The Testosterone Pit

So I arrive home from work Saturday and I find my hubby and all three sons hunkered down in the rec room watching the televisions. No that is not a typo - - - you read correctly - -- T.V.'s as in more than one. They had set up an additional t.v. beside the big one that usually resides there. Why? So they can watch each and every minute of the BC Lions football game AND the Vancouver Canucks game. Following their initial outrage at two home teams schedules overlapping, they devised a way in which they could simultaneously view both games.

Oh, did I mention there was also power tools on the coffee table? Seriously. Two games, one workshop project, audible body emissions, and beer.

Is it any wonder I retreated (quickly....very very quickly) upstairs and sat myself down in front of the remaining tv for a marathon session of 'Say Yes to the Dress' accompanied by pink fruity alcoholic drinks???? I think not.

Hey Doc! I have a new place for you to put your stethoscope........

My doctor used to say to me, "You are getting to that age........" and now he says, "Well, you know, you are at that age.............." and I truly want to demonstrate the creative ways I can utilize his blood pressure cuff, hypodermic needles, and chillingly cold stethoscope on his esteemed medical being.

I don't need a family doctor; I need a good spin doctor.

ARCHIE PERFERS BLONDES??????

***Addendum to August Blog regarding Archie proposing to Veronica: http://andyouthoughtyourlifewasboring.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-not-cool.html

Okay, just when my outrage had started to abate and I figured maybe the fickle Archie actually does deserve the shallow, self-absorbed, vindictive Veronica as his bride it appears that maybe they won't be walking down the aisle after all. Apparently Archie is engulfed in a dream-like episode (six parts! All at your nearby participating comic book dealer!) where he arrives at a fork in the road (I'm going to call it Epiphany Corner) where one path leads to a married life with Veronica, the other with Betty. His dream-like state has him travelling both roads where you can discover all the colourful details in the accompanying comic books. Each scenerio has him as the father of twins.

It does make one wonder though: Archie has known both these women for several decades now --if his indecisiveness can only be resolved through a dream-like mode then how will he ever know which twin he just fed and which is still hungry?

This all leaves me feeling rather unsettled and uncomfortable. I think I am headed back to those issues featuring Hawkman. No wishywashiness there. Just wicked wings, edgy head gear, and a great body. No decades long period followed by a floaty reverie to make important decisions --- no, Hawkman knows what he wants and goes after it full speed ahead.

It helps that he can get there by flying on his own power rather than in an old Model A jalopy.

Croak on this!

Test your brain power on this little puzzler: http://funstufftosee.com/frogleaptest.html

...Corey got it immediately

...Toban was right behind him

...Me? Even with a major hint I still have yet to get it. . . . . .

I can give you a hint/clue if you want......just email me or leave a comment.

Good Luck! Have fun!

A SLICE*

On the back of my disposable Starbucks cup:

Hypocrisy is annoying but not evil.
Someone who says one thing

and does another has doubled

their chances of being half right.

*A slice: the_orgin

Front Page News???!! Seriously?

Today's front page of The Vancouver Sun featured a large photo displaying the marriage of Mats Sundin and Josephine Johansson. While I like wedding photos as much as any regular viewer of 'Say Yes to the Dress,*' I found having this photo on the front page to be misplaced and glaringly out-of-context.

Mats Sundin was a Vancouver Canuck for what?...five, maybe six months? His marital status is of little consequence to me and truthfully I'm not sure it's even deserving of short blurb in the sports section.

I am fully aware this type of irrelevant tabloid newspaper journalism is common fare with The Vancouver Province but I expect the level of noteworthy news to be a bit more professional at The Vancouver Sun.

What can we expect next?
John and Kate and the lastest minutiae of their lives?

However I will admit that part of me is shocked that Mats Sundin was able to say 'I do' .... it seems it is a phrase that he needs a lot of time to consider before he can actually commit to expressing it............

*For info about the show click here.

So NOT Cool!

Anyone else still upset about the Archie/Betty/Veronica fiasco????? Because I am. Shocked actually.

When I was a kid comics were part of childhood. Every corner store* stocked them and they could be purchased for 11 cents (25 cents for a double issue). Nowadays you generally have to frequent a speciality store and be prepared to fork over a healthy lump sum for even a single issue.

I read superhero issues (Hawkman was my favorite), Little Lulu, Richie, Archie, and pretty much any other kind I could get my hands on.

I preferred Betty over Veronica. I usually root for the brunette since invariably she is the maligned one but in this case it was impossible not to like Betty. She was sweet, kind, helpful and all without being cloying or annoying. Veronica was manipulative, sneaky, ungracious and basically a bit of a back-stabbing bitch.

