Starbuckers Inc.

Yesterday I had a course to attend for work and was early so I hung out in a nearby food court reading the newspaper and killing time. About 100 feet from me was a Starbucks. At first I paid this American caffeine establishment no heed, but after awhile I found myself being interrupted every few seconds by the coffee-making employees. Oh wait, as they are also a pretentious establishment I should use the correct term: barristas.

So there was this extra peppy lid guy or drink caller-outer standing there. His job was to wipe the bottoms, lid the cup or whatever and then announce very loudly the drink that was just made: "I HAVE A VENTI HALF MOCHA CHOCA NON-FAT NON-DAIRY EXTRA WHIP RANDOM ADJECTIVES IN A FRILLY CUP REA-DEE!" On a side note, God forbid you use regular english when you order and say something like "large". You obviously understand what I'm asking for so why are you being an ass when you look down your pierced little nose, get all Italian on me and say "VEN-ti" like you're a teacher talking down to a kid?

Watching him yell out the very splashy and complicated names of the drinks while the customers were standing right in front of him reminded me of a scene in Half Baked when Scarface was at work and the cashier boomed into the mic what the customer had just ordered.

"You son-of-a-bitch, I'm right behind you. Turn around and ask me for a heifer with cheese, yo. Why you got to make me feel inferior because I'm on the grill, B? Damn!"

Seriously, nobody outside the world of Starbucks cares what the guy just ordered. Why's you gotta make it such a big deal, yo? And while I'm at it, why's your people gotta stop every once in awhile and dance a jig or howl at the moon? You're making coffee, yo, not big deals on The Wall with other big suits. If putting liquids in a cup successfully is such an achievement, do I wanna buy from you? Seriously, B.

I wonder if you go to special Starbucks school to learn how to act like a Starbucks employee. I bet they weed out the applicants to get only the best of the best, and then they churn out model employees like frothy somethingmachinnos who are now Starbucks hip, Starbucks cool and Starbucks savvy. The pseudos of society if you will. Maybe their motto is "Not quite there, but crazy styled hair". There must be manuals and such you must follow. I bet they make you snort lines of fine Columbian grind to stay chipper all the live long day too. Their CEO must be Ned Flanders and every once in awhile they go get re-Neducated! Duuude, I just figured out their whole cultish empire!

I really should shut my yap, I know of someone who works at a Starbucks and last I saw her she was pretty cool. But that was also before she was actually recruited into one of these gourmet coffee shoppes.

I wonder if there are bible verses under the rims of the cups too, yo.

Sunday Bliss

For those of you who think I'm too negative, here's one for you.

Yesterday we woke up and lolled around in bed talking and relaxing. Then we got up and went out for brunch. Stuffed ourselves silly and did a little shopping at Home Depot and Staples for house improvement stuff.

Came home and slept. Mmmmm.... We snuggled on my childhood bed and napped the entire afternoon. Iggy nestled in between our legs when he wasn't trying to nuzzle mommy and release stinky-love butt pheromones all over the room. The sun was bright and the bed was warm.

What could be a better lazy Sunday than that? Eating, sleeping and occasionally swatting the cat away from your face? Bliss.

How 'Bout No?

So you're in a situation and ask for my opinion, I give it to you. You think about it for 2.1 seconds and keep on whining about how "stuck" you are.

Don't bother me, I don't want to hear it.

A friend of mine, we'll call X was asked by a friend for a favour, it was a yes or no kind of question. Granted there are always variables that need to be considered, but it was also one of those "If you want to, say yes. If you don't want to, say no." Simple, right?

For me, yes. It's something I don't even need to think about if I don't want to do it. For X, no. X thinks anytime you say no you're being rude so therefore X must say yes even though it's not the answer X wants to give but how can X be rude and say no when it's a friend asking for a favour, even though they're not close but have known each other for a long time, and how can anyone be so rude as to say no to their friends and not fulfill the favour and besides, there are some sort of family ties, and said friend is a really nice person and makes some good ravioli and what are we talking about here???

You see how I could have so little patience for something as trivial and melodramatic as this.

Please understand that the word "no" itself is not a bad word. It's neither rude, disrespectful nor mean. There are two answers in this world, "yes" and "no", and it is totally OK to use either one of them provided you have a valid reason. All X has to do is say "Thank you for asking but I have to turn it down because: (I don't have the time/I'm not the right person for the job/of conflicting schedules/etc.)." There's no need to spin to make your answer sound better, no need to go nuts overthinking something because you're afraid to tell the truth. There are other people in this world from whom to ask a favour, y'know.

