mirthful monday miscellany

it is gray and rainy here today. quite blah. the weather is mild, and much of the snow is melting (at last), which means the annual spring “is that rotting banana peels and dog poo i smell?” aromatic infusion will soon be wafting on the breeze. but it also means great walking weather is on the horizon. :-D

mom and i spent three days in buffalo, shopping and eating. i am dismayed to report that i woefully under-shopped and came back with a very tiny haul...made up mostly of chocolate and candy. seriously. i wanted shoes, a coat and some grown-up boots, but there were none to be had. i did get a $40 sweater for $5, and mom actually bought a pair of pants on clearance for 99¢. we ate well, too. well, “well” is relative, i suppose. we ate lots of crap, but it was good crap. krispy kreme donuts, auntie anne’s pretzels, target popcorn, cheesecake at the cheesecake factory, pepperidge farm milano cookies, assorted baked goods at panera. somewhere, lou is sobbing. i know.

young beatrix is, as i type this, preparing to put an offer in on a house. (OMG!) she and her beyond UH-MAY-ZING real-estate agent (who’d been referred to me, and whom i loved, and whom i’ve since referred to several other people) will present their offer – along with a sincere letter of interest – to the seller tonight at 6pm. it’s all very exciting and scary for YB...but the house is lovely. it needs some work (a new roof, structural repairs in the kitchen) but is a really charming, character-filled home. here’s a photo, obviously taken in summer. she’ll know later tonight whether she’s a new homeowner or whether the search for her first house will resume. fingers crossed!

okay, WHAT has happened to my beloved claire?!?! this past week’s episode of ANTM sucked much of my love for her right down the drain over the course of the hour, as she was the unfortunate recipient of the show’s trademark Bitch Edit™. the Bitch Edit™ is the annual episode where an otherwise lovely, sane, friendly, likeable contestant is suddenly revealed – via careful editing and storytelling – to be just as catty, juvenile and annoying as the more hateful hopefuls (whitney? fatima? i’m looking at you). whyyyyyyyyyy did they do this?! whyyyyyy did they have to destroy my image of the otherwise saintly and stunning claire? ugh, her behaviour in the apartment and, even worse, at panel – where she literally leapt for joy past a sobbing aimee when she learned she’d been spared from elimination – made me not like her anymore. boo! (you know...now that i think about it, i don’t think yoanna ever had the Bitch Edit™. she may have just reclaimed the #1 spot.) oh, and nevermind the fact that claire’s photo for the week blew hard. i mean, what kind of travesty is THIS?! i don’t know how and i don’t know why, but this is all tyra’s fault.

in related news, former ANTM winner – and another one of my all-time faves (who’s just regained the second-place standing in my heart now that claire’s dropped like a stone) – caridee english will be in toronto this coming weekend! caridee, the fabulous and funny and rebecca romijn-y girl who received a much milder Bitch Edit™ on her cycle (remember when she snarked at Nigel and was taken to task at panel?), will always have a place in my YouTube queue thanks to her now-classic attempt at hiding dizzily. gorgeous and goofy.

people can surprise you. in good ways. that is all.

[update at 8:48pm: young beatrix did not get the house. alas.]

leavin'....

my mom and i are taking off for a few days to shop (and eat) in the states, and i'm not bringing my laptop along this time, so the blog will be on hiatus until the weekend.

while i'm gone, perhaps you'd like to try your hand at this fun geography game. enjoy.

no, i have not fallen off the face of the earth...

...just in case anyone was worried that i had. i haven't been in a blogging frame of mind of late. pithy entries will resume at some point.

in the meantime, perhaps you'd like to buy the e.coli virus for someone you love.

she continues to rock

this week's claire photo.

from here, go elsewhere...

some interesting links on a friday night:

what i wouldn’t give to have been on this set on this day.

i didn’t really dig claire’s photo this week. but i still think she rawks.

thanks to eric, i saw this latest viral video. fred and sharon. keepin’ it real.

in certain areas of my life, i am trying very hard to practice this.

you know, even though he seemed needlessly wordy and florid, eckhart tolle wound up having some useful suggestions. more on him, and his suggestions, in a future post.

the most interesting this about this video? that park (actually called riverdale, not riverside, park) was about two blocks away from my old apartment at hell house. i miss that park.