I was shocked this past May when Archie not only finally proposed marriage but to Veronica????? VERONICA???? She was destined to be with Reggie, the equally duplicitous and egomaniac character. This August Veronica accepted Archie's proposal leaving the wide-eyed Betty devastated.

It simply is all too much; rather than providing gentle mindless entertainment, Archie has moved into the spectrum of hideous reality-type scripting ..... I fully expect Kate or John to invite the newlyweds over for a playground with the kiddies, nannies, and inevitable paparazzi.

As for Betty? If I could only find a way to introduce her to Hawkman...............

*Every neighborhood had a 'corner' store that was conveniently located, yes, on a corner and was a Mom & Pop business. It was usually owned by an Asian family who got to you know you by name. Pop bottles were glass and were stored in a large electrical cooler filled with cold water -- towel nearby for easy drying -- that had a built-in opener on the side.

Penny candy was a basic ware in all corner stores and it was common for kids to make the corner store an outing. A dime was all that was needed to fill a little paper bag of candy. Candy strawberries and bananas, caramels, licorice whips, bubble gum were standards.

Glazed doughnuts and eclairs were also stocked on the counter. This I knew too well; once when buying a Columbian paper for my parents when The Vancouver Sun was on strike, I accidentally knocked the entire carton of doughnuts down and was aghast. The owner however merely frowned and waved me on my way.

Nowadays 'the corner store' has been replaced by 7 11's and Macs and other chain stores. Similar convenience but I wonder today if kids have the same sense of wonder that we had when clutching a whole quarter in our hands and trying to decide all the things we could purchase. Those days it was okay for a group of kids to walk down the corner store and maybe then to wander over to the playground.

An afternoon with penny candy, a comic book, the monkey bars, all shared with a friend.

Simple times. Good times.

Summer Hell

***Delayed Blog on account of energy reserves being overcome by heatwave and unable to publish until cooler weather prevailed and prompted energy reserves to return to normal.

Okay first of all let me qualify this by saying that all through our past winter (which some, although definitely not me, would say was far too long) I did not once complain. Not once. Not about the cold, (invigorating) the snow, (magical) more snow, (still magical) nor the freezing temperatures (pretty icicles). I did not complain when the rains came, grey skies, and damp days. I love it all. I am a West Coast Gal and love the weather, evergreen trees, and skies that are part of that package.
Yes.
Really.
So now, I feel that I can quite rightfully complain about this mind-numbing energy-zapping sweat-inducing heat wave we have been currently experienced. Ugh! Ugh! And still Ugh!
I am not a fan of sweating (is anyone????) and to feel rivulets dripping off of me in the shade standing still makes me feel grungy, icky, and gross.

I feel true empathy for anyone having to ride transit and forced in close proximity to all those raised sopping reeking underarms.
I also feel unsurpassed sympathy for wee babies, pregnant women, the elderly, roofers, road construction crews, anyone working in a kitchen, bridal parties, mascots, and berry pickers. Daily chores seem like major projects and unfortunately some tasks do not disappear simply because 'it is too hot.' .....ie, laundry, grocery shopping, meals, appointments, etc.
The heat defeats me, zapping all my energy reserves (which are usually on the endangered list at the best of times) and leaves me a dripping whining puddle of irritability and lethargy.

Random Idle Thoughts Concerning High Temperatures:

***The heat seems to make people crankier and more irritable. Are violent acts and crime rates higher in tropical places? Or perhaps lower due to the fact the required energy to execute any crimes is just too much in the intense heat?
I know that even the required steps in would take me to cover the distance from the couch to the freezer to retrieve a popsicle is just too much effort let alone holding up the local ice-cream truck. (Ha ha ha---wonder if the driver would be confused it you yelled at him to 'Freeze.'...................see this heat has even affected my sense of what amuses me and now I am dangerously teetering into the cornball area).

***Has anyone tried the egg thing? You know where you crack an egg on hot pavement and see if it sizzles? I am dying to try it but again, lack the energy to carry out the steps.

***Applying makeup: Is there some sort of secret tip that I am not aware of about regarding the application of makeup in the heat? After 30 seconds I can feel it melting and coating my face in an image worthy for Halloween. And not wearing any at all would also be an image worthy for Halloween.
What would Gene Simmons do?

***The newspaper reported that eating spicy hot food will actually cause you to cool off more than a cool drink because it will cause you to sweat thereby cooling your body down. Um, did they miss the fact that this heat already has induced the heaviest slickest sweats and yet we are still languishing in discomfort?

Personally I think it would be more proactive to have that cool drink, or a couple, (may I suggest mojitos...so very refreshing) in a air conditioned restaurant, bar, or club.

PART TWO: Saga of the Used Pants.

Some of you were under the impression that I was the owner of the used pants and in a quandary as to what to do with them but this is not the case. No, fair readers, I was not the consumer but rather the sales associate that was subjected to dealing with the customer who bought the pants, wore the pants, and then demanded a refund.

