Our Lady of Halibut

There's an awesome fish 'n chips place a short drive from my home where they practically know my name, probably because it's my go-to place for dinner on those nights when I don't feel like cooking.  I personally think they serve the best fish 'n chips in my city--both fish AND chips are made of awesome!  And the tartar sauce has nothing to be ashamed of either.

But here's the weird thing--I think the fries might be magic.  Every single time I open the box and look at the contents I think to myself, "Hey, they kinda skimped on the fries."  But somewhere between the box and my plate a miracle happens--the fries seem to double in number (I don't know how they do it, therefore it's a miracle).  The fries that seemed inadequate in the box are now so plentiful they are falling off the edge of my plate.  The only thing that would impress me more would be if the grease-stains on the bottom of the box were in the image of the Virgin Mary.

I think it's my destiny to figure out the secret behind these amazing, self-replicating fries.  It's becoming pretty clear that this is going to require a lot of eating of fish and chips research.

I'm Really Starting to Get the Hang of This Stuff

Last night was class 5 of 8 of the photography class I'm taking together/separately with Mindy. It was our class field trip and we went to Kitchener City Hall to take night photography. Mindy tagged along, partly because her field trip was a bit of a disappointment and partly because I bribed her with sushi. Or maybe she bribed me with sushi. Either way, copious amounts of salmon sashimi were consumed.

I have to say I've learned a tremendous amount about taking pictures. The instructor is very hands-on (in a professional sense, get your mind out of the gutter!) and he's very approachable and helpful. Here are some of the valuable lessons I've learned over the last 5 weeks:

-Having the right lens will make people envy you, including your instructor;

-Night photography is hard;

-Sometimes metering doesn't work;

-Don't be afraid to crop;

-Take enough pictures of something and eventually you'll take one you like;

-Pictures look a lot different on a computer monitor than they do on the little screen on the back of the camera;

-Sometimes the pictures you thought would be awesome will suck, and sometimes the pictures you thought would suck will be awesome;

-Comparing your pictures to those taken by others will only cause you pain and grief.

My instructor asked us to decide on a theme for the pictures we would be taking on our field trip and then choose 2 or 3 of our favourites which best expressed that theme. I chose "Repetition" as my theme and I've posted my favourites on my photo blog here. Unfortunately I had difficulty narrowing my choice down to 3--go take a look and help me out, will ya?

Taking Stock

To say this year has been difficult is an understatement of infinite proportions. It started with a painful whimper and went downhill from there. Sitting here recalling all the shit I've witnessed over the last 365 days is depressing but also weirdly empowering. I've said it before and I'll say it again: you don't know how strong you are until you're tested. This year has been quite the test.

The Defeats:

-losing my first karaoke contest

-my Mom's near-death morphine overdose at the hands of health care professionals

-serious upheaval at work, followed by major career soul-searching

-my stepfather's near heart attack followed by quadruple bypass surgery

-the tragic death of a young co-worker by a hit-and-run driver (who's still at large)

-recurring lower back issues

-my Mom's continuing decline culminating in a broken arm, broken leg and finally admission to palliative care

-the sudden passing of my father-in-law

-my brother-in-law's brain cancer came back after 10 years

-my parent's dog, Murphy, was run over by a car and killed

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, we can remember the many happy events of the past year.

The Victories:

-I celebrated my first anniversary as a blogger

-Holy crap! I was in a karaoke contest!

-I got to see a fabulous Andy Warhol exhibit

-I got in touch with my inner bob

-I was chosen to be a contributor to a newsletter at work

-I joined a band

-my step-father made a full and speedy recovery from his quadruple bypass surgery

-I had the opportunity to take 3 months off work to spend with my Mom, sharing her journey with cancer and in the process growing a strong bond with my nieces

-we gave The Fonz the finger

-my Mom's story helped raise money for a palliative care home in Huntsville, finally making it a reality

-Kiki and Randy got married

-my Mom made it to her 63rd birthday and was ushered into the 21st century

-I started a new hobby and a new blog

-I celebrated Christmas with my whole family, including our new puppy, Neo

In spite of all the adversity I've faced this past year, I am ultimately incredibly lucky; lucky to have wonderful friends and family, a good job, a loving and supportive partner, an affectionate (if not a little crazy) cat, and a strong and miraculous mother who continues to amaze us every day. I can't linger on the negative--I choose to embrace the positive and look forward to the new wonders and joys I will face in the new year. The challenges I face will undoubtedly compare to or even surpass what I've already seen, but I know now that out of negatives come positives that make the negatives seem worth it in the end. So I will go forward, happy in the knowledge that my journey is far from over and holds surprises beyond imagination.

