Suburban Hypocrite

2011 in Photographs Part Two (In which I spy signs of spring, marvel at minor miracles and do my part for world domination)

2012-01-19T17:54:00.000-05:00

We're now so far into 2012 that this is bordering on the ridiculous, but nevertheless, I bring you 2011 in Photographs --- Part the Second!

April, 2011:

I'm currently huddled beneath my butter-yellow flannel sheets with both my space heater and my humidifier going full blast, so you can probably see why this photo is so appealing right now. I love every season in its turn, but with every passing year winter's turn seems a little longer and less tolerable. By the beginning of March I can't step outside without feeling a little lift in my heart, right before my hopes are dashed when the winter air freezes my nose hairs off. I'd get discouraged, but I know that sooner or later I'll be rewarded with a warm, earthy, wet whiff of Spring! I've got a phone full of photos capturing my early Springtime discoveries, but I think this one is my favourite. The light is so bright and hopeful and buttery ---- just like the flannel sheets I'm hibernating in. Sigh.

May, 2011:

This month's photo just squeaked in under the wire for May. May I present to you, 5 of the 10 toes of the erstwhile Squidgy, Mr. Gavin Gaunt! You might remember him from the bump he made in February's photo entry. Gavin is the progeny of two of my closest friends: Momma Julia, who tirelessly dealt with my many questions and forgave me for consistently greeting her bump first whenever we got together; and Papa Robin, who has endured our endless oogling and googling with good grace and turned into one hell of a daddy (and one-handed video game player!). Many of my dear friends and family have already had beautiful, sweet babies that I love with all of my heart, but having spent SO much time with Gavin prenatally made the whole process wonderfully and terrifyingly real to me for the first time. This little foot kicked me before it had even met me, and now it kicks me when I'm trying to stuff him into his jammies after his bath. WHA--?!

June, 2011:

Speaking of the Gaunt-Rannalas (I have other friends, I swear!), one of my most favoritest yearly traditions is two-four weekend at the Rannala cottage. We eat, we drink, we collect shells and skip rocks and build roaring 2-storey bonfires. We listen to music, we make music, we draw and laugh and dash out of the steamy sauna to plunge breathless and laughing into the icy chill of the lake. It's glorious.

Amusingly, little Gavin chose to make his entrance on -- you guessed it! -- May 24th EXACTLY, which meant a slight postponement of the trip to the end of June. That's the great thing about this tradition, though --- the date might change, the cast of characters might change, but every year we carve out some time to come together, relax, and try to forget about the outside world. Or, in the case of our nerdiest participants, try to dominate the outside world with plastic soldiers and a keg of Golden Horseshoe!

In keeping with my new stick-to-it spirit, stay tuned for Part Three!: In which I wait for Godot, become a crystalline entity and dwell in the land of giants!

2011 in Photographs Part One (In which I evade dangerous predators, bend spinach pasta to my will and learn to fear my mother)

2012-01-04T18:08:00.000-05:00

Inspired (as always!) by the lovely Elsie from A Beautiful Mess, I've decided to share a photo from my iPhone for every month of the last year.

You won't find much to admire in the composition or the lighting, and I'm afraid my stylist is on hiatus. They're not what one might call great art, but I've carried these photos with me through a bumpy, transitional, eye-opening year -- and I think there's something sort of lovely in that thought.

January, 2011:

I remember standing in front of my bathroom window with a mouthful of toothpaste (I like to walk around when I brush my teeth) when a speck of red in the bare trees outside caught my eye. After a fair amount of squinting and spitting (toothpaste burns when you leave it in your mouth too long), my eyes made out the hawk and figured out that the red spot was the inside of his lunch. I'm no vegetarian, but as the life partner of a small furry creature, I was a little disturbed -- ESPECIALLY since I've let said small furry creature run around unattended on my deck, which is right across from this hawk's picnic spot! The thought that his sweet, warm, affectionate little life could have been literally snatched away in an instant --- well, lesson learned. When he goes adventuring these days, it's under my very watchful eyes.

February, 2011:

Radiant momma-to-be Julia and her bellyful of Squidgy (who has since been born and given a respectable name) shows off the spinach pasta we made from scratch. Her husband Robin is a from-scratch kind of guy with incredible patience and a seemingly endless tolerance for hunger. I've always been an instant gratification type when it comes to my dinner. It took FOREVER to make this pasta and then transform it into a mushroom lasagna, but when the first fresh, delicious bite hit my tongue I understood. You can take all the shortcuts you like and things will be just fine -- you probably won't even know what you're missing. But if you want something truly delicious, you've got to relish each and every step along the way.

March, 2011:

Once upon a time, my mom Suzy, her little sister Lise and I took a trip to a Medieval Times Castle far, far away (yes, when you live on the east side, the Exhibition grounds qualify as far, far away). You can see that we got into the spirit of things -- and the SPIRITS of things, if you catch my drift. Anyway, we had a great time at the show (of course, I'm always happy when I get to eat with my hands and yell at people). As you can imagine, leaving the place was a bit like being in the middle of a cattle stampede if the cattle were greased up, slightly tipsy and waving pointed sticks. These drunk frat guys behind us were getting increasingly obnoxious and inappropriate, "accidentally" bumping into my tiny aunt and making stupid jokes. She shot them a few dirty looks and told them to get lost, to no avail. Unfortunately for them, they didn't know whose sister they were messing with.

As long as I live, I'll never forget the sight of my mother whipping furiously around, drawn up to her full 5 feet and 3 inches in righteous indignation. The force of her glare seemed to stop them in their tracks as she spat "Back the fuck off!" They muttered apologies as they gathered the limp shreds of their dignity, and then, as ordered, backed the fuck off. I've never been so proud to be her offspring.

It's hard to reconcile the sweetly-smiling Suzy in this picture with the fierce mother hen pecking the eyes out of a bunch of obnoxious cocks from two hours later, but I swear they're one and the same. People often underestimate her, but as you can see -- they do it at their own risk.

This roller coaster ride of self-indulgence and bad photography will continue tomorrow, or tomorrow-ish, in Part Two (In which I spy signs of spring, marvel at minor miracles and do my part for world domination).

Until then...

Wikiflections: Gol Tappeh that ass!

2012-01-03T23:21:00.000-05:00

For lack of any other inspiration, I'm starting a new feature here at Suburban Hypocrite: Wikiflections, in which I hit the "random article" button on Wikipedia and react accordingly. It might be a proper blog entry, it might be a pile of gibberish --- either way, it's making me write.

So, today's article:

"Gol Tappeh (Persian: گل تپه, also Romanized as Kūl Tepe)^[1] is a city in and capital of Gol Tappeh District, in Kabudarahang County, Hamadan Province, Iran. At the 2006 census, its population was 1,876, in 469 families.^[2]"

^{Hmm. Well, off the top of my head, that is one SMALL town. It makes me wonder if Iranians have small town stereotypes like we do, and if so, what might they be? I'd love to hazard a few guesses, but I feel like that would get offensive faster than the restroom room at a chili-eating contest.}

^Oops.

^Uhhh...

^{Let's try that again. OK, Gol Tappeh. Iran.}

^I.

^Ran.


And Iran, Iran so far away-ay-ay.... Which leads me inevitably to:


"I love geography day! I got Italy!" "I got Russia!" "I got Iraq." Get it? Like this:

Well, that was.... interesting. I'll try it again in a few days, and I apologize in advance if it just degenerates into a bunch of stupid puns and Charlie Brown references again.

Looka what I made!: Homemade gummies (and Cajun Spice Mix -- oh my!)

2012-01-02T13:27:00.002-05:00

In the interest of showing kindness not only to my loved ones but also my bank account this holiday season, I decided to roll up my sleeves and craft at least part of my gifts to my nearest and dearest. As you might imagine, it was easy to come up with make-able presents for the lady-types in my life, but the man-types took a bit more thought. Particularly my brother Steve. I floundered around before I hit upon something good --- instead of buying him his traditional bag of gummy bears, I decided to MAKE some instead! They turned out so great that I thought I'd share the process. Also, my parents' kitchen is so sparkling clean and sunny that it was screaming to have a tutorial photographed in it.

Without further ado, my homemade gummy recipe!

If you've ever made regular Jell-O, you can handle this. Especially if you've ever made regular Jell-O incorrectly!

First off, our ingredients:

Hey look, you can see my iPhone's reflection!

A small pot, a measuring cup, some unflavoured gelatin and some FLAVOURED gelatin. Oh, and a mold of some kind. I went out and invested in some of those plastic candy molds (you can find them in Bulk Barn, Michael's, baking supply stores, etc). If you're an Advent Calendar enthusiast, you can also save the plastic backing for festive gummy-making next year.

To start, pour the gelatin mixture into the pot.

I did not intentionally coordinate my nail colour with the Jell-O, I swear!

Next you'll want to add the unflavoured gelatin. How much is really dependent upon your own taste. I made a few batches before I found the consistency I liked -- just over 1/4 cup of the plain stuff per package of Jell-O. My dad was less discerning and happily ate every last bite of the testers.

Add a half cup of water and put it on the stove to boil. It's gonna look like a gross lumpy mess, but never fear -- the magic of chemistry will take care of that post haste. Stir often to avoid an unpleasant chewy skin on the bottom of your pot!

Gloop gloopity glop.

Once all of the crystals have dissolved and you've got a nice hot pot of sweet shiny goodness, you'll want to put that goodness into some sort of heat-proof container that will allow you to pour with reasonable accuracy into the molds -- I used a glass measuring cup with a little pour spout. I found that pouring the mixture into this resulted in some foam at the top which would make for cloudy, less pretty gummies, so I skimmed that off with a spoon before pouring into the molds*. I let it sit for a minute or two to thicken up.

All attempts to take pictures of this stage of production resulted in sticky, delicious disaster, so you'll have to use your imaginations. I recommend pouring s-l-o-w-l-y until the mixture is bubbled out JUST above the level of the mold (the thickness of the mixture will allow for this).

Your index finger will take care of any stray sweetness...

I'm an impatient sumbitch, so I stuck the molds in the freezer to speed up the hardening process. T-minus ten minutes to Gummytown!

Once you've got them out of the freezer (or fridge if patience is one of your virtues), it's time to peel them out of there. Don't be shy! These little suckers will stand up to a lot of pushing and pulling, so dig right in there!

Almost.... in... my... belly...

I laid them all out on a plate to "dry", since they're a bit sticky when they first come out of the mold. You could probably also use corn starch to de-sticky-fy them, but I didn't feel the need.

The purple ones are grape, and the red ones are cherry, raspberry and strawberry.