Cyber Print Reenactment (Sort of):

Customer and his wife approach my counter. They proceed to show me two pairs of navy pants, all tags removed, and want a refund. They have a receipt.The pants have been worn. More than once - they have that 'broken in' softness that comes from repeated washings. I ask them their reason for returning them. Apparently the man bought them for a training course for a job (in law enforcement) and then later his employers gave him an uniform so he no longer needs the pants.

Not sure why this is the store's problem. They pants are not defective. They have been worn so they are no longer sellable. I tell him we cannot take them back. There is nothing defective with the pants, they have been worn and we can no longer sell them. He informs me that 'Yes we can because they are like new.'

I respond by asking him if he would like to buy something from this store that someone has worn several times and has been used.
Not surprisingly he doesn't care for this line of questioning and avoids giving me a direct response. He does tell me however that the store should just suck it up and give him a refund because they are a big company.
I'm a little taken back; the guy buys a product, uses it several times, then gets similar product for free and decides that the retailer should take used product back and give him a full refund. Now, I know from all our levels of Loss Prevention Personnel and Security Teams that they despise this type of customer and basically consider such acts as criminal so I am puzzled as to what field of 'law enforcement' this guy could possibly be employed in.

His wife then asks if they could just get a gift card for the full amount but before I can even respond, her husband interrupts to say No, he doesn't want a gift card because he will never shop here again. I try to refrain from clapping and cheering.

He continues to rant becoming increasingly more obnoxious; his tattoo-covered muscle-shirt clad torso twitching angrily; and I volunteer to call a manager for him. He accepts this and while waiting for the on-duty manager (they are scheduled via rotation to have to deal with the customers from hell), I tell the whole sorry tale to another manager (out of earshot) and she says there is NO WAY this guy should get a refund.

The on-duty Manager arrives and explains: "No we cannot give refunds on merchandise that is no longer sellable that has no defects."

Customer explodes: "Yes you can sell the pants. They look fine!"

Manager calmly: "Would you buy something from here that has been worn?"

Customer: "That is not the point."

Manager: "That is exactly the point."

Obnoxious-rude-nasty-jerk-face customer rants on and on and his wife reads aloud the return policy in its entirety from the back of the receipt emphasizing the part about 'customer satisfaction.'

As I start to explain that the customer satisfaction is referring to the product, and as they were happy with the product but wanted the refund simply because they did not need them any more, her hubby points at me, makes a gesture born on a Jerry Springer stage, and orders me 'to stop talking, and that he doesn't want to hear a word out of my mouth anymore, and he is done with me.'
Before I can stop the words from leaving my mouth, I hear myself saying, "And you're in law enforcement?"

This, of course, gives him fuel for his raging fire. He rants anew with fresh indignity about the lack of customer service, the lack of professionalism, etc. I apologize immediately adding that I shouldn't have made that remark but did not care for his remark telling me to stop speaking. This does not phase him at all. He continues on in a berating insulting way and I leave the scene leaving the manager to deal with him and his pit bull mentality.

She does not give him a refund (hahahahahahaha) and later tells me that I should have probably called security since the guy was such a grade A first class JERK.

She also tells me I shouldn't have made the crack about law enforcement but that is was excellent that I apologized immediately.

And that folks, is my tale regarding the navy pants. I was curious as to what others would do in his situation but I think actually I just wanted to vent about this stupid-butt-head of a customer.

..oh and his job in law enforcement? I'm guessing the goons companies hire to intimidate legitimate strikers on their picket lines. Having witnessed some of those guys in action I am just glad they aren't armed with tasers.

Rant over.

What Would YOU Do?

Okay here's the deal: You buy a couple pairs of pants. Take them home, remove all labels, wash them, and wear them at least a couple of times. You need them for work. Eventually your employer issues you an uniform so you do not need the pants anymore. What do you do with the pants? (Plain navy blue Dockers)

Do you wear them on your own time?
Donate them to a homeless shelter?
Pass them on to a family member or friend?
Try to return them to the store?

..........just curious.

Really want to hear your feedback. Just click on comments to the south of this post. (You will have to enter your email address which will not be availabe to me so no worries about me email stalking you.)

More on this later. (Not email stalking but rather the tale of the pants).

COMPLAINING WITH CATHY............

.........although I think 'Bitchin' with Cathy' works really well too. And my family would also tell you that 'Bitchy Cathy' is unfortunately a very real phenomenon.

Perhaps some of you may remember a past post where I described my loathing for crows: Little_Black_Bombs and my announcement via my Christmas letter of organizing S.C.A.T. - - - Send Crows Away Totally.