You don't need to agree with me or take my advice but let's not go in circles discussing the topic to death. When I've heard your situation 4 or 5 times already and it looks like we're rounding the corner into the 6th lap, you need to let it go. I've said my piece and at this point you're just looking for pity and pissing me off and I don't want either. Please learn to say no, it won't hurt. I promise.

Bloat

"But I have days when I feel great and then I have days when my ass won't fit in my jeans and I won't leave the house." -Kate Beckinsale

I'm having a fat and ugly day. I put on a pair of pants this morning and not only did I have to do the big suck-it-in thing (like I used to watch my mom do... !!!), when I finally forced the zipper and buttons closed I had a perma wedgie... front and back.

I remember when I was younger and finding it amusing that women had to decompress their midriffs, suffocate their internal organs and lose the ability to breathe just to put on a pair of pants. I guess it's being a slave to fashion that we want to fit into nice looking clothes. I also remember thinking to myself, "I'll never do that when I grow up. I'll stay trim and make sure I can zip up easily." I guess gravity and age are teaching me a few life lessons about the ever-changing body I had hoped I wouldn't need to learn.

I'm learning that vanity has a life-force all its own and it barely fits into a woman's ego. There will always be someone much more attractive, smarter, confident, with longer legs, bigger boobs, smaller waist, tighter butt, more curves, less curves and beauty queen-like qualities when compared to you. There will always be people you stand next to that make you feel like pigeon poo from yesterday's feast of cockroaches and grubs. I understand now why we try and jam our jiggles into pants that don't quite fit anymore, style our hair all pretty and slap on the spackle like nobody's business to smooth the wrinkles and look air-brushed beautiful. We want to feel attractive and turn heads and maybe even lusted after. Maybe if we think hard enough, we can convince ourselves and the world that we're as hot as *her*. As superficial as it is, who doesn't walk out the door without first a quick glance in the mirror?

Needless to say I had to change. I didn't think I could suffer through a whole day of squatting, stretching and wriggling around while yanking out the fabric melded into my crotch feeling like I was wearing something from the Jr. Miss store. It didn't make me feel better that I fit the second pair of pants, more like defeated. Being a smaller person you may think I'm crazy to even think this, but hey, sometimes I feel fat, ugly and unwanted too.

Queen of the Blah

I got S.A.D. I feel like Eeyore on a good day. Don't know what it is? I'll stick the link at the bottom so I won't have to explain.

Feel so blah. And tired. And blah.

I like winter, I like the cold and snow, the ice and the cutting winds that make you curse profusely in your head coz if you open your mouth to say them your teeth might freeze and fall off. It's the BRRRR of winter that makes me appreciate the SSSSS of summer, and vice versa. I like the differences in our seasons; I couldn't live in the tropics where it's hot and hotter than hell. Sooner or later I'd hate being hot and sticky all the time. There's a reason the summer is off-season in the Caribbeans.

This winter's been pretty sucky though... It's not cold, it's not warm it's muddling somewhere in between. It rains when it should snow, my garden's budding in the middle of winter and it just sucks. If I wanted to live in Vancouver I would have moved there!! What the hell.

I don't know what exactly it is. I'm just not feeling the love this season. All I want to do is hibernate in bed until I feel it's time to get up... just wanna shut down and block out the world. I feel bored a lot but there's no motivation to do anything. I have to admit I'm a lazy person but now I'm so lazy I feel like a puddle... a thick, syrupy, oozy, non-moving, non-breathing puddle.

Blah.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seasonal_affective_disorder

Public Announcement for Oral Sanity

Halitosis. Embarassing, unpleasant, fact of life.

Nobody has perfect breath, especially after an orgasm-worthy meal for the tastebuds filled with garlic, curry, chives, onion, etc. Most notibly, we've got cigarette breath, coffee breath, barf breath, morning breath and ass breath (which doesn't smell like anything in particular, just toxic); it's a whole rainbow variety of smells out there. That's why the market for chewing gum, tasty toothpastes, minty candies and mouthwash is so huge.

But really, if you notice consistently that when you're having a conversation or in a meeting with others and pick up on the following behaviours, there is a screaming loud message being broadcasted to you subtly. Nobody wants to embarass you. Really. Take notice.

