Monday, July 27, 2009

The Scrutiny of Mr. Rose

I often tease Mr. Rose (lovingly, of course) about what a girl he is. This usually comes up when he wants to snuggle on hot summer nights or talk about life. I shut that hot summer night shit down but I’m much more amenable to his talking. So he’ll talk about life and his job and his writing and challenges he’s facing, etc. I immediately roll up my sleeves and start talking solutions, here’s what you can do to fix this, have you thought about trying this approach, let’s do some research here and here. When I ask him if he’s going to follow up on my problem solving activity list he responds, no. He just wanted someone to listen.

What a girl!! What’s the point of that?!? Let’s talk solutions here people!! Let’s fix this problem and get back down to business.

Now, Mr. Rose has suggested several things that prove his manliness: season tickets for the Calgary Stampeders, long pauses on TSN whilst flipping channels, membership on a soccer team (I pointed out that the real men played forward), cultivated appreciation for boobs (okay, I just made that up. If Mr. Rose actually said something like that I would choke on my single serving lunch-time Crystal Light), inability to see the messy kitchen.

Now, I’ll grant that several of those are very manly characteristics, in the stereotypical sense in which I gauge which are and are not ‘manly’ activities (geez, I hope Lady B doesn’t kill me). But none of those things ever sat perfectly with me. None of them were the perfect morsel that explains and illustrates that yes, Mr. Rose is indeed a MAN.

Until recently.

Whilst on vacation last month Mr. Rose was walking a bit more awkwardly than his naturally awkward gait. I inquired as to said walking impediment and was informed that he thinks he may have broken a bone in his foot while playing with the aforementioned soccer team.

The other day he made the comment again. Ongoing pain in the foot in addition to the original bruising and swelling have him quite convinced that, yes, in fact a bone in there somewhere is broken.

When I inquired when he would be going to the doctor I received a rather blank look. Why would he go to the doctor, there’s probably nothing they can do.

Okay, so you might have a broken bone in your foot? You definitely have ongoing discomfort and pain. But you won’t go to the doctor because there’s probably nothing he can do?

Signed, sealed and delivered. I am hitched to a bona fide man.

And guess who’s not looking forward to convincing that man to get an annual prostate exam?

Friday, July 24, 2009

Working From Home

Working From Home: a pro/con list

  1. The temptation to nip into the kitchen and just get those dishes done. At work distractions come in the form of social interactions and the interwebs not chores.
  2. Lack of air conditioning. It's kinda hot today.
  3. A windowless office. The window in our home office opens out onto my neighbours window and I can't even look out on that 'view' whilst working at my computer.
  4. No humans! While I don't like humans very much on a large scale, I do enjoy individual humans very much.
  5. No delicious, cool, unlimited source of filtered water.


  1. I work a 7 hour day. When I work at home I can get the same amount of work done in 4 - 5 hours. Leaving 2 - 3 extra hours to get even more done!!
  2. iTunes. I can listen to Disney's Greatest Hits Volume 3 at top volume while sorting that donor list without getting earbud pain. ("Up where they walk. Up where they run. Up where they stay all day in the sun. Wandering free, wish I could be...part of that wooooorld.")
  3. The relaxed dress code. I don't think my employer would appreciate the tank top/underwear combo I've been rocking today.
  4. Watching Peep Show on my lunch break. It's not porn. I swear. Though I guess I could watch porn if I wanted to!
  5. After completing the vast majority of an Annual Report I can switch over to Lady Gaga and dance my heart out in said messy kitchen in celebration. Just Dance!

Monday, July 20, 2009

Alberta Politics - This one's a real nail biter!!

Remember when I ranted about that Alberta MLA who was a total jackass? So, the premier thought that his having to make an apology was punishment enough.

So now this other Alberta MLA, Boutilier...hold on

Boutilier is such a cool sounding name. I've been saying almost nothing but Boutilier all night!! aaaand back to the gist...

so, Boutilier comes out and publicly criticizes his party for putting on hold a project that his community has been anticipating for 20 years. A project that was approved a year ago. The project? To build a long-term care facility for old folks. In a town that currently has no such facility. Where old people are staying in what was supposed to be a temporary section of the hospital.

Now, without even getting into a cost-benefit analysis of a hospital stay vs. a long-term care facility stay, the dude kind of has a point. The health care system in Alberta is in complete upheaval and a project that's been on the books for 18 months now isn't looking like it's ever going to get built. 'cause they just keep pushing those projects back and back and back and south Calgary hospital what now?

So, what does our illustrious premier do? Fires the guy.

So one MLA proudly displays his disgusting sexism and complete lack of respect for a woman's right for equality and he doesn't even get a slap on the wrist.

Another MLA vocally opposes the cancellation of project that his constituency has been clamouring for and he gets fired. The next day. No warning, no discipline, no quiet shunning. Nope. Fired.

And why am I supposed to feel involved in the political process again? Voter apathy, what now? I mean, what's the freaking point?!?!

Politicians!!!!! Rage!!!!!

Who came up with this system? I don't even understand how that is a fire-able offense when being a misogynist doesn't even get you a reprimand.