I now have another issue regarding nature: ANTS. Those scurrying zig-zagging, darting black army of dots. Yeah, they have a certain cuteness factor, and yeah, they are relatively harmless but the same thing can be said for Alvin and the Chipmunks and I want to stomp them into submission ............ or at least make them mute. (And no, this is definitely NOT a politically correct blog).

My yard seems to be the number one travel destination of ants. They are everywhere. Marching up the apple tree's trunk, blanketing the ivy, setting up perimeters along the sidewalks. And while my research indicates that they are generally harmless they do engage in a complex and fascinating relationship with aphids.* The aphids suck the sap out of various plants and I despise anything that aids them in this behaviour.

The ants have now advanced on one of my fuchsia hanging baskets. These baskets are quite beautiful and very full and the branches are really quite long. So long in fact that some of the flowers reach down past the porch rail. The ants have taken this as an invitation to organize themselves to climb up the porch post, along the rails, and onto my plant.

This is war.

My weapons of mass destruction?

Liquid ant poison, powder ant poison, ant traps, and ant spikes.

Those malevolent little black scuttling commas seem to barely make a retreat before they are back stronger and mightier than before.

If only crows had a penchant for devouring ants..........................

*Relationship_between_ants_and_aphids

Food for the Ears

My taste in music is eclectic: I have Bobby Darren, Eminem, and Vivaldi all on one CD.

However just wanted to share a fairly new radio station with you: 104.9
Their tag line is: Greatest Hits of All Time.
Click here to check it out!

I wouldn't listen to it as a steady diet but really really enjoy now and then. Check it out....especially if you like the music from the '60's and '70's.

??????????????

Okay, the one and only person beside myself, who participated in my last poll, is driving me crazy (well, crazier). Okay; if you don't get your news from the paper, the radio, the tv, or the internet, where the hell are you getting it from????
'Cause Gertie at the grocery store ain't always the best source and the rambling mumbling guy on the corner with the sign saying 'The End is Near' isn't anywhere close to a Tony Parsons or Bill Good.
Or maybe you are just messing with me???? Pulling my leg? Yanking my chain?

No matter. I am just so grateful and delighted that someone, anyone, actually participated in the poll that I am happy. Mystified but happy.

A Tale of Two Hot Air Balloons

I think I may have hit upon a fitting punishment for Mulroney and the whole Schreiber affair: place him in Conrad Black's cell and force them to endure each other's presence for the next 18 months.

Two birds. One stone. Unlimited hot air.

Kyle is my #1 son

I'd just like to inform the world that Kyle, my first born son, is my #1 son. I should get him a mug that says #1 Son. His calm and gentle nature make him always a treat to have over. He has the poise of Barak Obama, gentleness of the Dali Lama, righteousness of Clark Kent and virtue of Gandhi. I am gracious of his presence, and willingly and thankfully, offer any morsels of food, whether opened, canned, frozen or left over, as well as any books, or other miscellaneous items that I no-doubt will never use again. I would be honoured if he were to grace my attic with his presence and help himself to any object that he may desire.

Also, if there are any meat items in my freezer - especially sasuages - I invite him to cook them still frozen at his will.

MARKED WITH AN 'X'

Elections get to me. Not just the results but the actual voting process itself. I have voted in every municipal, provincial, and federal election since my age deemed me eligible. And every single time I arrive at the polling station to vote, something uncontrollable overwhelms my emotions and I get a lump in my throat and teary-eyed. My reaction is a pure reflex response to which I do not completely understand and each time I am always a little startled by this reaction. There is something about walking into the community building and seeing an influx of all different kinds of people in the community making an effort to have their voices count. Seniors, young adults, frazzled Mom's, business people, etc, all taking the time to participate in democracy. It is something I value and the reaffirmation of seeing other people who also value it makes me feel emotional and grateful. Sure, I may not be pleased with the actual election results but I am proud and grateful that I live in a country that provides me with the opportunity to to practice democracy.

I have long wanted to be an actual part of the election day process and have often thought about volunteering to help out at a polling station. It was then with surprise several years ago a friend informed me that most of the positions are actual paid positions.
This past provincial election I was hired to be a Voting Officer. Voting Officer. Doesn't that sound official? I almost expected an uniform or cute perky hat to accompany the position. Voting Officer.

The training session was rushed with the trainer having too many people and too many topics to cover. I was also singled out as 'What NOT to wear on election day.'.................and without an accompanying $5000 Visa, and Stacey and Clinton's sage advice. What was the offending garment? My green (think bright green, like kelly green or green apple) jean jacket. Apparently it could influence voters to vote for ...............can you guess????!!!! (insert sarcasm) The Green Party. Or, gasp, imply that I was subtly but surely supporting The Green Party.

