As I was driving back from the city this morning, I suddenly remembered how I spent my Thanksgiving Monday last year. Surrounded by police and grabbing a few belongings, I left a house I had paid for to escape a truly evil person and began a year of homelessness. The cynic in me felt that this was just the beginning of an inevitabley horrible year as I approached my 37th birthday - my dreaded age. Although I gave thanks that year for my family and my health, I really felt there was little else for which I could give extraordinary thanks. And I literally dreaded what was to come.
Oh how a year can change so much. The romantic or maybe the little kid in me wonders if I have so much this year to give extraordinary thanks for because I began this year standing beside my favourite person in the world in our favourite place on Earth - the Magical Kingdom. Haha. Seriously. It is. The student of Psych 100 in me recognizes that the reason I have so much to give thanks for is because last year I chose to walk away from evil, illness, manipulation, lying and demons and open myself up to laughter, love, hope and possibilities.
As I drove home on the rainy highway, I began to make a list of everything new this year for which I am so thankful. So, in addition to my annual thanks for my family and my health, this year I add (in no particular order):
1. My instincts - After ignoring you for a few years, I am so glad to welcome you back into my life. Thanks for sticking around and providing excellent guidance this year.
2. My education - I always tell kids that your education will never fail you and, this year, more than ever, I am thankful for the road that my education has taken me down.
3. The people my education and my job brought into my life - especially a wonderful woman who invited me to share her bed in Las Vegas. ;)
4. Home - After a year of living a nomadic life and enjoying the many opportunities that afforded us, I am thankful again to have my own roof over my head and to be surrounded by the things I love.
5. Greek style yogurt - Seriously. That stuff is awesome.
6. A wonderful community in which we find ourselves and the many wonderful people we have met including the kindest/funniest family I have ever known and a family with whom we can share vacations. To have had both these families welcome us into their lives has been a wonderful gift.
7. Having a child who is now old enough to figure out how to hook up Netflix through the Wii on TV - thus eliminating the need for cable! Yay!
8. A fellow recovering Catholic - who loves to call me loser as a term of endearment and always follows it up wth a heartfelt sorry. I am also thankful that this recovering Catholic finds me funny enough to join his comedy group and, although I am terrible, provides me with constant, over the top affirmation.
9. Trader Joe's and their amazing organic fair trade breakfast blend coffee beans. Ah-mazing.
10. My incredible (and hot) friend and stylist whose shop allows for Steel Magnolia style visits but without the death. She makes me look great and helps me feel great with her awesome personality and wonderfully insightful Facebook updates. And for her children - who have also given the gift of friendship to my child.
11. Glee. What can I say? It's Glee.
12. Two amazing friends who reminded me that when it comes to matters of the heart, it would be better to listen to them than myself. The same two friends who introduced me to Ship Happens. Visa thanks you as well.
13. Long term and long distance friends who can spend many miles and many months apart but pick up exactly where we left off. To our mutually verbally abusive affection for one another. 13 years and counting...
14. A certain paramedic who is the kindest, gentlest man I have ever met who not only brings me joy, laughter and excitement but, most of all, peace. Someone who - no matter what crazy thing I suggest - will smile and say "Sure. Let's do it." Thank you for all the hope and possibilities that you bring with you...
15. I also give super duper thanks to my extraordinary friend who is more like my sister (and sometimes my mother) and has, literally, been a life line for the past year. My spectacular friend who helps me look inside myself and laugh, laugh, laugh. The enthusiasm that she shows for my life makes me somewhat giddy...
16. Finally I give thanks for not having had a turkey dinner this year because, if I actually admit it to myself, I hate turkey.
As I sit on the couch in my home after having spent an outstanding weekend with friends and an incredible man, I am excited to think what I will be thankful for next year...
Monday, October 10, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
What does it take to get a little fairness around here?
I once had a counsellor tell me that my only "problem" was my need for justice. She told me that if I could let go of my need to find fairness in this world, I would really reduce my stress. She gave me this sage advice about seven years ago and I can honestly say to this day... it is a big of crock of shit now as it was then. I think of all the wrongs in this world... not just the big ones but all the little acts of unfairness and I can't help but think "why?" I can't even imagine just letting go of the feeling a need for justice and fairness - it just seems like that would lead us to complete apathy. Don't get me wrong - I have definitely learned to manage my stress levels and to laugh off the feelings generated when I see injustice and unfairness but let it go? Never.
So, today I end my first week of school demanding justice and fairness for those who deserve it. As a teacher, I think of all those high up in education who consistently reward themselves with wage increases, travel budgets, expense accounts while those of us on the "front lines" are left to pick up the pieces left behind by dessimated budgets and an education system that is, above all else, ready to implode. Rather than thinking "what will best serve the needs of the students" we seem to be in this culture of "what will best meet the bottom line"? I have been lucky enough these last few years to be in a somewhat sheltered teaching position but, with this new school year, I have learned exactly how screwed up priorities in education are. As a teacher, I wonder how long I will last before I join the ranks of the completely burned out and disillusioned. As a parent, I wonder how long it will be before my own child falls through the cracks and no one listens to my pleas for help while government officials continue to pad their pockets at the expense of our youth.
On a personal level, I end this day wondering where is the fairness in the universe. Why do good people suffer while those with cold hearts and immoral behaviour flourish? It is days like this where I question the existence of any kind of supreme being or wonder if we are all just biology. If there is a supreme being: I'd really just like to ask: what the fuck do you think you're playing at? Stop being such an asshole.
While I can find laughter in almost anything, somedays I go to bed thinking: I just don't get it.
So, today I end my first week of school demanding justice and fairness for those who deserve it. As a teacher, I think of all those high up in education who consistently reward themselves with wage increases, travel budgets, expense accounts while those of us on the "front lines" are left to pick up the pieces left behind by dessimated budgets and an education system that is, above all else, ready to implode. Rather than thinking "what will best serve the needs of the students" we seem to be in this culture of "what will best meet the bottom line"? I have been lucky enough these last few years to be in a somewhat sheltered teaching position but, with this new school year, I have learned exactly how screwed up priorities in education are. As a teacher, I wonder how long I will last before I join the ranks of the completely burned out and disillusioned. As a parent, I wonder how long it will be before my own child falls through the cracks and no one listens to my pleas for help while government officials continue to pad their pockets at the expense of our youth.
On a personal level, I end this day wondering where is the fairness in the universe. Why do good people suffer while those with cold hearts and immoral behaviour flourish? It is days like this where I question the existence of any kind of supreme being or wonder if we are all just biology. If there is a supreme being: I'd really just like to ask: what the fuck do you think you're playing at? Stop being such an asshole.
While I can find laughter in almost anything, somedays I go to bed thinking: I just don't get it.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
And so it begins...
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/story/2011/08/31/bc-teachers-strike-student-impact.html
Teachers served strike notice the other day and comments on the CBC website demonstrate that, as a group, we are about as popular as Christy Clark at the SFU alumni only BBQ. Thankfully, after years of listening to angry, delusional rants from my former spouse, most of the comments do not bother me but make me wonder if these people would ever say these things to a teachers face. I doubt it... most likely because they would never admit to how ill informed they are.
Don't get me wrong: I love my job. I love almost everything about it. It's a great job but like any job - it has its good qualities and its bad ones. I could go on about how my job doesn't just go from 9 to 3 five days a week, September to June because, seriously, who hasn't figured that out? Oh right. The ignorant haters who write comments to the CBC. Normally, I don't reply to the comments but today I did. Here is the exchange:
Someone named VANSUN wrote (and the spelling errors are not mine):
"For most part of the summer, my daughter has to stay at home herself because none of her parents has a job like those teachers who can enjoy a two-month long vacation.
She has been patiently waiting for the open doors of her scholl and has been preparing for back-to-school supplies for quite a while. Autally, she gone to the malls with her friends a couple of times to shop her school supplies.
Now she had been ready back to school in great attitude and happy mood utill she learned the teacher's strike notice. She is actually crying and crying for going back to her long waited school.