> People trying desperately to smell their armpits, sleeves or collars
> People doing a lot of "mm-hmm"ing behind hands or papers conspicuously covering the whole lower half of their faces
> People who seem to exhale a whole lot more than they inhale
> People who, when they respond, sound like they are choking (we're trying not to breathe in)
> Large buffer zones at the conference table between you and everyone else
> Everyone offering you a mint, stick of gum, face shield, etc.
> Heads cocked at weird angles, but never facing you
> People who step backwards while they talk until you've backed them up literally, against a wall

If you discover that regular oral hygiene isn't working for you, go see your doctor or dentist. It could be a medical thing. It could be a diet thing. It could be that we need to install a filter at your lips so I get Brita fresh air instead of sewer breath when we talk. And please, above all else, I can hear you from 5 feet away. Let's not be able to soulfully gaze into each others' eyes while your breath tickles my ears, vapourizes my nose hairs and dissolves my trachea.

If I offer you a mint, take it. I'll do the same if you were me and I was you.

Dear Ladies...

Just a few suggestions when you use public washrooms:

> Please don't wait until the last possible moment to go if you're feeling the urge (eg. doing the poopy dance in front of the toilet while you're undoing your pants is waiting too long). The longer you wait, the higher the chances for unpleasant and messy explosions.

> Increase your fibre intake. This way, your waste material hold its shape better.

> Aim is just as important for women as it is for men.

Thank you kindly,
Stinky T

Aloha No More?

Duuude. Did you know it's possible to be allergic to pineapple? Me neither!!

I've eaten it my whole life and I love it. Yum yum! I have to admit that all the pineapple I've ever ingested came from a can. Lately though, we've been enjoying fresh pineapple from the store and today I packed some for my lunch, about 3/4 cup (which is more than I usually eat, but it's a particularly good one, so..).

I was reading the paper as I was eating, so I didn't notice anything until almost the end when my tongue felt funny. By the time I finished, my tongue felt all raw and like it was on fire. I drank some water and went to the washroom to brush my teeth, to no avail. The whole front half of my tongue was burning up! You know when you didn't listen to mom and gulped down your atomically hot soup or hot chocolate despite her cautions for you to slow down and the telltale steam rising and then you scald your tongue badly and it hurts so much you suck on ice cubes to numb the pain? That's what it felt like in this case, times 5. I sat at my computer and worked for the rest of the afternnon with my tongue hanging out of my mouth so that the cool air might heal some of the pain. If this were the cartoons there would be little bolts of lightning zapping around while my tongue went "BZZ.. BZZZ".

My co-workers asked me if I was allergic and I didn't think so, because I've never had any kind of reaction to pineapple before and didn't display any of the other common symptoms. Shortly after, my throat started hurting. What the? She asked me if it was my throat closing up and I said I didn't think so, I could still breathe. My throat just hurt like when you have a cold. Hmm... A little after that my ears started itching... like when you have a cold. And somehow your pinky finger is never small enough so that you can fully jab it in there to scratch that itch so you contemplate using your pen or letter opener, or toothpick... Oh come on. You know you've thought of doing that before!

I joked that if I dropped right there, she'd have to tell the paramedics what happened to me. I didn't want to alarm her at the time, but my chest was also feeling a little tight. I was breathing fine so I wasn't about to panic. As long as the airway's open I won't be dialling 911.

Anaphylactic shock, anyone?

My symptoms are slowly going away now. The tongue feels like a day old burn now and my throat and ears are only mildly irritated. But I guess I won't be eating anymore fresh pineapple anytime soon, unless I want to go on another bad trip with this crazy Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde tropical fruit.

They Always Come in Threes

Within these last four months I've been to three funerals. At each and every one of them I shed enough tears to fill a Kleenex box. I don't cry because it's a "girl thing" where I can't control my emotions, nor am I upset with the reality of death. Everyone eventually passes, it's part of the cycle and in this age of medicine and technology so often do we forget this fact and bemoan the ending of a life.

We take the people in our lives for granted. We forget and lose touch but there's always the thought that tomorrow we might reach out. Pick up the phone. Send some mail. Up to their doorsteps. There's no such thing as running out of time, they'll always be there. We get older each year but we'll be around forever. There's always tomorrow...