And that, my friends, is that. Pretty simple, huh? I don't have any pictures of my brother opening them on Christmas morning due to my commitment to not annoying the crap out of him over the holidays, but since he ate most of the box on Christmas morning, I'm going to consider this recipe a success!

For those who might be curious, my other homemade gifts were as follows: crocheted slouchy berets from baby Alpaca wool for mom and my sis-in-law, small plaques reading "Home" for my aunties from this tutorial I found on A Beautiful Mess, and a big batch of Cajun Spice Mix in magnetic jars for the aunties, my Dames and my dad.

AIEEEE, cher!

Cajun Seasoning Mix

3 tablespoons smoked paprika
2 tablespoons salt
2 tablespoons garlic powder
1 tablespoon black pepper
1 tablespoon onion powder
1 tablespoon cayenne powder
1 tablespoon oregano
1 tablespoon thyme

It goes great in pretty much anything. I think I'm going to try it out on sweet potato fries next...

*After writing this paragraph, the word "pour" lost all meaning to me. Does that ever happen to anyone else?

That's a wrap! Wah-WAH.

2011-12-31T15:48:00.001-05:00

I'm back in Toronto after two busy, happy weeks in Welland. I'd planned to blog a lot during that time, but my days were just too full of:

Cute kids!

Sweet treat-making! (homemade gummies -- tutorial to follow!)

Furry friends!

Furry friends in cookie form! (My grandma's the best - check out that coconut fur!)

Boys versus girls family hockey tournaments!

Tacky gifts!

Fancy dinners!

Home renovations!

A drink or three!

Oh god -- so many drinks!

And lots and lots of love. Awwww!

It was a hell of a good holiday. But as fun as it was, I'm glad it's over -- I've got an excited, creepy-crawly feeling that 2012 is going to surprise and delight me like no other year before it! In the last month of 2011, I've been eating better and it looks like I've figured out my respiratory issues, so now it's time to take care of the rest of my life. Prepare to be dazzled as I finally get to work on my novel, clean the clutter out of my home, my mind and my body, and, like my namesake Velma Kelly, live the life I like!

Happy New Year, everyone! I love each and every one of you and I can't wait to see where this year takes you!

There's zucchini in my spaghetti!

2011-12-05T18:18:00.000-05:00

I luuuuuurve to eat. And not just eat, but eat LOTS. I also love to feel healthy. As I'm sure you can imagine, these two loves are often hard to reconcile. But now that I'm working from home and have lots more time to cook, I'm actively trying to find ways to make my meals healthier without shrinking them.

The obvious solution is to cram more vegetables into every meal. They're low-cal and low fat, filling and full of vitamins and fibre and blah blah blah. My veggie-cooking skills are extremely basic though--- it's mostly steaming and adding salt and butter or stir-frying in a sauce. I need some new ideas so that I'll actively crave veggies and thus feel satisfied not just from a health perspective, but from a deliciousness perspective.

Soooo, idea the first: zucchini spaghetti!

I eat tons and tons of pasta, and I need a good pile of it to be satisfied. I'd read all over the Internet about people substituting zucchini for pasta --- "My kids just love it!", "I don't even notice the difference!" and all that crap. I'm not enough of a sucker to fall for that, but I figured it was worth a shot. So today, I made a smaller-than-my-average amount of Catelli Smart Pasta spaghetti, sliced up some spaghetti-sized pieces of zucchini (about half a small zucchini) and threw it into the boiling water about a minute before the pasta was ready to go. I poured about 3/4 cup of tomato sauce and some sauteed mushrooms on top, and voila!

Diagnosis? Delicious! I mean, boiled zucchini isn't fooling anyone into thinking it's pasta, but as a means of cutting down on my pasta intake it was awesome! It tasted great with a little pasta sauce on it, and I feel nice and full right now. Also, 2 servings of veggies in the sauce plus another 2-ish from the zucchini and mushrooms --- not bad for one meal!

How do YOU sneak veggies into your comfort foods?

Poorly-photographed food porn and a Cheerio thief...

2011-12-03T16:19:00.000-05:00

It's been a Massey kind of weekend thus far, as is generally true of weekends in December. Thursday night I worked the post-show party for Feist, from which her (evil) pal Emily Haines was blessedly absent. A post-work beer was enjoyed, as is generally true of any Massey-related event. I spent most of Friday in my bed, and then pulled myself together in time for top secret Massey Christmas party-related preparations with Shoe and K80. Expect an update post-party! Now it's Saturday. We're expecting the show tonight to be dull-ish, so I thought I'd sweeten the deal with some baked goods for my pals!

Butter and sugar making sweet delicious love in my mixing bowl. NSFW!

It's beginning to look a lot like cookies!

Buying your coworkers' love only takes 350 degrees and about 14 minutes!

I guess I can spare a little love for me.

The recipe's from Can You Stay For Dinner? , a blog I found when I Googled "very very chewy chocolate chip cookie recipe". The cookies aren't quite as chewy as I'd hoped, but my definition of chewy is quite different from most peoples', and they ARE very delicious! BTW, check out the links down the left side of her blog --- there are some beautifully-written posts on her journey to lose 135 pounds. Her attitude toward her pre- and post- weight loss body is really inspiring and incredibly healthy, I think. I could learn a few lessons from her myself!

I'm off to work now, so I'll leave you with a picture of a bunny in a Cheerios box. True story!

Om nom nom. No I will NOT share!

I really need to find the charger for my proper camera. The iPhone takes pretty nice photos for a phone, but still...

"Working" from home...

2011-11-30T22:54:00.002-05:00

I'm on Week 3 of this new "work from home" plan, and it's been an ..... interesting journey thus far.

For those who don't know me in real life, I'm following in my mother's footsteps (sigh) and working as a medical transcriptionist to pay the bills while I try to get a writing career off the ground. In the interest of being positive, I'll start with the pros of this plan:

I live in my pyjamas. I both go to and get out of bed whenever it is convenient for me. I can always make time to work at Massey/go for walks/write/engage in shenanigans. I can make as much or as little money as I like. It's an ideal scenario for this shiftless dreamer who yearns to pursue her muse and write the great Canadian YA novel/tween animated series. Yessir, livin' the dream...

And now, in the interest of being realistic, the cons:

Pretty much that.

I've got all the time in the world now, and yet I can't seem to do anything of value with it. I get up (eventually) with the best of intentions, but time just seems to slip between my fingers. Like sand through the hourglass, so are the days of my life.

It has to stop. SRSLY.

Here's my plan:

1. Surround myself with inspiration --- form that writer's group, read and beg advice from prolific bloggers, display evidence of my achievements around the treehouse...

2. Set down a loose schedule for myself including quotas --- an hour per day on the novel with a new chapter required once per month, a certain number of transcribed lines per week...

3. Limit the TV watching--- I've already cut down on this like crazy, but it would probably be helpful to set a daily limit and plan my TV consumption accordingly.

4. Learn from the pros! How do you keep yourself motivated to pursue your creative goals?

(P.S. Having some new followers and a few comments would really help get my butt in gear...)

I can SEE the stars...

2011-11-25T12:01:00.000-05:00

Image courtesy of Alisa Paints -- I have this in my room!

This is how I feel when I think about writing.

Crack that whip!

2011-11-22T15:16:00.000-05:00

I turned down a great job yesterday.

It wasn't a life-changing dream job or anything, but it was a full-time, good pay and benefits, working with awesome people at a great company kind of job. Why, you ask?

I'm still wondering that myself.

I went back and forth over it all weekend, weighing pros and cons, asking the advice of friends and contemporaries, blah blah blah. But in the end, it came down to this: It's not what I want to do. I went back to school because I was tired of taking jobs I don't care about just to pay the bills while going nowhere in the career path I DID care about. Did I spend all that money and time only to take ANOTHER job I don't really want? No sir. I've got the at-home medical transcription thing going for me now, which is flexible and pays reasonably well and leaves lots of time to work on my writing, which is what I really want to do.

Problem is, I don't really write very much. I'm deadline-oriented -- I did lots of writing in school because I had people waiting on it. Now that I'm out of school I have very little motivation to get anything done.

This is where YOU come in, oh handful of readers!

I need encouragement. I need angry demands for more blog posts and samples of the work I'm doing on my novel. Please, I'm begging you!

Follow this blog!

Comment on this blog!

Follow me on Twitter!

Harass me in public if you're one of my real-life pals!

Force me to treat this like a real job so I don't have to go out and GET one!!

2011-07-05T14:39:00.000-04:00

I'm lazy.

It's time I admitted it. I hide behind my bubbly, camping fanatic, walk-everywhere facade, but really, I'm a lazy lazy bastard. I have dozens of art pieces yet to be completed, hundreds of stories yet to be written, and millions and millions of ideas hanging around gathering dust. I purport to be an aspiring writer, but how often do I actually write? If this blog is any indication, NOT.OFTEN. It's stupid, because for the past year I've been working with some successful writers, and every one of them has praised the work I've managed to finish and encouraged me to pursue the craft. I WANT to pursue it, I really do. I get inspired by classes and blogs and the excellent work of others, but when I've got the time to work, on goes the TV and down goes my butt. Buh-bye inspiration, hello LAZY.

What's my problem? Oh, what a question! Where to start?

1. I'm a perfectionist. Well, a slacker perfectionist. If something isn't coming out exactly how I want it to, I throw it figuratively against the wall and turn on the TV. Which brings me to problem # 2...

2. Watching TV is easier than creating something. If my idea doesn't hit the page fully-formed, there's always an episode of Futurama or Criminal Minds to make me feel better. Moving on to problem #3...

3. I'm easily distracted -- SQUIRREL!

4. I care way too much about what other people think. I let myself get discouraged when my vision isn't immediately embraced by others.

Hell, as I'm writing this blog entry about my lack of motivation, I'm feeling my motivation to finish it seeping out of me with every poorly-constructed sentence!

I know what I need to do. First, I need to make myself accountable. I need to either join a writer's group or enlist a tough-bitch friend to yell at me if I'm not producing work on a regular basis. Second.... I hate to say it, but I think I need the TV out of my room. It's too easy. Maybe I can set up a little TV area in the landing outside so I've still got access. Or maybe I can set up a nice writing area out there. Either way, something's gotta give.

Whaddaya think?

I are playeeng wit bunniez!

2011-04-10T10:56:00.000-04:00

I volunteer in the Special Species department at the Toronto Humane Society. My unofficial title is "Bunny Cuddler." I know, best job ever. It's always a lot of fun, but last week the THS brought it to a whole other level when they brought in a mama bunny and her 7 babies! At least I think there are 7 --- they don't really sit still long enough to count 'em!

Om nom nom.

Aye iz de teeny one.

Askyooz me. I iz trying to poop.

Nobody knowz de trubble I seed.