May I ask those striking teachers stop taking my daughter and so many other boys and girls as hostages to get a raise for their own?"
I replied:
"I am a teacher and a single parent. I will watch your daughter during my two month "vacation" if you watch my son four evenings a week and Saturdays during the school year while I work planning, marking, supervising extracurricular activities, meeting with parents and doing report cards. Would you mind if your daughter spent a week at school with me at the beginning of July and end of August? That is where I am during part of my "vacation" cleaning up from the previous year and preparing for the next. During the summer, would you mind if I didn't give your daughter all of my attention as I work planning for the upcoming school year? For every hour taught, two hours usually go into lesson planning. I realize you are ignorant but hopefully you can do the math. I hope the ignorance is not genetic and just a learned trait so your daughter won't inherit it... I cried for your daughter. I love my job, never complain about the hours but am so sick to death of ignorance like yours thinking I work six hours a day, nine months a year."
After my comment posted, someone chastised me for calling VANSUN ignorant. By definition, ignorant means lacking knowledge or information as to a particular subject or fact: uninformed. My referring to someone as ignorant isn't name calling - it is saying that they are lacking in knowledge and uninformed. So I will apologize for this: I am sorry if you are so ignorant that your primary gripe about teachers is that they "get" two months vacation in the summer and you do not. I also apologize if you think that teachers served strike notice because of a raise - go spend some time in your daughter's classroom and you will figure out why we served strike notice.
What I did find amusing about the reply to my comment was that this person told me to get childcare like people are "forced" to do during proD days and Spring Break. First of all, I paid my fair share of daycare expenses over the years so don't think that because I teach, I don't have childcare issues as well. ProD days are professional development or training days. Everyone gets training. Everyone. The logistics of being responsible for 20 to 30 (ideally)children make all day training impossible. That is just common sense. If we didn't continuing learning and developing as educators, parents would just gripe about that too.
Clearly, the commentator also missed the entire point of my offer to VANSUN... which is what I work during the regular school year so I can "enjoy" a two month long vacation.
It seems to me that many of these commentators - these two included - view teachers as publicly paid babysitters. And we have all seen the joke about how much teachers would make if each parent had to pay us according to current babysitting rates... I'm game.
Teachers served strike notice the other day and comments on the CBC website demonstrate that, as a group, we are about as popular as Christy Clark at the SFU alumni only BBQ. Thankfully, after years of listening to angry, delusional rants from my former spouse, most of the comments do not bother me but make me wonder if these people would ever say these things to a teachers face. I doubt it... most likely because they would never admit to how ill informed they are.
Don't get me wrong: I love my job. I love almost everything about it. It's a great job but like any job - it has its good qualities and its bad ones. I could go on about how my job doesn't just go from 9 to 3 five days a week, September to June because, seriously, who hasn't figured that out? Oh right. The ignorant haters who write comments to the CBC. Normally, I don't reply to the comments but today I did. Here is the exchange:
Someone named VANSUN wrote (and the spelling errors are not mine):
"For most part of the summer, my daughter has to stay at home herself because none of her parents has a job like those teachers who can enjoy a two-month long vacation.
She has been patiently waiting for the open doors of her scholl and has been preparing for back-to-school supplies for quite a while. Autally, she gone to the malls with her friends a couple of times to shop her school supplies.
Now she had been ready back to school in great attitude and happy mood utill she learned the teacher's strike notice. She is actually crying and crying for going back to her long waited school.
May I ask those striking teachers stop taking my daughter and so many other boys and girls as hostages to get a raise for their own?"
I replied:
"I am a teacher and a single parent. I will watch your daughter during my two month "vacation" if you watch my son four evenings a week and Saturdays during the school year while I work planning, marking, supervising extracurricular activities, meeting with parents and doing report cards. Would you mind if your daughter spent a week at school with me at the beginning of July and end of August? That is where I am during part of my "vacation" cleaning up from the previous year and preparing for the next. During the summer, would you mind if I didn't give your daughter all of my attention as I work planning for the upcoming school year? For every hour taught, two hours usually go into lesson planning. I realize you are ignorant but hopefully you can do the math. I hope the ignorance is not genetic and just a learned trait so your daughter won't inherit it... I cried for your daughter. I love my job, never complain about the hours but am so sick to death of ignorance like yours thinking I work six hours a day, nine months a year."
After my comment posted, someone chastised me for calling VANSUN ignorant. By definition, ignorant means lacking knowledge or information as to a particular subject or fact: uninformed. My referring to someone as ignorant isn't name calling - it is saying that they are lacking in knowledge and uninformed. So I will apologize for this: I am sorry if you are so ignorant that your primary gripe about teachers is that they "get" two months vacation in the summer and you do not. I also apologize if you think that teachers served strike notice because of a raise - go spend some time in your daughter's classroom and you will figure out why we served strike notice.
What I did find amusing about the reply to my comment was that this person told me to get childcare like people are "forced" to do during proD days and Spring Break. First of all, I paid my fair share of daycare expenses over the years so don't think that because I teach, I don't have childcare issues as well. ProD days are professional development or training days. Everyone gets training. Everyone. The logistics of being responsible for 20 to 30 (ideally)children make all day training impossible. That is just common sense. If we didn't continuing learning and developing as educators, parents would just gripe about that too.
Clearly, the commentator also missed the entire point of my offer to VANSUN... which is what I work during the regular school year so I can "enjoy" a two month long vacation.
It seems to me that many of these commentators - these two included - view teachers as publicly paid babysitters. And we have all seen the joke about how much teachers would make if each parent had to pay us according to current babysitting rates... I'm game.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Driving Your Bus on the Life Route
Wow. Haven't written anything since May 9. How sad.
As I was dropping someone off at the airport this morning and wondering where (of even if) this person is going to fit into my life, I couldn't help but think about "my bus." One of the things that I have realized about myself is that I am someone who likes answers; I want to know the why. If there isn't an answer to the why, I have a tendency to develop a theory to explain it. One of the little gems that I came up with during my boring stint as a cubby worker which coincided with my never ending divorce saga (yup Paulie - still married to this day) where many of my relationships with people changed and many great new people entered my life was my theory of "the bus." It helped me explain the "why" of what happens to our relationships and connections with people as we travel through our life journey.
Our relationships - whether they are familial, romantic or friendship based - all evolve, I think. Our life is like a bus journey (not the gross, humid, overcrowded commuting kind but the "just right" kind) and we are the driver of the bus. Some people get on the bus, stand near the back and get off quickly, some people get on the bus and stand for a very long time near the front and sometimes people get on the bus and act as our co-pilot... and there are people in between. And while people are on the bus, sometimes they move around, changing positions - looking for the right spot. Every relationship gives us something wonderful but people come and go... the wonderful thing about the bus is that it is always traveling and always picking up new people as others exit.
I think when we are young, our bus travels an urban route where there are always new people coming and going - people constantly shifting positions - usually for a short time. But we also have those passengers who get on our urban route, take a seat somewhere on the bus and continue on with us as our route changes - maybe moving toward the driver or getting comfortable at the back. As we age, we change our routes - moving from fast-paced urban routes to longer with less stops suburban or even rural routes. On these routes, we pick up less passengers but they stay on the bus longer.
And, of course, sometimes - usually related to romance - we pick up the wrong passengers. You know, the ones who are can be malicious, rude, obnoxious, want to shove of us off the seat and drive it themselves or downright violent but who, hopefully, we have the sense to slam on those brakes and toss them off the bus - whether there is a designated stop or not. A little snag in the route but the journey will continue on...