My tears are for time, past and future. The memories we shared, the long ago forgotten ones jogged into the present as I'm paying my last respects, and the time we'll never have once we dry our eyes and the dirt is laid. I realize how little we knew of each other, how we won't have anymore time to fix that. I've heard so much about you and I wanted the time to see all of that, but we'll never see where you could have been in 5 years, you'll never see my children, I'll never have you here with me again. It really is a heartfelt, tragic loss that we ran out of time. And I don't know what's worse, having known the person for a lifetime or just a little while. In any case it hurts. For me, for you and the ones you leave behind.

Should've. Would've. Could've.

I've a few years to go before I hit 30 but I can count 9 funerals. How many Kleenex boxes have I filled? I stand in front of the casket and my mind races but I have nothing to say that mirrors the jumble of emotions inside. I stare inside and wish we could rewind time and enjoy it again. I don't know how to say goodbye properly, to let the memory of you wash away. All I can think about is what we could be doing next week if you hadn't left.

It's All in Your Head, Dear

I hate taking sick days from work. It's boring to sit at home with nothing to do and feeling miserable. I don't want to be at work feeling ick, or sick for that matter so it's a no-win situation. Yesterday, on a Friday, I had to take a sick day because of a migraine. Today I'm dealing with some of the residual pain.

Migraine days are write-off days. Those are the days you lay in bed and wait for the day to end, here's how it all started.

I started getting migraines during my last year of university. It was horrible, they came out of nowhere and my first episode lasted on and off for roughly 2 weeks, mostly on. I didn't know what the heck was happening, just that XS acetaminophen wasn't working. My head throbbed, I was dizzy and nauseated, couldn't see clearly, nor do my readings because the words were literally floating around the pages. I had to drop out of a really interesting anatomy class because the microscope work was a crazy kaleidoscope of searing torture. I laid in my bed in the dark not sleeping, not eating, not moving. My mom went out and bought a case of those liquid meal replacements. She cracked open a can, stuck a straw in it and connected it to my mouth. Even though I had no appetite I knew I had to eat something and because it didn't require chewing (moving my head), I could handle the stuff.

I was finally granted an appointment with my doctor who prescribed some super drugs. They were just heavenly! The headaches went away, although the remnant migraine stayed. For several months afterwards my head felt really delicate, like it was made of glass. I couldn't move too fast, do anything strenuous, sit comfortably in Mr. Stinky's standard-transmission car or listen to music at a normal volume. Everything hurt my head and I felt any moment it would fall to pieces.

All that pain eventually went away and I celebrated the conquering of this head beast. Not so fast, my pretties. I was soon to be visited by the migraine fairy every month, on the first day of my period, it was a double whammy! On my doctor's orders I tried every kind of XS OTC pain relief and nothing worked. During this period we were living in a one-bedroom apartment. I barricaded myself in the bedroom during my episodes because I couldn't stand the smell of food, even if Mr. Stinky had cooked and eaten hours before I got home. My doctor finally prescribed me another kind of migraine drugs. Peace prevailed again.

Sometimes even those pills don't do the trick. When the little blue and yellows fail me, I turn to my super duper horse pills! They are just magical... of course they also leave me high as a kite and I'm not all that productive at work either but at least I'm mostly pain free. Ask my friends about it, I've fallen out of my chair at work and somehow managed to keep the bagel in my hand off the floor.

I don't get them quite as often or as regular as I used to which is a good thing because migraines are horrible to live with. I take my little bottles of magic wherever I go, I don't want to be caught without my safety nets.

Wait Your Damn Turn!

A few things have happened between the last post and this one that I really wanted to write about, but there are some things that just aren't meant to go online or be made public, so that's why I haven't updated in a few days. Carrying on.

So this is my latest rant. I don't want the general reader to think I'm a miserable person because I write so many angry blogs. It's just "Today was great. Nothing really interesting happened, but I love the world." doesn't catch anyone's attention, least of all mine.

One of my biggest pet peeves is people who interrupt. Yes, I'm talking to you people who won't let people finish their sentences or stories before you have to interject because you think what you're about to say is just that important. There are times when I'm having a hugely animated conversation with my friends like you wouldn't believe. We've got arms flapping around in the air for visual effect, spit flying like those ch-ch-ch sprinklers, faces red from laughing and excitement, and the most telling clue of all: words and noises coming out of our mouths. In the midst of this people will walk right up and start talking to one of us as if we had been standing there the whole time, picking our noses and waiting for life to happen.

