got his wish, being outnumbered 3 to 1 on the female-to-male ratio.
As kids, we would always say to my father: what do you want for Father's Day?
Answer: Peace and quiet!*
Repeat joke, every Father's Day and birthday.
*He never got his wish, being outnumbered 3 to 1 on the female-to-male ratio.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Gasp-a, Gasp-a
The Azzurri aren't quite dead yet. They hang on valiantly. Operatically.
Fortunately, les bleus look pretty crappy, so I have great hope for Italy against France. (I know, now I've gone and done it. I've doomed them.)
And the Dutch look like they could win even without taking the field, so even if they use their B side they should still defeat Romania. I hope. Please.
Fortunately, les bleus look pretty crappy, so I have great hope for Italy against France. (I know, now I've gone and done it. I've doomed them.)
And the Dutch look like they could win even without taking the field, so even if they use their B side they should still defeat Romania. I hope. Please.
Friday, June 13, 2008
There's no tomorrow
Get out your clichés!
It's do or die for the Azzurri today. It's all or nothing.
Their lovely backs are up against the wall.
My heart is pained to operatic heights.
It's do or die for the Azzurri today. It's all or nothing.
Their lovely backs are up against the wall.
My heart is pained to operatic heights.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
South Beach Demise
I saw my doctor today and he shook his head, and tsked tsked me.
Seems South Beach is not the right diet for me. He said I can stay on it for 2 to 3 weeks, but then I gotta give up the red meat, cheese and eggs that are staples of the South Beach way of life.
This is a first. Being told not to diet. Well, he didn't actually say that. He's still demanding to see some serious weight loss by October or his patience will officially run out.
I told my sis and she called my doctor a quote killjoy unquote. Enuf said.
Seems South Beach is not the right diet for me. He said I can stay on it for 2 to 3 weeks, but then I gotta give up the red meat, cheese and eggs that are staples of the South Beach way of life.
This is a first. Being told not to diet. Well, he didn't actually say that. He's still demanding to see some serious weight loss by October or his patience will officially run out.
I told my sis and she called my doctor a quote killjoy unquote. Enuf said.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
TV News
CTV has finally got around to airing Mad Men. I've been waiting forever for this show.
The first episode did not disappoint. It is as has been described: everybody smokes constantly. My sister kept saying "Did people smoke that much?" We can't remember the 60's and smoking, although both our parents smoked at the time. I do recall that.
Also, everyone (i.e the men) is drinking at the office. Love that. The anti-semitism is weirdly casual, and I doubt that black people even exist in this world.
Anyway the show looks great. I love the clothes and the hairstyles. And the amazingly sexist dialogue. At one point, a boss (male, of course) tells a secretary (female, of course) to go home and put her curlers on and relax. My sis said "Anyone who doesn't call herself a feminist should ask herself if THIS is what she wants to go back to."
All the characters seem pretty nasty and conniving. I'll keep watching because I love nastiness, but I think sis will tune out because the creeps on the show were giving her the creeps.
The first episode did not disappoint. It is as has been described: everybody smokes constantly. My sister kept saying "Did people smoke that much?" We can't remember the 60's and smoking, although both our parents smoked at the time. I do recall that.
Also, everyone (i.e the men) is drinking at the office. Love that. The anti-semitism is weirdly casual, and I doubt that black people even exist in this world.
Anyway the show looks great. I love the clothes and the hairstyles. And the amazingly sexist dialogue. At one point, a boss (male, of course) tells a secretary (female, of course) to go home and put her curlers on and relax. My sis said "Anyone who doesn't call herself a feminist should ask herself if THIS is what she wants to go back to."
All the characters seem pretty nasty and conniving. I'll keep watching because I love nastiness, but I think sis will tune out because the creeps on the show were giving her the creeps.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
O My Alessandro
As I fear my days of gazing upon the Azzurri are numbered, I just gotta post one lil picture.
What's Italian for "quel babe"?