As I was dropping someone off at the airport this morning and wondering where (of even if) this person is going to fit into my life, I couldn't help but think about "my bus." One of the things that I have realized about myself is that I am someone who likes answers; I want to know the why. If there isn't an answer to the why, I have a tendency to develop a theory to explain it. One of the little gems that I came up with during my boring stint as a cubby worker which coincided with my never ending divorce saga (yup Paulie - still married to this day) where many of my relationships with people changed and many great new people entered my life was my theory of "the bus." It helped me explain the "why" of what happens to our relationships and connections with people as we travel through our life journey.Our relationships - whether they are familial, romantic or friendship based - all evolve, I think. Our life is like a bus journey (not the gross, humid, overcrowded commuting kind but the "just right" kind) and we are the driver of the bus. Some people get on the bus, stand near the back and get off quickly, some people get on the bus and stand for a very long time near the front and sometimes people get on the bus and act as our co-pilot... and there are people in between. And while people are on the bus, sometimes they move around, changing positions - looking for the right spot. Every relationship gives us something wonderful but people come and go... the wonderful thing about the bus is that it is always traveling and always picking up new people as others exit.
I think when we are young, our bus travels an urban route where there are always new people coming and going - people constantly shifting positions - usually for a short time. But we also have those passengers who get on our urban route, take a seat somewhere on the bus and continue on with us as our route changes - maybe moving toward the driver or getting comfortable at the back. As we age, we change our routes - moving from fast-paced urban routes to longer with less stops suburban or even rural routes. On these routes, we pick up less passengers but they stay on the bus longer.
And, of course, sometimes - usually related to romance - we pick up the wrong passengers. You know, the ones who are can be malicious, rude, obnoxious, want to shove of us off the seat and drive it themselves or downright violent but who, hopefully, we have the sense to slam on those brakes and toss them off the bus - whether there is a designated stop or not. A little snag in the route but the journey will continue on...
Monday, May 9, 2011
Laugh, Shop, Wander
Move over Liz Gilbert with your sappy story of Eat, Love, Pray but thank you for the idea of giving my past six months three verbs to use to describe it. Unlike Gilbert I do not have an editor willing to support me on a year where my sole focus is on finding my joy while I travel the world. Instead, my verbs come from how I choose to lead my life given the circumstances which have currently presented themselves to me.These are the three I choose: Laugh, Shop, Wander.
Laugh: I choose to laugh and to find the ability to laugh everywhere. I see humour every day in everything. I choose to surround myself with people who choose to laugh and who remind me to laugh. I seek out laughter - in the films I watch, the songs I listen to, the conversations I have, the stories I tell, the methods I use to teach, the activities in which I participate and the lense in which I choose to view my life. You try to beat me down? I laugh at the ridiculousness that is you. Laughter... with some faith... is my religion.
Shop: My shoe collection has grown exponentially in the past six months. I have chosen to embrace my love of this sport... hahaha. What else can I say? To have shop is my second verb is a much smarter choice than drink or gamble.
Wander: This verb came to me as a byproduct of my circumstance. However, I have chosen to embrace this verb. I have wandered. I have tried out homes, taken a train trip, flown several times, road trips and even tried traveling for work. Wander. While I miss my things and having my own private place in the world, I am learning to embrace the freedom and adventure that this action provides. As a young adult, all I wanted to do is wander and somehow I lost my way. Funny on how letting such an evil person into my life has allowed me to rediscover my desire to wander.
Will my year end in Indonesia with Javier Bardem? Doubtful... that fate is currently left to Penelope Cruz. Will my year end in an adventure? I certainly hope so and if I have my own Javier Bardem to keep me company... even better.
Laugh, Shop, Wander... what will my three verbs be in six months time?
Sunday, May 8, 2011
The Family Who Governs Themselves Accordingly...
As I continue to ponder what it means to govern yourself accordingly, my father is now too trying to figure that out as well. As a family, we stand together perplexed. I mean... it is not like there is a self-help or how-to book on how to govern yourself accordingly... particularly when you are being held to the standards of one's who level of morality, common sense, ethics and brains is so far beneath yours that they are like specks of dirt on the floor. However, as we receive an abundance of correspondence letting us know what it means to govern yourself accordingly, we soon hope to be able to publish "Governing Yourself Appropriately... A How-To-Book for the Good People who do not know how to Act like a Morally and Ethically Bankrupt Person." The title is a bit long - but we are working on it.
The one lesson that we keep learning over and over again: when you are wrong, be on the offensive and never, ever tell the truth.
Here is what else we have gathered: when people are bothering you - even when you have asked them repeatedly to leave you alone - you do not govern yourself accordingly by referring to that person as a "jackass." Athough it is a noun listed in the dictionary as a "male donkey" or "a contempibly foolish or stupid person," apparently people with low morals who commit ethically and criminally wrong acts feel that it is not appropriate to refer to them in this fashion. Go figure.
Also... when people call you immature for walking away from someone who has lied to you, conned you, stolen from you and threatened you, you do not govern yourself accordingly by advising them that they have long ago crossed the fine line between maturity and insanity. Lesson learned. Okay to call someone immature. Not okay to point out a person's insanity.
What do these people who do not want to be referred to as a "jackass" or "mental" do? Apparently, the best way to govern yourself accordingly when you are harrassing someone who does not appreciate it and calls you a noun listed in the dictionary - you call the police to report this atrocity... to right the wrong that has been done to you. Because this, of course, is the best way to demonstrate that you are neither a jackass or a mental case.
The one lesson that we keep learning over and over again: when you are wrong, be on the offensive and never, ever tell the truth.
Here is what else we have gathered: when people are bothering you - even when you have asked them repeatedly to leave you alone - you do not govern yourself accordingly by referring to that person as a "jackass." Athough it is a noun listed in the dictionary as a "male donkey" or "a contempibly foolish or stupid person," apparently people with low morals who commit ethically and criminally wrong acts feel that it is not appropriate to refer to them in this fashion. Go figure.
Also... when people call you immature for walking away from someone who has lied to you, conned you, stolen from you and threatened you, you do not govern yourself accordingly by advising them that they have long ago crossed the fine line between maturity and insanity. Lesson learned. Okay to call someone immature. Not okay to point out a person's insanity.
What do these people who do not want to be referred to as a "jackass" or "mental" do? Apparently, the best way to govern yourself accordingly when you are harrassing someone who does not appreciate it and calls you a noun listed in the dictionary - you call the police to report this atrocity... to right the wrong that has been done to you. Because this, of course, is the best way to demonstrate that you are neither a jackass or a mental case.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Always remember to "govern youself accordingly..."
I was recently warned by someone who has done many illegal and immoral things and who is taking anti-psychotic medication that I need to govern myself accordingly. This is funny on so many levels and I seriously don't even know what that means. Govern myself according to whose standards? I think mine are pretty high but there are a lot of grey areas in my world. Should I lower my standards to govern myself at his level? Or do I follow Harper's lead in governing myself... and sidestep the blame? It is the word "accordingly" which is so ambiguous that it is causing me great confusion.
Always one to follow unsolicited and hypocritical advice as I constantly strive for self-improvement, I wanted to make the most of this advice so I did my research: I sought out the definition in the dictionary... and although I still have no freakin' clue what it means in the context of this advice, I do know this: it is an adverb which is pronounced "uh-kawr-ding-lee" and is not to be confused with accordian - an instrument similar to a piano you hold that my dad won't admit to knowing how to play.
I will assume that the advice is meant to imply that my behaviour has been called into question and that I need to improve upon that. I thought I governed myself pretty well... I don't litter. Except for my criminal window tint, I don't really commit any crimes. I recycle. I eat my veggies. I donate to charity. I'm not really a troublemaker. I colour inside the lines. I pay my taxes. If I actually took the bus, I would totally give my seat to an elderly person. I moved from being in the cubby to prepping children to either dream beyond the cubby or embrace the mediocrity that comes from life in the cubby. Except for my whole "Christy Clark" thing I don't really disparage anyone publicly... not even people taking an anti-psychotic that doesn't seem to be working.