I am just flabbergasted as to how rude people can be. What happened to saying "excuse me", "sorry to interrupt" or even just standing there waiting for the sentence to at least finish? Do you know how many times at work where I am on the phone or obviously busy with my work but someone will march on in and start talking to me or demanding assistance which, once I've heard it, really wasn't urgent at all? I have had to interrupt my calls or train of thought, I have been firm but polite in asking them to wait a minute and I have given some really terse responses. There is never any change and the next time we just hop on the same ride, doing the same routine.

I also get irritated when in the midst of a conversation someone will jump in and yell at high volumes, because I guess if you've got to interrupt you might as well make sure everyone pays full attention to you, something that really has no relevance to the original matter at hand. Say we're discussing our pets... "OH!! I HAVE A COUSIN (whom you've never met, heard of or care about) AND SHE REALLY LOVES GUESS WATCHES AND SHE'S GOT ONE THAT'S PURPLE AND THE SECOND HAND HAS A HELLO KITTY ON IT AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT A SECOND HAND IS? IT'S THE SKINNIEST POINTER IN THE WATCH THAT MOVES THE FASTEST AND IT'S SO CUTE BECAUSE NOOOOBODY ELSE HAS ONE LIKE IT AND I LOVE HER WATCH AND IF I EVER SEE ONE I'M GOING TO BUY IT. ISN'T THAT SO COOOL? DON'T YOU WANT A GUESS WATCH JUST LIKE HER? ISN'T SHE FUNNY? YOU GUYS COULD SOOO BE FRIENDS COZ YOU'RE BOTH THE SAME AGE"....... Maybe that's a poor example, but it's all I can think of right now. You get the picture. Stupid people I don't care about buying stupid watches with stupid Hello Kitty hands. That's why you interrupted me? That's why you had to screech through all the other voices and waste a whole minute (counted by Hello Kitty) of my life?

I don't understand why people think they, their needs or "contributions" are so important that they have to butt in front of others to become first in line. Don't people know how to wait anymore? I admit that I do it too, we all do, especially when we get excited. But the main thing is I try to keep that at a minimum. I try not to be so rude that the other person's spotlight somehow becomes mine. If someone's on the phone, it makes chronological and logical sense that I wait for them to finish the call before I walk in with my purpose for visiting. Of course there are always exceptions. If we're doing the "Weather's nice"......"Yep".... conversation and someone's house is burning please don't hesitate to run over and start yelling about the fire and that we need to call 911 and help whoever might still be inside.

So you. Yah, you know this is about you. Shut up and wait for your turn to talk. My life isn't about waiting around for you to pay attention to me. Learn some manners, be patient and stop butting in while I'm busy with something else that might actually be important.

Taking It Out On Cherries

It's funny how my attitude changes throughout the month. Sometimes I'm totally cool about something but a few days later just thinking about it makes me furious. Let me explain in the comfort of my anonymity.

Let's say there's a person in my life called X who loves cherries. Obsessed with cherries. X talks about nothing but cherries, buys them all the time, stuffs face with them and afterwards, tells me about every single one. Said X will tell me in detail all the kinds of cherries out there: colour, size, sweetness, nutrition value, price per pound, crazy things they tell X to do, etc. So the point is: CHERRIES RULE.

I don't mean to pick on cherries, it was just the first thing I thought of. I had to think of something I'm not really impartial to, and I'm not a fan of cherries (except Don). But for the sake of ambiguity I'm projecting my relationship with this meaningless fruit into a metaphor for something totally unrelated.

So. Some days when the conversation is all about cherries I sit there trying to stay interested and open. It's not X's fault I'm not a fan of cherries, so if it's what X likes shouldn't I as a friend (or available ear) in return partake in the cherry talk? While X is nattering on about cherries I may actually think "maybe cherries aren't so bad, I should give cherries a chance".

A few days later I might think how horrible it is that X has such an obsession with the damn fruit. Why? Why? Why? I hate cherries, stop talking about cherries, why does it have to be cherries all the time??!? I don't care how much they cost or when they're in season. Aaagghh!! I also have these stupid conversations in my head that make me more and more angry with X even though it's all imagined. But I'm angry because I know what I'm thinking could totally be reality when it comes to X.

Then maybe I know I'll be seeing X and dreading it because of my totally unprovoked anger. There's really no logic to it, but as I am a person who doesn't believe in the "I choose not to be angry, rather I will accept." crap, (come on, if it pisses you off, it pisses you off. Let it run its course instead of repressing and pretending it doesn't bother you. Otherwise you'll brood and think about it forever and isn't that worse in the long run?) I let myself be angry.

