When Thursday is Friday

Looked that up on google and I got a link to Wikipedia’s entry for "Thursday", which notes:

“Some have adopted an acronym for Thursday, similar to Friday's T.G.I.F., to say "So Happy It's Thursday," or S.H.I.T.”

Aren’t populist encyclopedia’s great? You wouldn't find that in Funk and Wagnalls. Here’s another winner from the same entry:

"In The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, the character Arthur Dent says "This must be Thursday. I could never get the hang of Thursdays". A few minutes later the planet Earth is destroyed. Thor, for whom the day was named, also appears later in the Hitchhiker's series and in other Adams books."

If we aren’t careful, Star Trek and Dungeons and Dragons may appear far more popular in our historical texts than they actually have been. But then again, I suppose this is just another item in the long line that begins with “Canadian History 101: First there were Indians. Then the Europeans came”. If Bill Gates and his ilk win (have won?) I guess they get to write the history. Sad but true.

So did I mention tomorrow is a statutory holiday? Before Mondays were meeting days for me, Thursdays were meeting days, which meant, after the switch, that I was constantly fighting the mindset that Tuesdays were casual days. Confused?

Well, you’re not alone. So is the US Department of Agriculture. They’re supposed to be busy finding good steak for the barbie and instead, they are getting terrorists confused with cows, or more to the point, a certain rare white tiger that is the pet of some rather infamous but oddly closeted life partners in Sin City. Apparently the USDA has been investigating Montecore’s revenge on Ray Horn in 2003. They just released the report. Check out this nugget, a tip offered to the USDA after the event, courtesy of Yahoo News:

"If there is audio & video of the tiger attack it should be analyzed for far-UV and or high ultra sonics, as well as other triggers that might be the work of a terrorist aiming at a high profile gay target."

Sounds like that guy needs some of Tom Cruise’s vitamins. Because if Osama Been Forgotten can’t get George Bush, why not some inconsequential Las Vegas performer? I mean that would be a real blow to those Americans, eh? Don't get me wrong, the Mirage was great and all, but Roy? Surely even Big Bird would have hit closer to home?

In the meantime, how about we get those Alberta ranchers a bit happier and devote some thought to opening up the border, especially now that you have your own mad cow, from Texas I might add….hehe (I’ll let you finish that joke). Unless of course you think our cows contain listening devices to try to figure out your secret plan to win the war in Iraq? Oh that's right, the war is over. I just got a little confused there...

It's Dubya vs. Parliament in the biggest fight of them all!

Can there be any greater illustration of the difference between Canada and the U.S. than last night? While George Bush is staging yet another ‘explanation’ of the war in Iraq, our parliamentarians are recognizing the right of same sex couples to marry. Yes, we’re all about protecting minorities from the tyranny of the majority, or so I like to think, and they’re all about the tyranny of the minority.

The “or so I like to think” part refers to the startling number of people I’ve seen on TV or who have written to their newspapers to complain that they weren’t involved in the decision to legitimate same sex marriage. Now you know how I feel about this already (see an earlier post), but since when do we have a referendum on matters relating to human rights and personal freedom? I mean if that was the case, we wouldn’t have become the bastion of multiculturalism we are today since it seems to me at one time or another there have been great numbers of people who have sought to marginalize native people, tax Chinese-born Canadians and decline entry to Jewish refugees into this fine land. Should we have had a vote on all those things? Kinda sounds like a bad idea in hindsight, eh?

Yes, times are a changin’ folks and this is another step towards our goal of a truly just society, to borrow a phrase from Mr. “state doesn’t belong in the bedrooms of the nation” Trudeau. Sometimes leadership means having your ear to the ground, and sometimes it means standing at the front, pulling along the kicking and screaming bunch towards what’s right.

Kudos to those parliamentarians, whether because of public opinion or respect for human rights, voted to make our nation a bit more inclusive this morning than it was yesterday afternoon.