I am perplexed. I thought that maybe if I used this expression, took ownership of this saying that I would understand the apparent great complexity of it all. I tried using it on friends and family. They just shook their heads. Some even laughed (can you imagine???) I tried using it on the dog - she just wandered off. I tried using this in the classroom as a classroom management tool. I said it out loud. There was silence... for a few brief seconds. Then looks of confusion and then the end result... Kids just laughed. I did too. So I guess the saying does serve some purpose... bringing people together over the absurdity of it all.
Here is my advice: the next time you feel blue, that life is just too serious for you... take a good, long look at yourself in the mirror and sternly say "govern yourself accordingly..."
Always one to follow unsolicited and hypocritical advice as I constantly strive for self-improvement, I wanted to make the most of this advice so I did my research: I sought out the definition in the dictionary... and although I still have no freakin' clue what it means in the context of this advice, I do know this: it is an adverb which is pronounced "uh-kawr-ding-lee" and is not to be confused with accordian - an instrument similar to a piano you hold that my dad won't admit to knowing how to play.
I will assume that the advice is meant to imply that my behaviour has been called into question and that I need to improve upon that. I thought I governed myself pretty well... I don't litter. Except for my criminal window tint, I don't really commit any crimes. I recycle. I eat my veggies. I donate to charity. I'm not really a troublemaker. I colour inside the lines. I pay my taxes. If I actually took the bus, I would totally give my seat to an elderly person. I moved from being in the cubby to prepping children to either dream beyond the cubby or embrace the mediocrity that comes from life in the cubby. Except for my whole "Christy Clark" thing I don't really disparage anyone publicly... not even people taking an anti-psychotic that doesn't seem to be working.
I am perplexed. I thought that maybe if I used this expression, took ownership of this saying that I would understand the apparent great complexity of it all. I tried using it on friends and family. They just shook their heads. Some even laughed (can you imagine???) I tried using it on the dog - she just wandered off. I tried using this in the classroom as a classroom management tool. I said it out loud. There was silence... for a few brief seconds. Then looks of confusion and then the end result... Kids just laughed. I did too. So I guess the saying does serve some purpose... bringing people together over the absurdity of it all.
Here is my advice: the next time you feel blue, that life is just too serious for you... take a good, long look at yourself in the mirror and sternly say "govern yourself accordingly..."
Monday, March 28, 2011
It is not me. It is you but here is what I suggest...
As my dreaded year looms only days away and following a lengthy (as in I'd give a grade 9 girl a run for her money in terms of chattiness) but thoroughly delightful - almost to the point of wet pants - telephone conversation with one of my very wisest friends, this is what I have come to realize: boy/girl interactions do not change at all as you age: they are just as dumb as they were when we were teenagers - now there is just white hair involved.
We still ask the same things: Why didn't he call when he said he would? Why hasn't he made a move? WTF was with that move? Why is he so clingy? Why does he think I'm too clingy just because I took up one drawer after our third date? Why hasn't he pronounced his undying love for me after two months? Why did he pronounce his undying love for me after six days? WTF is with his hair? WTF where did his hair go? Am I prettier, smarter than the last girl? The list goes on...
My sage friend and I are somewhat of an anomaly, I think. We look like women but really, underneath it all, we are just guys. And this makes us the worst kind of woman to date. Men have been programmed through years of dating disasters to think that they know exactly what we want to hear but, seriously, they have no freakin' clue. We don't want to talk about our feelings, we certainly don't want to hear about yours, we will tell you if you look fat in your jeans, we don't want to be smothered, we fail to see the point in flowers, PDA is for hormonally charged teenagers who can't get a room, we prefer to roll over and go to sleep rather than cuddle and above all else, when we break up - we will tell you it's you and not us. Because, let's face it - it probably is.
When we break up, the guys in us still want to have our cake and eat it too. At the end of the day, we are probably not too concerned over the lack of romance (we will get over that quickly) but these men do serve a purpose. My very astute friend has come up with a useful email that I feel is too clever not to share with the world. It allows us to let the other person know that there are some things in the relationship that we do appreciate and would like to keep. It goes something like this:
Dear valued customer;
Due to a lack of activity on your account over the last several weeks your membership status has been downgraded to our convenient 'Friends with Benefits' package.
We feel this package is more suited to your current needs and believe you will be much happier with this service.
If you are not interested in the 'Friends with Benefits' package or feel this change has been made in error please contact our customer service department between 9am and 5pm PST and one of our Customer Service Representatives would be happy to discuss your membership account.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your business.
Regards,
Smar Tass
Senior Manager, Consumer Relations
God bless wise and witty friends.
We still ask the same things: Why didn't he call when he said he would? Why hasn't he made a move? WTF was with that move? Why is he so clingy? Why does he think I'm too clingy just because I took up one drawer after our third date? Why hasn't he pronounced his undying love for me after two months? Why did he pronounce his undying love for me after six days? WTF is with his hair? WTF where did his hair go? Am I prettier, smarter than the last girl? The list goes on...
My sage friend and I are somewhat of an anomaly, I think. We look like women but really, underneath it all, we are just guys. And this makes us the worst kind of woman to date. Men have been programmed through years of dating disasters to think that they know exactly what we want to hear but, seriously, they have no freakin' clue. We don't want to talk about our feelings, we certainly don't want to hear about yours, we will tell you if you look fat in your jeans, we don't want to be smothered, we fail to see the point in flowers, PDA is for hormonally charged teenagers who can't get a room, we prefer to roll over and go to sleep rather than cuddle and above all else, when we break up - we will tell you it's you and not us. Because, let's face it - it probably is.
When we break up, the guys in us still want to have our cake and eat it too. At the end of the day, we are probably not too concerned over the lack of romance (we will get over that quickly) but these men do serve a purpose. My very astute friend has come up with a useful email that I feel is too clever not to share with the world. It allows us to let the other person know that there are some things in the relationship that we do appreciate and would like to keep. It goes something like this:
Dear valued customer;
Due to a lack of activity on your account over the last several weeks your membership status has been downgraded to our convenient 'Friends with Benefits' package.
We feel this package is more suited to your current needs and believe you will be much happier with this service.
If you are not interested in the 'Friends with Benefits' package or feel this change has been made in error please contact our customer service department between 9am and 5pm PST and one of our Customer Service Representatives would be happy to discuss your membership account.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your business.
Regards,
Smar Tass
Senior Manager, Consumer Relations
God bless wise and witty friends.
Monday, March 14, 2011
An Open Letter to "Our" New Premier
Dear Ms. Clark,
Well, I guess congratulations are in order. Congratulations to you for being the least worst option for the Liberal party and getting yourself appointed. Enjoy your 15 minutes that you have somehow managed to stretch out to a decade.
You have left me with a bit of a dilemna. As I work with students encouraging them to improve their life options by exploring post secondary options, it seems I am going to have to change my approach. Surely, everyone is aware that you partied your way through three universities with nary a certificate to your name. How to get around this when speaking with students?
I know. I am not supporting women's rights... like you, right? Actually, as a woman, you offend me. You make us look cheap and conniving. Some of us believe in education, hard work, and choosing the best person for the job. You are not it. You might as well wear a t-shirt that says: completely self serving and unapologetic.
Seriously, though, great work on negotiating that Kevin Falcon not push for the public inquiry into the sale of BC Rail. God knows that Good For Nothin' Husband of yours might have made you look bad. Making him Deputy Premier in return: pure genius making a bigger idiot than you your right hand man. The two of you as poster children for BC? People will think we are now the Vegas of the North... the day after.
Okay. Okay. If you are stuck on things to do tonight to celebrate. Might I suggest that you stand at the end of Gordon Campbell's driveway and wait for him to come home from his dinner with Fred and Cathy? Wear black.
Best regards,
Someone who would vote for Mark Emory over you
(and we all know how I feel about potheads)
Well, I guess congratulations are in order. Congratulations to you for being the least worst option for the Liberal party and getting yourself appointed. Enjoy your 15 minutes that you have somehow managed to stretch out to a decade.
You have left me with a bit of a dilemna. As I work with students encouraging them to improve their life options by exploring post secondary options, it seems I am going to have to change my approach. Surely, everyone is aware that you partied your way through three universities with nary a certificate to your name. How to get around this when speaking with students?