Mah fayce iz durty.

We sleepz in uh pie-uhl!

Luv!

Can someone please remind me why I shouldn't adopt over a half-dozen bunnies?

Bunny-related musings.

2011-03-28T23:11:00.001-04:00

Rory is endlessly curious. His senses are always on high alert --- just a breeze blowing in through the open patio door is enough to fascinate him for like ten minutes!

Watching him tonight got me thinking about The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley (read it!). He read an article by a guy studying the effects of mescaline, and wrote him a letter offering himself as a subject. The guy agreed, Huxley took the drug and wrote a book about the experience. He had many profound realizations that day (seriously, read the book!), but here's the one that stuck with me most. I'll paraphrase. He said that every human being is capable of remembering everything that ever happened to him and perceiving everything that is happening in the universe. Our brains and nervous systems and senses serve the function of sorting through all that knowledge and filtering it out, preserving only that knowledge which seems immediately useful. The survival instinct, in other words. BUT when mind-altering drugs hit the scene, suddenly those filters get leaky and all sorts of biologically useless but FASCINATING things start to flow through. The thousands of years we've spent trying to survive are wiped away and we're able to follow all the aimless and beautiful trains of thought that our bodies want to dismiss!

Watching Rory sniff at newly fallen snow or listen to the hum of a distant airplane makes me think that maybe rabbits live like that all the time, albeit in a much simpler way. He's a prey animal --- everything in the world is perceived as a possible threat. Everything that his powerful bunny senses take in is deemed important to his survival, and so in his way he is always experiencing what Huxley called the "Mind At Large" --- an unfettered flow of everything that is. I'm a little envious. It might not be practical to eliminate your survival instinct --- or develop a mescaline habit! --- but still, how beautiful to live your life experiencing everything the universe has to offer!

Breathe in, breathe out.

2011-03-26T17:52:00.000-04:00

I think maybe I forget to breathe sometimes.

When I was a kid, I loved to read. We'd take long car trips, but every time I tried to read in the car I got really nauseous. I felt fine if I was just sitting and listening to music or something, but if I picked up a book or even read too many street signs I was ready to barf in about 2 minutes. My mom noticed that it seemed like I was barely breathing, and figured maybe that was the source of my problem. According to my extensive Googling, deep breathing does help to alleviate motion sickness. That's all well and good, but why was I changing the way I was breathing in the first place? Isn't it supposed to be a reflex?

As I've aged (gracefully, if I may say so myself), I've noticed that I have more trouble concentrating. I'm wondering if that's another effect of my lazy breathing reflex. In the next few weeks I'm going to experiment a little --- try to read in a car while doing deep breathing exercises, meditate, that sort of thing. If you want to help, remind me to breathe when you see me, OK?

P.S. A blonde went to the hairdresser one day, and she refused to take off her headphones. The hairdresser was having a hard time working on her and begged the blonde to take them off. The blonde insisted that she needed to have them on all the time and told the hairdresser to work around them. The hairdresser tried, but got more and more frustrated until she finally ripped them off. The blonde screamed "NO!" and promptly passed out. When the hairdresser couldn't revive her, she thought "What on Earth was she listening to?" She put on the headphones and heard "Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out."

WAH-WAH!

Verbal calisthenics!

2011-02-20T17:40:00.000-05:00

The other day my writing teacher said something to me that I thought was really insightful. She said "Most people don't actually want to BE writers. They just want to have written." That's very apt in my case. I have a lot of trouble getting started when it comes to writing, even though I know I enjoy the process once I get going. I'd like to start doing some writing exercises on here, and just MAKE myself sit down and write. I think the more I do it, the easier it will be to get my ass in gear. Sooooo, here's an exercise we did the other day that I found really valuable.

You start with a short, plain sentence. For example:

"John walked."

In a couple of sentences, you need to let your audience know who John is, why he's walking... as many details as possible to create a clear picture in your audience's head.

" 'You can do it, John!', the nurse encouraged. She held her breath as he gripped the arms of his wheelchair and lifted himself slowly, painfully out of it. The orderlies rushed to his side but he waved them away, reaching out for the railing at his side. The muscles in his arms clenched and shook, beads of sweat peppered his forehead. He gritted his teeth, sucked in a loud breath --- and took his first step in five years."

See what I mean? It's a really interesting exercise, and you can use the same sentence in so many ways. I like that it really forces you to find creative ways of slipping information seamlessly into your story. I hope you didn't mind reading that, because I hope to keep doing it in here.

OK, Criminal Minds is calling me!

2011-02-03T15:16:00.000-05:00

2011-01-28T10:46:00.000-05:00

Cultivating the garden of AWESOME

2011-01-26T09:24:00.000-05:00

The more time I spend learning about grant applications and tax credits and such, the more excited I get about things like this:

TheStar Awesome Foundation offers cash for crazy ideas

I understand the necessity of all those mountains of paperwork. Organizations have to protect their interests and make sure the money is going to someone who's going to do something great with it. Trouble is, a lot of the greatest things don't sound like the best investments on paper. You lose sight of the excitement of the idea, the passion and drive that make exciting things happen! Kudos to The Awesome Foundation for cutting through the bullsh*t and encouraging the fine art of being

(Cartoon courtesy of Natalie Dee -- unbeknownst to her)

Unpleasant Trends, part the First.

2011-01-24T15:15:00.001-05:00

Picture it: Monday morning, public bathroom at school. I'm in there minding my own "business", if you'll pardon the expression. In the next stall I can hear one side of a conversation, but it soon becomes apparent that the other side of the conversation is participating by phone. Am I the ONLY person weirded out by the idea of someone using their phone in a public bathroom? I can understand doing it at home when you're talking to your mom or something, but seriously, a public bathroom? I mean, I understand that, it being a public bathroom and all, strangers are probably going to hear me peeing. I accept that. But there's something about my private business being shot up to a satellite and back into someone else's phone that I just am not cool with. Also, this is a public bathroom at a school, not some fast-paced executive washroom. Is whatever you're chatting to your bff about really so important that you couldn't call her AFTER you've left the can? C'mon! And this is NOT an isolated incident... it's happened to me three times in less than a week! At the risk of sounding my age... what is UP with kids these days? Have they no sense of modesty or shame? Is my theory true? Have today's youth become so seamlessly integrated with their cell phones that they literally cannot "function" without using them? Or should I just give in and accept that NOTHING is private nowadays, not even bathroom noises?

All study and no play make Kelly something something.

2010-11-09T19:45:00.002-05:00

Grocer thwarts thief on eve of verdict - thestar.com

2010-10-29T09:31:00.001-04:00

Grocer thwarts thief on eve of verdict - thestar.com

It makes me sick that the rights of thieves are often elevated above the rights of hardworking, honest people like Chen. Granted, he probably shouldn't have tied the man up, but considering the police take an average of 5 hours to respond to his calls for help, I can understand why he did it. If the law doesn't provide protection for a business, they shouldn't be expected to stand idly by and watch as lazy immoral jerks take advantage of their hard work and our lackadaisical police force. Petty thievery in that neighbourhood is RAMPANT. I've witnessed it myself! I saw a bunch of stereotypical thugs put on sunglasses from a sidewalk display and then saunter off. There was only one woman working, and she called after them to put the sunglasses back, but the assholes just said "These are ours, what are you talking about?" and strolled casually away, laughing as she stared after them helplessly. What could she do? What could anyone do? I would have dearly loved to help her out, but there were four of them, and I'm not exactly a bad-ass. I can only hope that karma has taken care of them, preferably by way of some kind of terribly painful STD.

Etsy again!

2010-09-29T09:38:00.000-04:00

I've decided that I need to get back on track with my Etsy shop again. Here's my latest listing:

Visit my shop at http://suburbanhypocrite.etsy.com/!

I puzzled and puzzed, till my puzzler was sore.

2010-09-27T22:11:00.001-04:00

I worked really hard on this piece of homework and I thought I'd share it with you. Sharing my writing with people is a bit of a scary proposition for me, but this is a pretty safe environment so what the hell?

We were asked to reflect on our first memorable experience with children's entertainment.

When I was a child, I thought the Grinch lived in our storage room. Every time
my mom sent me down there for something, I went through a painstakingly
thought out Grinch-avoidance ritual: deep breaths to start, hand on the doorknob
and then creeeak-SLAM! as I threw the door into the wall and jumped back as
far as my legs would send me. Next I crept forward, peering as far into the dark
corners as I could manage without actually entering the room. Finally, heart
pounding in my chest, I would dash to the inconveniently located light switch in
the middle of the room, flip it on and spin wildly in a circle, my eyes peeled for a
flash of green fur or, God forbid, that wonderful, AWFUL smile.

It was the smile that did it. In the book illustration it's just a quietly devilish smirk,
but in the cartoon version --- shudder. Even as an adult, it still sends delicious
shivers down my spine every time I see it. I'll never forget that shot of the
Grinch's face, blinking innocently at first, and then that s-l-o-o-o-wly unfurling
smile of sheer malevolent delight as he realizes he's finally found the perfect plan to keep Christmas from coming. In the eyes of a 5-year-old, how much
scarier can you get?

That's not to say that I spent every Christmas season dreading CBC's annual
airing of How The Grinch Stole Christmas!. Far from it! In fact, Christmas special
night always meant warm peanut butter cookies with a melty Hershey Kiss
smooshed on top, snuggling on the couch and a ban on homework. Who
wouldn't look forward to a night like that? There may have been an undercurrent
of anxiety beneath my excitement, but it was tempered by the circumstances
under which I experienced it. I think that's the key --- if you experience something
scary in the right situation and when you're ready for it, it becomes a positive
experience. If it's the right level of scary at the right time, kids do love to be
scared. I don't think anyone can tell us why with absolute certainty, but I think it
has to do with the bravery required to sit there and watch something that scares
you. Few things are more important to a child than proving that they're NOT a
child, that they can handle "grown-up" things like watching a scary movie.

That's not the only lesson I learned about courage from How The Grinch Stole
Christmas!. The Grinch himself is actually a pretty brave guy. He has a problem
with the Whos, so he goes down to Who-Ville (outnumbered Who-hundred to
one, plus a dog) and he deals with it. Argue as much as you want to against his
motives, it takes courage to put thought into action and deal with your problems.
And of course, once he's realized the error of his ways, he immediately returns to
Who-ville to return all of their presents. That's an incredibly brave act --- how
many of us have faltered under the weight of a wrong committed that we know
we need to right?

