Rant – Page 2 – Rant and Roll

Double, double, toil and trouble.

Good grief is Canada ever a large country.

Because we have heaps, and HEAPS of space, until we get that teleportation science down, it’s going to keep taking dogs years to travel across.

This morning I was up at the ungodly hour of 4:45 am, getting ready to head back to real life here in BC.

I crawled out of bed, jumped into the shower, and slowly steamed my eyelids open.

I allotted myself as much time as possible to wake up, before heading out to the Halifax airport for my 6:20 departure. My sister Jessi and her boyfriend Adam were kind enough to drive me – he being tempted by the promise of a Tim Horton’s breakfast sandwich, and she driven by her enduring and ever-deepening love for me.

HAH!

But seriously though – Timmy Ho’s.

I tell ya. That stuff will take over your life.

It’s interesting – despite the proliferation of Starbucks the world over, Tim Hortons still reigns supreme here in Canada (minus of course several urban centers, of which Vancouver is one.)

I mean, “Double-Double” (the shorthand term for two creams, two sugars in a Tim Hortons coffee) is an entry in the Oxford Canadian English Dictionary!

WHAT.

It can be weird trying to explain this institution to someone who hasn’t lived here.

It’s just SO Canadian.

(Despite its brief American ownership and merger with Wendys Corporation. This is referred to as the “Dark Time”, of which we never speak.)

Just kidding.

Kind of.

It also has the guts to put out the most heart-wrenching commercials (aka ridiculous Canadiana propaganda.)

Let me implore you to check out this ad:

DAH.

THE EMOTIONS!

(I never said that this ploy didn’t work, now did I?)

ONE THING though – if you’re going to bring your family over in the middle of the winter, feeding them terrible coffee isn’t going to make the transition any easier! JUST SAYING.

The one thing that actually does bother me about Tim Hortons is that I have a hard time believing that people actually like it as much as they purport to LOVE it.

It’s like this business has woven itself into our national framework (mythology?) to such an extent, that we no longer know what we actually want in terms of coffee and baked goods.

Or, perhaps that it’s that we’ve convinced ourselves that easy access, trumps quality.

For instance, Tim Hortons jingle used to be: “Always Fresh, Always, Tim Horntons.” And now it’s just “Always Tim Hortons.”

(Or it might be “Time for Tim’s – I’m not sure. Since throwing away cable for Netflix, my ability to keep up with this inane crap has been severely compromised.)

Anywho, if it is indeed “Always Tim Hortons”, that is apt as all get out, because they are indeed EVERYWHERE.

And it’s not like there is anything all that great about the foodstuffs available for purchase at any of these restaurants.

Its hot chocolate is okay, its coffee – as previously stated – is just awful.

Their baked goods run the gamut of delicious (honey cruellers and sour cream glazed) to absolutely dismal (anything claiming to be “old fashioned” tastes of dish soap and will completely destroy your will to live.)

I’ve never been a fan of the Iced Capp, but those that do would give away their first born when a craving hits.

Their bagels are okay, but are always smothered in so much cream cheese you start to wonder what it’s actually made out of that they give it away in such liberal amounts.

What can I say?

I’ve never, ever in my life woken up and thought: I want nothing more than ***** from Tim Horton’s.

But the other night, whilst out with friends and family, what did we IMMEDIATELY do once we left the bar?

Oh you betcha:

What can I say?

At my inner most core, I am Canadian.

(But only when soaked in white wine!)

OH MY GOODNESS I CANNOT BELIEVE I JUST WROTE AN 800 WORD POST ON TIM HORTONS.

Yeesh.

Please dear readers. I blame it on post-travel nackeredness. Eight hours on a plane will do that to you!

I really must be off for (another) shower and sleep.

I’ll be back to our regular scheduled program in but the (40) winks of an eye.

In the meantime, tell me your Tim Hortons stories.

We’ll see if we can get them made into a commercial.

Always.

(Tim Hortons.)

I’ll fly away, oh glory, I’ll fly away in the morning

Well folks, another day, another early morning hangout at Toronto Pearson Airport.

IMG_20131106_060226 — Early morning hot chocolate. Also, my nails really are the worst.

I am seriously starting to think that I know this place better than I do some of my friends.

I am seriously staring to think that I like this place better than I do some of my friends.

JUST KIDDING!

Although said friends don’t have a sweet twenty-four hours David’s Tea, nor do they have sexy fluorescent lighting that give myself, and all of my fellow travellers that all-too sought after “it may be consumption” pallor.

We should all be so lucky!

But back to what I was saying – AIRPORTS.

While I’m not the biggest fan of air flight (particularly takeoffs and landings – talk about hair-raising central!) I do have a perverse like for these giant atriums of travel.

