Quote for today:
"A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you're fast asleep." Disney's Cinderella
Do you remember your dreams? I have a very hard time forgetting mine. I have discovered that I am quite different from other people. My dreams are very vivid and lively. They usually include some wild, crazy and out of this world escapade that simply makes absolutely no sense or connection whatsoever to my existence here on Planet Earth. I dream about sailing on pirate ships and travelling through great underground caverns. I dream about vampires, giant octopus, witches and other varying monsters. I dream of swimming with purple haired mermaids in apple cider factories, down deep to an Atlantis of sorts at the bottom of the pool where the king mermaid throws an elaborate banquet in my honor. I had a dream once that I spent a summer drinking lemonade on a tropical island and hanging out with all of the island locals. We had bonfires, ate seaweed and danced in the moonlight. We told stories, sang songs, built sand castles and slept on the beach. When I awoke I had a sinking feeling, I missed them all. I wanted to go back but of course it had never happened and all of those crazy kids, even the green-eyed boy who I had been crushing on all summer, did not exist. Even now though, I will fall asleep and be minding my own dream business on a swamp safari somewhere or in an exotic junglescape and one of them will show up. Then we will laugh and reminisce about the great times we all had that one summer in a dream I once had. Sometimes, there will be a photo album and there we will all be, me in my sunflower flip flops and big sunglasses with Green Eyes sipping cold drinks on the deck of the beach cabin. The others making seaweed wreaths and trying to splash each other as the sun began to sink down behind the horizon. All there, like it had really happened, as though there really was this place somewhere out there where it was all so easy, so laid back, this far away and dreaming. I know I will find my island one day, I am sure of it.
I also dream about four houses. I have never been inside these places for real, they don't exist, but in my dreams these are the houses that I live in. I know these homes as though I have lived there all my life. In dreamland you can have as many houses as you want. I have four and I know every nook and cranny of each. I even know the olive colours of the jacquard walls, the mahogany brocade curtains and I have found all of the secret passages. One of my houses, the burnished orange one, has a bell tower room. I have been up the spiral staircase to it many times. Another one of my houses, the one with the ebony and ivory accents and the grand piano also has a smoky, old pot belly stove with a stove pipe that runs the entire wall of the kitchen right up to the roof. The kitchen walls are white with black lace patterns running all over them. There are two black doors and the ceiling is very high, like that of a great room. I am not going to describe it all to you in detail but I believe I have a very active imagination, even at night while I am asleep.
I look forward to sleep, for that is when I have my greatest adventures. :)
Monday, October 20, 2008
BrainStorms
Quote for today: 'Simple minds gossip about people and average minds talk about things, but great minds discuss ideas.'
My brain storms. It thunders and it flashes with lightning. I mean it, it is perpetually cloudy and raining up there in this great, big head of mine. (Ego pun intended). Not just April showers either but those impressive, clapping thunderstorms with crackling displays of light. Honestly, and my brain doesn't shut down or off like other people. It is an ongoing process and I sometimes need a distraction to buzz away all of the fluttery thoughts, especially when I am trying to sleep. If I just let my brain go and do it's thing then that is when I end up writing until the sun comes up. I believe I have too much to say for my own good. I have all of these half finished posts because I get these great brain waves that turn into unique ideas to write about but then I write half of it and decide to add on to it a little later. I end up with all of this riff raff of half posts and ideas just sloppily scattered across pages and pages of the blog edit room. I keep promising myself that I will finish at least one of these mind scraps before starting a new one, but my thoughts are so tangled and complicated that it is difficult to keep them all organized and lined up single file long enough to finish what I was writing in the first place. I will be halfway through one post and I will get a bright idea that I just have to jot down quickly before it disappears completely and of course there isn't a scrap of paper in my house, not even one, having checked. I also get writer's block easily so I will put one idea on hold and move on to the next one. I find that I want to add a bit more to my posts but I have to do some research first or I want to write in a certain way so I have to take the time to proof it. I then end up with a backlog of half posts that either need research or editing in order to go to press. So be it. See, now this post will also go into the draft pile because I don't really know what else to put in it and until I can figure that out, it goes into unfinished business. I need to add quotes, a bit about the news etc. I don't want to just post a bunch of bits and pieces. I am brighter and stormier than that. :) Maybe I need to find a way to combine some of these into real column works. I will have to see but for now, here is the draft box and in you go. I know, I know, I have to make some choices because I have to publish some of this eventually.
Did you ever notice that people don't concern themselves with days? I mean, days of the week. For example, what day of the week did you get married? We always know the specific date. Believe me, spouses make sure we know that, but what about the day? My baby girl was born on a Saturday but I didn't actually take the time to check that until someone asked me. What day of the week were you born on? Your kids? If you aren't married or don't have children then what about this, what day of the week did you graduate? Your senior prom? How about your birthday this year? People don't take these things into consideration and I am pretty sure that no one ever thought about this until now except me anyway. Think about it, one day there will be no more days of the week. One day, you just run out of days. There will be no more Tuesdays, no more Saturday nights. I know this is a no brainer but I was thinking about this at midnight yesterday, which was actually technically this morning, when my digital watch rolled over to read Monday instead of Sunday. I thought to myself, 'when my life is done, my watch will still keep on changing the days'. That is if my watch lasts that long which is doubtful so I am, of course, referring to a hypothetical watch that I might own somewhere down the line in the future. Interesting, no? I thought so. I do think too much. :) I've really gotta get some sleep for sure or else I am just going to keep on continuously posting things that make no sense and will inevitably send the guys in the white coats over here to double check my sanity.
My brain storms. It thunders and it flashes with lightning. I mean it, it is perpetually cloudy and raining up there in this great, big head of mine. (Ego pun intended). Not just April showers either but those impressive, clapping thunderstorms with crackling displays of light. Honestly, and my brain doesn't shut down or off like other people. It is an ongoing process and I sometimes need a distraction to buzz away all of the fluttery thoughts, especially when I am trying to sleep. If I just let my brain go and do it's thing then that is when I end up writing until the sun comes up. I believe I have too much to say for my own good. I have all of these half finished posts because I get these great brain waves that turn into unique ideas to write about but then I write half of it and decide to add on to it a little later. I end up with all of this riff raff of half posts and ideas just sloppily scattered across pages and pages of the blog edit room. I keep promising myself that I will finish at least one of these mind scraps before starting a new one, but my thoughts are so tangled and complicated that it is difficult to keep them all organized and lined up single file long enough to finish what I was writing in the first place. I will be halfway through one post and I will get a bright idea that I just have to jot down quickly before it disappears completely and of course there isn't a scrap of paper in my house, not even one, having checked. I also get writer's block easily so I will put one idea on hold and move on to the next one. I find that I want to add a bit more to my posts but I have to do some research first or I want to write in a certain way so I have to take the time to proof it. I then end up with a backlog of half posts that either need research or editing in order to go to press. So be it. See, now this post will also go into the draft pile because I don't really know what else to put in it and until I can figure that out, it goes into unfinished business. I need to add quotes, a bit about the news etc. I don't want to just post a bunch of bits and pieces. I am brighter and stormier than that. :) Maybe I need to find a way to combine some of these into real column works. I will have to see but for now, here is the draft box and in you go. I know, I know, I have to make some choices because I have to publish some of this eventually.