How The Grinch Stole Christmas! left its mark on me as a person, and in a way
I've left my mark on it --- at least on my copy of the book. I've been an avid
reader since I first learned to string letters together into words, and my copy of
How The Grinch Stole Christmas! now bears the scars of a book loved not wisely
but too well. The hard cover is worn, the spine held together with green masking
tape and the corners mended with Scotch tape. A faded red stamp on the first page
reads "DISCARD", a smaller "Port Colborne Public Library" stamp
indicating where it was discarded from. There's writing all over it, most notably on
the back cover where my little brother recorded the date and time of a long-ago
wrestling match in "Tronto".

I love the story enough that buying a new copy would be a worthwhile
investment, but I just can't bear to part with my old, scarred friend. Each one of
those imperfections seems like a badge of honour to me now, reminding me of
how my relationship with this story shaped the person I am today. If you look
closely at the writing on some of the pages, you'll see the places where I made
very faint pencil notes when I was memorizing the story for a speech competition
in high school. I won, and went on to become an actress. The spine and corners
may be all taped up, but some meticulous librarian took the time to do it neatly
and to write the title and author in a cartoony hand. Where would Kelly the avid
reader be without the librarians of her childhood, who told her stories in funny
voices and let her read The Hobbit at seven years old even though it was on the
forbidden "Big Kid Shelf"? Even my brother's childish scrawl on the cover takes
me back to those long-ago December evenings when I learned that scary things
aren't so bad when you've got people you love to bake you cookies and hold
your hand.

Cadbury* Dairy Milk* Fair Trade Contest | Trade Details

2010-09-21T16:40:00.000-04:00

Help me win a trip to Africa! This contest asks you to offer a trade for a trip, and viewers can vote on whether or not they think it's a fair trade. The description on the official site only allows so many words, so here's the rest of the details... I'm offering to create a blog full of inspiring ideas about how to cr...eate change in the lives of the less fortunate. I'd like to encourage people to, for example, quit smoking and donate the money they save to an organization that helps others fight addiction. I would also highlight companies like Tom's Shoes, which donates a pair of shoes to someone in need for every pair purchased. The idea is to get people to sacrifice things that are uneccessary in the pursuit of equality for all. How's that for a fair trade?

Please take a moment and vote... you can consider that moment YOUR sacrifice for the day! :)

Cadbury* Dairy Milk* Fair Trade Contest Trade Details

Some of my kids from my time volunteering at Wat Don Chan outside Chiang Mai, Thailand.

2010-09-12T08:39:00.000-04:00

Soooo I've started school. And it's awesome. Seriously. Not the "awesome" being tweeted ad nauseum by the 17-year-old first-timers, but a genuine grown-up awesome that makes me very excited for the future. Everyone in my class has at least graduated from an undergrad program and many have years of work experience behind them. The faculty are all working professionals in a field I find fascinating. Thus far all the classroom discussions have been interesting and challenging, and everything we do can be directly linked to the workplace. It's all very exciting!

In other news, someone on Post Secret has read my mind and revealed my secret in postcard form:

Get out of my head!!!

Theez arnt teh bunnehs yr lookin fowr.

2010-09-02T09:31:00.000-04:00

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Not-quite-100 things I like!

2010-09-01T13:14:00.000-04:00

I meant to post this months ago when so pauvre first blogged on the subject. Behold! 99 things I like, in the order in which I thought of them (not necessarily prioritized, and definitely not definitive!):

The parental units.
My brother and hopefully-soon-to-be-sister-in-law.
Rorschach the fur-face.
The Massey crew and assorted hangers-on.
The Dame dames, sig-o’s and little ones.
Former roomies L’il Princess and Surly Teen.
Date nights with the Gaunt-Rannalas.
Hanging out on my deck.
Climbing trees.
Reading books meant for children.
Mint chocolate chip ice cream.
Maps.
Flying in airplanes.
Flying in my dreams.
Aimlessly wandering in the woods.
Aimlessly wandering the streets on a sunny day.
Aimlessly wandering the interwebs.
Staring at the sky.
Napping in the sunshine.
Cartoons in general.
Stephen Colbert.
Karaoke.
Baking in ovens other than my own.
The 70’s aesthetic.
Classic rock.
Local beer.
Correcting spelling and grammatical errors.
Defiantly making grammatical errors in conversation (but NEVER making spelling errors).
Firefly.
Telling people to watch Firefly.
Having sexy dreams about Nathan Fillion as Mal on Firefly.
Having sexy dreams about Nathan Fillion and Neil Patrick Harris in Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog.
Flip-flops.
Kicking off my flip-flops and feeling the grass/sand/dirt between my toes.
TV theme songs back when they were written specifically for the show.
Crossing items off a to-do list.
Lily-of-the-valley.
Sky blue.
The way my legs look in heels and a knee-length skirt.
Cutting things out of magazines and making other things with them.
Painting.
Watching animals play.
When people are considerate.
Canada’s national sense of humour.
Star Trek: TNG, no matter how dated it looks today.
Tim Burton’s directorial style.
Making perogies with mom.
Coca Cola.
Going to the cottage.
The night sky.
Dreaming.
Etsy.
So Pauvre.
Cooking.
The smell of stuff baking.
Noodles.
Thailand.
Crawling into bed after a long day on the trail.
Playing in the snow.
Moxy Fruvous.
Ben Folds.
Spontaneous road trips.
Spontaneously breaking into song.
Drinking milk (preferably with cookies).
Patrick Stewart.
Captain Picard.
e.e. cummings.
Finding products that are environmentally-friendly and NOT made in a sweatshop.
Wayne’s World.
The X-Files seasons 1-7. And when Mulder and Scully kiss in the finale.
Futurama.
Stealing Bender’s lines for my own.
American Dad.
When Patrick Stewart sings dirty songs on American Dad.
The munchies.
Genuinely funny people.
Muppet mayhem!
Doing something nice for a friend.
The sound of rushing water.
Star-gazing.
Lovers.
Camping.
A beautifully put together piece of theatre/film/television/literature.
Confidence.
Toronto
New York City.
Nerdy board game nights with friends.
Discovering a new show/book series.
Swimmin’.
Laughing about stupid meaningless crap.
Cadbury Crème Eggs.
Speaking in tongues.
Old pictures.
Fresh air.
New beginnings.
Buttons.
Borrowing books.
Smiling.
Swearing.

"Ah demand ma freedom to adorn mahself with marijuana!"

2010-08-18T16:02:00.000-04:00

The phrase "human rights violation" is stretched to its limits in this article.

Really dude? For serious? I mean, he's right in the sense that an amusement park has no right to dictate what he wears. It's none of their damn business what I put on as long as all my naughty bits are covered up to protect the innocence of kiddies and religiosos. But calling this a violation of his human rights and seeking damages as part of the lawsuit is pretty damn ridiculous. What sort of damage was done? He was embarassed? All right. What's the dollar value of embarassment? Come on, dude. Go ahead and sue so that the park has to change their policies. Ask for compensation for your legal counsel, any lost wages due to the case, and the cost of admission and transportation for the day in question. But damages? Puh-lease. The purpose of damages is to restore an injured party to the position the party was in before being harmed. How exactly will money fix this? The position you were in before being "harmed" was jackass dude who needs to advertise his love of pot at an amusement park full of impressionable kids. Well, if he wins this case then he can wear his stupid shirt to the stupid park, and he's in exactly the same position as he was before. Case dismissed!

Of course it's important to exercise our rights, but there are times where it might be prudent to choose not to exercise a particular right. I have the right to walk around with my shirt off, but my workplace expects me to wear clothes. This is not a violation of my rights, but a choice made by my employers to ensure that our clients are comfortable in our work environment.

2010-08-10T13:16:00.000-04:00

Hey kids,

Remember this post? In case you doubted my word on how much of an ass this woman is, here's another story.

One of my coworkers who cycles to the office every day was struck this morning when a car door was opened directly in front of her. She's fine, only bumps and bruises, but she's obviously a bit shaken up. When she limped in, my coworkers naturally asked her what was wrong. She told her story and received the appropriate sympathy and concern from everyone EXCEPT you-know-who. Her response? "It's getting so difficult to drive a car in this city."

Uh...... huh.

Yeah.

Friday (her last day) can NOT come fast enough.

Pictured: Where I imagine she's headed next.

On writing: "Germs-In-Door" Syndrome

2010-08-09T18:53:00.000-04:00

I love to write, but one of my problems is that I don't tend to think linearly. If you could hear my thoughts, it would sound like you're in a train station with lots of people yelling over top of each other and always someone singing an annoying tune that you just know will be stuck in your damn head for days. There are lots of good ideas being bellowed, but while it's possible to have lots of ideas in your head, you can really only write about one of them at a time.


Pictured: What it sometimes feels like when I try to write.

I'm going to have to work on this if I want to get any homework done next year. I think I need to take a page out of my grade school English notebooks and start using drafts and idea webs and things. Maybe if I figure out what it is I'm trying to accomplish with each piece of writing instead of just doing my usual stream-of-consciousness spewing, I'll be able to write things that are coherent.

Unless I hit the sauce first. Then all bets are off.

Whose rights trump whose?

2010-08-06T10:09:00.000-04:00

Service dog banned from buffet line - thestar.com

This is a sticky issue. On the one hand, I believe that if you depend on a service animal then you should be able to take that animal with you wherever you choose. On the other hand, what about those who are allergic to dogs? Does your right to keep your service animal with you trump the right of a person with allergies to have air they can breathe without getting sick? And what about cynophobes (persons with a clinical phobia of dogs)?

Regarding this specific situation, I think this woman was a little too high up on her horse. YES, legally she has the right to take her dog with her wherever she goes, even the buffet table. And of course leaving him unattended would be inappropriate. HOWEVER, this is not a seeing eye dog. She did not need the dog to get her to and from the table. And unless this dog has sprouted opposable thumbs, he's probably not going to be serving her the food. There was no need to bring the dog to the service area with her. I think that she should have taken a moment to consider the needs of others with disabilities different from her own. Her party could have easily gone up to the table in shifts so as not to leave the dog unattended. Folks with allergies are compromising by accepting the presence of an allergen in a public place; a considerate person would return the favour by making this simple compromise that does not affect her ability to get around or to enjoy the restaurant.

I think sometimes people who have had to fight for their rights forget that their victories can push things too far in the opposite direction, putting their opponents in the same position they had fought to get themselves out of. We should all work together to strive for balance.

I've got lots more to say on thsi subject, but I'm interested to know what you people think. Weigh in!!