They are the perfect mish-mash of random: Tim Horton’s restaurants (restaurants, hah!), nail salons, the obligatory Hudson Bay Store (we’re talking domestic Canadian airports here, otherwise, please substitute in Duty-Free and some fancy, chain, over-priced wine bar), sit-up massage chairs, totally random shoe shine stations, and store, after store chock-a-block of Tom Clancy and Mary Higgins Clark, magazines, expensive candy, and those head-rest pillows everyone (and yet no one?) seems to buy.

I am currently heading down to Halifax for a family visit, culminating in my cousin Andrew’s wedding taking place this Saturday.

I am the queen of carry-on, and managed to cram three dresses, two pairs of pants, two skirts, six shirts, three sweaters, two pairs of shoes, two winter running outfits, my pajamas, my computer, and all other manner of lady detritus in this here bag:

One day I’m going to get an award for this stuff!

Anyways, in completely different news, Canadian politics is totally nutters at the moment.

I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but Toronto mayor Rob Ford finally admitted to smoking crack cocaine, and yet somehow still refuses to resign from his position.

The man plans on running again next year for re-election!

WHAT THE WHAT.

His exact words:

“Exactly. Yes, I have smoked crack cocaine. I’ve made mistakes… all I can do is apologize and move on.”

“But, no, do I? Am I an addict? No.”

“Have I tried it? Probably in one of my drunken stupors, probably approximately about a year ago.

How is this man even a real human being!?

I feel like we are living in bizarre world.

If I was a journalist in Toronto right now I’d go around telling everyone that I was “one heck of a crack reporter!”

(Too much, I apologize. But it had to be said.)

Meanwhile, our national political stage is riddled with just as much madness.

Our Prime Minister doesn’t seem to have any knowledge of what has been going on with his Conservative senators, and is likely fuming over the fact that no one gives two cares about his free trade agreement with the European Union, when all anyone wants to do is talk about Mike Duffy’s cheque requisition program.

I am just waiting for Nigel Wright to show up at Question Time and pull a full-fledged Banquo.

IS THIS A DAGGER I SEE BEFORE ME?

I am mixing my Shakespeare all over the place, but I CANNOT HELP IT.

These situations mix me up!

And here in BC (or I suppose I should say “back in BC”, what with this being written in Toronto, or “The Big Smoke” if you will….there is another crack joke there, I’m sure) our premier Christy Clark has reneged on her promise not to go forward with plans to construct an oil pipeline from Alberta, and has instead met with Alison Redford (Alberta’s premier) and put together a set of points on how to go forward.

This decision just kills me.

We are going to be swimming in environmental damage, just you wait.

What drives me crazy here is that Clark keeps talking about how when she was re-elected, the electorate backed her plans to expand BC’s natural resource sector, when 1.) No one wanted this expansion to include a pipeline, and 2.) This woman wasn’t even re-elected in our last election! She lost her riding! She had to re-run in a jurisdiction where she was guaranteed to win, after the MLA-elect gave up his seat!

(Meanwhile, it’s just been revealed that he has been giving a plush position as an economic ambassador to BC’s Asian trading markets. But of course he has!)

But seriously folks, how are we supposed to have any faith in the democratic process, when so many of those involved display the utmost contempt for the entire system?

It drives me batty.

Marc has a theory that politicians should be paid very little money, in an effort to keep out those who are not invested in making the country/province/city a better place, and attract those who don’t care about bilking their travel expense claims for all that their worth.

I’m not sure what the answer is, but I do know that whatever we have going on right now, it really isn’t working.

Much like Mike Duffy, Patrick Brazeau, and Pamela Wallin.

ZING!

(See what I did there?)

And now I’m off to find some overpriced food to eat with my four dollar water bottle.

I hope you all have an amazing morning.

Wherever in the world you happen to be.

Big things, little things, everywhere a thing thing

Things! Things! Things!

There are so many things of which we must speak!

So let’s get cracking…

Bad McDonald’s ads.

These just squick me right out.

I know much of this is due to the fact that I am (at the base of it all) an immature degenerate (seriously dudes, whatever veneer of sensibility and maturity I manage to project is shellacked on with a trowel EVERY MORNING) BUT –

I cannot be the only one who thinks this, right?

I mean, who chose these descriptors? Yes, sex sells BLAHBLAHBLAH, but when I am eating your crappy fast food, the last, LAST thing on my mind is getting down and funky.

In fact, I’m pretty sure my feelings are literally the EXACT OPPOSITE of that.

And if it isn’t when I started eating said foodstuffs, it certainly is by the time I’ve finished. The end of a McDonald’s meal is always defined by the mild, yet lingering aftertaste of self-loathing, and the enduring curiosity as to whether anyone will ever again find me attractive.