Wacko Jacko meet Major Tom

When they're writing articles about you entitled "Ground Control to Major Tom" it may be time for a reality check. On her blog, Rosie's comments were "I think I may need to up my meds". And you know, just as I went to find the link for that post, I got a pop-up about anti-depressants. Funny. Not really.

I watched him on Oprah, what was that, a few weeks ago, and my initial thought was, 'gee, I wonder if I'll ever feel that way about someone and I wonder if anyone will feel that way about me'. But then he just kept going on and on about it and I thought he might be on drugs. Which is ironic after hearing all about how awful he was to Matt Lauer on the Today Show, and in turn, how perfectly awful and disrespectful he is to Brooke Shields. Buddy, she's the normal one. You are fast approaching the Jacko level of celebrity-being. No one lives like that 24-7 and if you can't control yourself for an hour of television, maybe you need some help, and I mean that in the nicest way. It doesn't seem like the vitamins are working. You're trying too hard.

I really hate it when people talk about anti-depressants as if they are a sign of weakness. They could be, but since you can never walk in another persons shoes, you just don't know. Let's not make the wide spectrum of mental illness more difficult to endure. Because if some woman suffering from post-partum depression heard "Doctor" Cruise's rantings and decided to go the vitamin route without at least talking to an actual expert in the field, then he should feel responsible for whatever could happen next. But he's probably too 'high on life' (or whatever bad batch of whatever he's on) to care.

Like I said, Wacko Jacko, meet Major Tom.

Gotta wear Shades

Took this picture at TRI on Wednesday. The raspberry ice tea is really good. At the time, I was thinking about how great it would be to work downtown. No, not because of the work, and certainly not because of the commute, but because of the options available to pass the time during the lunchbreak. Only in the summertime though. Well, I suppose there is access to shopping in the winter, but in the summer University Avenue is really quite beautiful, despite the ambulances, helicopters and smog. There's also a refreshing level of anonymity one can assume in such a big place. It's relaxing.

Bob Geldofyerhighhorse

So okay, I think we should wipe the slate clean in terms of debt owed to Canada by third world nations. And I think we could give a lot more foreign aid, though there is that small problem of making sure that the dollars we give are effective and end up in the right hands. But where exactly does Bob Geldof get off telling my Prime Minister not to bother coming to a G8 summit unless he's prepared to double foreign aid by 2015, increasing it to a level promised by Pearson. Okay so it is does suck that there was a promise made that has yet to be lived up to. This one appears to have joined the closet with that one about eliminating child poverty in Canada by 2000.

But excuse me, when did Bob Geldof's opinion count more than my vote? Yes, I accept my part of the responsibility for the catastrophe in Africa, and perhaps part of that is not holding my government accountable for its foreign policy.

I happen to think we have a crisis in health care in this country. So sue me for wanting to put my family and friends ahead of Africa's population. So maybe I'm not a straight up utilitarian. But that's my right as a citizen.

Noel Gallagher of Oasis is quoted in this week's Macleans as saying "My role in life is making sure my daughter grows up knowing right from wrong. That's it. Elton John and Bob Geldof can say all they want that rock stars should be doing stuff, but who put them in charge?"

Now I'm not normally one for quoting a Gallagher, but *hello* that's the point, no one put them in charge. Just because millions of people bought a record you made 30 years ago does not make you the moral authority of the world. How about directing your energies toward the un-elected multi-millionaire head of your local drug conglomerate?

Because I'll tell my Prime Minister what to do, thank you very much. And he's going to the G8 summit. And if you have anything further to say, Mr. Geldof, I look forward to hearing of your application to become a Canadian citizen.

525,600 minutes

So you know how I love the story of the underdog, the survivor. And it can't get much better than Broadway. Of course, in a sense all Broadway musicals are about such things, but I think Rent is something more. Even simply for the fact that it's creator, Jonathan Larson, died tragically hours before his baby opened. To rave reviews no less. Real life is so much more meaty, more heartfelt, more meaningful and educational than fiction, and ironically, Rent, though ostensibly a work of fiction, proves that very thing. What matters? Love, friendship, the family you make, the family you work to keep. I'm getting farklempt just thinking about it! Talk amongst yourselves....