and, finally, a quote i read this week that struck me: “that what the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.” discuss.

consumer report of the day: cara cara oranges

OMG. have you heard of these? have you HAD these?

i discovered them today, completely by accident, when i headed out to buy fruit (per yesterday’s fruit-deficit lament). i was in the produce section and had a craving for citrus, and the store had the cara cara oranges (along with mineolas and tangelos) on sale. i figured they must be something special, given their sale comrades, but there was no description of what might be unusual about them. they looked just like navel oranges, and they were a product of the USA – meaning they weren’t imported from some remote, exotic locale where oranges have berries inside or something – so i decided to pick up three. if they were awful, i reasoned, i’d only have to deal with three of them. and, if they were fine, three would be enough with which to make quite a tasty fruit salad. i got home, took ‘em out and started slicing off the peel. imagine my surprise when that revealed a deep pink flesh inside! not blood-orange red, but a rich pink like that of a red grapefruit. cool! i started slicing the orange and sampled a section.

oh. my. god. SO delicious.

sweet, juicy and completely seedless! not to mention...really pretty! i chopped up all three oranges (no, not in the chopper), and then sliced up a couple of super-sweet fuji apples and presto! a kick-ass apples-and-oranges mélange that’s healthy AND totally yummy. in fact, it turns out that cara cara oranges are packed with all kinds of super-goodness.

fueled by a massive bowl of this fruity mixture, i decided to make crèpes for dinner. i stewed some fresh strawberries with a couple of teaspoons of seedless raspberry jam, and that’ll go on top.

i ate well today, i think.

jumble-aya

for starters, given my aversion to most seafood, i fear i wouldn’t actually partake of jumbalaya. sorry.

the weird energy in my building is starting to evaporate as things slowly...very slowly...return to normal. i found out today (from another tenant) that mr. super was cremated the day after his death and that there was a memorial service (in spanish) last thursday. mrs. super is here, trying to put her life together. still, many people in the building have no idea that he died. i feel like the property management company should have issued *some* kind of notice, if for no other reason than the fact that several long-term residents might have liked to have paid their last respects.

in related news, my oven is still broken. no sign of repair on the horizon, either.

my mom bought me a chopper for christmas this past december. it’s not really a food processor, but it serves the same basic purpose: to chop big things into smaller things. i have yet to open the box. it remains unused. i’m not sure what to chop. nuts? but for what? chocolate? again, for what? vegetables? i suppose i’d actually have to have some first in order to chop them. i feel like the chopper is not fulfilling its purpose in life as long as it sits on my shelf. suggestions welcome.

this morning i went to a screening of Horton Hears a Who. it was very cute.

i think claire may have stepped into the #1 spot on my Favourite ANTM Contestants of All-Time list. maybe. probably.

much to my own chagrin, because i hate bandwagon-jumping and tend to actively avoid flavour-of-the-minute trends, i’m reading A New Earth, the eckhart tolle book that oprah is pushing hard lately. i dunno. so far, i am underwhelmed. the book should be a relatively quick read given its length, but i’m finding his writing to be needlessly convoluted, repetitive and laden with froofy doublespeak. his central point is fairly clear – let go of the ego – but, man, does it ever take him lots and lots and lots of words to say it. i’ve just entered the second half of the book, where he begins to address how to fix what ails you, but i’m losing interest. he’s no deepak chopra.

young beatrix and i are desperate for a long-weekend jaunt to buffalo, but mother nature has had other ideas of late. namely: SNOW. given the massive amounts of lake-effect snow that fall in the niagara region, we’d only venture to the states in winter if the forecast for the entire area were close-to-perfect. so, the past two weekends – when we were both free and eager to go – mother nature has dumped copious amounts of snow. this coming weekend, though, the weather is (as of right now) supposed to be ideal. sunny and mild on friday, saturday and sunday. but guess what? young beatrix can’t go because she has long-standing plans. dammit! panera bread co., ted’s hot dogs, target, Cash Cab on discovery, bath & body works, krispy kreme, the cheesecake factory, wegman’s and the sample store will have to wait. rats.