Responsible citizens: 1, Inconsiderate dumbasses: 0

2010-07-28T10:45:00.000-04:00

Teen texting while cycling is charged with reckless driving

After reading the comments on this article (something I've forbidden myself to do**), I'm amazed by the number of people who don't think this kid should be charged for what he did. He was piloting a vehicle and was not watching the road. Not only is he a danger to others on the road, he's a danger to himself! People tend to be willing to bend the rules when it comes to cyclists because no one seems to think of a bike as a vehicle capable of injuring someone. Well let me tell you, when you're walking down the sidewalk and some stupid jerk is barrelling down on you with his eyes on his cell phone, that vehicle looks pretty damned intimidating! And if you're still not convinced, think about that poor woman who was knocked over on the sidewalk by a careless teen cyclist and died as a result of her injuries.

Yes, laying charges may seem like a harsh punishment, but c'mon... as I mentioned in my post the other day, we live in a society of people who need to be punished in order to cease inappropriate behaviour. Cyclists are not required to pass any sort of test or possess a licence, so how do we know that they know anything about the rules of the road, be they rules of courtesy or actual laws? Most 16-year-old kids are not riding along and thinking to themselves "Is my behaviour endangering those around me?". Hell no. They're thinking "I gotta text my girlfriend for the eight thousandth time today or she'll think I'm mad at her" or some stupid crap like that. The other day I was almost run down by two kids doubling on a creaky old bike, who were swerving madly across the entire road AND sidewalk! I keep digressing with examples, but my point is this: if you are not intelligent or educated enough to behave in a manner that does not endanger the lives of others, then punishment is required in order to teach you and to protect the lives you're endangering. After all, if we let the small things go, then how do we keep them from escalating into big things that put people in danger? If you don't draw a line somewhere, then no one knows when to stop.

** I get really angry when I read the ignorant, stupid, biased and pointless comments posted to online news articles. Reading them doesn't improve me as a person or teach me anything I didn't know or do anything besides fill me with murderous rage, so I've decided that I need to avoid reading them as much as possible. It's much healthier.

Petty in pink

2010-07-27T15:40:00.000-04:00

I'm going to preface this post by saying that I generally abhor pettiness. These days I try to stay above that sort of thing, especially in my writing. That said, I had a mega-petty moment today that I just have to share with you all.

There is a woman I work with that I just don't like. I've tried, I just can't do it. She's high on her own importance and rather thoughtless, with no clue about how to speak to those below her on the seniority totem pole in a productive way. She'll walk into the office with a stack of envelopes and letters for me to stuff, drop them off without checking if I'm available at the moment, then wander off to gossip elsewhere in the office -- usually after making what she apparently thinks is a helpful comment about whatever it is I'm working on. When she does this, I generally fume for a minute or two and then get down to business using the absolute minimum brainpower required for the job. Today I was feeling particularly alert when she dropped off her latest stack, which happened to include envelopes addressed to several people I know, including their job titles. I was surprised to see a very important person addressed by the wrong first name. I called her to let her know and then proceeded with the rest of the mailing, paying a little more attention.

DUDE.

The woman can not spell or type.

Not only were there MULTIPLE typos (Torotno appeared more than once), but there was one addressed to Rockhead Climing Jym. Yes. Jym with a J, apparently, and climbing without a B. There were others, but I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say that, despite my desire to be better than this, I'm feel pretty smug right about now.

OK, enough with the pettiness. Let's move on to something even worse --- PUNS.

Alternate titles for this post:

Petty-coat Junction?
Heavy Petty?
Ugly Petty?

Pictured: The first image that came up when I Googled "petty". LURVE IT!

Throwing stones in the pond

2010-07-26T15:50:00.001-04:00

It's easy to forget that our influence on the world around us is like a stone dropped in a pond: it might not make a big splash, but the ripples from that splash can reach further than we could have imagined. Case in point: I sold a beautiful tie clip in my Etsy shop a couple of weeks ago, and emailed the buyer this weekend to find out if it had arrived and if she was happy with it. She sent me an email this morning thanking me for the clip and telling me about its intended receipient. She's getting married in a couple of weeks, see, and is planning to give it to her grandfather at the rehearsal dinner. He recently lost his sweetheart and wife of 60 years. The engraving on the clip just happens to look like the one on his wedding ring, and the stone that it's carved in just happens to have been her grandmother's birthstone. She thought it would be a nice way to honour her grandmother's memory and celebrate a long and happy marriage.

Just think about that for a second.

...

Isn't that a beautiful story? And seriously, what are the odds? I just happened to see the clip and liked it enough to buy it. I listed it, and she just happened to come across it and recognize the pattern and the stone.

The next time you're slaving away at a task that's not particularly exciting or rewarding, take a moment and think of this story. Who knows? There might be someone out there having a beautiful moment thanks to the ripples you caused.

Is it too much like one of those motivational posters with this picture on the end? C'mon, it's soooo pretty!

Whatever happened to class?

2010-07-22T16:30:00.000-04:00

I was walking by Dark Horse coffee last night, peeking in the window as I always do, and then I did one of those cartoon double-takes where your eyes bug right out of your sockets and your jaw smashes down to the pavement. Why, you ask? I saw a woman sitting in the front window, sipping away at her coffee and reading the paper... WITH HER FEET UP ON THE TABLE!! I could NOT believe it. Who in this world thinks it's OK to go into a food service establishment and put your dirty old feet right up on a surface people eat and drink from?


Pictured: NOT the lady in question, but I think they're in the same class.

Seriously, what is WRONG with people today? It seems that, in our busy modern world, we only have time to think about ourselves. Thinking about others is a luxury most people just can't seem to afford. You see it constantly: people smoking in front of hospital doors; garbage strewn within 10 feet of a huge public garbage bin; a streetcar jammed to bursting in the front with room to spare in the back because no one can be bothered to move back a few feet. It seems that if there's no immediate punishment for a misdeed, we no longer understand that it's a misdeed and it becomes socially acceptable. Is that really the way we should be living? I mean, I understand that that's how we learn right from wrong in kindergarten, but shouldn't there come a point where we as adults learn to consider the feelings and comfort of others without a punishment/reward system? Maybe I'm asking too much.

I know, I know, I just can't stop harping on this one! I work in the service industry, and feet on the table is just gross.

Sweet white puffball brooch!

2010-07-22T10:53:00.002-04:00

Ain't she sweet? Check out her listing.

Doesn't this bring you back to lazy late-summer afternoons, your head in the grass and your eyes on the sky?

Classy times in the Rose...

2010-07-17T13:29:00.004-04:00

I'm spending the weekend in Welland with my folks. Now, Welland isn't exactly at the centre of culture, but it's certainly not redneck central. I'm saying that now because when I tell you what I've done thus far this weekend, you're going to be measuring me for a Coors Lite t-shirt and acid-washed jeans.

Friday: Had some family over for dinner and went to a car show in the parking lot of the mall. Yes, that's right, people park their old/cool cars at the mall, set up lawn chairs beside them, and let people poke their heads inside the engine. It was actually pretty fun! I picked out a beautiful black van from the seventies with one of those tiny round windows at the back and flames painted down the sides. HAWT.

(Side note: There was actually a redneck girlfight between two corvettes... I shit thee not.)

Saturday morning: Street-wide yard sale! I made about 18 bucks and bought an amazing vintage cigarette roller that I'm hoping to resell for big bucks. Met some nice people too. :)

(Pictured: NOT our yard sale, but an interesting marketing strategy nonetheless)

We also had Rory out on his leash for a bit... he dug some holes, trimmed the Hostas and scared a Pomeranian.

Good news for fans of the Etsy shop... Welland is a GOLD MINE for kick-ass vintage crap at bargain prices. The shop is going to have some great stuff listed over the next week or so!

Things I like

2010-07-13T16:19:00.001-04:00

I like trees
I like grass
I like my bunny when he gives me sass.

I like blue skies
And going away
I like when friends come by to play.

I like my family
I like my books
I like when boys give me second looks.

I like to eat
I like to sing
I...

... I guess I like a lot of things!

Frosted pink berry earrings!

2010-07-08T11:08:00.002-04:00

New listing in the Etsy shop!

http://www.etsy.com/listing/51062640/sweet-fuzzy-pink-berry-drop-earrings

Good news, everyone!

2010-07-04T21:01:00.004-04:00

I just had my first sale in my Etsy shop!!! I'm very excited!!! Hence the exclamation points!!!

http://suburbanhypocrite.etsy.com

And now, a picture of a bunny drinking a beer!

Happiness writes white.... but that's hard to read.

2010-06-29T16:31:00.002-04:00

I’ve been having a stressful time of it lately. If I hadn’t been rehashing it for various friends all day yesterday I’d inflict it upon my loyal reader(s). I’m trying to keep the panic down by listening to happy-making songs. Lame, I know, but it seriously helps. Some of them are songs specifically about happiness and others are just songs that make my heart soar (for lack of a less lame description). Here are my top happy songs:

Soul Bossa Nova by Quincy Jones

Happiness Writes White by Harvey Danger (download the whole album here for FREE!)

Army by Ben Folds Five

Don’t Stop Believing by Journey

Spill The Wine by War

Don’t Rain On My Parade from the musical Funny Girl (I’m partial to Lea Michele’s version from Glee, but of course Barbra is Barbra!)

Mr. Jones by Counting Crows

King of Spain by Moxy Fruvous

Let’s leave it at that for the time being. What are YOUR happy-making songs?

Can I stage a protest against the protesters?

2010-06-28T14:25:00.003-04:00

I fled to the woods this weekend to escape the G20 madness. While none of my paranoid delusions of a Toronto-pocalype came to pass, I was shocked and embarassed by the things that DID go on. Flaming police cars? Seriously? What are these people THINKING? I mean, I understand that you have a point that you'd like to get across, but unless it has to to with the flammability of police cars, it's not coming through. In the weeks leading up the summit I remember reading many articles and blogs with completely valid points that definitely merited a peaceful protest. I stepped out of town for a weekend and now that I'm catching up on events, all I'm reading about is violence and whether or not the police response was justified. Where did all the valid points go? What the hell was the point of destroying other people's property if that act of destruction did not clearly communicate your point? You just like destroying crap and "protest" is a convenient banner behind which to hide your stupid angry violent face.

Ugh. Toronto, I am embarassed and sorry on your behalf. You're a lovely city full of culture and charming people-- too bad the charming folk were all out of town this weekend.

Gettin' the hell outta Dodge!

2010-06-25T11:25:00.001-04:00

I'm off to the woods. Enjoy the G20, suckers. Give Obama a smooch for me!

Shakin' all ovaaaah!

2010-06-23T16:48:00.003-04:00

So, didja feel the earthquake today? I've felt the earth move before, but not in QUITE the same way! ;) What a strange experience. It wasn't at all scary... after all, it was only a 5.5, hardly enough to topple buildings. But how amazing to actually FEEL the effects of those tectonic plates our science teachers insist are there! The Internet has made the world seem like such a small place, but earthquakes remind you of just what a big giant hunk of rock we really live on, and how delicately we're balanced on it.