Did you ever notice that people don't concern themselves with days? I mean, days of the week. For example, what day of the week did you get married? We always know the specific date. Believe me, spouses make sure we know that, but what about the day? My baby girl was born on a Saturday but I didn't actually take the time to check that until someone asked me. What day of the week were you born on? Your kids? If you aren't married or don't have children then what about this, what day of the week did you graduate? Your senior prom? How about your birthday this year? People don't take these things into consideration and I am pretty sure that no one ever thought about this until now except me anyway. Think about it, one day there will be no more days of the week. One day, you just run out of days. There will be no more Tuesdays, no more Saturday nights. I know this is a no brainer but I was thinking about this at midnight yesterday, which was actually technically this morning, when my digital watch rolled over to read Monday instead of Sunday. I thought to myself, 'when my life is done, my watch will still keep on changing the days'. That is if my watch lasts that long which is doubtful so I am, of course, referring to a hypothetical watch that I might own somewhere down the line in the future. Interesting, no? I thought so. I do think too much. :) I've really gotta get some sleep for sure or else I am just going to keep on continuously posting things that make no sense and will inevitably send the guys in the white coats over here to double check my sanity.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Song Lyrics
Have you ever gotten the lyrics of a popular song all wrong? Usually this is corrected only when you get drunk one night and start to sing it wildly. You insert your kooky mistaken lyric by habit and your friend's have a hysterical laugh at your expense for the rest of the night. Yet something about your brain just doesn't register properly and for the rest of all time, every time you hear that song, you still sing it differently. This has happened to me on numerous occasions. I have different lyric combinations for all sorts of different songs and I can't shake them no matter how many times I remind myself that the lyrics are wrong. For example, for the longest time, I had always thought that "More human than human." was actually, "For you've been the best that you've been." Now whenever I hear that song, even though I now know what the singer is saying, I still hear my version. We all know that "Excuse me while I kiss the sky" can easily be mistaken for "Excuse me while I kiss this guy" and many people still sing it that way. Sometimes lyrics are just added randomly from out of nowhere. For example, where, in the entire lyric list for "Mony Mony" by Billy Idol, is that inappropriate line that I know you all have heard but I won't repeat here. It must have just been added along the line somewhere. Was probably just some drunk frat boy at a party, I'm sure.
A friend of mine went to a wedding and the father of the groom was quite intoxicated. He went up to the DJ and demanded that he play "Slow Motion Walter". The DJ was thoroughly confused and said that he had never heard of the song. The groom's father insisted that it was a popular song and that the DJ must have it. Again the DJ assured him that he had never heard of the song but maybe if the man were to sing a little bit of it then he might recognize it. The shiny nosed, fairly robust man cleared his throat and belted out to the tune of Smoke on the Water: "Slow motion Walter! The fire engine guy!" That makes a DJ's day, I am sure of it.
Now that I have a child, I find that I am also mistaking the lyrics to some of her favourite TV shows and sometimes I have to listen more carefully because some of these songs, harmless as they are for children, cause us adults, with our brains rolling around in the filthy gutter, to do a stern double take. And who can forget Dora and Diego. I can't even get the English lyrics right and now cartoons are expecting me to sing along in Spanish as well. I don't have a hope.
Did you know that the tune of twinkle, twinkle little star is also used for the alphabet song? After having worked with many children I have noticed that they don't realize this. They truly believe that they are singing a completely different tune because there are different lyrics. Even if you sing both songs back to back. Also, I can sing all sorts of different tunes to my baby and she will just keep playing and not really notice but as soon as I sing anything to the tune of 'Come Josephine, In My Flying Machine', she immediately takes interest and stares at me in wonder. She absolutely loves that song and it is the only way to get her attention sometimes.
Come Josephine, In My Flying Machine
Oh, say! Let us fly, dear
Where, kid?
To the sky dear
Oh, you flying machine!
Jump in Miss Josephine
Ship Ahoy!
Oh, joy! What a feeling
Feels cold, thru the ceiling. Ho, high!
Hoopla, we fly! To the sky so high
Chorus:
Come Josephine, in my flying machine
Going up, she goes! Up she goes!
Balance yourself like a bird on a beam
In the air she goes; there she goes!
Up, up, a little bit higher.
Oh, my! The moon is on fire.
Come, Josephine in my flying machine
Going up, all on, "Goodbye"
(Repeat Chorus)
One, two, now we're off, dear.
Oh, you, pretty soft, dear.
Whoa! Say! Don't hit the moon.
Oh, no, not yet but soon. You for me,
Oh, gee! You're a fly kid.
Not me, I'm a sky kid.
Gee! I'm up in the air about you for fair
(Repeat Chorus)
If you want to hear the tune then go to this link
A friend of mine went to a wedding and the father of the groom was quite intoxicated. He went up to the DJ and demanded that he play "Slow Motion Walter". The DJ was thoroughly confused and said that he had never heard of the song. The groom's father insisted that it was a popular song and that the DJ must have it. Again the DJ assured him that he had never heard of the song but maybe if the man were to sing a little bit of it then he might recognize it. The shiny nosed, fairly robust man cleared his throat and belted out to the tune of Smoke on the Water: "Slow motion Walter! The fire engine guy!" That makes a DJ's day, I am sure of it.
Now that I have a child, I find that I am also mistaking the lyrics to some of her favourite TV shows and sometimes I have to listen more carefully because some of these songs, harmless as they are for children, cause us adults, with our brains rolling around in the filthy gutter, to do a stern double take. And who can forget Dora and Diego. I can't even get the English lyrics right and now cartoons are expecting me to sing along in Spanish as well. I don't have a hope.
Did you know that the tune of twinkle, twinkle little star is also used for the alphabet song? After having worked with many children I have noticed that they don't realize this. They truly believe that they are singing a completely different tune because there are different lyrics. Even if you sing both songs back to back. Also, I can sing all sorts of different tunes to my baby and she will just keep playing and not really notice but as soon as I sing anything to the tune of 'Come Josephine, In My Flying Machine', she immediately takes interest and stares at me in wonder. She absolutely loves that song and it is the only way to get her attention sometimes.