Bathroom Etiquette for Dummies

I had a very interesting (no, really--it was) conversation the other day with a couple of coworkers about bathroom etiquette. The two of them were "pee shy"--they won't go if there's someone else already using the restroom. They also had rules about what stall a new comer should choose based on which one they had already occupied (hint: the farther away, the better) and how much conversation is acceptable between restroom users (in case you can't guess, none.)

I nodded and smiled in something resembling agreement because I could see they were somewhat passionate about the topic, but I'm afraid I could only partially relate. I couldn't care less whether there's someone peeing next to me in a stall or whether they can hear me pee. I'd prefer to keep the conversation to a minimum, especially while in the act of peeing, but if someone initiated I wouldn't snub them or anything.

I have some modesty--I won't drop trou in front of just anyone and void my bladder--but I have peed in front of My Honey. I guess what it boils down to is I just don't see it as that big a deal. We all do it (unless you're on dialysis or have a catheter or something) but yet we seem to need to pretend we don't. When I announce to my group of friends/coworkers/random strangers in a restaurant that I need to pee, I'm met with embarrassed snickers and cries of "TMI." Why are we so obsessed with making a show of denying our bodily functions?

Here's Something to Make My Problems Seem Insignificant

The day I left California for home, my train to the airport was delayed because someone walked in front of a Caltrain in a successful bid to end his life. It happened to be the train that left right before the one I was scheduled to take. I had even thought about taking this earlier train, just to be sure I wouldn't miss my flight.

As my train slowly passed by the site of the "incident," I saw his body covered by a yellow tarp. It was more disturbing than I expected it to be.

Today I decided to search Google news to see if they had anything on the incident--they did, but in looking I discovered someone else had done much the same thing the day before. This one disturbed me even more since there was a possibility I had may have interacted with this individual as I and My Honey have been to her place of work on more than one occassion.

I guess I'm posting this to reassure you all that despite the fact that I'm down right now, I am no where near where these two poor souls had to have been to do what they did.

My heart goes out to those they left behind.

Someone's Trying to Justify My Rent Increase

They're painting the unit doors in my apartment building this week (they being the ubiquitous "they" who are responsible for making decisions about these types of things.) Well, doors and "frs" to be exact. I was a little confused by the sign, partly because I didn't know what "frs" were and also because I couldn't understand why (assuming "frs" is a shortened form of something) the entire word wasn't spelled out as there was ample room on the sign for more than 3 letters.

So then I started thinking maybe "frs" was actually an extremely abbreviated version of a much longer word that wouldn't fit on the sign, like "furnitures" or "fornicators" or "forefathers." But none of these really made any sense so I assumed, probably like everyone else, that "frs" was "frames." Doors and frames.

Three days into the exercise someone finally cleared the whole thing up once and for all by writing in pen "floors" below "frs" on the sign in the elevator. Well there you go then.

So far I haven't seen any paint on the floors, but maybe they're just covering their bases in case they spill some.

Thank goodness they're not painting the fornicators! How would I explain coming into work covered in gray paint?

You Kiss Your Mother With That Mouth!?

I'm finding the North American obsession with oral hygiene a bit unsettling. Obsessiveness in general is unsettling, but the part that really creeps me out is how my mouth is depicted as a cesspool of bacteria, germs and unsightly stains, not fit for exposure to other human beings. I'm often told I have a dirty mouth, but it's generally meant in a more figurative sense than a literal one.

I can't seem to sit though a commercial break in my favourite TV programs anymore without being beaten over the head with images of giant teeth dripping slimy purple-brown goo and magnified alien-like bacteria pulsating and wriggling like Jell-o. But thanks to the modern miracle of CGI, the "hero" in these epics is often just as creepy as the (alleged) bad guys.

Consider the mouthwash with the pink "liquid men" splashing around in your mouth--doesn't that just give you the willies? Or the other one that promises to "Stop gingivitis before it starts, " which makes gum disease sound more like an eventuality than a possibility. These scare tactics are meant to convince me I can't live a normal life without their products, but the thought of using them makes me want to scream with terror.

I guess what really offends me about these ads for fancy toothpaste, motorized toothbrushes, gingivitis-fighting mouthwash--and most importantly, teeth whiteners--is the insinuation that my mouth is naturally diseased and defective and without the intervention of these innovative and high-tech products I'm doomed to a life of pain and suffering, both physical and psychological. My $2.49 toothbrush and $3.79 toothpaste just aren't gonna cut it--in fact, it's irresponsible of me to even be using them!