But then maybe by the time I see X my irrational anger will have dissipated and I'll look back and think "geez (self), who pissed in your oatmeal? So X loves cherries, who cares? X is still a nice person." Such is the life of the ever changing hormone(/anger) cycle I suppose.

Wanna Go Home

Counting down the minutes...

Do You Have a Will?

Not to be a downer for the festive season, but we're currently having ours drawn up. It recently hit home for us that a will is not something you make when you're old. Anyone can have it done at any age, but it becomes that much more important when you get married or live common-law.

The purpose of a will is to make sure all of your assets, no matter how modest or large, are given to who you want after your death. It is also to take care of your family so that in this time of loss they aren't also wondering what will happen to them afterwards. You can also designate the power of attorney to a specific person in the event that you need him/her to make a decision for you. For example, say you get in a car accident and fall into a coma, what will you do then?

If your spouse or common-law partner and the rest of your family don't get along, imagine the nightmare when they fight for your estate. If you both die in an accident, have you made provisions for your children? Who will raise them? Where will they live? They may be shuffled off to relatives you love, but may not be your preferred choice to care for your children.

In conclusion, a will is for your peace of mind. It settles any questions about who inherits what and leaves your family with a firm understanding as to their futures without you. Don't think because you're young you don't need one. We all know that shit happens and if you think you can make a will on your deathbed, you're in for a surprise. If the courts find you signed a will while not in a clear state of mind (being under the influence of drugs to ease the pain), your will can be deemed invalid and revoked.

Do your wills, boys and girls. Then rest easy and enjoy Christmas knowing that the ones you love will be taken care of.

The Beauty of Fur

I don't really have a stance on fur. I've seen the bloody pictures, heard the stories and watched the videos and as inhumane it can be, I'm not too preoccupied with the topic right now. I think in a world full of hardships and pain, to get worked up about every single injustice would drive me nuts.

So why are we discussing? This morning when I got on the train there was an empty seat next to a woman wearing a poofy, full length fur coat. It looked like wolf, that long white-off-white-grey kind of fur. I could be wrong as to animal, although that's not really important anymore now that it's dead. I sat down coz, whatever. It's a seat. Besides, it's not my business that she likes and can afford it.

Then I smelled it. It wasn't strong or overpowering, I can't really describe it. It somehow smelled like dead animal but not in the rotting, baking in the sun kind of odour. Maybe a little of the wet dog with the never had a bubble bath because I used to be a wild animal kind of frangrance. The smell was faint so maybe nobody else sensed it but it got me thinking, "Would I want to smell like that? Can she smell herself?"

I examined her coat when she got up to get off the train and walked behind her for awhile. The more I looked, the less attractive it seemed. As annoying as I find PETA to be most of the time, I do agree with them that wearing the skin of a dead animal is pretty disgusting. Would you want to wear the skin off of a hairy dead guy? Even if it came straight from Italy? I guess it's a status thing, like cars. But then I find those "rich people" cars laughable too, like the Mercedes-Benzs with hub caps. Zing!

Get Yer Fingers Outta There!

Yesterday as I was on my bus going home, a relatively attractive girl got on at one of the stops. I'd say she was in the 16-21 range, and I don't mind saying I checked her out a few times.

She sat across from me, but a few seats over so we weren't directly looking at each other. A few minutes after she sat down she took off one of her runners, propped her socked foot on her other knee and reached for it with her hand. At first I didn't pay too much attention coz she might've been readjusting her sock or something. We all do it. Then I saw that she was digging in between her toes quite vigorously. Ew! It wasn't a quick dig for a scratch or anything, she was going around her toes, between her toes and under her toes. Yuuuck... Then she repeated this digging with her other foot.

Through this entire exercise I couldn't help but stare. She didn't think anything of it, just looking out the window, not even being discrete. I don't even remember what expression I had on my face: poker or -->

The worst part was that I could smell her feet from across the bus while she was scrubbing away. That hot, musty, thick feet smell was just wafting all around us. It was nasty and I'm just glad I wasn't feeling queasy at that moment. Perhaps I was just too focussed on her to feel anything else. Then I was thinking of how her fingers must be all stinkified and germy and maybe she'll have fish sticks and fries for dinner and it'll all get licked off along with the ketchup.....

Sometimes my imagination just goes nuts.

In This Pregnancy Vein...

I'm not. I'm so very not. At all. So don't even think it.