What's Italian for "quel babe"?
On the Beach
It's Tuesday. I've been on the South Beach Diet for a whole 8 hours, and I haven't cheated yet.
This is an accomplishment of outstanding proportions.
How come my pants don't feel loose yet? What's taking so long?
This is an accomplishment of outstanding proportions.
How come my pants don't feel loose yet? What's taking so long?
Le Grand Prix
Catching up on late news.
If I'm ever at a red light and see Lewis Hamilton coming up behind me, I'm gonna hope my air bag is working. Dumb kid.
If I'm ever at a red light and see Lewis Hamilton coming up behind me, I'm gonna hope my air bag is working. Dumb kid.
The Scottish Play
On the weekend in the Holy City, we did something we’ve never done before. We went to a play.
The National Theatre of Scotland was presenting its play on the Black Watch, and the regiment’s deployment to Iraq. In the spirit of the production, I have to say it was fucking fantastic. Even my army-lovin’ nephew liked it, and he confirmed that the lingo was authentically military, i.e. literally every second word was an “f” word or a “c” word.
The staging was excellent, but the place was sweltering hot. The performances were really really athletic as these guys did a tremendous amount of running, jumping and getting blown up.
The highlight for me was a segment where one guy recites the entire 300-year history of the regiment, while the other actors carry him around and dress and undress him in the evolving uniform. It was so cool, done so fast and so smoothly, I was impressed and not just because I got to watch a Scotsman getting dressed and undressed.
Here’s the YouTube clip of the promo. http://youtube.com/watch?v=6j_DqmTXHP8
The National Theatre of Scotland was presenting its play on the Black Watch, and the regiment’s deployment to Iraq. In the spirit of the production, I have to say it was fucking fantastic. Even my army-lovin’ nephew liked it, and he confirmed that the lingo was authentically military, i.e. literally every second word was an “f” word or a “c” word.
The staging was excellent, but the place was sweltering hot. The performances were really really athletic as these guys did a tremendous amount of running, jumping and getting blown up.
The highlight for me was a segment where one guy recites the entire 300-year history of the regiment, while the other actors carry him around and dress and undress him in the evolving uniform. It was so cool, done so fast and so smoothly, I was impressed and not just because I got to watch a Scotsman getting dressed and undressed.
Here’s the YouTube clip of the promo. http://youtube.com/watch?v=6j_DqmTXHP8
Monday, June 09, 2008
The Belmont
(I'm home from Toronto.)
If anyone needs a horse jinxed, just leave a comment at this site.
Apparently my horse jinxing skills are at their most powerful and awesome level ever.
If anyone needs a horse jinxed, just leave a comment at this site.
Apparently my horse jinxing skills are at their most powerful and awesome level ever.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Friday Rount-Up
1) I heard from the folks in London that my exam has been received there and is currently being corrected. This, at least, alleviates my fear that my papers fell into the Atlantic.
2) Seems to be lots of new news on our girl Julie and her boobs and her/their more recent connections to organized crime. Max still hasn’t surfaced. Where in the world in Max?
3) Euro2008 starts tomorrow. Ms. Mushrooms has a question for JAW Fan on this subject: How can he not be a fan of this veritable Man Fest? Any man-watcher worth her/his salt, has to watch soccer, especially Euro soccer. No?
4) Finally, out with the girls last night. In our group of seven (how Canadian), four were sober (including me, I had the car) and three got absolutely hammered. Seriously shit-faced. I then had to endure a drunken tirade from a good friend, about how “stoic” I always am, and how I never get drunk, and never “relax”. Oh, yes, I thought, that is so true. Never.
2) Seems to be lots of new news on our girl Julie and her boobs and her/their more recent connections to organized crime. Max still hasn’t surfaced. Where in the world in Max?
3) Euro2008 starts tomorrow. Ms. Mushrooms has a question for JAW Fan on this subject: How can he not be a fan of this veritable Man Fest? Any man-watcher worth her/his salt, has to watch soccer, especially Euro soccer. No?
