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.

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.

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.

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:

 "We cannot have dying people in our backyard," said rally organizer Janet Fan on Wednesday. "It's a cultural taboo to us and we cannot be close to so many dying people."

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???

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.

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...

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.

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?