Election day arrived and I showed up at my polling station dressed in black with thermos, water, and food to begin a 15 hour day. Some people (actually many) found the day long but I enjoyed it.......I found the entire process interesting and with my book, sudokus, and crosswords, found the time went quickly. My partner (the Voting Clerk) was also very chatty and the hours sped by.

Election Day. It always makes me feel hopeful; seeing people care enough to vote. Even if they make a deliberate point to spoil their ballot they still have participated in democracy. Spoiled ballots are read and they do illustrate voter turnout.

Now, if I could just have a vote on who makes dinner..........................

Addendum to The Elusive Floor 9

Some of you, (yes YOU, I know who you are, you know who you are.. let's not kid ourselves), may have thought that my difficulty with the Elusive Floor 9 at Passport Canada was more of a CathyEmily thing and less of real practical logistics problem. Let it be known that since then, I have had two very responsible people report to me that the situation is indeed as I described it. Okay, true, they may not have ridden the elevator aimlessly like I did, but neither one of them were approached by the many security officials to inform them of the Elusive Floor 9.

What have we learned from this?

1)Namely that the only visible difference between the security officials at Passport Canada and sleeping teenagers on a weekend morning is a bright yellow jacket

2) AND that my elevator does indeed go to the top floor.

No longer SCORE but "FORE"!!!!

What can I say?...That hasn't already been said ad nauseum all around town, in bars, coffee shops, staff lunch rooms, phone-in talk shows, in the paper, at my dinner table, etc,.

I really thought they were going to go all the way. I really did. I heard this voice that sometime speaks to me and I believed. I have been known to make life decisions based on that voice and now my entire world has been shattered knowing that the voice is not infallible. I should have turned up the volume on my iPod higher and instead listened to the soothing tunes of Carole King.

They did do though much better than I initially predicted they would: back in September I had proclaimed in a rather self-righteous-know-it-all fashion that not only would the Canucks not make the playoffs but they would end up in the bottom four of the NHL. Yes, that was me much to the disappointment of Corey, the true-blue (and green and white) fan in the family. He could not believe that not only did he have to endure a mother who sings along with the car radio but also who also vocally expressed doubt in the Vancouver Canucks ability.
I must say, I was delighted to be proved wrong and very pleased that they made it to Round Two of the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

I am looking forward to next season.
And that voice? I only listen to it when it tells me I need chocolate.

DOWN BUT NOT OUT................

Chicago won two games in a row and SO CAN WE!!!!!

Poll Update

Oh man, what a tough crowd. I feel like the lone Canadian at a Sumo match looking for a Molsons, a warm toque, and Don Cherry. I see that my poll has yet to attract that elusive 4th blog reader. What do I have to do???? Drop off the friggin' doughnuts to your doorstep???? That'll never work 'cause:
A) I hate to drive
B) I am enough of a menace on the road without doughnuts to distract me
C) I don't even know if you actually like doughnuts because you haven't answered the damn poll
D) It truly is anonymous so I don't have an inkling who you are or where you live
E) I am too busy eating doughnuts (even if they aren't the infamous PNE kind)

There is still time to cast your vote!!!! Yes! Hurry! It will take only a moment! No need for any thought-provoking referendum for this style of voting....just one click and your valued opinion is recorded!

Look for NEW POLL coming SOON!

A SLICE

WEIGHT LOSS

Corey lost 10 pounds this morning.
He got his haircut.
And the evil-witch-mother who forced him, lost 10 pounds this morning as well.
She cleaned out her purse.

YET ANOTHER NEW FEATURE!!!!

YES!!! In my attempt to increase my readership (striving for that 4th reader) I have added a new fun informative feature: The Poll!
Yes the poll..............and with this one, no one will be calling you at dinner time to solicit your information. You can finish your meal in peace. (Unless of course, you are like this household and there is a constant ongoing pre/post hockey playoff analysis being hashed and rehashed with varying degrees of passion).

It can be located at the upper left-hand corner. It is anonymous.........even I can't tell who voted so you can vote in complete anonymity.

Vote away!

The Elusive Floor 9

So yesterday, armed with applications, documents and photos, I set off to Passport Canada to renew our passports. I also brought numerous maps, internet driving directions, and a list of emergency contact numbers. Any errand that takes me more than 5 kilometres out of my normal comfort zone has me thinking 'Road Trip' and thus requires 'Journey' like preparations. Cell phone battery charged: check. Water and snacks: check. Extra tube of lipstick: Check.

I arrived at Passport Canada with surprising ease and found a free parking spot conveniently close to the entrance. Upon entering the building I asked one of several security guards for directions to Passport Canada. After following a series of hallways and stairs to a lower level I arrived in a very small room with an even smaller line-up accessorized by yet another guard yelling repeatedly for us to all have our documents -In Your Hands And Ready TO GO---(I bet his first job was at the PNE: Programs! Get your Programs! Win a House! Win a Car!). In a manner of mere moments I was standing in front of a wicket having my documentation examined by a Passport official. She gave me a number and directed me to the elevators and Floor Number 9.