Come Josephine, In My Flying Machine
Oh, say! Let us fly, dear
Where, kid?
To the sky dear
Oh, you flying machine!
Jump in Miss Josephine
Ship Ahoy!
Oh, joy! What a feeling
Feels cold, thru the ceiling. Ho, high!
Hoopla, we fly! To the sky so high
Chorus:
Come Josephine, in my flying machine
Going up, she goes! Up she goes!
Balance yourself like a bird on a beam
In the air she goes; there she goes!
Up, up, a little bit higher.
Oh, my! The moon is on fire.
Come, Josephine in my flying machine
Going up, all on, "Goodbye"
(Repeat Chorus)
One, two, now we're off, dear.
Oh, you, pretty soft, dear.
Whoa! Say! Don't hit the moon.
Oh, no, not yet but soon. You for me,
Oh, gee! You're a fly kid.
Not me, I'm a sky kid.
Gee! I'm up in the air about you for fair
(Repeat Chorus)
If you want to hear the tune then go to this link
Friday, October 17, 2008
In My Shoes
Quote for today: The beginning of all knowledge and wisdom is to desire it.
I have emerged at last. Not exactly a beautiful, shimmery butterfly but alive and kicking nonetheless. At least I have showered so I have accomplished something. I have a dream, it is to not smell swanky. I know, it doesn't impact in quite the same way as Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech. I am still equivocal to a shining beacon of light on my pedestal of example though. At least, that is how I feel considering the enormous wad of energy it took. I should be crowned queen, if only for the day. Basically, I am no longer just puttering about in my pajamas endlessly with no regard to what day it is or what time for that matter. What is it about the grey sky days that make you want to curl up in a ball and hermit away for eternity? I think it must be a study in psychology. I don't think that I could exist somewhere where it poured rain all of the time. I believe that I would become perpetually depressed and inevitably late for everything. Time seems to elude me in this state. I wonder how people cope with it. We all know that the British are generally pretty dry so I guess it wouldn't really bother them that much. Anyway, that is what I have been doing for the past couple of days, just lounging in. Lo and behold, the sun decides to shine today and so do I. We head out, just me and the baby, for breakfast in the park and then a grocery shop to stock up on supplies that we might need for the next lockdown. I used to do this a lot in college and university when I used to live alone for a number of years at a time. My alone being a safe haven where I could escape, hide, retreat, set up camp for days at a time in front of my less than essential TV. I would disappear for weeks on end, not answering phones, ignoring the world and only emerging for necessities like school and work, sometimes food. This was when I did my best writing also. I would sometimes lose track of all time and continue writing straight through until the sun peeked up. This went on of course until my friends would start pounding my door down with the SWAT team. Which would be an over exaggeration only if my apartment building weren't in such a seedy neighbourhood wherein I actually did have to house a stakeout when there was an armed man across my alley. What concerned me the most about this ordeal, you ask? Certainly not a grisly demise or at least sudden death. No, I was livid that the officers tracked in mud all over my newly washed floors with their boots. I don't even think they ever got their man.
Don't you just hate those big, bold, life changing thoughts that, before you can put them to words, immediately dissipate into thin air. That is what this post was supposed to be. A mental breakthrough based on the emotionally charged thought particle that went zinging by my brain this morning for one instant. Alas, I have forgotten what it was that I was trying so hard to point out and therefore I will never become the brazenly enlightened intellectual that I hoped so much to be.
I have decided though instead that I am the biggest klutz in the universe. If it is there to drop, I will be there to drop it. If it is worth anything, I will spill on it. If it is big enough to trip over, I will find it to stub most of my toes on at least a few times per day. If I move it because I keep tripping on it, I will then trip on it in it's new location. I am a banister girl and I find myself wondering why life doesn't come with more handles. (not the love type, got plenty of those thank you very much.) Alas, I am the type of person that trips and stubs their toes on the carpet divider. You know, those little metal things that they lay down to divide carpet and smooth flooring. Why oh why do they have these things?!! Sadly, I believe I am the only one who laments this. I have discovered of late that most of this klutziness is obviously my own fault. I try to multi-task. I, in fact, have a whole hearted, genuine belief that I am capable of multi-tasking which I am, basically, with two teeny, tiny exceptions that might actually be found in the fine print of my life somewhere:
1. I can not multi-task without klutzing all over the tasks that I am multi-tasking.
2. I can not multi-task or do any task for that matter, at the speed of light (which sucks for I would like to be able to do that). Sigh.
I do try though and it can be entertaining. Here is a rundown of how it goes in my head:
Make supper, do laundry, feed baby, give baby a bath.
Now here is how it usually plays out in real life:
Put supper pot on stove to boil.
Run down and put laundry in.
Back up to run bathwater.
Feed baby in high chair.
Then:
Bathwater overflows onto floor which becomes slippery when wet. Pick self up off of floor and turn off water. Mop up.
Pot boils over so run to grab pot with dish towel which catches fire. Throw dish towel in sink and turn water on.
Hungry baby in high chair screaming.
Feed baby.
Sink overflows onto floor which becomes slippery when wet. Pick self and baby's supper up off of floor and turn off water. Mop up.
Hungry baby in high chair still screaming.
Feed baby.
Meanwhile the laundry runs the entire cycle doing nothing because I neglect to close the lid.
Ever have one of these days? Welcome to the story of my life. I have realized that multi-tasking merely leads to me trying to avoid the simultaneous burning and flooding of the house.
I have emerged at last. Not exactly a beautiful, shimmery butterfly but alive and kicking nonetheless. At least I have showered so I have accomplished something. I have a dream, it is to not smell swanky. I know, it doesn't impact in quite the same way as Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech. I am still equivocal to a shining beacon of light on my pedestal of example though. At least, that is how I feel considering the enormous wad of energy it took. I should be crowned queen, if only for the day. Basically, I am no longer just puttering about in my pajamas endlessly with no regard to what day it is or what time for that matter. What is it about the grey sky days that make you want to curl up in a ball and hermit away for eternity? I think it must be a study in psychology. I don't think that I could exist somewhere where it poured rain all of the time. I believe that I would become perpetually depressed and inevitably late for everything. Time seems to elude me in this state. I wonder how people cope with it. We all know that the British are generally pretty dry so I guess it wouldn't really bother them that much. Anyway, that is what I have been doing for the past couple of days, just lounging in. Lo and behold, the sun decides to shine today and so do I. We head out, just me and the baby, for breakfast in the park and then a grocery shop to stock up on supplies that we might need for the next lockdown. I used to do this a lot in college and university when I used to live alone for a number of years at a time. My alone being a safe haven where I could escape, hide, retreat, set up camp for days at a time in front of my less than essential TV. I would disappear for weeks on end, not answering phones, ignoring the world and only emerging for necessities like school and work, sometimes food. This was when I did my best writing also. I would sometimes lose track of all time and continue writing straight through until the sun peeked up. This went on of course until my friends would start pounding my door down with the SWAT team. Which would be an over exaggeration only if my apartment building weren't in such a seedy neighbourhood wherein I actually did have to house a stakeout when there was an armed man across my alley. What concerned me the most about this ordeal, you ask? Certainly not a grisly demise or at least sudden death. No, I was livid that the officers tracked in mud all over my newly washed floors with their boots. I don't even think they ever got their man.