i am hooked on Project Runway and i want to eat cupcakes with tim gunn. canada is about three episodes behind the states...but i’m no fool and i already know who eventually wins. still, it’s a terrific exhibition of talent week in and week out.

i am not eating nearly enough fruit. and my fridge is woefully understocked. i feel like a trip to the grocery store is in the cards for tomorrow.

tonight, given the kaput oven, i am going to attempt to bake a piece of fish (don’t get too excited, it’s multigrain-crusted tilapia from captain highliner) in my toaster oven. this causes me a tiny bit of concern because the electrical wiring in the building is kind of old, and every time i have my toaster oven on for an extended period of time the plug (at the outlet) gets very warm. the fish needs half an hour...so, fingers crossed. no room for potatoes in the little oven, though, so it’ll be seasoned rice as a side dish.

just a short while ago, i had a small epiphany not unlike that which i had around new year’s eve. in an email to a friend of mine, amid a discussion of good and bad, i outlined all the positive things that have happened to me in the past year...and, in the process, i realized (or, perhaps, was reminded): there have been a lot of positive things that have happened to me in the past year. yes, they might have come as a result of negative situations, but they came nonetheless. it was a lovely little “be thankful” reminder, and one that suddenly made me feel quite nice.

[update: who knew? the toaster oven did a fine job! the plug started to get warm at the outset, but then actually cooled right down to normal after a few minutes. so, yay!.]

this is why i watch ANTM...

claire had a makeover. she is absolutely stunning.

energized....or: the funk, brothers...

everybody has their own unique energy.

it doesn’t matter whether you’re aware of it, either in yourself or in other people. it’s there. it radiates off of you and, on some kind of subconscious level, is recognized by the people with whom you come in contact....and vice versa. the vibrations you or i give off are specific to ourselves, and their frequency can turn on a dime depending on a whole whack of factors. these energies – yours and/or someone else’s – can fill you with joy, or mess with your emotional well-being and, sometimes, your physical health. (there’s a ton of literature out there on the subject -- deepak chopra and eckhart tolle’s books for starters, some tenets of buddhism and other spiritual beliefs, etc. -- so i’ll spare you an extended essay on how we’re all connected and how each of us is a strand in the same cosmic thread, blah blah blah. especially if you’re already rolling your eyes at the notion of anybody giving off anything other than B.O.)

i tend to be sensitive to these energies, good and bad. the vibrations given off by someone who’s hostile or nervous or agitated are very different than those of someone who’s calm and relaxed, and those differences are usually lit up like a marquee for me without anyone having to say anything. (and then sometimes i’m totally wrong, and what i perceive as one thing is, in fact, something else entirely.)

nonetheless, these energies are fascinatingly weird.

to that end, i need to get out of my apartment for a while. at the moment, there is such profound grief in the building (over the sudden death of mr. super) that it is actually affecting me without me ever setting foot outside my door. there is a distinct, palpable shift in energy here, and it’s permeating the entire complex. mr. super’s death has affected not only his wife and children, who are all devastated, but more than a few long-term tenants who regarded him as a member of their family.

and all that sadness and heartbreak and mourning is filling the air to such a degree that i can feel it like a big cloud of sorrow. i can’t explain it, but it’s like i’m walking through leaden fog, and it’s starting to screw with my own energy. for lack of a better description: it’s seriously bumming me out. i tried escaping it yesterday by going for a long walk and then meeting young beatrix for dinner, and that worked just fine...until i returned home later in the evening and once again ran face first into that heaviness.

so, i’m heading to my parents’ house to spend the night tonight. i’m hoping that a little break, a big dinner and some ANTM later (ah, claire...i hope they do not destroy you with a crappy makeover!), will help remedy the funk...at least in me. because i don't enjoy it, brother.

laugh, and the world laughs with you...or at you...

given the previous, rather introspective post, i thought something a little lighter in tone might be in order. and i know how squirrelly people get whenever i write about anything serious, so allow me to return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

today’s topic: laughs. laughter. laughing. bringing the funny.

who or what always makes you laugh*, guaranteed?

and...

who is your favourite person (or people) to make laugh?