Off I went back up the stairs, down the hallways and past the security guards and into one of the many elevators. Pushed the Number 9 button.
Nothing.
Pushed again.
Still nothing.
Pushed repeatedly slightly more urgently. Nothing.
Notice the emergency button. Idly wonder what Jack Bauer would do.
Think of cell phone in purse. Am glad I have chosen today to wear new underwear. Am constructing plan when elevator suddenly lurches to the fourth floor. Person enters, leaves on the second floor, and now the button for the 11th floor lights up. Onward and upward.
Once alone again in this malfunctioning death trap I push 9 again.
NOTHING.
After a few moments, it hums along to the eighth floor where I exit figuring I will take the stairs to reach my destination.
NO access to stairs. None. Nada. Nil. (Would love to know what Health Canada: Heart and Stroke Foundation would have to say about this. Plus it was Earth Day only a mere day earlier.) Resignedly I reenter the elevator and delusionally think that maybe now it will work.
Nope.

As I begin to mentally construct my possible last voice mail message to Bruno (....chicken thawing in fridge, load of laundry left in washer, and stash of old $2 bills hidden) the L button lights up and I am headed for the lobby where I plan to exit and try another elevator. Doors open and before I can charge out, a young family that I recognized from the previous line-up is being heralded in by a security guard who begins to question me. He orders me to show him my Passport Canada number. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the parents move protectively in front of their children. Triumphantly I flash my number. I am allowed to remain on the elevator and the guard unlocks a switch and we are headed to the Elusive Floor 9.
Apparently this floor is OUT-OF-BOUNDS to all unauthorized people and requires the involvement of a security guard to arrive there. News Flash to Passport Canada: You need to notify the public of this little detail.

Finally I reach Floor Number 9 and am directed to a seat until my number is called. Relieved to be neither crawling through an elevator shaft nor lying at the bottom of said shaft in a crumbled heap, I enthusiastically settle myself in one of many empty chairs. I reach for my supply bag. Yes, supply bag. For, notwithstanding authorized elevator trips, I have come prepared. Water. Fruit. Granola bar. Book. Hand held Tetris game. IPod. Bring on the line-ups for I am ready!!!! While deciding which distraction to chose first, my number is called. Yes, just that quickly! The pleasant government official processes my paperwork quickly and tells me that it is a very quiet day.
My suggestion is they check the elevators: I am certain they will discover dozens of people futility attempting to reach Floor Number 9.

Reduce, Recycle, Reuse

So, did you all participate in Earth Day? Personally I am more apt to participate in a Mental Health Day but I digress. I threw only empty eco-friendly plastic recyclables (number threes) at the door-to-door salespeople banging on my door, and suggested to my customers at work that they reduce paper use by not returning their wrong-sized garments and instead recycling them by donating them to a charity. Unfortunately my manager threatened that I can be replaced .....which isn't even one of the 3 R's. But it doesn't matter, with Earth Day in mind I sold him a package of socks that had been returned. Ergo: REUSE. My day was complete.

....and now this important message from Cathy-Emily......

Enough with the irreverence of Santa's reindeer, the Seven Dwarfs, and Lindsey Lohan; time to move on to something much more serious and meaningful: the Provincial Election. Hahahahahahahah! No, Just Kidding! Something even more dear to the heart of the average British Columbian: the Vancouver Canuck's skate through the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

Four straight baby! FOUR STRAIGHT! Last night's win over St. Louis has even the most disgruntled fan jumping back on the bandwagon, waving his flag (circa 1994) and chanting 'Bobby-Lin"-------you have to forgive him, he indulged in a bit too much celebratory brew and hopefully will shout "Bobby-Lou" next game day.

ARE YOU GUYS EXCITED OR WHAT??????

Thought For the Day

WHO WOULD WIN IN A FIGHT?:

Jason Bourne or Jack Bauer?

Ironman or Batman?

Lindsey Lohan or Paris Hilton?

RE: The Answers

I enjoyed reading all your emails with the answers. I will be mailing/dropping off your prizes shortly.

Weekend Tasks

1. Name all seven dwarfs.

2. Find out if it should be dwarves instead of dwarfs.

3. Done that? Okay now name all eight of Santa's original reindeer. And no, Rudolph is not one of them.

4. And finally, name all six Brady Bunch kids. Bonus points if you can recall the names of the parents and their maid.

A SLICE

One Word: Effervescence. Say it. Say it again. Isn't it a fun word to say? Effervescence. I recently read it off the label of a wine bottle. As the level of wine became lower in the bottle, it became even more to say.

ef⋅fer⋅vesce

  –verb (used without object), -vesced, -vesc⋅ing.