Don't you just hate those big, bold, life changing thoughts that, before you can put them to words, immediately dissipate into thin air. That is what this post was supposed to be. A mental breakthrough based on the emotionally charged thought particle that went zinging by my brain this morning for one instant. Alas, I have forgotten what it was that I was trying so hard to point out and therefore I will never become the brazenly enlightened intellectual that I hoped so much to be.
I have decided though instead that I am the biggest klutz in the universe. If it is there to drop, I will be there to drop it. If it is worth anything, I will spill on it. If it is big enough to trip over, I will find it to stub most of my toes on at least a few times per day. If I move it because I keep tripping on it, I will then trip on it in it's new location. I am a banister girl and I find myself wondering why life doesn't come with more handles. (not the love type, got plenty of those thank you very much.) Alas, I am the type of person that trips and stubs their toes on the carpet divider. You know, those little metal things that they lay down to divide carpet and smooth flooring. Why oh why do they have these things?!! Sadly, I believe I am the only one who laments this. I have discovered of late that most of this klutziness is obviously my own fault. I try to multi-task. I, in fact, have a whole hearted, genuine belief that I am capable of multi-tasking which I am, basically, with two teeny, tiny exceptions that might actually be found in the fine print of my life somewhere:
1. I can not multi-task without klutzing all over the tasks that I am multi-tasking.
2. I can not multi-task or do any task for that matter, at the speed of light (which sucks for I would like to be able to do that). Sigh.
I do try though and it can be entertaining. Here is a rundown of how it goes in my head:
Make supper, do laundry, feed baby, give baby a bath.
Now here is how it usually plays out in real life:
Put supper pot on stove to boil.
Run down and put laundry in.
Back up to run bathwater.
Feed baby in high chair.
Then:
Bathwater overflows onto floor which becomes slippery when wet. Pick self up off of floor and turn off water. Mop up.
Pot boils over so run to grab pot with dish towel which catches fire. Throw dish towel in sink and turn water on.
Hungry baby in high chair screaming.
Feed baby.
Sink overflows onto floor which becomes slippery when wet. Pick self and baby's supper up off of floor and turn off water. Mop up.
Hungry baby in high chair still screaming.
Feed baby.
Meanwhile the laundry runs the entire cycle doing nothing because I neglect to close the lid.
Ever have one of these days? Welcome to the story of my life. I have realized that multi-tasking merely leads to me trying to avoid the simultaneous burning and flooding of the house.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Why My Hair Looks This Way
Quote for Today: Quitters never win and winners never quit. Today, I choose to be a winner.
I am knitting. Day in and day out, I keep knitting and knitting. I am making baby toques. I could just go out and buy some but I found this really cute design and have convinced myself that I would like to knit. I started out making scarves a few years ago. Those were easier, just knit all in a row for about 500 rows and you have a scarf. Hats and toques are a bit more complicated. The thing about knitting is that it is about the most complicated and frustrating past time that I have ever encountered. The idea behind it is quite simple. You are technically just making a bunch of slipknots and connecting them all together to make a swath of scarf or hat. It is an easy concept and I assume I am getting better at it however, the most annoying thing about knitting is that one little error. It only takes one. It could be a slip of the mind, a wandering eye, a flash of distraction and crapola, you drop a stitch. Now this is what dropped stitches while knitting are all about. You are supposed to, hypothetically maybe, stitch them right back into line the next time around. This however, can not be done. I have tried and tried and can't for the life of me get my dropped stitches to close up. Inevitably, I end up with holes in all of my stitching. This means that said hat/toque is full of holes the size of your fingertip. This will not do, I am afraid because a hat full of holes is not really that useful, I suppose. Especially in the cold weather. If it was a scarf, it might be done. So I take it all apart, stitch by stitch and I am proud of myself because even though I have to knit probably more than half of it all over again, I don't have to start from stitch one. So I begin again. The main thing about a dropped stitch is that you also don't notice it until you are nearly done. Then it preys on your mind and eats at you like a sick thing. You can't stop looking at it. You can't help noticing it but you don't want to start all over again so you justify. Couldn't it just be covered up with a tacky flower or something? You get so distracted by this one dropped stitch that you continue on with another dropped stitch and another until your entire project is going to be covered in tacky flowers if you don't do something about it. I want to rip my hair out. Instead, I will start all over again. Don't you dare telephone me.
Detours for driver's: Avoid Dunmore hill like the plague. It is permanently construction season on that hill. I was stuck waiting for the light that crosses Kingsway Road for about half an hour or so. Medicine Hat is not built for traffic so when we do have construction going on or a crazy rush hour out of nowhere, everything is backed up for miles because there is nowhere for the extra traffic to go. Those honourable men and women who built this city obviously did not build for growth. For some reason, the city planners decided that Medicine Hat would remain as is so therefore, there is no room at the Inn here people! This is not a place for change! Do not move here! Since we don't have space for you, all you are doing is aggravating those of us around you who were here first! You are hogging up all of the itty bitty road!! If your name isn't in the archives at City Hall then you have to git! (Of course mine probably isn't there either and I don't know if there are even any archives but it's just a shot in the dark. Really, it is about time to build some more overpasses or something!!)
Quick update of In the News:
To quote Steven Harper in his election night speech, "To every thing there is a season." Ecclesiastes 3:1
Thank you for the vote of confidence Steve. Now we can rest easy knowing that you too, like all things, will pass.