4) Finally, out with the girls last night. In our group of seven (how Canadian), four were sober (including me, I had the car) and three got absolutely hammered. Seriously shit-faced. I then had to endure a drunken tirade from a good friend, about how “stoic” I always am, and how I never get drunk, and never “relax”. Oh, yes, I thought, that is so true. Never.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Over and over and over again
If you were like me as a child, you could listen to the same record many, many times in a row.
What is the song you think you've listened to the most times in your life? (Mr. Anonymous wants to know! Don't disappoint Mr. Anonymous.)
As a kid I must've listened to ABC by the Jackson 5 hundreds of times. I still like it.
Present day, as an ipod wearer, I had to think about what is the song on the ipod I'm most likely to just flip to while I'm the bus, just because I always feel like listening to it. This may be a surprise, but it's Sweet Child o' Mine. I don't think I've ever worn my ipod without listening to it at least once. It's such a great song.
What is the song you think you've listened to the most times in your life? (Mr. Anonymous wants to know! Don't disappoint Mr. Anonymous.)
As a kid I must've listened to ABC by the Jackson 5 hundreds of times. I still like it.
Present day, as an ipod wearer, I had to think about what is the song on the ipod I'm most likely to just flip to while I'm the bus, just because I always feel like listening to it. This may be a surprise, but it's Sweet Child o' Mine. I don't think I've ever worn my ipod without listening to it at least once. It's such a great song.
Trousers Rolled
We are old. We got information on the demographics of our staff today.
Of the over 700 employees here, only 15 are in their 20's. 15 out of 700.
We have a mandatory retirement age of 60, but there are 33 people over 60 still working here. Does this make sense?
What happens to youthful enthusiasm and drive and innovation? I guess we say pfffft to that.
A huge chunk of people are in their 50's. Half the staff will be retiring in the next 10 years. It seems like nobody but me is alarmed about this looming mass exodus. It's like everybody is dreaming of their retirement and saying "apres moi, le deluge". Nobody cares.
What's even scarier is that one of the super-ambitious younger managers, the type that the future of the place is being built on, resigned this week. There are greener pastures for her out there. We are so screwed.
Of the over 700 employees here, only 15 are in their 20's. 15 out of 700.
We have a mandatory retirement age of 60, but there are 33 people over 60 still working here. Does this make sense?
What happens to youthful enthusiasm and drive and innovation? I guess we say pfffft to that.
A huge chunk of people are in their 50's. Half the staff will be retiring in the next 10 years. It seems like nobody but me is alarmed about this looming mass exodus. It's like everybody is dreaming of their retirement and saying "apres moi, le deluge". Nobody cares.
What's even scarier is that one of the super-ambitious younger managers, the type that the future of the place is being built on, resigned this week. There are greener pastures for her out there. We are so screwed.
In Sport News
Ta-da! (Applause, applause, applesauce)
For the first time in my life, my fearless sport prediction has come true. Congratulations Red Wings.
I shall now continue to ride my wave of infallibility.
The Belmont: Big Brown wins. First Triple Crown winner since 1978.
Euro2008: My heart still bleeds Azzurri blue, but the Italians won't do it.
Winner will be: Germany.
For the first time in my life, my fearless sport prediction has come true. Congratulations Red Wings.
I shall now continue to ride my wave of infallibility.
The Belmont: Big Brown wins. First Triple Crown winner since 1978.
Euro2008: My heart still bleeds Azzurri blue, but the Italians won't do it.
Winner will be: Germany.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
American Politics
It would be wrong to ignore the Obama story, so here goes. I'm happy. But I like Hillz and I would've been happy with her getting the nomination, too. So, there ya go. I'm happy. Go Barry!
I hope, when he's President, that he goes back to smoking in public. He's kind of a sexy smoker, and that's what the world needs now.