Buy my stuff!

2010-06-21T23:09:00.003-04:00

Weeeell, I'm finally sellin' stuff in my Etsy shop! Check it out!

Suburban Hypocrite

I like to write stuff.

2010-06-15T09:47:00.003-04:00

My beloved blogatrix so pauvre reminded me that it's been awhiiiiile since I've posted anything. When I started writing in here again I vowed that I would be dedicated and would regularly write thought-provoking, titillating blogs of staggering genius.

...

...

Aaaaanywho, I've been a busy little bee of late, but that's no excuse. My writing muscles are getting flaccid, and who likes a flaccid anything? I need to get writing again, especially with school looming on the horizon. This is not to say that I haven't been THINKING about writing, I just haven't been DOING any writing. I've actually been thinking quite a lot about my biggest block as a writer: perfectionism. I'm a hopeless editor. Even if I've only written a little sentence, I have to reread and rewrite it until the poor thing hasn't a shred of freshness or vibrance left! I also love to make things overly complicated. This is a problem for someone who's interested in writing for children. I think maybe I need to start journalling again, just for myself. I can write stream of consciousness-style, no editing allowed, and just see where that takes me.

Agh!

Even now I'm re-reading this entry and trying to edit it. Stop! Post now!

That's SIR Captain to you!

2010-06-02T11:34:00.001-04:00

My knight in shining scalp!!

Star Trek’s Captain Picard upgraded to Sir - thestar.com

Boom de ada boom de ada!

2010-05-28T14:50:00.001-04:00

Adventurer straps balloons to chair and crosses English Channel - thestar.com

Starving African children can't live on your righteous indignation!

2010-05-20T15:35:00.005-04:00

I was reading a blog post today about this crazy life-like Barbie cake slathered with Swarovski crystals. Don't ask. I clicked on the link to the comments which were mainly of the "this cake is amazing" ilk. I came across one particular comment from a poster who took offense to the wastefulness of a cake covered in Swarovski crystals when there are "starving children in Africa". Yes, they actually used the "starving children in Africa" argument. I swear I thought I was sitting at a 1950s dinner table! She (I'm assuming it was a she based on the fact that it was a blog about cake) called the excess disgusting.

While agree that Swarovski crystals on a cake is a disgusting example of excess and waste, what I find more disgusting is people who get up on their high horse about these things, forgetting that they're sitting on their lazy asses in their comfortable homes reading a blog about CAKE.

If you're as saintly a humanitarian as you'd like us to believe, then why are you reading a blog about pretty cakes when you could be on Kiva (kiva.org) lending money to small businesses in third world countries, or on Amnesty International (amnesty.ca) signing a petition for the release of an imprisoned human rights activist? Starving children in Africa don't have a nice house like yours, with running water and Internet access... by your logic, doesn't that make YOU disgusting?

I'm well aware that writing this is hypocrisy of the highest order, btw. Why am I wasting my time criticizing this person when I myself could be on Kiva or Amnesty? Well, that's why it's called Suburban Hypocrite, kids.

But seriously, if everyone who wasted time making pointless complaints like this had taken that time to actually DO something, I think the world would be in much better shape.

On that note, I'm off to pick sign a few petitions!

I'm afraid of the world.

2010-05-19T09:21:00.001-04:00

Taser attack at Wendy’s over mayo - thestar.com

Walkin' my way to inner peace.

2010-05-06T15:56:00.004-04:00

When I got my new job in February, I was thrilled to discover that it was only about a 25 minute walk from my house. Imagine the savings! Imagine the exercise! As soon as the weather warmed up a tad, a-walking to work I went. Down to Queen, over the Don and the DVP, slight left onto King, then a left on Front and poof! I’m there. After a couple of weeks, I realized that there was another benefit to walking to work: rage reduction. I’ve found that assholes really come out to play on the TTC, especially at rush hour. They won’t move back to let more people on to the streetcar, they reek of cigarettes or cheap perfume, they crank up their iPods loud enough to make BYSTANDERS deaf… I could go on for hours (and I have). I would find myself having imaginary confrontations with stupid jerks and getting myself all worked up over what, in the long run, amounted to nothing. But now that I’m walking to work every day, I’m blissfully free from the ignorant masses! I really enjoy my morning walk in, especially on sunny mornings like the one today. It feels a little like an episode of Sesame Street, sometimes. I march merrily along, nodding to the crossing guard and shouting a cheery “hello!” to my friend at the Green Park convenience store. This morning I swear I could almost hear that Brady Bunch song playing me along…

I think I'll go for a walk outside now,
the summer sun's callin’ my name.
(I hear ya now)
I just can't stay inside all day,
I gotta get out get me some of those rays!
Everybody's smiling,
sunshine day!
Everybody's laughin’,
sunshine day!
Everybody seems so happy today,
it's a sunshine day!

Contented sigh.

This attitude change has been a long time coming, and I'm happy about it. It can't be good to be constantly frustrated and annoyed, especially when it's over NOTHING. I find that now, when I do end up on the TTC, I'm able to recall that feeling of loving everyone and everything on my walk to work and forget about the stupid little things that used to be such a big deal for me. I'm sure my heart and nerves are grateful.

Gay rights violation in Mississippi? I, for one, am SHOCKED!

2010-04-28T16:34:00.001-04:00

Jackson Free Press: Jackson, Mississippi - Noise - School Cuts Gay Student Photo from Yearbook

A special treat for you today, readers: more outrage! Anyone who believes that gay people are people and deserve the same basic rights as everyone else in the world, please read this article. If you're as PO'd as I am, please join me in shaming redneck podunk principal Ronald Greer - rdgreer@copiah.k12.ms.us .

Airport kitty found!

2010-04-28T15:33:00.001-04:00

Ludwig the cat found at Pearson Airport - thestar.com

A happy (but slightly dirty) ending! Hurrah for Ludwig!

Also...

I'd have smacked those asshole baggage-handlers upside the head, that's for damn sure. Imagine how sad and pathetic your life would have to be to make you into the kind of person who would mock a girl looking for her lost pet. Losers.

How to make the interweb a friendlier place to surf!

2010-04-26T14:24:00.004-04:00

If you're like me, you've whiled away many an hour reading the comments on online newspaper articles, blogs, forums etc. Have you noticed that even the most innocent, seemingly non-inflammatory articles seem to inspire inflamed comments? In this "instant gratification" world we live in, no one takes the time to think before they comment, they just react and post. In the golden days of yore, a reader offended by an article would have to take up pen and paper, write out their complaint, address an envelope, buy a stamp, and travel to the post office in order to voice their opinion. As a result, they had a lot more time to consider their reaction and whether or not it was justified, and to decide on a better way of responding.

So here is the gauntlet I'm throwing down to all users of the interwebs: the next time you're upset by a post and composing a negative response, just stop for a minute. Re-read the post; think about other ways that it could be interpreted aside from the negative way that you've taken it; decide if the comment you're posting will make a difference or if you're just perpetuating the same negativity that angered you in the first place. I'm not saying that a negative response is never justified -- in fact, there are times when I think it's the only way to get through to a jerk! I'm just saying that 99 times out of a hundred, you could do a lot more good in the world by offering honey instead of vinegar, you dig?

Earth is my favourite planet!

2010-04-22T15:17:00.012-04:00

Happy Earth Day, everyone! Here's a little celebratory gift. I would have embedded the video, but... well, it's happy day, let's not get into how I spent the last hour (at work!) trying to get it to embed properly to no avail. Enjoy!

http://watch.thecomedynetwork.ca/library/#clip290968

Go hug a tree!

My pre- reading list reading list.

2010-04-20T15:18:00.005-04:00

Some of you might be aware that I'm going back to school in the fall. I'm doing Centennial College's post-grad Children's Entertainment Production program, a fit so miraculously perfect for me that I can't imagine why I didn't start down this particular career path years ago. As the kids say, I'm pretty stoked. At least I THINK the kids say that. How should I know?

On that subject (and please excuse the contrived segue), I've assigned myself a new project: This summer I'm going to read my way through the Newbery Medal award-winners. The Newbery is awarded annually to the author of the year's most valuable contribution to American children's literature. Not only will I enjoy the hell out of this project, but I think it's going to be pretty useful to me as well. I bet a large portion of next year's reading list will be Newbery-winners.

First up is Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book, the tale of graveyard-dwelling Nobody Owens who belongs to neither the world of the living nor of the dead. I'll probably read his Coraline as well. I won't prioritize it since I've already seen the movie, but I've been told it's a fantastic read.

And on a completely unrelated note, Kick Ass honoured its promise and kicked ass!

What about the bread, dammit?

2010-04-13T15:33:00.004-04:00

My fave blogger so pauvre made a post today about the "healthy" snack options at her work. I work at a children's theatre, so the rare snacks that show up around here are of the carrot sticks and organic nut-free oatmeal cookie persuasion. However, said theatre is located in downtown Toronto so junk foods are easily accessible. I'll be giving the local KFC a wiiiiiiide berth after seeing this baby: The Double Down Sandwich.

For those of you too lazy to click the link, the Double Down is one mofo of a sandwich which uses two slabs of fried chicken in place of the bun. In between are bacon, cheese and sauce. All for just 540 calories, 32 grams of fat and 1,380 milligrams of sodium.

Stunned silence.

There are lots of reasons to be disturbed by this sandwich: the day's worth of sodium; the marketing dude's comparison of the Double Down to a freak show; the fact that they created a huge advance marketing blitz so that "fans" could "arrange their schedules in advance."

But the most disturbing fact of all? I actually kinda want one! I know, I know, I'm sick. But seriously dudes, I loves me my sodium. I think I've eaten KFC about three times in my life, and every time I've been left feeling bloated, disgusting and ashamed. I never think to myself "Hmmm, I could really go for some KFC right now". Well, until I walk by a KFC and get a blast of that heavenly greasy smell right smack in my face. Even then I really don't want it, but dammit, there's something about that smell! And they really do make food items that sound like a suicidal over-eater's wet dream. Those bowl things? MAN.

In short, KFC is the devil. I'm going to go nibble some carrot sticks.

Baring my rear at my 30th year.

2010-04-06T09:22:00.005-04:00

I think it's weird that people make such a big deal about certain "landmark" birthdays. OK, I guess it's cool when you turn 16 and can get your learner's permit. And maybe it's nice to be 19 and able to drink legally (although personally I think that sucks some of the fun out of it). But other than that? Big whoop!