At least Harper did not get his majority government which means I can do the happy dance. Even though Stephane Dion will be stepping down as leader of the Liberals, the Conservatives will still have action heroes Bob Rae and Michael Ignatieff to answer to if they want to make any decisions at all. So in other words, they have to work together and cooperate like good boys and girls which is what they should have all done to begin with. Alas, most are too greedy and want all the power to themselves. Sad thing is, now nothing will get done because there will just be a bunch of infighting until the next election. Politicians agree on something? Ha!!! Fat chance!! At least parliament caucus meetings will be more interesting. Popcorn anyone?
I am adding this link because it suits the atmosphere of this year's election. Also because I am a big fan of Jon Stewart. So check it out:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20081016.wvdaily_canelectio1016/VideoStory/VideoLineup/Pick
Up too late again. Drat. :( Nite nite folks.
I am knitting. Day in and day out, I keep knitting and knitting. I am making baby toques. I could just go out and buy some but I found this really cute design and have convinced myself that I would like to knit. I started out making scarves a few years ago. Those were easier, just knit all in a row for about 500 rows and you have a scarf. Hats and toques are a bit more complicated. The thing about knitting is that it is about the most complicated and frustrating past time that I have ever encountered. The idea behind it is quite simple. You are technically just making a bunch of slipknots and connecting them all together to make a swath of scarf or hat. It is an easy concept and I assume I am getting better at it however, the most annoying thing about knitting is that one little error. It only takes one. It could be a slip of the mind, a wandering eye, a flash of distraction and crapola, you drop a stitch. Now this is what dropped stitches while knitting are all about. You are supposed to, hypothetically maybe, stitch them right back into line the next time around. This however, can not be done. I have tried and tried and can't for the life of me get my dropped stitches to close up. Inevitably, I end up with holes in all of my stitching. This means that said hat/toque is full of holes the size of your fingertip. This will not do, I am afraid because a hat full of holes is not really that useful, I suppose. Especially in the cold weather. If it was a scarf, it might be done. So I take it all apart, stitch by stitch and I am proud of myself because even though I have to knit probably more than half of it all over again, I don't have to start from stitch one. So I begin again. The main thing about a dropped stitch is that you also don't notice it until you are nearly done. Then it preys on your mind and eats at you like a sick thing. You can't stop looking at it. You can't help noticing it but you don't want to start all over again so you justify. Couldn't it just be covered up with a tacky flower or something? You get so distracted by this one dropped stitch that you continue on with another dropped stitch and another until your entire project is going to be covered in tacky flowers if you don't do something about it. I want to rip my hair out. Instead, I will start all over again. Don't you dare telephone me.
Detours for driver's: Avoid Dunmore hill like the plague. It is permanently construction season on that hill. I was stuck waiting for the light that crosses Kingsway Road for about half an hour or so. Medicine Hat is not built for traffic so when we do have construction going on or a crazy rush hour out of nowhere, everything is backed up for miles because there is nowhere for the extra traffic to go. Those honourable men and women who built this city obviously did not build for growth. For some reason, the city planners decided that Medicine Hat would remain as is so therefore, there is no room at the Inn here people! This is not a place for change! Do not move here! Since we don't have space for you, all you are doing is aggravating those of us around you who were here first! You are hogging up all of the itty bitty road!! If your name isn't in the archives at City Hall then you have to git! (Of course mine probably isn't there either and I don't know if there are even any archives but it's just a shot in the dark. Really, it is about time to build some more overpasses or something!!)
Quick update of In the News:
To quote Steven Harper in his election night speech, "To every thing there is a season." Ecclesiastes 3:1
Thank you for the vote of confidence Steve. Now we can rest easy knowing that you too, like all things, will pass.
At least Harper did not get his majority government which means I can do the happy dance. Even though Stephane Dion will be stepping down as leader of the Liberals, the Conservatives will still have action heroes Bob Rae and Michael Ignatieff to answer to if they want to make any decisions at all. So in other words, they have to work together and cooperate like good boys and girls which is what they should have all done to begin with. Alas, most are too greedy and want all the power to themselves. Sad thing is, now nothing will get done because there will just be a bunch of infighting until the next election. Politicians agree on something? Ha!!! Fat chance!! At least parliament caucus meetings will be more interesting. Popcorn anyone?
I am adding this link because it suits the atmosphere of this year's election. Also because I am a big fan of Jon Stewart. So check it out:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20081016.wvdaily_canelectio1016/VideoStory/VideoLineup/Pick
Up too late again. Drat. :( Nite nite folks.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Red Raspberry Leaf
Quote for Today: "As I look into the future, chock full of possibilities, I often wonder what it is that we will know better than to do."
Ladies, this is for you. All who suffer with the dreaded monthly curse, I just have to let you in on my new discovery. I, like many others before me, have been dependent on dozens of painkillers for years to get me through that time of the month. I have finally found something that really works for me. Not just to numb the pain but to actually decrease the horror show as well. Red Raspberry Leaf. This comes in tea or tablet form but it must be the leaves, not the fruit. I have been taking this just before as well as during for the past three months and it has worked tremendously. I have cut down enormously on the amount of painkillers that I need and I am able to actually exist and accomplish my daily routine. I should have known about this years ago but it is an herbal remedy and therefore not FDA approved which means that no one tells you about it, there is no recommended dosage nor does anyone tell you what else it can be used for. Grateful for the age of the internet, I studied up on it a bit and it seems that it also works miracles for child birth (not that I am ever doing that again, thank you very much) as well as many other conditions. No major research or published findings can be located about this besides the recreational tests done by midwives and doulas and much of this information is conveniently undocumented. That just goes to show really, a remedy for a woman's troubles is out there and available for you to use right now and yet no one, not even your doctor, will tell you about it. I believe this is a ploy by the drug companies to ensure that you continue to use and buy their drugs instead of finding a natural cure that, in fact, you can grow for yourself in your own backyard. My doula was the one who told me to take it in the first place but I neglected to heed her advice, moronically, to my own disadvantage and hardship. This major discovery on my part leaves me to wonder. What else, besides herbal remedies, are they simply not telling us about?
"I wish I knew all that I know now and still had those thighs." The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.