1.	to give off bubbles of gas, as fermenting liquors.

2.	to issue forth in bubbles.

3.	to show enthusiasm, excitement, liveliness, etc.: The parents effervesced with pride over their new baby.

Effervescence. Just verbalizing the word makes my mouth feel all bubbly and enthusiastic.

THINGS I HAVE LEARNED WATCHING 24.......

1. Being a research scientist is an extremely dangerous job. You will likely be abducted, held against your will, forced to construct, maintain, and utilize items that will threaten mankind, and then probably killed. And all of this will be executed while you are wearing thick geeky eye wear, a lab coat, and frumpy clothes.

And no one will ever mention you again.


2. Perimeters are important. They are always establishing them, widening them, tightening them, or strengthening them. As long as no math is involved I am okay with them.


3. No matter how often I hear 'Mr'. President or 'Madam' President, they sound a little silly to me. It is reminiscent of preschoolers waving their little hands and calling out, 'Teacher, teacher!Can I go to the bathroom?????? Bobby is eating glue again!'
Does becoming a powerful head of state mean that one then loses their name??? Of course in the case of Tuiatua Tupua Tamasese Taisi Tufuga Tupuola Efi (leader of Samoa) it could be a very good thing.
And First Gentleman? Not helping either......


4. Someone needs to feed these people. They are only acting like this because they are so darn hungry. If I go more than 3 hours without food I start to get cranky. 24 hours???? My actions would likely become a little suspect and crazed as well; put a weapon in my hands and who knows what damage I could perform. Seemingly everyone on the show has a cell phone; USE it....order in if you have to. But just get some damn food! Deals will be easier to negotiate, minds will open, and peace will be more forthcoming.

5. Where are the White House cleaning staff? Has anyone ever seen them? We've all seen the place in a 24 hr. period but has anyone ever seen even one staff member vacuuming? Dusting? Anything?

6. Batman and James Bond could both benefit from a few quick lessons from Jack Bauer regarding gizmos and gadgets. Batman could retire his bulky handy-man utility belt and James Bond could lighten his expensive Armani suits by discarding all his high-tech gadgetry. Jack seems to travel light but it actuality the guy has more weapons, tools, gadgets, etc on him that those women toting those enormous purses on the old Let's Make a Deal. (*sigh* if you don't get my reference, then go back to texting your BFF regarding your latest tatt and where you're going to meet for rooibos tea.) Jack always has at his disposal when needed: a flashlight with a strong steady beam; a cell phone that has everyone's current phone number, and again, with a strong steady signal; rope; at least one gun with a limitless supply of ammunition; a sharp knife; and some sort of general all-purpose tool that can dig, cut, slice, bore, mash, serrate, and is waiting for it's own info.television slot. And he carries it all without a tool pouch, bag, wheel-on luggage; backpack, or rolling case. In fact, he doesn't even wear cargo pants.
This is a man I want to take with me shopping, for lunch, and on vacation. He can hold onto my lipstick(s), my camera, my 230 receipts that I can't seem to toss out, my cellphone, and my aspirin, without even flinching AND still have a free hand for those must have shoes on the 40% off rack.

7. Okay, this one isn't so much an observation as it is a suggestion. I think the title '24' needs to reflect the 'real time' quality of the program throughout the season. For example, after the 2 hour opening episode the next show should be titled '22.' And the start of each new episode should continue to be labelled accordingly: '17', '10,' '4,' etc including the final episode '1.'

8. And finally, while Jack can, and often does, single-handedly save the world, I cannot help but wonder if he could juggle two active toddlers, one prepubescent moody teenager, one overflowing toilet, a sick cat, and unexpected out-of-town company, with the same energy, drive, and attention to detail as he does when saving mankind from the terrorists. Something tells me he might be calling upon Batman, Bond, and The Wizard of Oz for help.

Observations Regarding Crocuses (albeit autumn ones)

I wanted to share this passage with you (the 1 or 2 people who are actually reading this blog) from Elizabeth Hay's Late Night on Air (McCelland & Stewart, 2007, pgs. 345-346):

After a while, she stood up and switched off the radio, then went to the window. Autumn crocuses splayed wide in the garden below like mauve, over-the-hill mushrooms. Or birthday candles melted down into a soft, crazy tilt. From here she could see how candle-white the stems were. Autumn crocuses were something she'd never known about until she moved into this old house in Ottawa. The small, leggy flowers expired almost as soon as they appeared. At the window she became aware of unhappy crows, their racket outside.

I love the whimsical and colourful way she describes the crocuses. From my own window I have been watching my purple ones push their way out of the earth; bright happy umbrellas braving the spring rains. And I found myself nodding my head in acknowledgement with her observations regarding the loud irritable crows.