But who I really like is Michele Obama. Every time I hear her speak, I wanna say "You go, girl" and I've never, ever said "You go, girl" to anyone about anything in my entire life. So, there ya go...girl.
I hope, when he's President, that he goes back to smoking in public. He's kind of a sexy smoker, and that's what the world needs now.
But who I really like is Michele Obama. Every time I hear her speak, I wanna say "You go, girl" and I've never, ever said "You go, girl" to anyone about anything in my entire life. So, there ya go...girl.
Diet Talk from Kingsley Amis
He said: “The first, indeed the only, requirement of a diet is that it should lose you weight without reducing your alcoholic intake by the smallest degree.”
Amis's three books on drinking have been reissued in a single volume. I'll drink to that.
Amis's three books on drinking have been reissued in a single volume. I'll drink to that.
Here I go again
Next Tuesday I plan to start the South Beach Diet. Why? Well, other than the obvious (I’m fat), I got the book for $2 at the book sale last week and thought, why not?
Why next Tuesday? Because I have a pig-out scheduled for tomorrow night, then I’m off to the Holy City on Saturday for my sis’s birthday on Sunday. (Hello, Dairy Queen Ice Cream Cake.) I shall return on Monday to commence the diet on Tuesday.
I’ll be seeing the doctor on Thursday, where I’ll be able to say to him that I’ve been on a diet for 48 hours, can’t you tell?
Why are you getting a one-week warning about this? It provides ample time to find other blogs to read because I’m going to be a very crabby crab, a chipless crab, a pastaless crab, a carbless crab, while doing this, and it won’t be pretty. I might even write nasty things.
I’m giving it a 3-week try. It appears to work because I've lost a pound this week just thinking about starting it. That's pretty impressive.
Alas, if it doesn’t work, I’ll just find a homeless Japanese woman to come live in my closet and eat all my food while I’m out.
Why next Tuesday? Because I have a pig-out scheduled for tomorrow night, then I’m off to the Holy City on Saturday for my sis’s birthday on Sunday. (Hello, Dairy Queen Ice Cream Cake.) I shall return on Monday to commence the diet on Tuesday.
I’ll be seeing the doctor on Thursday, where I’ll be able to say to him that I’ve been on a diet for 48 hours, can’t you tell?
Why are you getting a one-week warning about this? It provides ample time to find other blogs to read because I’m going to be a very crabby crab, a chipless crab, a pastaless crab, a carbless crab, while doing this, and it won’t be pretty. I might even write nasty things.
I’m giving it a 3-week try. It appears to work because I've lost a pound this week just thinking about starting it. That's pretty impressive.
Alas, if it doesn’t work, I’ll just find a homeless Japanese woman to come live in my closet and eat all my food while I’m out.
How could he not know?
This is one of those odd news stories that I just don’t get. I’m talking about the guy in Japan who found the woman living in his closet.
Homes in Japan are tiny. How can someone be living in your house and you don’t know it. I take it she never wore squeaky shoes. And his floorboards don’t creak. And he’s a heavy sleeper. I wake up if the cats make too much noise going downstairs.
Over the months, he noticed food disappearing from his house. But this wasn’t enough to do a thorough search of his house? Did he just shrug, and say, oh well, some food disappeared. How long did he wait? I’d be going nuts if food suddenly went missing (especially Pringles). I’d assume the cats had gotten into something and had learned how to open the fridge. They are diabolical.
Also, the first time she went in because the door was unlocked, but what about all the other times. Did the guy never lock his front door? Even after the food started disappearing? If he didn’t, he deserves to have a homeless woman living in his closet.
The guy is dumb. And he lives in Japan, home of Takashi Miike. Did he not realize the danger he was in. Freakish mutilation could have occurred, or at the very least, crazed schoolgirls might’ve chased him and loved him up. Hmmmm.
Homes in Japan are tiny. How can someone be living in your house and you don’t know it. I take it she never wore squeaky shoes. And his floorboards don’t creak. And he’s a heavy sleeper. I wake up if the cats make too much noise going downstairs.
