Category Archives: Uncategorized


I don’t know if I’ve told this story on my blog before, but as we head into a new decade, I have been thinking a lot about it.

When I was eleven years old, my teacher gave us a writing assignment: Where Do You See Yourself in the year 2000?

I was eleven in 1987. I would be 24 in 2000.

I remember the assignment, and although I do not remember all my predictions, I do remember some of them. I had been fairly certain by the year 2000, I would be married, have two kids, and be a lawyer.

The change of the millennium found me still in university, working (somewhat) towards a decree in English Literature and Theatre and trying to budget both beer and food with my dwindling remainder of that semester’s student loan. I was obstinately single and mostly worried about what costume I would wear to my friend Heather’s fancy dress party for New Years Eve.

I remember telling my predictions to my friend Cayman late in 1999, and when he heard that 11 year-old me thought I’d be a married mother of two and a lawyer when the year 2000 rolled around asked, “Where are you going to find a husband?”

I think about what a big deal the change of the millennium was before it hit, how it felt like there would be a significant BEFORE and AFTER. Now, as we are ending the decade and moving towards what I would have once considered the fabled year of 2020, it kind of has that feel again, in a way that 2010 did not. And I’m kind of excited about it. If feels like the last BEFORE and AFTER year until we hit 2050, the next favoured year for making big predictions.

I never did make any predictions for who I would be in 2020, and I dare not make any for 2050. I did so poorly at guessing where I would be (and who I would be) just 13 years into the future, that I doubt I would do better now (even though I could now pass as “an adult” most days) to try and predict where life will have taken me by 2050, a year in which, should I be fortunate enough to see it, I will be a remarkable 74 years old. Wherever I am, whatever I am doing, I just hope painless dentistry (come on dicks, figure out how to use lasers or something) and flying cars are finally real things.

Are you inclined to favor the Windward Islands or the Leeward Islands?

I was going to say, “There is no way I can answer this without looking this up”. But I actually think I can.

Because when I think about it, one would be an island facing the same way as the wind, the other would be facing into the wind. Wouldn’t it? But which is which?

Turns out I’m retarded. “Windward” is upwind and “leeward” is downwind.

I’d rather be upwind.

Get this! There really are Windward Islands and Leeward Islands! And the truth is I’d rather be on any of those islands than in the office tomorrow. Fact.

How many push-ups can you do?

I sincerely thought about giving it a go and accurately reporting how many push-ups I can do. But you know what? It’s been a long week. So fuck accuracy in my personal time.

I can’t do very many. I bet I could do between 5 – 10 “real” push-ups and double that many of “girly” ones. Which is pretty weaksauce. I should probably start using that 100 Push-ups app I got ages ago.

Yup. I should get right on that.

Could Mendeleyev place you correctly in a square on a chart of periodic identities, or would you resonate all over the board?

How long has it been since I’ve even looked at the Period Table? A long time. There are elements on it now that weren’t hanging out there when I was a kid, I swear. Back in the good old days when Pluto was still a planet and learning the geography of Eastern Europe meant remembering just one country.

Man, I’m getting old.

Anyway. I suppose I would resonate all over the board, consisting as I do of O, C, H, N, Ca, P, K, S, Mg, Cu, Zn, Se, Mo, F, Cl, I, Mn, Co, Fe, Li, Sr, Al, Si, Pb, V, As and Br.

There and Back Again…

It has been a long and strange journey with my poor old blog. Started back in 2005 (2005!) just before I left Canada for Korea as a way to keep in touch with folks without bombarding my contacts list with group e-newsletters. I was supposed to be gone for a year and I expected the blog to last about that long. That was six (six!) years ago now.

The blog started on MSN Spaces… back when I had “upgraded” from using Yahoo email to Hotmail. (AH HA HA HA HA! – “upgrade to Hotmail”)  At the time, it was all that I needed, even when it did funky things when I was posting from the PC Bang (internet cafe) in Korea.

I’m not sure what eventually drove me away from Spaces. Perhaps it was because I had been using Gmail for awhile and was drifting further and further away from Hotmail and all things associated with it. And because I used Google for email, it made sense (at the time) to move my blog to the Google-sphere… hello Blogger.

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Two More Down

I just went in and deleted my Gowalla and Foursquare accounts – geolocated social “interactions” that don’t amount to anything.

It’s another game I can’t win. I don’t even know how to win… I guess getting a “mayorship” or on the “leaderboard” or by checking into the coolest places. GAH.

I can still tell people where I’m at via Facebook places if I really want to. But now I don’t have to feel like it is such a quest.

Now I’m down to just a few social sites – Facebook, Instagram, Flickr and Twitter. Oh, and this blog. I’m feeling more and more free to be social with my friends all the time. Awesome.