I know. I am not supporting women's rights... like you, right? Actually, as a woman, you offend me. You make us look cheap and conniving. Some of us believe in education, hard work, and choosing the best person for the job. You are not it. You might as well wear a t-shirt that says: completely self serving and unapologetic.
Seriously, though, great work on negotiating that Kevin Falcon not push for the public inquiry into the sale of BC Rail. God knows that Good For Nothin' Husband of yours might have made you look bad. Making him Deputy Premier in return: pure genius making a bigger idiot than you your right hand man. The two of you as poster children for BC? People will think we are now the Vegas of the North... the day after.
Okay. Okay. If you are stuck on things to do tonight to celebrate. Might I suggest that you stand at the end of Gordon Campbell's driveway and wait for him to come home from his dinner with Fred and Cathy? Wear black.
Best regards,
Someone who would vote for Mark Emory over you
(and we all know how I feel about potheads)
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Don't get knocked up as a teen... you'll steal my spotlight.
I love Chelsea Handler. She is the epitome of "no social sieve" and I am so jealous that she gets to live out all of her narcissitic fantasies of saying exactly what she wants on television! Fame for having a big mouth - what could be more glorious?!?!?
One of the clips that always makes me laugh is when she is talking about Bristol Palin having some sort of speaking engagement to young people. Completely incensed by the absurdity of this, Handler comments that she has a better idea of who would make a great role model for young people - "someone who is 19 and doesn't have a fucking baby."
Continuing on with my obsession about celebrity, I just read two things today (well I am sure I read MORE than two things today) that really made me think: WTF???
1. Bristol Palin is set to write her memoir. WTF? She is 19 with a baby and no job. What the hell does she have to say? Does she plan on discussing her shock when she discovered she was pregnant? Maybe she will mention how her mother neglected to mention that you could actually get pregnant on a school day. I mean, her mother is Sarah Palin: it is QUITE possible that this was a common belief in the house. Will she recount - in graphic detail - how she lost her virginity to the ultimate narcissist, Levi Johnson? Because unless it is in graphic detail - bordering on porn - who the hell is going to read it? It would be like watching the Jersey Shore with old people in it.
2. First of all, I am sickened that there is actually a show which glamourizes teen moms. Seriously? But, again, there is another article about one of them speaking of the importance of birth control. This is someone who has found fame due to a simple lack of two things: 1) common sense and 2) a condom. So let's see: I am a fame seeking teenager with really no discernible talent or, frankly, ambition. I hear a message from another teen who, through the simple act of getting pregnant, has found fame and fortune. All of this fame and fortune were achieved without hard work or an education. So WHY exactly would I not be tempted to get pregnant? After all, at some point these women will be too old for the title of "teen mom" and there may be a casting call.
But what do we expect? We would criticize these young women if they stood up and said: "Heck ya, I'd get knocked up again. I'm rich because of it." At least Palin has realized that she needs to capitalize on remorse for as long as she can. I just wonder what her kid is going to think when he realizes that the house he lives in was paid for by money his mother made while traveling the country letting everyone know what a mistake he was.
But this is good TV, right? I mean: who is going to watch a show about a bunch of girls who make smart choices and abstain from sex?
One of the clips that always makes me laugh is when she is talking about Bristol Palin having some sort of speaking engagement to young people. Completely incensed by the absurdity of this, Handler comments that she has a better idea of who would make a great role model for young people - "someone who is 19 and doesn't have a fucking baby."
Continuing on with my obsession about celebrity, I just read two things today (well I am sure I read MORE than two things today) that really made me think: WTF???
1. Bristol Palin is set to write her memoir. WTF? She is 19 with a baby and no job. What the hell does she have to say? Does she plan on discussing her shock when she discovered she was pregnant? Maybe she will mention how her mother neglected to mention that you could actually get pregnant on a school day. I mean, her mother is Sarah Palin: it is QUITE possible that this was a common belief in the house. Will she recount - in graphic detail - how she lost her virginity to the ultimate narcissist, Levi Johnson? Because unless it is in graphic detail - bordering on porn - who the hell is going to read it? It would be like watching the Jersey Shore with old people in it.
2. First of all, I am sickened that there is actually a show which glamourizes teen moms. Seriously? But, again, there is another article about one of them speaking of the importance of birth control. This is someone who has found fame due to a simple lack of two things: 1) common sense and 2) a condom. So let's see: I am a fame seeking teenager with really no discernible talent or, frankly, ambition. I hear a message from another teen who, through the simple act of getting pregnant, has found fame and fortune. All of this fame and fortune were achieved without hard work or an education. So WHY exactly would I not be tempted to get pregnant? After all, at some point these women will be too old for the title of "teen mom" and there may be a casting call.
But what do we expect? We would criticize these young women if they stood up and said: "Heck ya, I'd get knocked up again. I'm rich because of it." At least Palin has realized that she needs to capitalize on remorse for as long as she can. I just wonder what her kid is going to think when he realizes that the house he lives in was paid for by money his mother made while traveling the country letting everyone know what a mistake he was.
But this is good TV, right? I mean: who is going to watch a show about a bunch of girls who make smart choices and abstain from sex?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Learning to laugh through the anger...
Having had a few train wrecks of my own (I guess that wasn't my neighbour's SUV with the UHaul trailer that just looked like mine), I've become a bit obsessed with celebrity train wrecks. After all, I can be thankful that when I walk into work, kids can't say "Oh look. It's that dumbass who lived with a guy who left her at home to raise his kids while he gambled away all her money." My shame is only known to a select few. But I do have something to learn from these celebrity train wrecks. On a recent episode of Oprah Winfrey, the current train wreck that is David Arquette talked about anger. He said that he has learned that anger is like drinking poison but expecting the other person to die. It got me thinking about my own anger... and how do I deal with it?
Anyone who knows me knows that I receive a plethora of emails from someone to whom I will be forever linked... not by choice. These emails used to fill me with anger. Over the years, and thankfully due to the volume of them, I have learned that humour is the best way to deal with my anger. In responding to these emails using humour, I am able to deflect my own anger back on the person who has caused it... in essence throwing his drink right back in his face. It has allowed me to appreciate the absurdity of these interactions and to learn to take all the crap that life has thrown at me with a hearty laugh.
While I am not thankful for that a once great relationship has been downgraded to pretty much open hositility, I am grateful that it has allowed me to learn and grow and tell a really wicked joke.
Recently, I took this humour and applied it to a spoken exchange. Speaking about an (once again) absurd electronic interaction, I used my humour to let this person know that I no longer feel enraged but, rather, find them amusing. Using humour to replace anger, I found it to be a powerful tool to not only calm myself and let things go but to let the adversary know that he does not have the ability to control my emotions. Only I do. But I do have to admit, I'm no saint. It was pretty funny to see how unnerved he was when I laughed and smiled.
As I make my away from my current train wreck, I can reflect on what I have learned and use it to move forward... throwing another person's drink right back in his face.
Anyone who knows me knows that I receive a plethora of emails from someone to whom I will be forever linked... not by choice. These emails used to fill me with anger. Over the years, and thankfully due to the volume of them, I have learned that humour is the best way to deal with my anger. In responding to these emails using humour, I am able to deflect my own anger back on the person who has caused it... in essence throwing his drink right back in his face. It has allowed me to appreciate the absurdity of these interactions and to learn to take all the crap that life has thrown at me with a hearty laugh.
While I am not thankful for that a once great relationship has been downgraded to pretty much open hositility, I am grateful that it has allowed me to learn and grow and tell a really wicked joke.
Recently, I took this humour and applied it to a spoken exchange. Speaking about an (once again) absurd electronic interaction, I used my humour to let this person know that I no longer feel enraged but, rather, find them amusing. Using humour to replace anger, I found it to be a powerful tool to not only calm myself and let things go but to let the adversary know that he does not have the ability to control my emotions. Only I do. But I do have to admit, I'm no saint. It was pretty funny to see how unnerved he was when I laughed and smiled.