The first time I saw Rent was when Liz dragged me to it in Toronto, I think probably in 1999? She's a big fan. I went and I loved it. Then, by some cosmic intent, we (yes I was with Liz again) ended up sitting in the front row at the Nederlander Theatre in New York City in October 2004. Yep, I believe it was meant to be. There's something even more wonderful about seeing it on Broadway, in the environs it was really meant to be seen. I was quite misty eyed when Frenchie belted it out at the end.

Now, there's a movie coming out, and I know where I'll be on November 11. If you're already a fan, check out the blog from the people involved. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here to get to the trailer. Santa Fe is and always will be my favourite song, especially now that I'll get to see and hear Jesse Martin sing it...I guess on screen is better than nothing.

But the key to it all is the idea that you can't 'rent' your life, you have to own it.

See ya at the movies Liz!

Here's to the bitter, disastrous failures of my life!

Just finished up with the AMCTO conference. Lots of good info, not only job-related but on the personal level too. And since I refrain from job-speak here, I’ll stick with the latter.

Paula Todd spoke at the closing ceremonies. When I saw her name on the list of speakers the only thing that came to mind was TVO, which is not wrong mind you, but certainly not the extent of her expertise. She seemed like a very natural speaker, and I was impressed at her ability to stay on stream all the way to the point, even with divergent stories meant as illustrations. Of course, she’s probably given the same speech a thousand times by now and has it all well tuned, but I was impressed nonetheless.

Her talk centered on her book (of course!), recently released, called “A Quiet Courage”. I might eventually buy it, though I’m not sure if I will get any more from it than what I got from her speech. Her point is that you don’t learn anything from success, but from what people deem as the failures of their lives. This is not only a self-observation, but one that can be applied in casual conversation. When you ask someone about themselves, they inevitably tell you what they do at work, how many kids they have… But if I were to tell you my title at work, I can guarantee you won’t feel like you know me or how I came to become the person I am. It says nothing. One thing she said that I made note of: “The things that teach us are the private hardships we keep secret”. It’s just not so cool to open a conversation with the litany of your hardships, it’s not professional or ladylike. And sometimes that is appropriate, sometimes people do share far too much, far too fast, but you just can’t really know a person without knowing their worst moments and how they overcame them.

Which is probably why it continually amazes me that people marry each other after meeting a scant three months before, or something like that. Even if you stay up all night talking for those three months, you just have to see someone at Christmastime, mourning their family losses to know them, or whatever the case may be. I think so, anyway.

Yes, I agree with Paula Todd, and I remember discussing this same principle with Nancy and this other person I used to work with a few months back. I am a better person for all the crap. I have learned. And yes, I’m about to quote Kelly Clarkson, or whoever her team of writers may be: “Thanks to you, now I get what I want”. Go ahead, laugh now.

Still doesn’t mean I need for a bad thing to happen. If you can hear me up there, I’m still learning from the last disaster, so maybe give me awhile, ok?

Mojo had a haircut this morning

Mojo, again, on Unionville Main Street this morning. I'll be posting some more pictures to my Flickr page soon. You can link to my photos from the button under "Links" on the right side a little further down.

Mojo's groomer is Stephanie of Pets are People too. She offers mobile grooming and always does a great job with him. There's a picture of him from his last grooming in her gallery.

Actuaries at the Doughnut Shop

On my way to pick up my tickets for the jazz festival at lunch, I was listening to my wonderful CBC Radio, going on and on about the recent Supreme Court decision that, depending on who you listen to, means the end to Tommy Douglas’ dream or means absolutely nothing. When it comes to the rantings of pundits, my post-university days have revealed the latter to be the case 99% of the time.