Ladies, this is for you. All who suffer with the dreaded monthly curse, I just have to let you in on my new discovery. I, like many others before me, have been dependent on dozens of painkillers for years to get me through that time of the month. I have finally found something that really works for me. Not just to numb the pain but to actually decrease the horror show as well. Red Raspberry Leaf. This comes in tea or tablet form but it must be the leaves, not the fruit. I have been taking this just before as well as during for the past three months and it has worked tremendously. I have cut down enormously on the amount of painkillers that I need and I am able to actually exist and accomplish my daily routine. I should have known about this years ago but it is an herbal remedy and therefore not FDA approved which means that no one tells you about it, there is no recommended dosage nor does anyone tell you what else it can be used for. Grateful for the age of the internet, I studied up on it a bit and it seems that it also works miracles for child birth (not that I am ever doing that again, thank you very much) as well as many other conditions. No major research or published findings can be located about this besides the recreational tests done by midwives and doulas and much of this information is conveniently undocumented. That just goes to show really, a remedy for a woman's troubles is out there and available for you to use right now and yet no one, not even your doctor, will tell you about it. I believe this is a ploy by the drug companies to ensure that you continue to use and buy their drugs instead of finding a natural cure that, in fact, you can grow for yourself in your own backyard. My doula was the one who told me to take it in the first place but I neglected to heed her advice, moronically, to my own disadvantage and hardship. This major discovery on my part leaves me to wonder. What else, besides herbal remedies, are they simply not telling us about?
"I wish I knew all that I know now and still had those thighs." The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.
Interview with Stephane Dion-CTV News
Have you seen the video of Stephane Dion's interview with CTV? The one where he didn't understand the question? If you would like to view it then go to this link:
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=mv-5biChVrA
This is so incredibly ridiculous. I am an English teacher and I know exactly why Dion ends up having trouble with this question and it has nothing to do with him not being able to speak English, but the way that the question is phrased makes absolutely no sense. Here is the question that Steve Murphy asked him: If you were prime minister now, what would you have done about the economy and this crisis that Mr. Harper has not done?
What the hell kind of question is that? I think you ought to go back and learn your own subjunctive tense Mr. Steve Murphy of the CTV news. This is like saying, "If you lived in the White House now, what would you have done about the Watergate scandal?" It simply doesn't make any sense. I think it was worded in that way to purposely trip up Dion because in French this doesn't properly translate. Even the English version of it barely makes sense. They basically want Dion to explain what he would do if he could become prime minister right now in the present tense and then go back in time to succeed where Steven Harper has failed in terms of the economic crisis. Dion obviously tries to make sense of it and concludes that Murphy must mean "If you were prime minister now then what would you do about the economic crisis." Present tense. Of course Dion is not entirely sure though. Steve Murphy is trying to ask, "If you had been prime minister, rather than Steven Harper, then what would you have done differently to avoid the economic crisis." Past tense. In reality, the question comes across as a jumble between past and present tense. No wonder Dion stumbles over it!! Learn your English Steve Murphy! Now everyone is bashing Stephane Dion because they believe him to be stupid and unable to speak the English language. Watch the video, decide for yourself. On another note, in recent french debates, Steven Harper wasn't exactly elegant in his attempts to 'parle le francais' either. It is mandatory in Canada that federal election candidates are bi-lingual and Harper is only just a smidge over that borderline but besides a few Francophones who took offense to his accent, not many others seem to be noticing.
http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=mv-5biChVrA
This is so incredibly ridiculous. I am an English teacher and I know exactly why Dion ends up having trouble with this question and it has nothing to do with him not being able to speak English, but the way that the question is phrased makes absolutely no sense. Here is the question that Steve Murphy asked him: If you were prime minister now, what would you have done about the economy and this crisis that Mr. Harper has not done?
What the hell kind of question is that? I think you ought to go back and learn your own subjunctive tense Mr. Steve Murphy of the CTV news. This is like saying, "If you lived in the White House now, what would you have done about the Watergate scandal?" It simply doesn't make any sense. I think it was worded in that way to purposely trip up Dion because in French this doesn't properly translate. Even the English version of it barely makes sense. They basically want Dion to explain what he would do if he could become prime minister right now in the present tense and then go back in time to succeed where Steven Harper has failed in terms of the economic crisis. Dion obviously tries to make sense of it and concludes that Murphy must mean "If you were prime minister now then what would you do about the economic crisis." Present tense. Of course Dion is not entirely sure though. Steve Murphy is trying to ask, "If you had been prime minister, rather than Steven Harper, then what would you have done differently to avoid the economic crisis." Past tense. In reality, the question comes across as a jumble between past and present tense. No wonder Dion stumbles over it!! Learn your English Steve Murphy! Now everyone is bashing Stephane Dion because they believe him to be stupid and unable to speak the English language. Watch the video, decide for yourself. On another note, in recent french debates, Steven Harper wasn't exactly elegant in his attempts to 'parle le francais' either. It is mandatory in Canada that federal election candidates are bi-lingual and Harper is only just a smidge over that borderline but besides a few Francophones who took offense to his accent, not many others seem to be noticing.
Here's Me, Blogging Away
I think I am going to have to think up some actual titles for my blogs sooner or later but I can't think of anything clever at the time so I just give it some rubbish name that will probably come back to haunt me when all of my blog posts are inevitably called, "Whatever And So On And So Forth."
Quote for today: No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if Clod be washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee. -John Donne
Did you know that your nose keeps growing and growing long after the rest of your face has decided on exactly the right size that it wants to be? I have been thinking about this a lot lately. See for yourself. Go take a look in the mirror and try to remember back. Were you able to stick that many fingers up there before? How about the contents of your nose? Did it really take you 20 average kleenex to do a thorough spring cleaning up there before? Was it really that thick of a jungle in there or has it just been slowly, silently growing more and more wild and out of control as the years pass? I, for one, would gladly take my cute as a button 20 year old nose back. I wonder how these noses grow? Do they grow down or out? And how does the rest of my face compensate for it? Look out cheeks and lips! Move on over! Make way for this brand spanking, new fangled, twenty-first century nose, a lot like the old nose, only roomier. That's right, a bigger hard drive and more RAM. The reason that I can't wrap my head around the whole nose issue is that as grown ups, we are just that. Grown up. As in fully grown. No more growing to do. At least that is what I thought and I was comfortable with that. I would remain this height, I would hopefully maintain this weight with a little work. I am a finished product and I am satisfied with the results. Until this completely out of my control nose thing. Now I am not too sure. My nose is one of my fave attributes about my face after having been granted a too wide smile, too square jawline, too small eyes, non-existent lashes and zero chance at shapely, supermodel brows. At first I thought that it was just a myth but now I am experiencing it for certain and I am becoming more and more wary and untrusting of this faithful, old nose that I have grown accustomed to. How big can noses get? Is there a limit to how much your nose actually can grow? Eyes, on the other hand, never grow. They are the same size when you are born as they will be for the rest of your life. That is why little babies, even baby animals, are such cute, cuddly adorable little things. Mother nature purposely makes them look utterly helpless and forlorn with their giant, watery eyes to ensure that they look pitiful enough to the rest of us so to guarantee that one of us poor fools will be roped into properly caring for this adorable wee thing that poops everywhere.