First, a caveat: By purging I do not mean eating a bunch of shit and then barfing it back up. I do need to lose more weight. And although I’m not very good about eating less (or exercising more, for that matter), I hate throwing up so much that I can’t see binging and purging as a viable solution to my weight issues.

No, by ‘purging’ I just mean getting rid of shit I don’t need.

I have lost a bit of weight since the beginning of the year (I’ve slowed down lately, but do want to pick it back up) and I am hoping to share more of that journey here going forward. So I have a bunch of clothes that are too big (whoop whoop) and others that just don’t look good. When you are fat, a lot of times you don’t have much choice when it comes to clothes… you just buy what fits, not necessarily what looks good. Which isn’t cool, yo.

So first – I’ve purged my closet. A few weeks ago I took some bags of clothes (and some other stuff) to the charity shop. Tonight I took six more grocery bags of clothes to the charity bin. I have very little left for clothing, but I’m okay with that. What counts is that I like what I have left. Bam.

Second – I purged my friend list on Facebook. I was appalled when I first learned that ‘unfriend’ had become an entry in the dictionary… but I’m coming around to this idea. I’ve done a culling before – the first time my friend list got up to around 320 people I went through and dropped folks until I was down to 299.

There have been studies to show that we are capable of maintaining relationships with around 150 people – about the size of a tribe. I was back up around 320 ‘friends’ on Facebook, so I’ve gone through the list and knocked off about 40 of them.

Over the next couple months, I’m going to try to get that list down to around 100. That’ll leave me room for friends in real life that don’t use Facebook.

I’ve also stopped other websites/services from posting to Facebook – so no longer will every tweet and every check-in (I’m most likely going to nix my Gowalla and Foursquare accounts over the next few weeks anyway) show up on my feed. And I’m planning on tweeting much less.

I’ve decided to do this because I would rather have more quality than quantity in my life: I would rather have three pairs of great shoes than thirty pairs of cheap uncomfortable ones. I would rather have one pair of amazing jeans that I feel good in than several mediocre ones. And I would rather have 100 real friends than 350+ virtual ones.

I would rather communicate with those friends directly and with some real thought and content personalised to them (or to my specific group). And when I do have something I want to say to a wider audience, I’d rather create a blog post with some substance than just spitting out multitudes of tweets with not much thought behind them.

Quality. Not quantity. Hopefully!

2011: Year of the Restrictive Rabbit

>So far, 2011 has been the Year of the Restrictive Rabbit. I gave up drinking (nearly) entirely and with a few devil-may-care weekends, I’ve been following a very strict diet six days a week. I’m even forcing myself to exercise, which goes against the very core of my lazy being.

And now it looks like I will have to add spending to my list of things I have to get under control, which means restricting what I can buy. I made that decision this month, when my pay somehow ran out by the seventh.

The seventh. I didn’t even make it to the mid-point of the month. Sad.

More restrictions. I can feel my inner six-year-old starting to rebel. Something has to give. I’m bad at self-parenting – I’m too cute to tell me ‘no’ for very long. I sense an imminent bad-behaviour explosion unless I let something go.

So I’ve voted to lift the drinking embargo. I made the resolution in the first place to show myself that I don’t need to drink to have fun or to deal with my life. And I’ve proven that to myself. So I’m tossing out the resolution.

But not entirely.

You see… I’ll still have to restrict the drinking. Drinking goes against the diet. Which will be in full effect still from Sunday to Friday.  So the only day I will be able to have a drink is Saturday (plus the exceptions, should they fall during the week).

I have a bad habit (just one – ha ha) of going to extremes. Eat “better”? NO! Eat perfectly! Do “some” exercise? NO! Run 5km every lunch! Drink “in moderation”? NO! NO DRINKING.

The trouble with that is how hard it is to maintain. Now, don’t get me wrong… I could finish off the year without drinking. But I worry if I hang on to that one I may let one of the others slide, and the others are more important to me.

This doesn’t mean I’ll see you in the pub this Saturday. But if I do… feel free to buy me a pint and help celebrate my newly discovered moderation.

Is there sand in your craw?

I don’t THINK so…

Does your doorbell ever ring?

Rarely. And when it does, it isn’t for us.

We live in a block of flats and when meter guys or delivery peeps want access to another flat, they always seem to ring our flat first. Douchebags.

And here is the worst part: Our door phone thingie doesn’t work. So when they ring, I have to go to the front door. Which I do, because what if… WHAT IF… it is actually for me? Like, a surprise delivery or something. I don’t want to send something like that away. But every time I have to put on fucking pants and answer the door and it isn’t for me early on a Saturday morning, I feel compelled to work on completing my plans for utter global annihilation.