I was pondering the meaning of private, and how ironic that the privatization of health care, more specifically, a two tier system which would allow private payment, may have such a serious impact on one’s privacy. Let's all start getting a bit paranoid about those medical records and who you've told about your blood pressure...

I have to admit, that if something were to happen to a member of my family, or a good friend and I could pay to have faster treatment, even if the treatment itself was no more promising than what was available in the public system, I would mortgage all that I own. Health is a profoundly and intensely emotional thing.

Which is also the thing that makes it a private matter, but not in the direct sense of $$. If I can buy insurance that will get me treatment faster, hey why not? Sounds like a good investment. But what if I can’t get the insurance? Insurance companies, by their very nature, are keen to limit liability. And liability, by its very nature, requires judgment.

And all this brings us back to Tommy Douglas. Because if I can’t get the insurance, then I *will* have to mortgage all that I own for care. And it might not be enough. The advantage of a public system is that you don’t have to worry about non-coverage for ‘pre-existing conditions’. And you get to live, or even die, with dignity: even if you were born with a genetic disease that an actuary has a table for, even if you’ve made bad choices in your past. Because it’s all fine and dandy to say that smokers deserve what’s coming to them, but try to keep up that line when it’s your mom.

Dollars *and* doughnuts, I prefer the public, with my privacy. The only problem left is to figure out why the whole thing is such a mess and how we can fix it. There may be room for something private, some of which already exists, but let's leave the actuaries at the doughnut shop, okay? Let's invest in us.

Seats apart

A couple of years ago I took the train to Montreal. The thing about the train is that there is no assigned seating (at least not for what I was prepared to pay) so you need to get there early to be close enough to the beginning of the line to get a window seat. Who would want to miss 4 or 5 hours of nothing but grass interspersed with the odd smallish town that you can't think of a reason to stop in?

So, needless to say, I arrived early. Painfully early. And I got my window seat. And then this guy sat down beside me, in the aisle seat, with his friend in the adjacent aisle seat. Then he asks me if I would switch with his friend so they could sit together. I said no. I mean, I came early for the window seat and besides, they were sort of sitting together anyway. The aisles are so small in these things that there's not much difference between that space and the space between you and your seatmate anyway. They had words with each other. They may have used the word bitch. I felt uncomfortable the whole trip. But then again, I probably would have just been pissed off at myself for being too accommodating of others all the time had I switched anyway.

I just read an article from the New Yorker that is the same story, only better. Okay, not exactly the same, and it differs in that it didn't happen to me, but it's really good. It's called Turbulence.

The Margaret you mourn for

I saw this kid outside working on the garden in front of where I work this morning. At first I sort of identified with her, then I realized that she might be as much as 12 years younger than me. This is not about me turning 30, at least I don’t think it is. I think it’s about the fact that I don’t feel like an adult. I don’t feel like I act like an adult. Or at least my definition of what an adult is, though I’m aware it might look like I am an 'adult' by some people looking in from the outside. I guess I’d just figured I’d know more and feel more poised, or something.

I think this is perpetuated by the fact that, although I am not the youngest child, I’ve always ended up in work environments where I am the youngest person. It’s the role I play, though not one I’d complain about. It’s just that way. But I’m really not that person in other situations. Maybe I’m a different person, or at least I perceive myself as such, with every person I know. Not in the sense of the sacred truths, but in the presentation of it all. And then I wonder about how I used to be so painfully shy and how I’m not really that way anymore. I remember not correcting adults who mispronounced my name in kindergarten because I just couldn’t speak. Huh. My little melancholic philosophical flight of fancy for today.

It makes me think of Gerard Manley Hopkins…. “Margaret are you grieving over goldengrove unleaving?”. I realize my interpretation of it isn’t the standard (and I don't care), but I’ve loved that poem for the sounds of it since I first studied it in first year university. I think with Adamson. I always thought it was about growing up.