That said, I'm turning 30 tomorrow. Friends who've already hit the landmark had various reactions, ranging from "Oh yeah, I'm 30. Huh." to attempting to drown themselves in scented bathwater and a few litres of red wine. I wasn't sure which extreme I'd end up going to, so I started to prepare myself on my 29th birthday just in case. I thought about what I was doing and whether or not I was happy. I came to the conclusion that, while I've done a lot of cool things, met a lot of wonderful people and been to a lot of amazing places, I wasn't completely satisfied with the path I was on. I knew if I hit 30 and still felt that way I'd probably be one of the ones suckin' back the bubble bath. I made a couple of promises to myself. In the year leading up to my 30th, I would:

Learn to concentrate on the good in my life -- good friends, good days, good decisions -- and work to eliminate negative influences;

Decide where I want to go in life, and take the first few tentative steps to get myself there.

And I think that I've actually kept those promises! I can now ride the streetcar without running a continuous angry rant about ignorant jerks inside my head. I'm standing up for myself when I've been wronged. I'm spending more time with the people who matter, or at least commenting regularly on their blogs! I'm cooking and baking more often, planning a garden, I have a beautiful bunny and a fantastic apartment and a full-time job. I've taken an animation voice-over workshop and plan to record a demo in May. I'm going back to school in the fall to study the production side of children's entertainment, a career that's such a perfect fit for me that I can't imagine why I didn't think of it before.

In short, I'm happier than I can remember being since childhood. I figure if I can say all that AND my boobs are still perky without a bra, 30 can kiss my (fabulous) ass!

Hoppy Easter! Or something more funny...

2010-04-04T23:07:00.002-04:00

"Hey, man, that chicken came on to ME!"

Bad friend apology post!!!

2009-11-16T21:00:00.005-05:00

Sooooo, what with moving and working and not having Internet at home and being a self-absorbed jerk-face and all, I seem to have missed my dear sweet surly teen Leaky's birthday. I'm hoping to atone for this grievous friendship sin by dedicating a post in my (nearly readerless) blog!

I met Leaky in my last year of high school, and we cemented our friendship over bricks of cheese and gingerboys. Sunday nights have never been quite so joyous as they were in the era of Mulder-nights! Later on we became roomies, and our l'il princess C-dub joined us for a year and a half of space potatoes, Brenden Leonard viewings and surly Post-Its. Ah, blissful days of yore!

Here are some things that remind me of my precious surly teen...

If Leaky were to have a baby with a very very Aryan man...

Happiest of birthdays, Leaks! I'm sorry I'm so unworthy of your friendship. I hope I can try to buy it back with gingerboys and fine cheeses the next time I'm in the Rose.

Love,

tK

Adopt my porch kitties!

2009-10-09T19:05:00.006-04:00

Two very sweet and lovely kitties have decided that my porch is the hip new place to be! And while I of course agree with them, I can't help but think that in a few weeks my porch isn't going to be so much "cool" as it is "freezing freaking cold", and they're going to need a nice warm hangout. That's where YOU come in!

These two lovelies have been around for about a week. I've been feeding them for a couple of days, and it appears that the neighbours may have put out a bit of food before that. I've also made them a little bed out of a hamper.... they're so cute when they snuggle down together for the night! I don't know what sex they are or how old, but I'd guess that they're just out of kittenhood, since they're pretty small and delicate. And I've been referring to them as girls for convenience's sake. :) They're very good-tempered... the one that's more greyish is a little shy, but lets me pet her and sometimes leans so far into my hand that she almost topples over! The black and orange one is a little bolder and more energetic... it was difficult getting a decent photo of her because she kept circling around me for more lovin'! Neither of them has made even an attempt to bite or scratch me. All of this, combined with the fact that traffic noises seem to scare them a little, makes me think that they had a home at one point. Which means that they're either lost or have been dumped by stupid jerks.

Soooooo, if these sweethearts belong to you (or if you'd like them to!), please get in touch. I'd be happy to answer any questions you might have, or to arrange a meeting.

Help me get two loveable ladies (or gents) out of the cold and into a loving home!

I enjoy being a blonde.

2009-09-22T22:05:00.002-04:00

Woman, 56, dies after sidewalk crash with cyclist

2009-08-11T15:58:00.002-04:00

Anyone who thinks I'm over-reacting when I rant about sidewalk cyclists should read this article.

Woman, 56, dies after sidewalk crash with cyclist

Shared via AddThis

Chip off the old blockhead

2009-08-07T18:53:00.001-04:00

If you've ever wondered where I got my taste for adventure...

http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/thenortherntier

Made for walking?

2009-08-07T00:17:00.005-04:00

A patron at the Herbie Hancock and Lang Lang concert was displeased because, due to the (partially-approved)actions of a security guard, some beer had been spilled on his ... and I'm not shitting you here ... $1500 Adidas-esque hipster sneakers. Massey Hall will be paying for them to be professionally cleaned.

In the same world where the vast majority of human beings are suffering, plagued by war and disease and poverty, where $1500 could mean life or death, this douchebag can throw away $1500 on a pair of ugly shoes. And then demand that someone else clean them.

There is no justice in this world.

ARGH

2009-06-24T13:53:00.001-04:00

Still no fucking hard drive. I hate Purolator. That is all.

Hiatus

2009-06-15T16:23:00.002-04:00

Hey kids,

So my hard drive died. Thus, I for once have an excuse for not posting! I promise I'll get back to entertaining and educating you on a bi-weekly basis as soon as I can.

tK

:D

The Bald and the Beautiful, Part Deux

2009-05-25T21:13:00.005-04:00

I first spotted this fine specimen as charming photographer Elliot DiMauro on Just Shoot Me. There were "cuter" boys around, perhaps, but something about him grabbed me and I found myself crossing my fingers for love scenes.

My interest bloomed into full-blown lust the moment Enrico strode onto the screen as hard-boiled private dick and devoted father Keith Mars. Whether he's saving someone's ass, solving the crime of the year, or pontificating on the merits of macaroni with "the orange powder stuff", Keith Mars is the stuff sexy dreams are made of.

And when I realized that Enrico had played weirdo alien Mathesar in Galaxy Quest, well...

He's stolen my heart (and loins). How appropo for a man born on Valentine's Day! So here's to you, Enrico! Just Do Me.

Warning: Spoiler-iffic for Season 3 of Veronica Mars!

And a little NSFW treat...

...tasteful nudity!

2009-05-20T22:13:00.002-04:00

My dad was out in his kayak yesterday. I know, my dad kayaks, he's adorable. Anyway, he was paddling around, minding his own business, when he saw something weird in the water. At first he thought it was a deer, but then he thought to himself "Hmmm, deer don't wear shoes." Yup, that's right, my dad found a DEAD BODY in the river. This kind of thing ONLY happens to my dad. He paddled straight back to shore and called the cops, and they're I guess keeping him posted on the situation. They know it's a female, but that's all so far. I felt pretty bad for my poor father, but he seems to be OK. Personally, I think I would've been off food for a month after something like that, but he's a better man than I.

Dear Hip fans:

2009-05-14T09:32:00.001-04:00

A note from Massey Hall.

We're not trying to "ruin your fun" when we ask you not to stand on the seats, we're trying to keep you from breaking the seat... or, more importantly, your neck. They're old seats, and a lot of you are showing up drunk... or high.

We're not being "assholes" when we ask you not to stand in the aisle, we're letting you know that you're breaking the fire code. We can get shut down if all aisles are not kept accessible. And if something happens and people need to get out quickly, your selfishness could cost people their lives.

We're not acting like "Nazis" when we make you put out your joint. Smoking ANYTHING indoors is ILLEGAL and STUPID. We're a not-for-profit hall, we can't afford the massive fines that you're incurring. Also, the hall was built in 1894 and is made of wood. Do you REALLY think it's a good idea to light anything on fire in there????

Finally, please remember that we're people too. We love our hall and we want everyone to enjoy themselves here, but it's hard for US to enjoy ourselves if we're being treated like crap just for doing our jobs.

Thanks!

Massey Hall

Forgive me father for I have binged. Now it's time to purge!

2009-05-06T17:59:00.007-04:00

I have a tendency to hold on to things... old clothes, old ideas, old slights and prejudices. All of the above need to be gotten rid of. ASAP. Therefore, I hereby declare summer 2009 the SUMMER OF LETTIN' GO!

To do list:

* Purge my closet of all unnecessaries.

* Educate myself on the current state of the world.

* Test out a modified and modernized version of the old "free love" ideal.

* Try not to think so hard about EVERYTHING and just live.

* Obtain some closure in certain emotional situations that have been festering.

Here goes nothing!

We'll miss you, Dorothy!

2009-04-27T18:24:00.003-04:00

In memoriam: Beatrice "Bea" Arthur (May 13, 1922 – April 25, 2009)

A gifted comedienne, actress, singer, and the sharpest-tongued of the Golden Girls. I spent many an hour watching that show and wishing I had Dorothy's chutzpah. You'll be missed, Bea!

At long last.... it's BUSINESS TIME!

2009-04-21T08:40:00.004-04:00

Flight of the Conchords, night one, at Massey Hall TONIGHT!

It's funny... Bret's angry dance looks a whole lot like the excited dance I'm about to jump out of bed and launch into.

Infinity, interrupted.

2009-04-20T13:12:00.005-04:00

When I was in Thailand, I went to visit a shaman. I won't get into the gory details as much of the experience was really personal, but I have a related story to share.

When I left my appointment, the shaman gave me a little cell phone tag. It's one of those woven ones you see in Chinatown all the time, with a little stone charm that she called a symbol of infinity (not the traditional tipped-over figure 8 but a series of interlocking circles). I attached it to my phone, since my plastic Tweety Bird-in-a-candy-wrapper was getting a tad worn. Sometime later I noticed that a piece of the infinity symbol had chipped off... not a good sign, right? :) Anyway, there was nothing I could do about it and I still liked the charm, so it stayed.

Fast forward a few months. I was sitting on my bed the other day, and I set my phone on the dresser. I was fiddling with my bedspread when I heard the "clink" of something hard hitting my wooden floor. Leaning off the edge of the bed, I saw a little piece of polished grey stone. I picked it up and examined it. Blinked. Examined it again. Picked up my cell phone and, sure enough: the little piece was a perfect fit for my broken charm! Seriously guys, I need to stress to you just HOW weird this is. I lost the piece of the charm MONTHS ago... I'm pretty sure I wasn't even living in this apartment when it broke. Even if I was, I've swept and vaccumed the floor many times, and removed all of the bedding at least once or twice a month. There's NO WAY that little piece has just been kicking around waiting for me to find it.

Can anyone else hear the X-Files theme playing right now???