As I make my away from my current train wreck, I can reflect on what I have learned and use it to move forward... throwing another person's drink right back in his face.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Dude... I just got dumped on Facebook.
So the other day my mother is telling a story about a boy that I was friends with in primary school. I open up my Facebook account so I can show her pictures of him and his family and the unimagineable has happened... he has "unfriended" me. No warning. No message. Just a click of the button and he has declared us "unfriends." The emotions that I feel: confusion, shock, hurt, dismay... ambivalence?
From a logical point of view, I stop and think: "This is someone I haven't had any type of relationship with or even seen in about 27 years so why exactly do I need to know what is going on in his life?" Like seriously. This is dumb. From the emotional point of view I cry out: "WHY ME????"
I mean... let's face it. Rejection is rejection. Having someone "unfriend" you is just cyber talk for getting dumped. No one wants to be dumped... even if it is by someone you haven't had a conversation with in 25 or so years. But it's just so cold. No reason given. No explanation. Just like a real-live dumping, the dumpee is left wondering: "Was it something I posted? Did he just grow tired of having me on his list of 300 plus friends? Did I not fit in with those 300 other people? Did he not like the one and only comment I ever made on a photo he posted in the five years that we had been 'friends'? Was it a mistake? An inadvertent click of the button? Or was it him and not me?"
What is the etiquette for this? Do I message him? Do I cyberstalk him to get my answer? Do I track him down in real life and demand an explanation? Or do I just walk away with my head held high and hope no one noticed? Is it too vindictive to "block" him? Should I track down all the other people we knew in primary school and "friend" them before he does? What do I do??????
Surely we should develop some sort of "code" for this and bring back the humaneness to being dumped. Rather than just a click of the button to "unfriend" someone, I suggest that we have options to click on such as:
From a logical point of view, I stop and think: "This is someone I haven't had any type of relationship with or even seen in about 27 years so why exactly do I need to know what is going on in his life?" Like seriously. This is dumb. From the emotional point of view I cry out: "WHY ME????"
I mean... let's face it. Rejection is rejection. Having someone "unfriend" you is just cyber talk for getting dumped. No one wants to be dumped... even if it is by someone you haven't had a conversation with in 25 or so years. But it's just so cold. No reason given. No explanation. Just like a real-live dumping, the dumpee is left wondering: "Was it something I posted? Did he just grow tired of having me on his list of 300 plus friends? Did I not fit in with those 300 other people? Did he not like the one and only comment I ever made on a photo he posted in the five years that we had been 'friends'? Was it a mistake? An inadvertent click of the button? Or was it him and not me?"
What is the etiquette for this? Do I message him? Do I cyberstalk him to get my answer? Do I track him down in real life and demand an explanation? Or do I just walk away with my head held high and hope no one noticed? Is it too vindictive to "block" him? Should I track down all the other people we knew in primary school and "friend" them before he does? What do I do??????
Surely we should develop some sort of "code" for this and bring back the humaneness to being dumped. Rather than just a click of the button to "unfriend" someone, I suggest that we have options to click on such as:
- We no longer share the same values.
- I don't want any reminders of my childhood.
- You're much too good looking for me now.
- My spouse is jealous of your existence on Facebook.
- My life is too busy right now but I hope to "friend" you later.
- It's not you, it's me.
- Who the hell are you?
Thursday, January 27, 2011
And Now for the Obligatory RCMP Rant...
Dear Constable Bowwow,I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for opening my eyes yesterday to my criminal activity these past three years. I was sickened and ashamed to learn that I have been an active participant in - even if I had absolutely no clue - a massive crime spree throughout B.C.
When you drove past me yesterday and made direct eye contact, I thought we had made a real human connection. Luckily, for the safety of our community, you were on the look out for criminals and our direct eye contact was not clear enough for you. Putting on your lights and sirens while pulling a U-turn at a four way intersection and chasing me down shows me (and many others) the dedication you have to stopping crime.
Hearing that you weren't "too sure" about my criminal windows and the commitment you showed to finding out (not actually being able to tell by looking through the glass but having to hunt for the telltale line of tinting film) makes me appreciate the tax dollars I contribute to pay your salary. When I told you that I wasn't aware of any violation of the Motor Vehicle Act by a car I purchased directly from a reputable dealer, I really appreciated hearing that you stop and catch violators (what a fun term to use for unsuspecting law abiding community members) like myself every day. Stopping crime and educating criminals is such noble work and I am sure your mother is proud of the effort you make every day - by catching criminals like me - to make our world a safer place to raise our children.
In fact, knowing that officers like you are working hard to stop these heinous crimes allowed me to feel so safe in my community last night, I slept with my door unlocked.
Having been committing this crime for three years and having come into contact with many, many police officers through such frivolous things as safety belt checks and road blocks, makes me question their commitment to keeping our streets safe from real criminals like me. How can they call themselves safety officers if they knowingly turned a blind eye to someone committing such a heinous act? Shame on them.
As Kash Heed looks to be leaving politics, it seems we are in desperate need of another safety officer moving into politics for the "betterment" of our provincial community. Think about it. We need dedicated people exactly like you in Victoria - in fact, you will find many like-minded thinkers there already.
Looking forward to thanking you in person during that pesky appeal process.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Give thanks to the next in line...
When a relationship ends, for whatever reason, the man will move on first. Nine times out of 10 this is what happens (I'm not quoting any actual study for this statistic). And why is that? One simple reason: women are stupid. Or, more specifically, the next woman in line is stupid. You all know who this is; the woman who rushes in and replaces you.
So, next time a relationship ends and you feel used/manipulated/taken advantage of/(insert something else here) and you come away feeling stupid, don't. Rather, take a moment and think about it: you didn't know what you know now but that woman next in line - what the hell is she thinking? You're not the real moron in all of this - the next in line is.
Having trouble understanding what I'm saying? I'll use the case of Sandra Bullock/Jesse James/Kat von D to illustrate my point. Jesse James, already divorced with two kids, marries, has a baby with and divorces a porn star. Probably not the best choices - a bit of a bad boy. Enter Sandra Bullock - never married, America's sweetheart and, apparently, totally naive. Gosh, turns out James cheats on his new wife with not one but several women. Shame on him. Bullock, humiliated, divorces him and leaves town. Who can blame her? How dumb does she feel? She shouldn't worry because enter from stage left Kat von D. The next in line. The ultimate moron who gets engaged to him and believes his bull shit line of "2010 was the best year ever!" Sandra Bullock can lay her head down every night knowing that she is, without a doubt, not the dumbest woman in the world. In her world, that title goes to Kat von D.
The next in line walks into a disaster zone probably thinking she can fix everything and save the day without the sense to put on a hard hat or safety gloves. Even if the man is standing there holding the match and the gas can, the next in line believes the good old standby of "It wasn't me, it was her. I did everything I could to save the..." Although it is a complete disaster zone and there doesn't seem to be any insurance to help with repairs, the next in line moves in and stands by her man blindly waiting for the clean up crew who will never come.
We all know these women: the ones who live with men who remain stubbornly married to their wives, the ones who lend money to their men based on empty promises of repayment, and the ones who believe that the cheaters will never do anything like that to them...
So when your relationship ends you should give thanks to those women entering from stage left for making you look a little less stupid.
How to recover? Buy a great pair of boots, go to brunch, sue his sociopathic ass off and wait... for your turn to be the next in line.
So, next time a relationship ends and you feel used/manipulated/taken advantage of/(insert something else here) and you come away feeling stupid, don't. Rather, take a moment and think about it: you didn't know what you know now but that woman next in line - what the hell is she thinking? You're not the real moron in all of this - the next in line is.