Tiananmen

In June of 1989 I was finishing my last year of elementary school. I remember sitting in a classroom for geography class and talking about the events in Tiananmen Square. This was before high school when an increasing number of my classmates were recent immigrants from Hong Kong. I didn’t yet know anyone who was from that part of the world. I can’t say I blamed them for leaving, or their parents. Seeing that, I would have left too.

I remember thinking how strange it was thinking that someone’s government would do something like that. In my 13-year-old mind this sort of nefarious thing was undertaken by non-governments, by guerillas, by bad people. And government was always made up of, if not generally nice people, than people who were invariably logical and reasonable in their thinking. When people complained about Brian Mulroney, it wasn’t because he instructed a tank to plow over people, but more because of the deficit and the GST. Sounds trite to say now, but *whew*, am I lucky even though I’m not a Conservative…make that, because I’m not a Conservative.

Later I read Jan Wong’s Red China Blues and understood the whole thing a bit more, if that’s really possible. It’s a good read. She’s a good writer, and has a way of bringing you in and making it accessible. I’m guessing that you can’t buy it in the Chinese equivalent of “Heather’s Candle Emporium”.

I still think of that guy standing infront of the tank.

When I was in university, the some lockers were plastered with stickers that simply said “Tiananmen”. It was kind of like saying, in a very specific way, “Remember”.

Not much more to say, is there? What can you say?

Berry Persistent

This is the name of the new colour on my toenails this morning. I’ve decided to throw out all of the nail colour I have, save for the three I bought yesterday. Some of it’s pretty yucky by now anyway. And there's way too much for any 10 toed humanoid to use in one sandal summer.

I have several typical addictive purchases and nail polish is one of them. By addictive purchases, I mean something, usually less than $20, that I buy frequently to give myself a little shopping high while at the same time am able to rationalize its frivolity because of the relatively small amount I’ve spent. But the rationalization falls completely apart when I come home and place the purchase in the drawer full of nail polishes. And then I add insult to injury by never using them, or using them so infrequently that they become no longer useable at all.

I actually don’t have as much a problem with nail polish as I used to, which is why I’m getting myself down to three bottles. I had a phase that started in high school and lasted well beyond university where CDs were my addiction purchase. And now I have well over a hundred and listen to them only in the car. That’s it. And since I don’t drive to Brampton anymore and I like CBC Radio, I really do have a limited CD listening time frame.

In the case of CDs, I would buy one because of one song and then end up hating (or at least feeling indifferent about) the rest. There were and are only a very few that I liked all the way through. And even when I did, there's only so much time I spend in the car. Nail polish, and here is the silliest thing, I bought based on the name of colour. I didn’t buy any of those brands that identified the colour only by a number. I once bought a puke-green shade at the drug store simply because it was called “Cash”.

So, I’m over the nail polish, the CDs are an addiction I can control with real life rationalization, but now I’m into books. And I haven’t been to the library in at least a year. Which is unfortunate, because there are definitely more books there than at Chapters/Indigo/Coles/World’s Biggest Bookstore, a.k.a. ‘Heather’s Candle Emporium’. Yet, I continue to go back. Because I’m berry persistent.

Random Commentary on Wednesday, June 1, 2005

Today is Mojo's 3rd birthday. Three years ago today he was born in Fergus, Ontario. He claimed me on August 9, 2005. I flipped my '12 months of Mojo Calendar' today and saw a picture of Alex holding my little Mojito when he was so little. He's my baby. I'm mojospet.

Today would have been, if I am counting correctly, Barb's 64th birthday. Which also means that it is Bill's anniversary. I went to Walmart today and saw a happy face nightlight sitting at the checkout. Happy faces were Barb's thing. I miss you too Barb.

I suddenly realized that my Grade 3 teacher, who I was trying to find through Google a couple of weeks ago, may have had the first name June. I haven't gone back to search again, but I will. I have no idea where that information came from but it hit me in the photocopy room.

I can't believe it's June already.