[*please note: i’m talking about really laughing, not just smiling contentedly or thinking to yourself, “my, my! that was indeed funny!” (that’s right, i know that’s what your collective interior monologues sound like.)]

for me, people i’m with can usually make me laugh harder than something i see on TV or in a movie. ericanddan, young beatrix and denette are very good at it. so is chris l. i love smart, dry, deadpan humour, too, so laura h. is also skilled in that regard. and, though it’s usually in writing since we live in different countries, moob’s emails – especially the ones that mock me outright – rank highly.

entertainment-wise, no matter how often it happens, sarah chalke’s manic, infuriated “frickity-frick-frick” network-friendly “swearing” on Scrubs gets me every single time. i still laugh at Friends. don’t judge me. david alan grier makes me laugh. so does andy samberg. i kneel at the altar of carol burnett and tracey ullman and french & saunders. and anytime jimmy kimmel does segments with kids, i’m usually in tears. speaking of tears, the movie Twisted actually had me crying because i was laughing so hard. (i should point out that it’s supposed to be a crime-thriller.)

as for my favourite audiences, i like a challenge. easy laughs are great, but it’s the tougher nuts to crack that i especially enjoy. if i can really get denette going, i’m quite proud of myself. i think it might have only happened once or twice (if that), but the same can be said for laura h. (you are my everest!). i like making greg laugh. and jaimie. and ericanddan, while technically easy laughs, are fun, too, because our collective laughter feeds on itself and grows to disturbing proportions.

okay, your turn. go!

life and death...and time...and stuff...and things...

tonight, i came home to my apartment building to see a police car parked out front. instantly, memories of hell house came flooding back and i wondered if someone would soon be led out in handcuffs, screaming obscenities and writhing like a crazy person.

thankfully, that did not happen. though, under the circumstances, i think i might have preferred if it had.

i went inside and waited for the elevator with an older woman who’d also just come in. we both saw a couple of men standing outside the super’s apartment talking quietly, and we exchanged concerned looks. (i should point out that you almost never see anyone anywhere in this building. sometimes it feels like the whole place is deserted, there’s that little foot traffic in the hallways...and certainly never people hanging out, chatting.)

she leaned towards me and said solemnly in a near whisper, “did you hear the sad news?”

“what? no. what happened?”

as we got on the elevator, she filled me in. it seems that on friday night, just after 11:30, the super’s husband went out to clear the snow, had a heart attack and died. outside. in the snow. (she guessed that the police car was here tonight just to follow up with the super and make sure things were okay.) i remember hearing fire-engine sirens late on friday night, looking out my window to see the flashing lights reflected in the windows of the nearby houses, and wondering if maybe the trucks were stopped outside my building because one of the other tenants had an accident.

it turns out they’d been there for mr. super.

i was surprised, but not entirely shocked, i suppose. mr. super was kind of a walking contradiction. he was sturdy and strong, but frail. depending on the day, he looked like he was in his late 60s or early 80s. just the other day i remarked to my mom that i was impressed he was still handling all the odd jobs around the building. he was skilled enough that he could fix just about anything, but it seemed like he probably shouldn’t be doing a lot of the manual labour he was still performing.

mr. super didn’t speak much english (mostly spanish), but he and i always exchanged pleasantries and smiles whenever our paths crossed. he had a full head of thick, white hair that was always perfectly coifed. he always wore dress shirts and pants, and always smelled like nice aftershave...as though he was making sure to be properly dressed for work. and i know how much his wife, the super, loved him – watching them work together, literally side by side, was exceptionally sweet. they’ve run this building together for more than 20 years, and were married much longer than that. i can only imagine her profound heartbreak right now.

the last time i saw mr. super was on friday afternoon, as we nearly collided outside the laundry room and laughed about the hurry i was in to add the fabric softener. later, i waved to him through the laundry room window as he and mrs. super passed outside, leaving for an appointment. and earlier last week, he spent a little more than an hour in my kitchen trying (unsuccessfully) to fix my ailing oven and showing me how to fashion a strange-but-invaluable hook-like tool out of an old hanger. he was sort of grandfatherly all around and, even though i didn’t really know him well, i’m sad that he’s gone.