I guess I'd better stock up before they're all recalled and taken off the store shelves. If they're that ineffective, one would assume a responsible company concerned with my oral health wouldn't want to taint their reputation by selling products that don't work. Right?

Well, Now I Won't Enjoy It

Excerpt from my Gmail chat with my Honey tonight:

Honey: So what's new?

me: i have a breakfast date with my friend stephanie on saturday

Honey: This Saturday or next Saturday?

me: this saturday

valentine's day

we're going for french toast at symposium

and kiki and i are going shopping for underwear on sunday

do i have an exciting life or what?

Honey: More exciting than mine.

Let's recap: Kendall: breakfast with a hotty on Saturday, shopping for underwear with another hotty on Sunday, probably great dinner with friends Sunday night. Me: Saturday get yelled at by pre-pubescent assholes online, Sunday more of the same, Sunday night finally break down and eat more shitty McDonalds food in an orgy of self-loathing

I'd say you win...

me: well when you put it that way...

Home Again, Home Again

I made it back safe and sound! No emergency river landings or anything like that, just US Airways running out of food on my flight back yesterday. No worries--I brought my own lunch.

This trip was nice and relaxing--lots of time spent with My Honey watching my new favourite UK import and playing Rock Band (for the purposes of practicing my karaoke skills, of course!) I did some shopping at a Japanese dollar store for Katie's birthday and I scored some cute tops at Ross and new bras and underwear at Tar-jay. We did hit one new restaurant in Mountain View called uWink--the perfect blend of food and games--but the highlight of my trip was visiting The Milk Pail. I picked up these fantabulous scones and some apricot Stilton which I will be sharing with the peeps at Sunday night dinner this weekend. Also worth mentioning is the two trips we made to a booze warehouse aka: Utopia. Why haven't I moved to California yet?

My Honey also introduced me to the best icecream sandwiches I've ever had and on my last night in town a friend of his made us duck a l'orange, asparagus with Hollandaise and mashed potatoes after softening us up with Mojitos which are now officially my favourite rum-based alcoholic beverage.

As I might have implyed in my last post, the weather was splendid--highs in the low 20s everyday and not a cloud to be seen. It was kinda odd though to see leafless maple and oak trees standing shoulder-to-shoulder with big, bushy palm trees. I even saw a lemon tree laden with nearly-ripe fruit! I have to say I never expected to experience the smell of freshly-cut grass in January. Very strange indeed.

Break on Through to the Other Side

I made it through a full day at work (barely) and I'm about to attempt another one. I do feel a whole lot better today, although last night I was convinced I was coming down the the same diabolical cold that has claimed Katie, Kiki, Randy and Guy (and possibly my Honey) as it's victims. This morning though, I am clear as a 40 below winter morning in Sudbury so I'm keeping my fingers crossed I dodged that bullet. As long as my throat doesn't get sore I'm probably okay...

If any good comes of this debacle it might be that my appetite is extremely diminished. If it stays that way I might be able to keep the 12 pounds off that I lost as a result of what I'm calling "The Big Purge." I have kinda been using going to the gym as an excuse to allow myself to eat pretty much whatever I want, so if I can stay the course of moderation (well, in regard to food anyway) I might actually see some of the benefits going to the gym affords. Also I have a lot of great clothes I love that I can't seem to squeeze into right now, so getting back into them would be awesome.

Sometimes I think I allow myself to gain weight so I have an excuse to go shopping for new clothes, but eventually this backfires when you have gotten so large that your only option is "Otto the Tent Maker" or going naked. I need to look at losing weight as a opportunity to go "shopping" in my own closet. Or to actually go shopping. Who am I kidding?

To Resolve, or Not To Resolve

I hate making New Year's resolutions. I don't think I've managed to follow through on one over the course of my entire life. I haven't made a resolution in years, largely because it's a sure-fire path to failure and, by extension, depression and self-loathing.

This is not to say I don't support the concept; the cusp of a new year is an excellent time to reflect on the previous 365 days and make some sort of conscious effort to improve upon them over the next 365. The problem is I inevitably set impossibly high goals for myself. Like losing 50 pounds. Or excercising 5 days a week. These kinds of expectations are clearly unrealistic for mere mortals such as myself, but I get swept up in the moment and the next thing I know I'm swearing off chocolate. As if.

So my more recent approach is to congratulate myself on getting through another year in customer service where I shed no blood or tears (mine or another's), appreciate the wonderful people I'm truly lucky to have in my life, and be thankful I have my health, a roof over my head, and a job that pays me decently well.