Wednesday, July 15, 2009

A rather dull one I'm afraid

What do you like to do on your lunch hour?

I'm talking to you employed peeps here. Unemployed peeps are basically living a life of long lunch hours and extended weekends. I hate you. But not really because I'm a weirdo who actually enjoys working and gets restless with too much unstructured time.

I had a rather glorious lunch hour today. I took myself out to the Co-op. For those unfamiliar, the Co-op is a grocery store. And the downtown Calgary Co-op is like the grocery store mecca for yuppies. More than one aisle of produce? Produce that looks fresh and delicious? A salad bar? What?? Is that an actual meat counter with meat dudes working behind it??

I love it's faux marketplace set up and decor because it's the closest I can actually get to a marketplace. And also, um, I'm a yuppie.

Anyways, I took myself out to the Co-op. I mixed up a big, 'delicious' salad, picked up a frosty Diet Coke and went upstairs to the sad cafeteria style eating zone looking out over a bland road. I sat in the corner and read Love in a Time of Cholera for 45 minutes whilst munching my 'tasty' greens.

I was perfectly content and went back to work feeling happy and refreshed. It really felt like the perfect lunch hour. Sitting by myself, eating a salad and reading a book. I'm not quite sure what that says about me. I don't like salad! I don't like being alone! I don't really like Gabriel Garcia Marquez!

Inexplicable! Clearly I need


Friday, July 10, 2009


Alone in my office, eating some beef on a bun and, honestly, feeling a little maudlin this sunny Friday afternoon.

If I didn’t feel committed to an awkward social outing this evening I would definitely be settling in with a guaranteed to make you cry chick flick. I find that one of the best remedies, for me, for medium level blueness is to have a good, solid cry.

I don’t mean a squeeze out a few manly tears at your favorite aunt’s funeral cry, I mean a solid cry that starts right from the bottom of your toes. No need to go overboard and get too snotty with it but wailing is definitely encouraged. But not so loud that your neighbours think your husband is beating you. Because I imagine that would be awkward.

With a deep blue I don’t need any prompting, the tears just come. But the medium level blueness generally requires a bit of a prompt. It’s not really blue enough to warrant tears, I just find tears an effective way of clearing it out of my system.

I’ve had a few go-to’s in years gone by. The song River as sung by Joni Mitchell can usually do it, Little Women (the Winona Ryder version) always gets me at the scene where Beth dies, and the scene in Return of the King where they bow to the Hobbits (though that’s a mighty commitment to make just to start a good cry).

My latest discovery is the movie P.S. I Love You. The first time I saw this movie I was expecting it to be overwrought with emotion and just so obvious in its attempts to pull my heartstrings. I mean, it’s a movie about a guy who dies young and sends his wife a series of letters and gifts posthumously that ultimately guide her through the grieving process.

I’m sure this movie is just as manipulative as many others in its genre. But for some reason P.S. I Love You works like magic for me. Maybe it’s the hot, shirtlessness of the singing, Irish husband or the equally hot shirtlessness of the other singing, Irish dude she hooks up with, but it just does it for me. I cry, I wail, I mope and then once it’s over I feel better.

Life just keeps going on and on and on and in my experience, everything somehow works out in the end.

p.s. I love you.

Friday, July 03, 2009

Men! Feh.

We’re all friends here, right? Let’s get intimate now. Come into my little circle, I have a confession to make. If I liked eating pussy, I would totally be a lesbian. And that is because…yes, I’ll admit it…I don’t like men.

This is a wild generalization of course because obviously I do have a few men in my life that I have very positive feelings about. But indulge me for a few hundred words.

What has brought on this man hate you ask? Recently an Edmonton MLA was quoted saying:

"Men are attracted to smiles, so smile and don't give me that 'treated equal' stuff, if you want Equal it comes in little packages at Starbucks."

What the fuck?!?!

That was a piece of advice he wrote on his blog, intended for junior high school girls. At the time there was a small hullabaloo about his comment in the media here in Alberta. Ultimately the MLA apologized for his comment. Our illustrious premier felt that making a public apology was punishment enough.

Seriously? This guy gets to keep his job? This guy’s wife stays with him? There is just nothing funny about this comment. This comment is bald, brassy, blatant sexism.

Can you imagine what would have happened if this guy came out and said:

"White people don't like it when you smile too much. So all you black people stop trying to be so friendly. We know that you're just looking for a chance to mug us. ps. we're white and therefore better than you."

How fast would that guy have lost his job if he had insulted: immigrants, Jews, Christians, Muslims, white people, rich people, old people, etc, etc, etc.

Because it's not like this is an isolated incident. It's not like I read about this and thought to myself "what? I'm shocked! I've never heard a man treat equality as a joke before. This guy is clearly an independent crackpot who is in no way a representative sample of men I could find locally, nationally or internationally."

Why are women and gays two groups that it is still okay to publicly degrade in Canada?!

I had actually forgotten about this for a few weeks and something twigged it in my brain today. And I have now worked myself up to a fuming rage over it, again. It's really interfering with my quest for a witty ending to this post.

Men. Feh.

Middle-aged, white, male politicians? Double-Feh!!