so tonight, i’m sitting here in a somewhat mellow, slightly melancholy mood, having been reminded once again that life is almost always too short, and often over too soon. it’s nothing new, that thought. at least not for me; i’ve known it since i was little and, unlike most of the world, i’ve never lived with an attitude of “that’ll never happen to me.” just the opposite, actually. i know we only get a finite amount of time on earth, and sometimes our number comes up unexpectedly. suddenly. even if it’s not so sudden, no amount of preparation can really prepare you when it happens.

as a result, i’ve found that i often live with a mild sense of urgency. or, perhaps, simply an awareness that the circus doesn’t stay in town forever. i’d rather do it or say it now, than to wake up tomorrow to realize it’s too late and desperately wish that i had. i try to put out more good than bad, and to give without asking to get. i figure if i’m only going to be here for a limited engagement, i might as well do my bit to make sure my show is a nice one that leaves people happy. that’s not to say i think i’m living my best life; far from it. but i am acutely aware of time most of the time.

to that end, sometimes i wonder if i would choose to know if someone offered me the chance to find out when i’ll die. would i want that kind of information? would knowing exactly how much time i had left help me or hinder me? would i surge forward or be paralyzed? (and, yes, i realize some of you are thinking, “hey! i’ve had this talk with vickie before!”) i do enjoy deadlines, but would i really want this kind of deadline?

whenever i think about the subjects of life and death, these questions come up. after i sit around ruminating on what the universe might be trying to teach me when i get news like that of mr. super, i often wonder why i’m not just choosing to surge ahead in all areas of my life, regardless of how much time i might or might not have left on the clock? am i taking enough risks? getting what i want done done? or am i just biding my time...that time on which i *think* i have such a keen eye trained?

should i really be waiting for someone to stamp an expiration date on my forehead before i get on with things already?

anyway...

i apologize for the sloppy structure and meandering content of this post. i wasn’t sure what i wanted to write about, and i seem to have wound up mashing it all together in a manner that’s only moderately coherent. so, instead of rambling on further, i’ll pose the question to you and let you ramble:

if you could find out when you’ll die, would you want to know? why or why not? and do you think knowing would improve your life or ruin it?

oh, fer f**k's sake...

NBC has already cancelled quarterlife. after one episode...making ABC seem positively generous by comparison. bastards!

meet claire...

the most exquisite contestant on ANTM since my beloved yoanna.

here we go again...

i love marshall herskovitz and ed zwick. these two men are responsible for some of my all-time favourite television programs -- thirtysomething, my so-called life (brilliant brilliant brilliant!), Relativity and Once and Again (heartbreakingly good!) -- and are, therefore, also responsible for a great deal of TV-induced heartache for me. why? because they kept producing wonderful shows only to have ABC (the network with whom they were allied) repeatedly CANCEL THEM long before their time. with the exception of cultural phenomenon thirtysomething, all of those listed series were axed waaaay too soon...MSCL and Relativity barely lasted a season each.

perhaps you remember my little rant about this very subject almost a year ago, written in reaction to the alphabet net’s latest good-TV casualty. at the time, i wrote about how i couldn’t understand why ABC kept kicking the bedford falls team (and those of their ilk) to the curb, and i really couldn’t understand why herskovitz and zwick kept going back for more. it was like watching an abusive relationship...only with better writing.

imagine my cauldron of mixed emotions when word spread that the duo were creating another another series. “OMG! AMAZING! (pause) oh no,” i thought. “it’s going to be this wicked show, and i’m going to totally fall in love with it, and then ABC is going to yank it off the air just like they always do! bastards! (sob)”

well, guess what? this time, herskovitz and zwick’s newest baby will debut on NBC. (actually, it already debuted online last fall, but its *television* debut is tonight at 10pm on the peacock network.) now, NBC hasn’t exactly wowed me with its commitment to quality TV – much to my deep and profound chagrin, they were the ones who killed American Dreams, the best new drama in years – so it’s with some degree of cautious optimism that i await tonight’s premiere of quarterlife. it's an hourlong dramedy about a twentysomething blogger and her five twentysomething friends.

experience tells me it’s going to rock. everything H&Z churn out rocks, and i’m beyond excited to see their latest. but i swear to the ghost of rayanne graff that NBC had better get behind this series in a big way. if they can air crap like Bionic Woman or fifteen incarnations of Law & Order, they can spend a few bucks making sure that viewers tune in. that’s all it’ll take...because once they do, they’ll stay.

or, at least, i hope they do.