Having trouble understanding what I'm saying? I'll use the case of Sandra Bullock/Jesse James/Kat von D to illustrate my point. Jesse James, already divorced with two kids, marries, has a baby with and divorces a porn star. Probably not the best choices - a bit of a bad boy. Enter Sandra Bullock - never married, America's sweetheart and, apparently, totally naive. Gosh, turns out James cheats on his new wife with not one but several women. Shame on him. Bullock, humiliated, divorces him and leaves town. Who can blame her? How dumb does she feel? She shouldn't worry because enter from stage left Kat von D. The next in line. The ultimate moron who gets engaged to him and believes his bull shit line of "2010 was the best year ever!" Sandra Bullock can lay her head down every night knowing that she is, without a doubt, not the dumbest woman in the world. In her world, that title goes to Kat von D.
The next in line walks into a disaster zone probably thinking she can fix everything and save the day without the sense to put on a hard hat or safety gloves. Even if the man is standing there holding the match and the gas can, the next in line believes the good old standby of "It wasn't me, it was her. I did everything I could to save the..." Although it is a complete disaster zone and there doesn't seem to be any insurance to help with repairs, the next in line moves in and stands by her man blindly waiting for the clean up crew who will never come.
We all know these women: the ones who live with men who remain stubbornly married to their wives, the ones who lend money to their men based on empty promises of repayment, and the ones who believe that the cheaters will never do anything like that to them...
So when your relationship ends you should give thanks to those women entering from stage left for making you look a little less stupid.
How to recover? Buy a great pair of boots, go to brunch, sue his sociopathic ass off and wait... for your turn to be the next in line.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Oh, Little Billy, if you only knew...
Out of the blue today, a boy in the grade six class: "Is it true what they say about life basically sucking once you get out of school?" I was truly taken back but it got me thinking...
What is life like once you become an adult? It is sort of like the fourth installment of the Indiana Jones series. You wait for nearly twenty years for it to happen; you dream; you imagine. You are so excited about what is in store that you are impatient for it to begin. You picture grand adventures, a ruggedly handsome man, romance, answers to great mysteries and an ending that leaves you satisfied. And then it arrives...
At first, you are impressed with the adventure - maybe not what you imagined but an adventure nonetheless. There is travel and the ruggedly handsome man. Perhaps he's not quite how you imagined but he is there. There is conflict but it is part of the adventure, the mystery. What the heck? What would life be like if there wasn't conflict? As the adventure continues, you start to wonder: really? You begin to look around at the others in the theatre - those people who have also spent twenty years waiting for this moment in time - and you wonder if they are beginning to have doubts just like you. You wait and you wait. Your doubt grows and now you're feeling a little confused. It all seems a little too farfetched and definitely NOT what you had waited for. You start to shake your head at the absurdity of it but, you look around, and everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves. Only later will you find out that their smiles were only masking their growing concern over the nonesense they were witnessing. In the end the fanstasy is shattered - you are not happy; you stand and scream "REWRITE." You leave the theatre dazed and confused and feel extremely let down by the creator - not what you had imagined and not what you believe you were promised. The ruggedly handsome man is just old, the adventure is lame and there are these foreign beings thrown in just to confuse the hell out of you (as a woman you realize that these foreign beings are just men in gowns).
But do I say anything of this to little Billy who is looking for reassurance to a question that is obviously troubling him? Of course not, you continue with your adult duty to reassure and distract the youth - to perpetuate the myth that adulthood will be this wonderful kingdom full of safe adventure and the people of our dreams.
Instead I say, "Funny you should ask that. I'm currently working with teenagers to help them make decisions about their life after high school that will assist them in reaching their long-term goals once they are adults. I begin by asking them: What is worse? Going to school for six months to a few years to increase your earning potential and help make all your dreams come true or to wake up one day, at 25, and realize you still work at Dairy Queen?"
He sighs relief and responds: "I'm so glad you said that. That is what my dad says. He is an electrician and makes a lot of money."
I smile my teacher smile: "I'm happy that I was able to answer your question. And now I have one for you... is your dad single?"
Rewrites are always possible; you just have to realize the crap when you see it and refuse to accept it.
What is life like once you become an adult? It is sort of like the fourth installment of the Indiana Jones series. You wait for nearly twenty years for it to happen; you dream; you imagine. You are so excited about what is in store that you are impatient for it to begin. You picture grand adventures, a ruggedly handsome man, romance, answers to great mysteries and an ending that leaves you satisfied. And then it arrives...
At first, you are impressed with the adventure - maybe not what you imagined but an adventure nonetheless. There is travel and the ruggedly handsome man. Perhaps he's not quite how you imagined but he is there. There is conflict but it is part of the adventure, the mystery. What the heck? What would life be like if there wasn't conflict? As the adventure continues, you start to wonder: really? You begin to look around at the others in the theatre - those people who have also spent twenty years waiting for this moment in time - and you wonder if they are beginning to have doubts just like you. You wait and you wait. Your doubt grows and now you're feeling a little confused. It all seems a little too farfetched and definitely NOT what you had waited for. You start to shake your head at the absurdity of it but, you look around, and everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves. Only later will you find out that their smiles were only masking their growing concern over the nonesense they were witnessing. In the end the fanstasy is shattered - you are not happy; you stand and scream "REWRITE." You leave the theatre dazed and confused and feel extremely let down by the creator - not what you had imagined and not what you believe you were promised. The ruggedly handsome man is just old, the adventure is lame and there are these foreign beings thrown in just to confuse the hell out of you (as a woman you realize that these foreign beings are just men in gowns).
But do I say anything of this to little Billy who is looking for reassurance to a question that is obviously troubling him? Of course not, you continue with your adult duty to reassure and distract the youth - to perpetuate the myth that adulthood will be this wonderful kingdom full of safe adventure and the people of our dreams.
Instead I say, "Funny you should ask that. I'm currently working with teenagers to help them make decisions about their life after high school that will assist them in reaching their long-term goals once they are adults. I begin by asking them: What is worse? Going to school for six months to a few years to increase your earning potential and help make all your dreams come true or to wake up one day, at 25, and realize you still work at Dairy Queen?"
He sighs relief and responds: "I'm so glad you said that. That is what my dad says. He is an electrician and makes a lot of money."
I smile my teacher smile: "I'm happy that I was able to answer your question. And now I have one for you... is your dad single?"
Rewrites are always possible; you just have to realize the crap when you see it and refuse to accept it.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Beat it, Janet Fan and neighbours... the dying should protest being next door to you.
I actually had to read the article twice. I just couldn't believe this was true. http://www.theprovince.com/health/Angry+residents+planning+protest/4101617/story.html
Here is my disclaimer: I embrace the mutlicultural nature of Vancouver. I appreciate that everyone who lives in this wonderful area has something great to contribute. However, I also recognize that there is a reason you are choosing to live here and not somewhere else and that, sometimes, parts of that culture need to be left behind. So, when someone goes on the front page of the provincial paper angry over a hospice being built next door to her high-end highrise condo and states:
I get absolutely worked up about such insensitive bull shit.
Gosh. I'm sorry that someone's terminal illness might bring you bad luck. I mean: seriously? You live on the 17th floor - how will you be infected?
The residents are concerned about being in such close proximity to death. What happens if someone dies in the building? Does everyone move?
Fan goes on to say: "we don't want this hospice and how enraged, angry and shocked we are." Gosh, if you're enraged, angry and shocked - imagine how the families of people who require hospice care must feel when their entire worlds are turned around by the tragedy of terminal illness. These people are DYING - they are not murderers, pedophiles or politicians... they are people who require care and compassion.
Another neighbour, Angela Gao, worries "My kids and I are going to feel so frightened and angry just to think there are dying people so close to us." Once again, you are in a high rise and they are in another building. And if you're frightened and angry about their dying, imagine how they must feel? My child and I feel scared that such people like you are so greedy and callous and that you are raising your children to be the same.
Cultural "taboos" aside: I think we get to real issue of the resident's concerns further down in the article when residents start talking about how they paid nearly $1 million and they are concerned about their property value.