Next year's chips will fall where they may and hopefully in another 365 days I'll be counting all these same blessings again and looking forward to another year of them.

Have I Mentioned How Much I Hate TV Commercials?

It's time for another rant! This one is courtesy of the marketing geniuses as Chevrolet. Apparently they think the way to attract women car buyers is to pelt them with 4 inch stilettos. I'm sure you've all seen the commercial where a female driver is suddenly startled by a shoe landing on her new Chevrolet Transverse gas-guzzler. She then proceeds to run out into the street along with other shoe-crazy women to collect the manna from heaven.

I perceive many problems with this scenario: 1) It would hurt like hell to be hit in the head by a Manalo Blahnik dropped from 40 000 feet; 2) Last time I checked shoes come in various sizes, styles and colours--the statistical probability that she'll end up with even one matching pair, let alone a pair that fits, is astronomical; 3) I've just purchased a $30 000+ SUV--do you really think I'm going to be okay with the shattered windshield and severely dented hood that will result from footwear hurtling at my vehicle from space?

But all these complaints pale in comparison to the blatant sexism and propagation of negative stereotypes that are at the heart of this ad. This my friends is why North American car manufacturers are in their death thoes--they are so out of touch with their consumers that no bail out package can help them now.

We Have Witnessed Something Amazing

I know I'm not American but I still want to throw in my two cents on the outcome of yesterday's Presidential election:

-I'm thrilled that there is no way that Sarah Palin might become President at any point in the next 4 years.

-I am honestly surprised that Barack Obama won since I always figured they would elect a Republican female President before they would elect an African-American Democrat.

I just hope he doesn't meet the same fate as that of the last American President who made people this passionate about politics...



P.S. I'm really disappointed in Californians for passing Proposition 8 :(

I Guess I Could Go As Darth Vader for Halloween...

So apparently I have moderate sleep apnea. I like the use of the word "moderate"--not "severe", not "acute", just "moderate"--which almost makes it seem okay that my sleep is interrupted anywhere from 18 to 47 times an hour! How does that happen without me being even a little aware of it? It's amazing really, and very scary at the same time. Here I am, gasping for breath "moderately" frequently during the night and I have no clue.

Last night I did a second sleep over at the clinic but this time they hooked me up to a CPAP machine. It was definitely a little strange having one of these strapped to my face, but I actually fell asleep pretty quickly and slept very well through the night, all things considered.

If the results from the test indicate that my sleep was improved by the machine, I get to take one home for a test drive for 30 days before buying one. And at prices starting at about $1000 one wants to be sure one is happy with the machine! OHIP covers just about $800 and I'm hoping my group benefits from work will cover the rest (haven't actually looked into this yet...guess I'd better get on that.)

Went to the gym again Sunday and last night, but I'm giving myself a break tonight--I'm feeling pretty tired after my unusual sleep situation last night. But I'll be hittin' 'er again tomorrow! I think maybe I'm gonna try for 40 minutes of cardio instead of my usual 30...ooooh big excitement! What's even more exciting is I'm actually developing arm muscles! I have biceps! Well, more biceps than I had at any rate. And some triceps, too! It's only been a week and a half and I already can see some small glimmerings of results which is exactly the kind of positive reinforcement I need to keep myself motivated. That and Kiki's foot firmly planted in my ass.

A (Karaoke) Star Is Born!

Friday night Guy and I went to karaoke with a bunch of work buddies and did we have a blast! It had been so long since my last karaoke excursion I had forgotten how much fun it is to get all liquored up and make a fool of myself in public! We sang (and I use the term loosely) "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" and we brought down the house. Well, that might've been the beer talking...either way, what we lacked in talent we more than made up for in boundless enthusiasm.

Karaoke is a great equalizer--few people are very good at it, most of us really suck, but what we all share is the nerve to get up in front of a room full of people and draw a great deal of attention to ourselves and manage to have an absolutely fabulous time doing it. I'm an exhibitionist at heart, I think, because I love being the centre of attention and karaoke is a great way to achieve that. The crowd will clap for you no matter how bad you are as long as you're really trying and put on a good show. Besides, if they don't clap for you, you won't clap for them.

Another reason I keep doing it is karaoke is strangely addictive. I remember how much nerve it took for me to do it for the first time and immediately afterward wanting more than anything to get right back up there and do it again. I've heard the same is true to bungee jumping and skydiving, but I probably won't be doing either of those anytime soon. I guess what these things have in common is the rush--the exhilaration you feel, the release of endorphins in your blood stream--you're taking a risk. Mind you bungee jumping and skydiving have a different type of risk than karaoke, but the risk is there all the same. Emotional pain can be just as damaging as physical pain, and the effects can be even longer lasting.

