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Showing posts from January, 2014

Empty Words

The conversation plays out at least three times a day, sometimes more like ten. 
"Hi!" "Hi!" "How are you?" "Not too bad, and you?" "Not too bad."
and then, formalities aside, it's okay to progress to the meaningful words.
This social formality has always niggled at me. My inner literalist, never far from the surface, wants to ask if not too bad means "bad, but not TOO bad." But mostly I just cringe at the emptiness of the words. Look, Ma, zero calories. 
Every once in a while I'll hear "how are you" and answer "terrible" or "awful". Sometimes I'll do it with a smile on my face and great good cheer in my voice, and approximately two thirds of the time my interlocutor will respond as if I'd said "great, fantastic", or, quoting my friend Mark, "any better and I'd cancel my OHIP." Sometimes I'll drop the charade and actually answer, "pretty shitty tod…


I failed another eye test yesterday. I had the whole suite of them, an hour and a half's worth of hell, and I failed at least one of them. Time to get new glasses. Again.
I always feel guilty when this happens, as if I didn't study hard enough or something. My prescription is not standard; it deviates from 'standard' by so many degrees that there is not a substantial difference in price between my opthalmologist and, say, Costco. And it is likewise not cheap. The price has come down--I distinctly remember my first couple of pairs costing eight hundred bucks in early eighties dollars--but not by as much as I'd like.

I've mostly come to terms with wearing glasses, which is probably a good thing because I've been doing it for 34 years now and I'll be wearing them when I die. (Actually, I hope I'm not...because the only time I'm not wearing my glasses is when I'm asleep.) I'm 41, almost 42, and I don't get called 'four-eyes' anym…

Ads and Me

Piggybacking off that Pizza Nova jingle, which is forever aurally embedded in my brain...

(The guy who sings that insanely catchy song is named Alfie Zappacosta. He is a Juno-winning singer/songwriter, formerly heading the rock band Surrender. One of his songs was on the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. He's released several solo albums in styles ranging from smooth jazz to light rock. He still tours extensively, and he has publicly noted that the jingle for Pizza Nova will haunt him forever. People apparently request it at all his shows. Now that's effective advertising.

Advertising and I have a very strange relationship. I don't share many people's automatic disdain, even hatred, for all things commercial (hey, sellers gotta sell)...but at the same time most of the advertisements I tune out in the course of my day are not even remotely relevant to me, which is why I tune them out.

As such, I really don't understand the brouhaha over targeted ads.  Supposedly Google (cor…

What World Am I Living In?

The most popular produce in the grocery store is undoubtedly bananas.

Can't stand 'em.

The bestseller lists are riddled with diet books, cookbooks, and video game manuals (really?)

Never bought any...never will.

Every week there's some new Internet craze for me to be completely ignorant about for months. No idea how everyone knows about these things. No idea how I don't.

I tell you, I live in some alternate world.

Bananas. I really hate them: they're easily in my top five list of Foods To Avoid. The other four, in case you're wondering, are olives (which is number one with a bullet: I can't even swallow one); burnt toast, which I define as 'toast any part of which has gone beyond brown into black'; anything, and I do mean anything spicy; and black coffee. There are other foods I do not like, but I'll eat to be polite. These five (well, the 'spicy' is a whole class of so-called "food") are on the Shit List.

You spice lovers insu…

That Word, Again

"As The Years Go By", Mashmakhan. This Canadian song from 1970 is, lyrically and musically, very much a part of its time. It is also, musically and lyrically, very interesting.  It's prompted yet another of my many musings on love and what it means when I say "I love you".

A child asks his mother do you love me
And it really means will you protect me
His mother answers him I love you
And it really means
You've been a good boy

At seventeen a girl says do you love me
And it really means will you respect me
The teenage boy answers I love you
And it really means
Can I make love to you
And as the years go by
True love will never die

I will love you forever
I will love you forever

At sixty five his wife says
Do you love me
And it means I'd like to hear it again
Her husband says to her I love you
But it really means I love you till the end
And as the years go by
True love will never die

Now you're asking me if I love you
And it really means will I marry you
And I answer yes I lo…

Welcome, 2014. Oh, God, shoot me now

I woke up at 2:57 this morning, feeling...bad. Really, my powers of description are about to desert me along with most of my innards, so get used to things like 'bad' and 'worse.'
I dialed my shower back several degrees, afraid the heat would exacerbate the dizziness I was feeling, and then got out and attended to bathroom business. Again. And again. And again. I felt like I might puke...there is no feeling more sick making than the feeling of your body making sick, unless it's the feeling of actually throwing up; that said, you usually feel seven shades of better once you actually vomit, so I tried.


My insides had absolutely no qualms about high-speed southern evacuation...I spent most of the 90 minutes before I had to go to work bouncing between the toilet and my chair downstairs, walking very carefully and trying not to upend the ass-pitcher. (Sorry.) Said ass-pitcher was sloshing frothily, my stomach a class twelve on the Beaufort Scale. and getti…

Going Moldy....

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