So why don't we just cut the crap and be honest? If it would raise your property value, you'd all be cheering your heads off. Don't hide your greed behind your culture - where is your decency as a human being???
Here is my disclaimer: I embrace the mutlicultural nature of Vancouver. I appreciate that everyone who lives in this wonderful area has something great to contribute. However, I also recognize that there is a reason you are choosing to live here and not somewhere else and that, sometimes, parts of that culture need to be left behind. So, when someone goes on the front page of the provincial paper angry over a hospice being built next door to her high-end highrise condo and states:
I get absolutely worked up about such insensitive bull shit.
Gosh. I'm sorry that someone's terminal illness might bring you bad luck. I mean: seriously? You live on the 17th floor - how will you be infected?
The residents are concerned about being in such close proximity to death. What happens if someone dies in the building? Does everyone move?
Fan goes on to say: "we don't want this hospice and how enraged, angry and shocked we are." Gosh, if you're enraged, angry and shocked - imagine how the families of people who require hospice care must feel when their entire worlds are turned around by the tragedy of terminal illness. These people are DYING - they are not murderers, pedophiles or politicians... they are people who require care and compassion.
Another neighbour, Angela Gao, worries "My kids and I are going to feel so frightened and angry just to think there are dying people so close to us." Once again, you are in a high rise and they are in another building. And if you're frightened and angry about their dying, imagine how they must feel? My child and I feel scared that such people like you are so greedy and callous and that you are raising your children to be the same.
Cultural "taboos" aside: I think we get to real issue of the resident's concerns further down in the article when residents start talking about how they paid nearly $1 million and they are concerned about their property value.
So why don't we just cut the crap and be honest? If it would raise your property value, you'd all be cheering your heads off. Don't hide your greed behind your culture - where is your decency as a human being???
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
God Bless Celebrities...
Somebody asked me once why I was constantly following entertainment news. I think my reasons for being enthralled by everything "Hollywood" has changed over time. Now, I simply find it hilarious - funnier than sitcoms simply because these people aren't trying to be amusing, they are actually serious. It is wittier than anything that a sitcom writer could come up with.
Case in point: last week there was a "news" special on television entitled Celebrity Weight Loss. This was so funny on so many levels. Since it's the beginning of the year and 99.33333% of women around the world have all pledged to lose weight in 2011, I am excited for this program. Surely it will provide me with all the insight I need to look exactly like Jennifer Aniston. I am giddy with anticipation on this "news" program providing me with all the secrets.
Disappointment Number 1: a bunch of people I don't know rate celebrity diets based on health related issues. BORING. Who cares? Why not rate it on effectiveness and WHERE are the secrets? None. Zilch.
Disappointment Number 2: the celebrities profiled are Rikki Lake and Kendra Wilkinson. Uuummm...was Carnie Wilson busy or something?
The good news is that these two women were hilarious without even trying.
Rikki Lake reveals her secret to losing one hundred pounds in something crazy like six months or something. Impressive. What is the secret? Starving herself. She starved herself for six months and lost one hundred pounds. She ends her disclosure with "Although it was effective and I've kept the weight off for more than 10 years, I don't really recommend it." So you've just told a continent of overweight women that starving yourself is effective but you don't recommend it. Seriously? I think all the women are going to hear is... 100 lbs less than six months. But thanks for letting us know that you don't endorse it even though you talked about how it really worked for you on an internationally broadcast program.
Kendra Wilkinson... oh! where to begin? Kendra Wilkinson sincerely sat all teary eyed and talked about how hard it was for her to be on television after gaining 60 lbs during her pregnancy, how it was hard to get back into shape, and listening to people make fun of her. Okay. Well I sympathize with her. I mean, after all, she didn't choose to expose her life to the general public. I mean - who thought people would actually watch her "reality" show? How did she know that all those cameras following her around the house would actually capture her overeating and the muffin top waistline over her lulus? I mean. She was a playmate - she probably didn't know that all those shiny things capture your image and have the ability to replay it over and over again.
However, I am happy to report that Kendra has overcome all the insecurities brought about the criticism. She proudly stated to the interviewer that she is perfectly content with her post-baby body... that she has grown from this and is no longer the body-obsessed woman she was when she lived at the Playboy mansion. She is going to wait until after her second baby to have all the cosmetic surgery done... so that she can feel truly beautiful... and she deserves it. Wow! What growth.
I am truly humbled by the wisdom and insight these two "celebrities" shared with us... and thankful, once again, that a celebrity opening their mouth is even funnier than a stand up comedien.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Get a room Christy and Pamela... preferably in a different province.
AAAAGGGGHHHHHH! I don't think there is a person who irks me more than Christy Clark... and, from someone with three exes, that it saying a lot.
The love fest that these two women publicly shared yesterday annoyed and irritated me to my very core. When Martin announced that it was time for a woman to be premier and that she felt Clark was the best candidate... my first questions were: is it because she offered you a job, were you too lazy to look at other options or did you just want Clark's bullying "Pick me! Pick me!" squawking to stop? Everything about this announcement was sexist towards women... coordinated outfits (seriously? did you call each other the night before?), lack of anything concrete in terms of a platform and a basically "C'mon, guys, you HAVE to give a girl a turn..." approach to politics.
Clark has ditched her husband - hello? Is someone thinking she has to distance herself from his BC Rail shenanigans, grab as much money as she can and dump that dead weight? But she is all for family values... as long as they don't interfere with her power hungry quest to destroy the province... but at least she'd be the first female premier... yay! for girls.... we already experienced Kimmy Campbell so I think we're good.
As someone who has become fairly good at weeding out those misrepresentations - uuummmm everyone is familiar with my last personal relationship - the red flags go up when I read her bio...
"Like her parents, Christy has an extensive record of community involvement and leadership for British Columbia’s families." But there is no list of what they are... maybe she means the per pupil funding policy she supported for public education? Because that was a HUGE success. It had to be a tremendous success since she sends her kid to private school.
"Christy studied at Simon Fraser University, the University of Edinburgh, and at the Université de la Sorbonne in Paris." Uuummm... what did she study? And where is her list of oh-so-impressive credentials? C'mon, we all love the little initials after our name and we all know that Christy loves to honk her own horn so what does an absence of credentials tell you?
Don't get me wrong... I did the happy dance when Gordo announced his departure but do we really want to fully hang ourselves as a province and let this power hungry education hating moron in? The only thing grosser would be the greasy rock star wannabe known as Kevin Falcon...
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Bathroom Break or Restroom Respite?
Having just returned from 11 days in the U.S., I am constantly amazed at how much we truly differ from our neighbours south of the border. Little things that really set us apart...
For instance, in 11 days and four states, never once did I come across a dirty public toilet facility for women (not able to comment on men's facilities for obvious reasons). And, yet, at home, I rarely, IF EVER, find a clean public toilet facility.
Why is that? Why, as a nation of smart, educated and generally tidy women are we seemingly incapable of keeping our public toilet facilities clean? If we are known around the world for being polite, shouldn't that politeness extend to keeping the stall free from wet and dry debris for the next user? Does something come over us when we step into these stalls that makes us think "Sweet. I don't have to clean it so let's leave the dirtiest, filthiest mess I can think of in the next thirty seconds"? And what is with our aim? It's a HUGE target so why the hell don't we hit it?
Seriously, ladies... step it up and wipe it up.
And have we ever stopped to think why we call them: restrooms, washrooms or bathrooms? When we are out in public, we do not rest, wash or bath in these rooms.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
January 4, 2011 Live from Las Vegas
It is just after noon and we are in Las Vegas. Traveling with a kid can be fun and also not so fun. For instance, it is a beautiful sunny day in Las Vegas and I am in a hotel room on the 32nd floor of Circus Circus. My child claims to have a stomache ache which can only be soothed by lying down and playing his PSP. This presents me with a dilemna. I can buy his story and sit here looking out the window delaying the unenviable afternoon of arcading it down the Strip or I can call his bluff and head out early for an even longer afternoon of arcading it down the Strip. What to do?
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