Having said that, I don't think I'll be taking up any extreme sports. After all, I've never heard of somebody dying in a karaoke accident.

Everybody's Getting Hitched!

I'm surrounded by wedding madness. Friends Mindy and Chris are getting married in, like, two months and at least 3 people I work with either just got married or are planning pending nuptials. Even Kiki and Randy have decided to tie the knot (much to the surprise of a few in our circle). Inevitably I'm finding myself swept up in the enthusiasm, offering to help Kiki with handmade invitations, emailing pictures of wedding dresses and looking forward to shopping for shower gifts, even perhaps throwing said shower...

I am often asked why my Honey and I haven't gotten married. I usually look at the person asking the question like they've grown a second head, but I guess it's not a completely ridiculous notion since we have been together for almost 9 years. We did have a purely academic discussion of the concept of marriage early on in our relationship, and we both seemed to agree that while it might be nice for many people it just wasn't something either of us was interested in. The idea of planning a wedding fills me with dread and I'm firmly of the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" school of thought when it comes to relationship status.

To be honest though, if he were to pop the question I wouldn't hesitate to say "yes" (this is not a hint, Honey). I'd like to think I'd stick to my guns and keep it a small, unconventionally informal and non-traditional affair, but that's the problem with weddings--everybody has an expectation of what they think you should do and it's hard not to just go ahead and do what's been done before because it's easiest that way. It takes a really strong (or stubborn) person to stand up and say they don't want to wear white, they don't want a bouquet or "attendants", no tuxes or speeches or thousands of dollars on photography--just two people declaring their abiding love and fidelity to each other in the company of their closest friends and family.

Preferably with good food and an open bar.

I Would Buy Them in a Boat

While meandering through Sausalito, my Honey and I came across the Fingerhut Gallery. In it we discovered many talented artists including this one that my Honey really liked and this one which was my favourite (you might recognize her). However, the one we both agreed was the best was Dr. Seuss.

I loved his books as a child and of course that also meant I loved the illustrations with the cute little people and animals that were drawn in a style completely unique to him. You could always tell a Dr. Seuss book a mile away just by the cover art. Well now you can own full-sized canvases like this one for just $1695! My Honey's favourite was this one, but I'm rather partial to this one and this one.

I guess I'll have to start saving my shekels (as my Mother would say) if I'm ever gonna be the proud owner of one of these pieces of childhood nostalgia. Frankly, I think the prices are more than reasonable so who knows when one might show up on my wall...

Attack of the Clones!

I was met with the most ungodly sight yesterday. There I was innocently enjoying my beer on the patio of Ethel’s when along came three young women who all had the exact same Rhianna-inspired, expensive-looking, bleached-blonde hair and those ginormous black “Jackie-O” sunglasses that made them look like anorexic insects. Seriously, it looked like someone had cloned themselves just so they could wear three different outfits at the same time.

They freaked me out completely. I (almost) couldn't drink the rest of my beer.

I Guess That's Not What They Meant

I was watching one of my favourite home decorating shows the other day and the couple they were featuring had a 2ish year old and another one on the way. They were looking for help to "baby-proof" their home and I thought, "Well I should hope so, 'cause they're obviously getting in somewhere!"

*rimshot* *cymbal*

Obviously, I'm a Cat Person

When I was a child, I was fascinated by TV commercials. I would be held in rapt attention during those particular two minutes when only moments before I was completely ignoring the actual program. As I've gotten older, I've become really annoyed by most television advertising. I studied advertising in school, so maybe that's a contributing factor, but I find most ads are ill-conceived and poorly executed. On the rare occasion when I come across a truly excellent commercial I'm disproportionately thrilled, often telling friends and family about it ad nauseam.

One of my least favourite series of ads running on TV right now are for Pedigree Healthy Vitality dog food. They feature a dog alone with the food in an all white room with no sound except the disgusting noises a dog would make while scarfing down dog food. On top of that the sound has obviously been amplified for an even more nauseating effect. Arguably the worst offender features a Jack Russell Terrier gnawing away at a Denta Stix thingee and the audio has been cranked up to such a degree that you can actually hear a hiss! The voice over commentary is patronizing in the extreme and makes me want to effect violence on the ad exec who approved this insult to my intelligence.

Thankfully, television remotes come with a "mute" button.