(At least in the non-ironic sense.)

Don’t worry – I make my own bed. I know what I’m getting myself into, and yet, I NEVER STOP DOING IT.)

The long and short of it is – these ads are terrible and they make me uncomfortable for the thirty seconds or so I have to wait for my train to take me home.

AND THAT IS TOO LONG.

Why would you buy that?

People who live in Vancouver are officially insane.

I mean, who in their right mind would pay THAT MUCH MONEY for zero square footage? And what is even four hundred square feet?

Is there a place for you to hang your hammock, or does that cost more?

I can only assume that this arrangement has people peeing off of their (miniscule) balconies, and showering solely on days that it rains.

(Luckily this is Vancouver, so that averages out to quite a few cleaning days per year.)

Plus –

FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for EIGHT HUNDRED AND FIFTY SQUARE FEET!?

My head hurts.

Someone get me something TENDER and RIPE.

Just kidding!

Watch it.

After seeing this watch on Jubilant Sea’s blog there was nothing in my power that I could do to stop myself from buying it.

BECAUSE IT IS JUST THE BEST OF LIFE.

It has a map!

A wonky map of the world!

I could wear the saddest, least colourful outfit in the world, and as long as I was wearing this watch, I would feel like a main stage player at Paris fashion week.

(I don’t really know what that means, but I’m sticking with it.)

Wedding dresses.

So I am in quite a few weddings this summer because all the people that I know and love are getting married which is SO EXCITING.

And as such, I need to procure some vestments that I may wear while I witness these many exchanges of rings and vows, etcetera etcetra.

Today on my lunch break I managed to wrangle TWO dresses – one for my sister in-law’s wedding in August, and one for my sister’s wedding that is coming up SO SOON at the beginning of July.

The latter dress is one with which I have been enamored for many moons, after walking by Club Monaco a bagillion times and swooning every time I saw it in the window display.

I tried to hold out as long as I could, but today I caved and tried it on and I LOVE IT SO MUCH GUYS.

Seriously, I just love it.

SO MUCH.

…

In other news, for the first time since 1994 I have a weekend with absolutely nothing planned, which THANK GOODNESS, because I have my half-marathon in three very short weeks, and if I’ve going to run a sub-1:30 I better get back on the training path AND QUICK.

IT’S TIME TO GET SERIOUS.

In other great, GREAT news (concerning the run), I have already raised $1,035 for Big Sisters, and counting! I am running for the organization, and all the proceeds raised go directly to helping match new Bigs with the current waitlist of Littles.
If you are interested in learning more about our efforts, you can do so here.

Otherwise, I plan on doing nothing but eating a lot of Nutella and watching an entire season of MI5.

Is it just me, or does Lukas North get hotter the second time around?

Just me?

Bueller?

Happy Friday you beauty cats!

I wish for you nothing but greatness, and awe.

The politics of the situation

Yesterday my province went to the polls to vote in a new government.

In the end, only fifty-two percent of all eligible voters cast a ballot.

FIFTY-TWO.

I feel sick to my stomach.

I cannot understand why someone, ANYONE would consciously abstain from exercising their right to vote.

I cannot, and I never will.

The importance of being politically active was instilled in me at a very early age.

I still remember the 1993 Federal election like it was yesterday – enthralled at how a Progressive Conservative majority could shrink to only two seats in the space of one day; incredulous (and nervous) that a party, whose sole raison d’etre was the Quebec secession from Canada, managed to win official opposition status.

It was the beginning of Jean Chretien’s tenure as one of Canada’s longest serving prime ministers (Mackenzie King holds top spot), and the first time I understood the utter depravity a political party will stoop to when it comes to election attack ads.

And I could not wait until I was old enough to take part.

Ten more years, I thought to myself.

Ten more years and I will help make a difference.

At only eight years of age, I understood just how important these events where – not only for Canadians as individuals, but as a country, as a collective whole.

I understood that if citizens did not take the time to 1.) understand what it was they needed from a government, and 2.) educate themselves on what candidate and/or party best represented those needs, then they were doing themselves (and their country) and tremendous disservice.

So now, twenty years later, when I look at the numbers released yesterday, I despair.

And when I am bombarded by all sorts of self-righteous excuses from those who didn’t end up voting, I rage.

– I’m so busy.

– I’m not interested in politics.

– All politicians are the same.

– All politicians are awful.

– My vote wouldn’t even make a difference.

BLAH BLAH BLAH.

And then I laugh.

I laugh, and laugh, and laugh, because if I don’t laugh, I will cry.

Or punch a hole through my wall.

Okay.

Let’s just call a spade, a spade, shall we?

People, on the whole, don’t vote because they are apathetic, and chose to remain uniformed.