[edited to add: OMG! herskovitz and zwick WERE rejected by ABC again! seems they originally pitched the show to ABC, who said no! see? see?! ABC is mean.]

faceblock

you learn something new every day...

today's lesson: facebook has a limit to how many things you can do in a day. or maybe an hour. i’m not sure. and, given the recent spate of googling i completed, neither is anyone else.

to backtrack...

i thought i would be really clever and “host” an oscar-viewing party on facebook tonight. i have many very smart and witty friends, but we’re spread out across north america and getting together in a room is kinda tough. but, through facebook, we could (i thought) watch together. we could all be in our pyjamas, and eat whatever we wanted, and sprawl out on our sofas, and no one would have to drive home at the end of the night. instead, we could all just shut down our computers and head to bed. it seemed like an ideal plan!

so, i created a facebook event, sent out invitations and had 12 people say they’d swing by to chat. and, sure enough, shortly after the pre-show began, people did show up! we chatted, we dissected, we mocked, we marvelled...posting messages on the event’s “wall” (for the uninitiated, the “wall” is essentially a bulletin board) and chatting back and forth.

and then, just after 10:15pm, i tried to post a pithy reply and a red warning message (?!) popped on my screen. facebook’s automated tally system was sending me a warning that i was “approaching” my “limit” for wall posts, and that i would be blocked if i didn’t “slow down.” (the warning looked exactly like the one pictured above, which i found via the always-helpful google images, only it warned of wall postings not groups.)

WHAAAAAAT????

nowhere on facebook’s site does it say anything about any kind of limit on wall posts. i searched. i checked the help section. nuthin’. i started to panic. what was the limit number? and how many more posts could i post before i reached it? and when they say “blocked”...what does that mean? blocked for an hour? a day? forever????

a friend of mine googled and discovered that, apparently, facebook can cut you off whenever it wants, for whatever reason it chooses, and sometimes without warning.

i immediately posted one more message alerting my party “guests” that i could no longer post, and then i logged off and fled. very sadly, the spirited discussion stopped on the wall, and all the guests left. what started out so wonderfully as a result of technology was ultimately shut down for the same reason. i realize it's a safety measure to prevent spammers from wreaking havoc on the site, but this was my event...and i was posting on my own wall, not messaging dozens and dozens of people.

after logging off, i did some googling of my own and discovered that a whole slew of people have had their accounts disabled or deleted entirely – without explanation or apology – by the powers-that-be at facebook. some were able to have their accounts re-activated after pleading via email; others were not so fortunate. some were notified that they'd exceeded the allowable limit for emailing, others had maxed out their wall-posting privileges, and a few were cut off because they'd added too many friends. (on a social networking website. whaaaa...?)

regardless of the ironic absurdity of the situation, i’m not taking any chances. i’m not even attempting to post any messages for a while, and i’ve been forced to stare blankly at the remnants of an oscar party that ended around 10:25pm tonight. alas.

anyhoo, HUUUUUUUGE thanks to those clever, clever folks who turned out! you made watching the show a blast and i appreciate your wit. :-)

the oscars

my homemade, stove-top spicy popcorn. delicious!
it will be enjoyed, along with the oscar cake, cheesies and other crap
tomorrow night.

thoughts or predictions? post 'em if you got 'em...

this is why i always go...

tonight was another Live at the Rehearsal Hall taping. this time, very last-minute and with a very small audience (i'd guess maybe 75 people?), it was k.d. lang.

the show was, in a word, amazing.

flawless.

jaw-droppingly good.

i've never seen her perform live in concert before, but i knew she'd be great. i just didn't know she'd be that great. by far the most beautiful LATRH taping yet.

and i had goosebumps all over my body for every single note of the song performed above -- her version of Hallelujah. literally. goosebumps.

mis-manners

the other day, moob and i were chatting about manners. etiquette. being polite. or, more specifically, folks ignoring those things. it happens often, in all kinds of situations, and we started to wonder if maybe people with good manners were somehow going extinct. do people just not do that anymore?

i’m not talking about good table manners, though those also seem to have gone the way of the dinosaur based on behaviour i’ve observed at restaurants, but common courtesies. holding the door open for the person behind you. giving up your seat on the subway to a senior. saying “please” or “thank you.” seemingly ordinary stuff that, you’d think, would be second nature. but it’s not.

so, tonight, some questions and, i hope, discussion fodder. please chime in with your two cents, and answer as honestly as you can. (ahem, this includes all you lurkers. not commenting is rude, you know. ;-))

* do you consider yourself someone with good manners? if so, where do you think that came from? (i.e., is it how you were raised? something you adopted as an adult?)