A Slice

OMG. Seriously. I did not think it was possible to have a worse photo than the one on my passport. Even my own Mother cannot look at it without wincing. However I have now seen one that exceeds the 'Look away quickly and save yourself' reaction to said passport.

My new passport photo.

CATHY'S COMPLIMENTS (Second in a series)

This is a wonderful product. Makes even the most ragged sore torn cuticles soft and healthy. Plus it has a fresh lemony scent. A little goes a long way.

WINTER DIET*

1. Take a handful of Weetabix

2. Take an Aero Bar

3. Microwave until chocolate is melted . . .

. . . . .voila. . . . . . *AEROBIX*




...a diet that sounds like an exercise.

*Posted at Curves

ENCORE PRESENTATION

You will be bloody glad if you check out this archived post from last year.

I think the subject is timely and deserves another mention.

A Slice.......

There Are Three Things in Life I am Certain of.............

1. Death

2. Taxes

3. There will be a discussion at my dinner table involving the Vancouver Canucks.

Is That a Button Nose? And a Corn Cob Pipe?

I have a confession to make: I am loving this winter. LOVING it. Okay, before you start lobbying frozen ice balls towards me, let me qualify that statement: commuting in it sucks. I get that completely. No arguments here. But I gotta' say I love almost everything else about the snow.

I find it memorizing watching the flakes fall through the air. Sometimes they float - lazily and gently - small white ballerinas delicately performing their dance with grace and finesse. Other times they rush in a tempest of white fury hurtling toward the ground with reckless abandon. Best of all is watching this white frosty confetti at night under a street lamp, the light creating a halo for this lacy cascade. I could watch snow fall for hours. It offers me the same sense of wonder that watching waves pound against the beach does for me. A mesmerizing almost spiritual experience.

Even the air smells different when it is snowing. A scent of frosty softness --- new and unspoiled.

Things sound different as well; the snow provides an inherent cushion ---- muffling some sounds and amplifying others. The weight of the air carries with it a certain stillness --- the weight of limbs slicing through the cold air as it cries down snowy tears.

My street has been transformed into a Christmas card. Trees laden with snow, rooftops covered in a thick layer of creamy icing, the ground high with white drifts. Incredibly beautiful. Snow banks impossible to see over. Icicles adorning the lamp post. Snowman dotting the yards, their whimsical shapes providing smiles for the neighborhood.

I secretly am pleased when the forecast calls for 10, 20, 30+ centimetres of snow. I consider it a gift upon awakening and seeing that the ground has been coated with deeper and deeper snow. I am delighted when it falls and keeps on falling.
I feel genuine disappointment when the snowfall begins to abate and then stops completely. And worse, when the temperatures rise, and the thawing begins.

I even don't mind shovelling snow. I admit it can get tiresome but I suppose most things have their ying and yang.
Perhaps I would feel different if I lived somewhere else ........ like the Prairies, or up North, or wherever they experience 4+months of snowy winters and it becomes more of a nuisance to endure than a wonder to behold.
But I'm a West Coast girl where the snow is an exclamation point in our winters and one which I thoroughly enjoy.

Question of the Day.............

............ Why do elevators even NEED music?

The elevators in even some of the world's tallest buildings, the Taipie 101 in Taiwan or the Sears Tower in Chicago for example, can reach the top in a minute or less. It is within the realm of possibility that most people can amuse themselves for a minute or two without having music piped in to entertain them. Plus nowadays with MP3 players, iPods, the random singing crazy guy, gossipy office receptionists, the flirting couple in corner, etc, enough entertainment can be found to keep us from being bored for a few moments.
.............. and second question of the day......
Have you ever actually HEARD music in an elevator?

Think about it. I don't think I ever have although once I heard piped in advertising for local businesses. And once there was a trio of teenagers singing some boy band song. And of course there are always those who like to whistle..........but piped in music? Not that I can recall. Of course I am usually too busy planning my escape route in case in abruptly stops.......

A SLICE

What's the first you do when you arrive at your parent's house? After the initial hugs and greeting? You open their fridge and take a long look inside. I'm right about this aren't I? Its like an universal activity: I'm back on the mother planet and I need to check on their valuable life sustaining resources.

Age is not a factor: many of my 50+ friends tell me that as soon as they have said hello to their parents they make a bee-line for the fridge sometimes even stepping on Bowser or Fluffy in the process.

And the same friends tell me that when their 20-something children come home they too head for the fridge like it is a beacon worthy of rapt attention. And then for some, they don't stop there but continue on to check out the contents of the pantry.

Families. I think the universal sign to indicate a family should not be the outlines of two adults and two children but a large well stocked refrigerator with a family gathered around looking inside.