Over the months, he noticed food disappearing from his house. But this wasn’t enough to do a thorough search of his house? Did he just shrug, and say, oh well, some food disappeared. How long did he wait? I’d be going nuts if food suddenly went missing (especially Pringles). I’d assume the cats had gotten into something and had learned how to open the fridge. They are diabolical.
Also, the first time she went in because the door was unlocked, but what about all the other times. Did the guy never lock his front door? Even after the food started disappearing? If he didn’t, he deserves to have a homeless woman living in his closet.
The guy is dumb. And he lives in Japan, home of Takashi Miike. Did he not realize the danger he was in. Freakish mutilation could have occurred, or at the very least, crazed schoolgirls might’ve chased him and loved him up. Hmmmm.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Monday, June 02, 2008
Today in shocking, scandalous chip news
Back on May 5th (you can look it up) I wrote the following: "At the risk of stating the obvious, my urn should be Pringles can. Sour Cream 'n' Onion, if available. Cheez'ums also acceptable in a pinch."
Today, via a loyal reader (you could all fit in one giant Pringles can, probably) comes this alarming news:
"Dr. Fredric J. Baur was so proud of having designed the container for Pringles potato crisps that he asked his family to bury him in one.
His children honored his request. Part of his remains was buried in a Pringles can - along with a regular urn containing the rest - in his grave at Arlington Memorial Gardens in Springfield Township." (Cincinnati.com)
Baur, that freakin' little so-and-so. How dare he steal my idea? Just 'cause he invented it? That's his reason? Harumph. Double harumph.
I'll wager he probably requested the traditional red can, and I'm still leaning toward the green SC and O, so I hope I still have that going for me. gawd. Is nothing sacred?
Today, via a loyal reader (you could all fit in one giant Pringles can, probably) comes this alarming news:
"Dr. Fredric J. Baur was so proud of having designed the container for Pringles potato crisps that he asked his family to bury him in one.
His children honored his request. Part of his remains was buried in a Pringles can - along with a regular urn containing the rest - in his grave at Arlington Memorial Gardens in Springfield Township." (Cincinnati.com)
Baur, that freakin' little so-and-so. How dare he steal my idea? Just 'cause he invented it? That's his reason? Harumph. Double harumph.
I'll wager he probably requested the traditional red can, and I'm still leaning toward the green SC and O, so I hope I still have that going for me. gawd. Is nothing sacred?
Today in Politics
Apparently in the Commons today the Opposition will be demanding an official inquiry into Julie, her boobs and her other boob.
I'm so relieved.
Even though it's been more than a week, I'm still enjoying this story. And I was worried it would start to fade away, that the media's interest might sag, so to speak. But no. This story has legs. Legs about boobs. So there ya go.
And if Stockwell Day is defending the government on this, well, even better. That's even more boob for our buck.
Isn't it about time Max the Moob surfaced? He can't stay in hiding forever.
I'm so relieved.
Even though it's been more than a week, I'm still enjoying this story. And I was worried it would start to fade away, that the media's interest might sag, so to speak. But no. This story has legs. Legs about boobs. So there ya go.
And if Stockwell Day is defending the government on this, well, even better. That's even more boob for our buck.
Isn't it about time Max the Moob surfaced? He can't stay in hiding forever.
Celeb Death Overload
What do Harvey Korman, Yves St. Laurent and Bo Diddley have in common?
They're all dead.
Don't look for a joke. There isn't any. I'm just keeping up to date on the news.
They're all dead.
Don't look for a joke. There isn't any. I'm just keeping up to date on the news.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Benefits of Blogging
I'm doing a NY Times Crossword right now.
Clue for 9 Down: Natl. Poetry Mo.
Answer: (we all know it!) Apr.
Clue for 9 Down: Natl. Poetry Mo.
Answer: (we all know it!) Apr.
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