My dad's museum

2009-04-14T08:52:00.004-04:00

Every time I go home to my parents' place it seems that something is different, and this time it was dad's bathroom. He'd left it boring and white for so long that I assumed it was some kind of decorative statement relating to his new "spartan" philosophy. Recently, though, he went to town and I really dig the results. Dad went through all of his old memorabilia that survived the spartan lifestyle purge and liberally decorated the walls of his bathroom. There's an old poster from the moon landing featuring Buzz Aldron as photographed by Neil Armstrong (with a "first day of issue" stamp and everything!); photos of himself on some of his more ambitious cycling trips (his big hobby is long distance cycle touring); a beautiful wall clock he built in his clockmaker phase; a lamp he made out of one of his old antique car toys; a picture of himself and one of my long-departed grandfather on their motorcycles; a couple of dad's old Canadian Enduro Champion plaques. In short, souvenirs of a life well-lived and not even close to over.

It got me thinking. I often suffer spells of melancholy about the general path my life has taken. I feel like I haven't accomplished as much as I should have at my age. I think what I need is something like my dad's bathroom in MY apartment; a place where I can look at reminders of the amazing places I've been, the wonderful people I've met, and the incredible things I've seen and remember that not only has my life indeed been well-lived, but it's definitely not even close to over!

The Count can count on Patrick Stewart

2009-04-10T23:40:00.003-04:00

The payoff is at 0:50 or so.

The bigger payoff is at 1:50.

And the Count brings it on HOME at the end!

29 and doin' just fine!

2009-04-08T23:17:00.007-04:00

Yesterday was my 29th birthday! I marked the occasion with a number of delightful festive activities:

Party at my place last Friday night! We toasted the end of my Roaring Twenties and distracted my attention from the impending Great Depression.

Woke up yesterday to a barrage of well-wishes online and a cell-phone serenade from Genevieve. Fancy-schmancy sushi lunch with Steev, followed by a wine-soaked bubble bath and luxurious nap. After that, dinner with Robin at Czehoski, and then birthday karaoke at Tequila Sunrise!

And as if all that weren't enough, the Massey kids and I are going out tomorrow after the show for a joint Kelly-Sarah Tron birthday gong show, and then on Saturday I'm going to be spoiled by my parents and friends in the Region!

Bubble bunnies!

2009-04-06T09:47:00.009-04:00

I was hanging out with Steev up at Eglinton and Mount Pleasant yesterday. It was gorgeous out, so we decided to go for a walk and seek out some dinner. As we wandered east along Eglinton, we saw what looked like a big piece of foam packing material floating towards us... except that it was floating much more successfully than your average piece of foam packing material. As we approached the corner of the Metro, we noticed that these pieces of material looked like they had actual shapes. Then we came to the edge of the Metro parking lot, and behold:

Perhaps it's hard to tell from my low-quality cell phone picture, but maybe the gold Lindt bunny in the background will clue you in. BUBBLE BUNNIES!!! Yessir, Lindt had hired a company called Flogos, which creates environmentally-friendly floaty bubble logos for the wonder and delight of all and sundry. It was SO COOL. We hung out there for a good 15 minutes, watching the bubbles slowly push through the stencil on top of the machine and then jump free into the Sunday night breeze. We cheered for the bunnies that made it over the treacherous trees and balconies across the street and soared away over the rest of the city. Bye-bye, bunnies!

The feeling of watching them soar away brought me back again to Thailand, watching the kids release their khoom fay (fire lanterns) on our last night at the orphanage.

My bff Nice getting ready to release her khoom fay.

Success! Nice's lantern wasn't one of the ones that went up in flames! (Side note: between the flaming lanterns and the kids who had learned how to make mini firecrackers, it's a miracle everyone came out of this night unscathed).

Sorry about the blurriness. It's probably due to me quaking with fear at the children's gratuitous use of gunpowder that night.

Attitude adjustment

2009-04-05T14:10:00.004-04:00

Wow. I've barely been back to blogging for two weeks, and already I've taken a vacation. Procrastination is one of my many talents. :D

My auntie Diane does a lot of work with craftspeople and business owners in third world countries. She has her own company, and a big part of what they do is help people in these countries market their products or services in other countries. I've always thought that was pretty amazing, and I'm always eager to hear stories about the places she's been and the people she's met. One thing she said that stuck with me was the difference she noticed in the way people responded to her seminars and things. Back home, people respected her as a businessperson and listened to her, but in these poor countries people would devour every word she said, would take every last copy of her manuals and reports, and were exceedingly grateful for any tiny scrap of information she could give them. This difference in attitude is something I noticed at the orphanage in Thailand, too. Those kids would just soak up everything you tried to teach them, and were always eager for more. All I had to do was sit down on the steps of the main building, and I'd be surrounded by 5 or 6 little girls who wanted me to teach them crocheting, or bracelet-making, or help them practice their minimal English.

This is the attitude I'm trying to cultivate in myself. I want to reach out and take everything that's offered to me, and use every advantage I was lucky enough to be born with. I don't want to waste any more time just coasting by...

Synchronicity-city

2009-04-01T23:39:00.004-04:00

Any of you familiar with the concept of synchronicity? Allow Wikipedia to explain:

"Synchronicity is the experience of two or more events which are causally unrelated occurring together in a supposedly meaningful manner. In order to count as synchronicity, the events should be unlikely to occur together by chance."

Observe synchronicity in action: I was contemplating topics for tonight's blog. I decided I would hit the random article button on Wikipedia and see if inspiration struck. The very first article that came up was about Bristol, Connecticut. Cut to my recent entry . What does one have to do with another? The boy in question is FROM Bristol, Connecticut.

Awed silence.

I know, it's not particularly exciting, but I just find these little instances of synchronicity SO interesting, like my psychic iPod that used to have an eerie ability to make random playlists that coordinated precisely with my mood. Does this particular instance of synchronicity mean anything? Probably not anything too profound. It DOES remind me that there are a lot of negative things in my life - past betrayals and bitterness, par example - that I've been holding on to for a long time. Perhaps I should take this strange little coincidence as a sign that I should start to root out all the negativities that I've been cherishing for so many years and try a little forgiveness. Maybe it'll help me, I don't know, grow as a person or some crap like that.

Sometimes people are amazing.

2009-03-30T10:13:00.002-04:00

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/thailandchildrenoffbeat

Consider me inspired.

Flip it to the flip-flip flop!

2009-03-27T19:19:00.003-04:00

If I lived in an ideal world, I would never ever wear shoes. I would trip merrily across grassy fields and scamper up trees, dig my toes into the freshly-turned earth of my garden and leave dirty footprints in my wake wherever I went. When I still lived with my folks (and they still lived in the old house on an acre of land), I could sometimes go for DAYS with nekkid feet. Ahhh, the glory of my youth.

This is why I love flip-flops so much... they're the closest I can possibly get to being barefoot whilst living in Toronto. Every year when March rolls around, I start sticking my toes out the door in the morning, waiting for the day when I can cast aside the shackles of sturdy winter shoes and strap on the footwear equivalent of a g-string. And ladies and gents, I'm happy to announce that today was that day! I can't even describe how I felt when I stepped out my front door and marched off down Dufferin Street, the gentle slap of each step like an exclamation mark. Spring! Spring! SPRING!!!

Happy sigh...

People who amuse me

2009-03-26T17:42:00.002-04:00

Kate Micucci. I first saw her on Scrubs with Robin, we immediately googled her and joy was felt by all!

You know it's spring when I start ranting about cyclists.

2009-03-25T12:36:00.003-04:00

Dear cyclists of Toronto:

You are not welcome on the sidewalk. It's a sideWALK, not a sideBIKE. I understand that you don't feel safe riding on the road... but if you're not willing to ride your bike in compliance with the LAW, then DON'T RIDE A BIKE!!! And don't try and pretend you're concerned about your safety when you're not even wearing a helmet. Jackass.

Oh, and when I pause on the sidewalk and say "Excuse me sir, it's illegal to ride your bike on the sidewalk", PLEASE come up with a more intelligent response than flipping the bird or making that "blah blah blah" gesture with your hand. It only proves that not only are you a selfish jerk who enjoys endangering innocent pedestrians... you're also a dumbass.

"Annie waits for the last time. Just the same as the last time."

2009-03-24T10:37:00.007-04:00

I have recurring dreams.

When I was a child, I dreamed of learning to fly in the backyard of a friend whose brother and father scared the crap out of me (but it was a really sweet backyard). I would run and run and eventually launch myself into the air for short minutes of blissful freedom. I came to realize that this dream was about my desire to start making my own way in the world and to be free from expectations.

When I got through college and entered the dreaded "aimless years", I began to dream about my teeth falling out. All the dream analysis books claim that this means I felt a loss of control in my life. This all got a bit too literal for me that day at the cottage when one of my teeth actually cracked and a piece fell out with zero warning!

The latest recurring dream is a bit more annoying. I've been having dreams about the first guy I ever ... ever what? Loved? Slept with? Thought I saw a future with? The dreams are all variations on one another. Sometimes I find out we're going to be working together at a summer camp; sometimes he calls me up when he's going to be in the neighbourhood; sometimes we get in touch on (shudder) Facebook. He always suggests or hints that we should get together and "catch up". Or, more accurately, I take his sudden reappearance as a sign that we should do so. I'm always surprised but eager, and arrange my schedule so that I can see him. I quickly find myself waiting around for him, missing out on opportunities for fun to make myself available for when he decides to show. I'm sure you can guess where I'm going with this.

My subconscious apparently thinks I'm too stupid for symbolism and feels it has to slap me across the face with my own mistakes. Sigh...

The Bald and The Beautiful Part Un

2009-03-21T21:23:00.006-04:00

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I have a soft spot in my heart (and loins) for Patrick Stewart, and have since the tender age of 12. I watched, enthralled, as he commanded the flagship of the fleet and stole the hearts of women across this galaxy and into the next. I longed for the opportunity to participate in "Captain Picard Day" (in fact, I plan to host one in the next few months). I own not one, not two, not three or four, but FIVE Picard action figures (although one of them is a Lego man I painted when I was like 12... another was lovingly handcrafted by my dear friend Devin. Love you, Devo!). For these reasons, I would like to give Patrick the honour of being the first in a series I'm calling The Bald and The Beautiful. I plan to feature men of talent, brains and raw sexuality who have cast off the shackles of a full head of hair and embraced their shiny pates!

And now my lovelies, ENJOY!

Angry Jean-Luc:

AWESOME Jean-Luc:

I started out a little tightly wound, like a rocket shot up out of frozen ground...

2009-03-19T00:21:00.001-04:00

I used to have a diary. It was all about boys.

I used to have a Livejournal. It was all about my general disgust with humanity.

I used to have four posts on this very blog. It was all about poetry.

Now I'm starting again with a clean slate. It's about friggin' time.