1. The world we (are privileged enough to) live in, allows individuals constant and unrestricted access to information – on the economic, political, social, and cultural climate of our province and country – and if they gave a hot damn about any of that they would take advantage of this information and educate themselves.

Seriously, it’s called Google, and it is great.

So in the end, I don’t care how busy people claim to be, because there is enough time, and an overwhelming number of resources available to help them figure this stuff out.

2. Don’t tell me all politicians are the same.

That is one of the silliest statements someone can make, particularly if they have already admitted that they consciously distance themselves from their province’s politics.

Unless you are living in the Democratic Republic of Congo, or Somalia, or Belarus, (or “insert country whose elections/elected officials are defined by overwhelming corruption/State sponsored fear-campaigns” here), there is most likely an individual that is more in line with your views and needs than all the other potential candidates in your riding, and that if elected could help make your life/community/city/province a slightly better place.

3. Also maybe next time remember that you are not in fact living in a country dominated by censorship, violence, oppression, and corruption, and remember how lucky you are to even have a choice when it comes to the election of your governing bodies.

And then once you remember that, remember your vote does count. Not only when it comes to the actually counting of the ballots, but because by voting have you given yourself agency.

You have given yourself a voice.

And I cannot think of anything more important than that.

…

Ooof.

Writing this has left me exhausted.

There are so, so many other problems I see with the BC electorate and encompassing institutions.

No proportional representation.

Elections run off of slates/political parties (which essentially makes the whole charade a two-party game.)

The futility of running a “positive” campaign.

I just…I just don’t know.

And as I sit here, I can hear little eight year-old that lives somewhere deep in my heart piping up, telling me:

“Why don’t we do it? Why don’t we run?”

And I pause.

Because I don’t know if I’ve ready. If I could hack it. Or even make it out of the starting gate.

I don’t know.

But who knows?

Either way it’s something to think about.

Before, of course, I vote on it.

I’m finishing my coffee. Enjoying my coffee.

Hello you fab chaps!

Well, here we are, looking back on another week lived, facing the beautiful blank slate (oh how I wish!) of the approaching weekend.

I love Fridays because I truly believe they have life re-generating powers.

And what, might you ask, are other (real-life) things that share those same invigorating powers?

For the answer to this question, please look no further than THIS:

OKAY.

I drink coffee every day. I wouldn’t say that I drink a TON of the stuff – for instance, between Monday and Friday I drink a vanilla latte every morning, and come the weekend, I drink at least one cup of java (but never more than two), upon rising from my bed of rest.

In my humble opinion, there is no better way to herald the breaking dawn than with a piping hot mug of milky, sweet espresso.

(Urg, I feel weird just using the term “breaking dawn.” DAMN YOU TWILIGHT!)

Weekend coffees have become even more deluxe of late, what with the addition of a Nespresso milk steamer/frother to our kitchen gadget repertoire.

(Full disclosure: other than our raclette machine and a decrepit old blender, said repertoire is pretty darn bleak.)

Anyway, now that I have purchased the above pictured vanilla syrup, I really feel like our adventures into the world of joe are just going to EXPLODE.

Think of the possibilities!

Vanilla steamed milk for nights when I’m feeling eight hundred years old!

London fogs for mornings when I’m feeling particularly Dickensian!

Vanilla café au laits for every other time other than the two I’ve mentioned above!

ALL RIGHT.

Also.

Do you know what is the actual exact opposite of what I have just described above?

THIS:

BLECH.

Who decided to make diet Crush cream soda happen?

They should be publicly shamed, and then sent to Baffin Island for twenty-years of hard labour.

Talk about toxic waste in a can.

Yeah, yeah, I realize that pop of any kind isn’t exactly a staple of a healthy, organic (blahblahblah) lifestyle, but JEEZE LOUISE.

Somethings are sacred!

And by somethings, I mean CRUSH CREAM SODA.

Won’t somebody please think of my childhood?

In other news…

What the heck is going on here:

Do people have hundreds (or thousands) of loonies and toonies just lying about, clogging up their living space?

Is this a worry that people have?

“Oh sorry Jim, I would totally have you over, but my place is just over-run with coinage. Thank goodness Metro News has provided me with the tools I need to combat this problem head on!”

Good grief.

I never, ever have cash, let alone enough change to fill out an entire bank roll.

But a girl can dream, can she not?

And if I’m going to spend my life dreaming, I am going to do it dressed like THIS:

Fifteen dollar pants?

CHECK.

Paddington Bear coat?

CHECK.

A date with a microphone, stage, and comedy-hungry audience?

Checkcheckcheck.

…

So what’s on the docket for all you beauty cats this weekend?

And what drink will you be having?

Do be sure to tell me, because I’m taking orders.