Your hair and fingernails never stop growing, even after you die. The 'eww' factor on that is fairly high though so I am not going to go into it.
I wish my neighbour would stop using his chainsaw all day every day. I think that he must have just purchased the thing. Men usually do that. Get a new tool and try to find bizarre new uses for it all day long every day until the novelty wears off or the thing breaks because they were trying to do something that the instruction manual clearly stated that they shouldn't do. Who reads instruction manuals anyway. I don't understand what the hell he is chainsawing though! He goes on and on chainsawing for hours and hours on end. I mean, I thought that a chainsaw was the real deal, a couple of good swipes and you're done. Unless he is performing the Texas Chainsaw Massacre over there then I have no earthly idea of what he needs to be constantly chainsawing for. For example, you need to cut down a tree? Fine, you get out your trusty chainsaw and you cut the damn thing down in three, maybe four strokes? It all depends how big round the tree is, which way the wind is blowing, how many beers you have had etc. However, regardless of all of these variables, it does not take you five bloody hours of chainsawing to get the tree down. So please, someone, enlighten me as to what exactly does take five bloody hours of constant chainsawing! Honestly, he never quits! Take a break buddy! Go and have a sandwich! Anything to stop the incessant chainsawing!! I have been staring at this dude out of my front window like the crazy cat lady all day. He has been standing in front of this one tree stump in his yard for hours chainsawing. Dude! Your chainsaw is not working! I mean, it's working alright, it just obviously is not the right tool for the job! Whatever the hell that job might be. The most amusing thing though is that his wife has been sitting out there on the lawn watching him since about 9:00am yesterday morning. Give up the vigil woman. He is not going to put the chainsaw down long enough for you smash it to bits. Goes to show, you shouldn't have bought it for him in the first place. Now, slowly but surely, the walls of your house will come crashing down one by one so that you think you must have termites but you won't, and he will promise that he will fix it just as soon as you buy him that neat table saw and power drill set that he has been ogling about as much as he used to ogle you. As if we really wanted to be ogled anyway, what a funny word. The wonderful thing about all of this is that the chainsawing always starts all of the dogs in the neighbourhood barking. Lovely, now I have a symphony.
Quote for today: No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if Clod be washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee. -John Donne
Did you know that your nose keeps growing and growing long after the rest of your face has decided on exactly the right size that it wants to be? I have been thinking about this a lot lately. See for yourself. Go take a look in the mirror and try to remember back. Were you able to stick that many fingers up there before? How about the contents of your nose? Did it really take you 20 average kleenex to do a thorough spring cleaning up there before? Was it really that thick of a jungle in there or has it just been slowly, silently growing more and more wild and out of control as the years pass? I, for one, would gladly take my cute as a button 20 year old nose back. I wonder how these noses grow? Do they grow down or out? And how does the rest of my face compensate for it? Look out cheeks and lips! Move on over! Make way for this brand spanking, new fangled, twenty-first century nose, a lot like the old nose, only roomier. That's right, a bigger hard drive and more RAM. The reason that I can't wrap my head around the whole nose issue is that as grown ups, we are just that. Grown up. As in fully grown. No more growing to do. At least that is what I thought and I was comfortable with that. I would remain this height, I would hopefully maintain this weight with a little work. I am a finished product and I am satisfied with the results. Until this completely out of my control nose thing. Now I am not too sure. My nose is one of my fave attributes about my face after having been granted a too wide smile, too square jawline, too small eyes, non-existent lashes and zero chance at shapely, supermodel brows. At first I thought that it was just a myth but now I am experiencing it for certain and I am becoming more and more wary and untrusting of this faithful, old nose that I have grown accustomed to. How big can noses get? Is there a limit to how much your nose actually can grow? Eyes, on the other hand, never grow. They are the same size when you are born as they will be for the rest of your life. That is why little babies, even baby animals, are such cute, cuddly adorable little things. Mother nature purposely makes them look utterly helpless and forlorn with their giant, watery eyes to ensure that they look pitiful enough to the rest of us so to guarantee that one of us poor fools will be roped into properly caring for this adorable wee thing that poops everywhere.
Your hair and fingernails never stop growing, even after you die. The 'eww' factor on that is fairly high though so I am not going to go into it.
I wish my neighbour would stop using his chainsaw all day every day. I think that he must have just purchased the thing. Men usually do that. Get a new tool and try to find bizarre new uses for it all day long every day until the novelty wears off or the thing breaks because they were trying to do something that the instruction manual clearly stated that they shouldn't do. Who reads instruction manuals anyway. I don't understand what the hell he is chainsawing though! He goes on and on chainsawing for hours and hours on end. I mean, I thought that a chainsaw was the real deal, a couple of good swipes and you're done. Unless he is performing the Texas Chainsaw Massacre over there then I have no earthly idea of what he needs to be constantly chainsawing for. For example, you need to cut down a tree? Fine, you get out your trusty chainsaw and you cut the damn thing down in three, maybe four strokes? It all depends how big round the tree is, which way the wind is blowing, how many beers you have had etc. However, regardless of all of these variables, it does not take you five bloody hours of chainsawing to get the tree down. So please, someone, enlighten me as to what exactly does take five bloody hours of constant chainsawing! Honestly, he never quits! Take a break buddy! Go and have a sandwich! Anything to stop the incessant chainsawing!! I have been staring at this dude out of my front window like the crazy cat lady all day. He has been standing in front of this one tree stump in his yard for hours chainsawing. Dude! Your chainsaw is not working! I mean, it's working alright, it just obviously is not the right tool for the job! Whatever the hell that job might be. The most amusing thing though is that his wife has been sitting out there on the lawn watching him since about 9:00am yesterday morning. Give up the vigil woman. He is not going to put the chainsaw down long enough for you smash it to bits. Goes to show, you shouldn't have bought it for him in the first place. Now, slowly but surely, the walls of your house will come crashing down one by one so that you think you must have termites but you won't, and he will promise that he will fix it just as soon as you buy him that neat table saw and power drill set that he has been ogling about as much as he used to ogle you. As if we really wanted to be ogled anyway, what a funny word. The wonderful thing about all of this is that the chainsawing always starts all of the dogs in the neighbourhood barking. Lovely, now I have a symphony.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Go Vote on Tuesday.
Quote for today: The great danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it but that it is too low and we ultimately reach it. -Michaelangelo
I like this quote. Aim for heights that make the skeptics jeer. That is my clever, shortened version of it that I like to carry around in my head with me wherever I go. I don't know yet if I have aimed precisely high enough yet though.