Lately, I would say the last two months or so I've been feeling a little barfy. Mostly they've been espisodes that occur between the hours of 2pm to 6pm. On and off... I'll be OK one minute and the next I'll feel all nauseated. Then I have to put my head between my legs or turn off my monitor for a few minutes until I feel better. Little waves of nausea, but they're minor. It's never been so bad that I've had to head for the nearest washroom.

Yesterday a friend was hanging out in our office and I told him I was feeling barfy. But then I was also feeling hungry so I ate. He watched me eat (he scoooted his chair back a bit too) a tangerine and some Black Pepper Jack (mmmm......) doritos, all the while I'm feeling queasy. I am so weird. I don't know why I'm getting these little moments of sickness... and only during those few afternoon hours.

I do feel ick when people wearing strong colognes and perfumes come into our office. If it's too strong, they linger too long or I don't get out for fresh air I will get a headache, elevated heart rate, sweaty and clammy skin, nausea and my hands will shake. I even have a note from my doctor describing my chemical sensitivity to strong odours. But that's neither here nor there with my 2-6pm mystery episodes. Where's that Nancy Drew when you need her?

I Could Be An Elephant

If you believe people at my work, I've been pregnant numerous times. Rumours were started, some by my friends, that I got knocked up and had to have a shotgun wedding. I've been married in excess of three years now. There are instances where more than 9 months have passed and the rumour persists that I'm still pregnant. Now I know the record for mammalian gestation periods belongs to the elephant at 22 months. I may have broken that record... many times over. I never show, or deliver for that matter so you would think after the first few "psych outs" people would let the issue die until I actually come out and say "I'm peppermint (courtesy: Bobby's World)."

I've had co-workers ask me questions varying in degrees of vague, "You look like you're glowing!" (which, at the time I happily agreed because I thought she was talking about my naturally radiant skin), beating around the bush, "I notice you snack a lot and make lots of bathroom trips", to downright rude. I take a sick day once in awhile when I need it. Upon my return I always get asked "Did you have morning sickness?? Are you pregnant?!?"

Not only do I find that last bit extremely rude and offputting, but it's curious that these people are more obsessed with me being pregnant than my parents... let me rephrase. My mom. Like all moms she's excited about future grandchildren and will ask me from time to time about when I'm going to start. I love teasing her, sometimes I can't stop laughing when she talks about it. Other times I feel like saying something crass like, "We're practicing like bunnies right now. We should be in tip top shape when we're ready to breed like bunnies."

There are several ladies here my age who are newly married too. I actively encourage and conspire to plant the seeds (keeee!) in everyone else's minds about certain states of spermination regarding my friends. I like to spread the fun around and hey, if we're all pregnant at the same time, how fun indeed!

A friend of mine recently purchased some books on the topic of "new mommies" for someone she knows who is actually for real pregnant. It's not even about being pregnant, it's about what to expect after delivery. I've decided to skip that whole messy 9 months and go straight to parenting and borrowed the book. I have now purposely placed it at the corner of my desk in the aim of spreading new rumours... just for kicks. Watch, it won't take long at all.

So You Don't Like Christmas...

We're having a "Holiday Potluck" at work instead of what it is: a Christmas potluck. Apparently, we can't risk offending people who don't believe in Christmas. I heard a rumour that we're not even allowed to say the "C" word in front of some people. That really pisses me off because that's taking away from me. If you don't care for the Christian-based holidays that's fine, but don't make me and everyone else suffer for it.

I'm tired of this country where even thinking is taboo. I'm tired of this politically correct, politically sensitive culture we now live in where we have to pander to everyone. I am tired of this watered-down blandness we impose on ourselves just to please every last person. When did Christmas, the national anthem, individuality and religion in general become so wrong? Why can I not say or do what I want without feeling like a bad person?

I notice that while the beliefs and customs of minority groups are flourishing in Canada, European beliefs and customs (Easter, Christmas, Christianity) are being quashed. This "melting pot" thing isn't working, I never thought it was a good idea. I have no problems with a multicultural society but I don't agree that we hang onto our old lives while refusing to be "Canadians" because we love our motherlands more. What the hell are you doing here if everything back home is better? Why are you putting down my country when you live here too? You're using our welfare system, our health care system, our education system and taking jobs away from someone else who might want to be here and you're complaining?? Don't give me that shit about giving your kids a better life because if things are so good back home then your logic doesn't wash. And you really think you're doing them a favour by bad mouthing Canada, not learning our customs and languages and isolating yourselves in your own little groups?

If you live here, you should be Canadian, which doesn't mean you turn your back on your people, beliefs or identity. You need to respect our customs and beliefs just as much as you expect us to respect yours. Why should we have to be whipped into submission because you don't like something that doesn't belong to you? You may not believe in or celebrate Christmas just as I don't believe in or celebrate Kwanzaa, Ramadan, Hanukkah and any other religious/cultural event, but that's OK. It's OK to have different and separate beliefs. Making us change our holidays' names so you're not offended is just petty. If I asked you to change yours, you'd be calling me a racist, hateful, uneducated, everything-that's-wrong-with-this-world idiot before I even finish talking. Right?

If you're so adamant about not celebrating Christmas, Easter or any other of our holidays then maybe you should come into work on those days and put in your 8 hours. I notice nobody ever complains about getting paid holidays. On the flip side, I shouldn't have to pay you for taking every Friday afternoon off for religious reasons. You can worship, but not at my expense as a taxpayer. If I pay you for 8 hours' work each day you should be doing your job. If you need time off, use your vacation days.

So to the people who love and celebrate Christmas, I say Merry Christmas! Lots of Yuletide joy to you and yours. To the people who don't celebrate Christmas but don't make a fuss about it, I say Happy Holidays. Hope you enjoy some extra family time. And because I'm not politically correct, to the complainers and the whiners: A MERRY FUCK YOU!

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

We went down for a hockey game between the Pens and the Calgary Flames. We got up at 6am on yesterday (Saturday) and set off. We got our dose of Timmy's... I realized we never drink so much as when we're on a road trip when we become caffeine whores. Anyway, the drive was nice. Who knew the state of Pennsylvania was so pretty? Lots of rolling hills and valleys, very unlike the boring flatness of Southern Ontario. Nothing out of the ordinary, except across the border it's deer season so we'd occasionally see hunters in fluorescent orange suits in the woods as we're zooming by. On a side note, my grandmother told me that when you're hunting you have to bring pink toilet paper. If someone sees white flapping around (like when you're wiping after a doo doo), they could assume it's the butt of a deer and take aim. Ouch. Sage advice if you ever think of going out into the bush during hunting season.

The drive took about 6 hours, maybe less. We stopped at the outlet mall in Grove City. Much to buy, nothing that really caught our eye. I liked the one in Michigan better. We did find some roadside stores that sell fireworks and Mr. Stinky almost wet his pants. We didn't buy too too much in case we get stopped at the border, but their shit is a fraction of what you pay in Ontario. I got a brick that shoots 100 crayon-sized missiles with reports for: $2.95US!!!

Pittsburgh is a nice city. The buildings were nice. Very unique architecture... although my knowledge of architecture doesn't extend past "arcs are strong". Modern buildings, archaic buildings, buildings over roads, roads through buildings, interesting stuff.

We sat in the upper bowl of the arena directly behind home net. They were actually good seats, this way we could see the Flames on offense twice. There were also a lot of Flames fans. We wore our jerseys and didn't feel out of place, the fans were friendly enough as well. A little bit of ribbing but it was in good fun. Calgary won 3-2 and we were happy.

We thought about driving home after the game but hotels are cheap down there and Mr. Stinky was tired so we stayed down. People in the next room were loud and rowdy into the early hours of the morning. We were pissed because we had wanted to get some sleep and leave early so we probably only got about 3-4 hours of sleep. I really wanted to exact some revenge in the line of fireworks and snowballs. I was even thinking of pouring water under their door and soaking their carpet. When we got up at 5am this morning, Mr. Stinky banged on their walls a few times. Dumbasses!

Lake effect really drives the snow down when she feels like it. It had snowed 1-3 inches overnight and was still going when we left. Some spots were OK, others were not; we drove in white-out conditions. AT LEAST PEOPLE KNEW HOW TO DRIVE IN IT!!! Southern Ontario has nothing on the northeastern states. Bridges were icy and driving was hazardous at times. Mr. Stinky had to be really careful and even though I could barely keep my eyes opened, I made myself stay awake to watch out for cars, deer, edge of the road...

So we made it back OK. No snow here, but 5 times the amount of salt on the ground. We drove just under 1200 km in 2 days. Not bad. We enjoyed the trip, we'll have to think about where we want to go next time. It'll have to have fireworks, though. ;0)