I am a list person. I make lists for everything. Lists of groceries, to do lists, lists of books I own or have read or have yet to read, cd lists etc. For some reason, it just gives me a feeling of great accomplishment to cross things off of a list. It has actually become more of an achievement for me to be able to cross something off than it is to accomplish the thing itself. The reason I am blathering on about this isn't of any grand significance. Only that I went to the grocery store today and it was jammed packed. Whenever the store is jammed like that I always forget one item on my list. Only one. More than likely the only item that I actually needed and the one I was there at the store for in the first place. I just get sidetracked and I have a panicky urge to retreat from the store. I get up to the till and look down at my list and there it is, the last item, glaring up at me. Today it was potatoes. These were of uber importance because we are all making something for Thanksgiving dinner this year and I am designated potato queen. I am going to make the finest and most unique mashed potato concoction that ever graced any Thanksgiving bounty. But let me tell you, there is not even one decent spud in my house. Believe me, and I have even considered using the ones that have been sitting under my sink for a decade now at least. In fact, I think they were already here when we moved in. Ok, for those of you reading who actually have to eat this Thanksgiving catastrophe, fear not. I promise I will not venture near the potato demons living next to the Easy Off Bam. I do have one half of a sweet potato left if it really comes down to it. No, don't worry, there will be potatoes at this Thanksgiving if it means I have to go dig them out of someone's back garden. Hmm...my next door neighbour's have a garden. I wonder.
I like this quote. Aim for heights that make the skeptics jeer. That is my clever, shortened version of it that I like to carry around in my head with me wherever I go. I don't know yet if I have aimed precisely high enough yet though.
I am a list person. I make lists for everything. Lists of groceries, to do lists, lists of books I own or have read or have yet to read, cd lists etc. For some reason, it just gives me a feeling of great accomplishment to cross things off of a list. It has actually become more of an achievement for me to be able to cross something off than it is to accomplish the thing itself. The reason I am blathering on about this isn't of any grand significance. Only that I went to the grocery store today and it was jammed packed. Whenever the store is jammed like that I always forget one item on my list. Only one. More than likely the only item that I actually needed and the one I was there at the store for in the first place. I just get sidetracked and I have a panicky urge to retreat from the store. I get up to the till and look down at my list and there it is, the last item, glaring up at me. Today it was potatoes. These were of uber importance because we are all making something for Thanksgiving dinner this year and I am designated potato queen. I am going to make the finest and most unique mashed potato concoction that ever graced any Thanksgiving bounty. But let me tell you, there is not even one decent spud in my house. Believe me, and I have even considered using the ones that have been sitting under my sink for a decade now at least. In fact, I think they were already here when we moved in. Ok, for those of you reading who actually have to eat this Thanksgiving catastrophe, fear not. I promise I will not venture near the potato demons living next to the Easy Off Bam. I do have one half of a sweet potato left if it really comes down to it. No, don't worry, there will be potatoes at this Thanksgiving if it means I have to go dig them out of someone's back garden. Hmm...my next door neighbour's have a garden. I wonder.
In the News
Carbon Pricing, What is It?
There has been a lot of talk surrounding the election lately about climate change and carbon tax especially on the part of the Liberal leader Stephane Dion. Dion hopes that promoting the carbon tax will help his campaign. Now for those who don't know what this means, I will explain.
Basically, this is a tax on the carbon footprint that you leave on our planet. The amount of carbon dioxide that you emit into the atmosphere. Now they aren't about to tax us for breathing of course because that would be silly...wait, just to double check. Yup, no tax for being alive and breathing, but this is a tax for bigger polluters like factories that emit large amounts of carbon dioxide into the environment everyday and are essentially causing global warming. So these big time polluters would then be taxed for how much C02 they produce and the monies are supposed to go to cutting our personal income tax in half. Or so they say. I mean, income tax was supposed to be a short term, temporary thing to begin with along with the GST. We were allegedly supposed to be paying off all of our nation's debt with it but now they say that Canada's national debt is so high that it will probably take about 125 years to really pay it off, that is if we don't keep racking it up. Regardless, I will be worms meat by then so I now must be prepared to accept income tax as a more permanent life deal. They probably assume that my children will not be so savvy as to realize the mistakes of the past anyway and will just accept income tax and all other misdemeanors as well. Anyway, so we will see where all the money really goes. However, if this tax is implemented it could mean some pretty interesting changes around this Planet Earth. There has been talk about ensuring that Canadians have realistic alternatives in terms of energy consumption. Could this mean more solar homes, wind energy farms and electric cars? If they are going to tax me for polluting activities like driving my car then they had better offer another form of transportation. Other countries like Norway and Sweden have already implemented carbon prices. Of course when I think of those countries I always think green, oh and mostly hills and short guys in even shorter pants. Maybe a windmill or two and the world's smallest cars that you could ever possibly squeeze a human into. Hopefully this puts the oil companies in the toilet though so I don't have to pay such high gas prices. Ha ha, oops, my guy still works for the oil companies. Crap. Ok, boo to carbon pricing then because even if we greenhouse gas the place and the planet goes up in all of our green smoky smoke, I can still drive my car down the ozoneless stretch of ooze highway. Oooh, and I don't want to lose my shopping allowance either. They do say that this won't affect Canada's economy in the least but how many of us are really going to want to part with our full size gas gluttony SUV's for a wimpy, plastic smarty pants car? Nothing says tough guy like riding around in a bubbly dome, like a bumper car at the fair except supremely more dorky. I am in Alberta and I know that these big cowboys will probably need to be folded in thirds just to fit into one of those things. Might not go over too well, kinda like wearing red underpants and riding shotgun in the bullpen.
The US economy has been hit hard by the Stock Market crash. They are heading for recession and have been pouring billions of dollars into their banks, which has not been done since the Great Depression in the 1930's. Canada, however, is in the most sound financial position globally and so we should not worry although we will probably still be able to hear the mighty US whinging from across the border. We might also catch a glimpse of George Bush's head upon a stake carried by an angry mob. We will keep our hopes up. Those Americans are feisty little buggers and most of them are trigger happy so we might just get a show after all of this nonsense blows over. I know that most of them are too comfortable for their own good and would be highly insulted knowing that their country's finances are in ruins. It's enough to wound their pride, especially after having to go through that torturous week when their dollar matched and then was pummeled by ours.
Ok, I must go to bed now since I have an automatic baby alarm clock that will be going off at exactly the time that I don't want to drag my butt out from under the warm coziness. If it was painfully early then that would be fine, but my little princess always lets me sleep until I have had just enough sleep that it is torturous to emerge from my bed. This time clock changes every day. I know, I can't complain, at least she sleeps.
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