* do you send “thank you” notes for gifts? why or why not?

* have you ever let someone in line in front of you while shopping? as in, “you know what? you only have two items and i have ten, you can go first...”?

* do you RSVP to all your event invitations? (i.e., even if you’re not attending, you let your host know you won’t be there)

* what’s your stance on host/hostess gifts?

* do you say “thank you” when you’re paid a compliment?

* do you say “please” when you make a request?

* how long does it take you to return a phone message? an email? and are there conditions that affect the turnaround time?

* how do you feel about using your cell phone at inappropriate times or in inappropriate locations? (i.e., while sitting at dinner with friends, while in the washroom, etc.)

* do you think common courtesy is becoming harder and harder to find out in the world? if so, why? if not, why not?

and

* have you ever witnessed a heinous display of bad manners? if so, spill!

feel free to answer some or all of the above. please and thank you. :-)

hold the mayo...no, seriously, please hold it...

i am a picky eater.

this is not new information to anyone who knows me. there are all sorts of idiosyncracies that go along with me when i’m eating, especially when i'm eating out. among them: if i’m having meat (which is a rare occurance), i like it really, really well-done...as in, briquette-like. i don’t like ice in my drinks. i can’t do cole slaw, or pickles, or potato salad. at all. i’m finicky about condiments, preferring to add my own if i’m, say, having ketchup on something. and i do not want mayo anywhere near anything i’m about to eat.

which brings me to yesterday’s adventure in dining.

my mom, young beatrix and i decided to spend the day out shopping, and young beatrix was desperate to visit this quaint little family-run restaurant north of the city because they apparently make the World’s Best Butter Tarts. so, we added it to the itinerary and arrived there just before noon.

it was a really home-y place; a little hole-in-the-wall with mismatched plates and cutlery, decor that resembled a family rec room in the mid-1980s and plenty of friendly staff. the place was almost completely full when we walked in, so we figured that was a good sign. and right by the entrance stood a couple of large cooler/display cases showcasing all manner of tarts, brownies and assorted desserts. excellent!

we were seated and perused the (admittedly basic) lunch menu. mom decided to have the shepherd’s pie, young beatrix was going for the beef and barley soup with a butter tart on the side, and i opted for a BLT.

now, whenever i order any kind of sandwich at a restaurant, the first thing i ask about is mayo. lord, people LOVE their mayonnaise on sandwiches, but not me. i don’t want to see it, i don’t want to hear about it and holy hell i do NOT want to taste it. most restaurants *will* put it on their fare unless the patron (i.e., me) requests otherwise. and, on more than one occasion, even asking them to please skip the mayo doesn’t work and my sandwich (or burger or whatever) arrives with white goop lining the filling.

so, our amiable, 50something waitress – whom i wanted to call marge, because she looked like a marge – took our orders. when she got to me, the FIRST thing she asked was “do you want mayo on that?” i was delighted that she’d broached the subject and said, “no! thanks for asking! no mayo, please. just dry bread, thanks.” she wrote “no mayo” on the order slip (i saw) and off she went.

we waited a good 15-20 minutes for our meals. a different waitress brought us our food and placed each plate down. trixie’s soup looked hearty and good, mom’s shepherd’s pie had come in its own single-serve dish straight from the oven and was steeeeeeeeeeaming hot, and my BLT – on homemade bread – looked delicious.

until i saw it.

right there.

on all four pieces of bread.

MAYONNAISE.

dripping onto the bacon, the lettuce and the tomato.

*sigh*

i called the (second) waitress back over and, because i hate sending food back, said in as nice and friendly way possible, “i’m sorry, but i asked for no mayo and this has mayo on the whole sandwich.” then i lifted a piece of the bread to show her the offending eggy slop. she apologized profusely, took the sandwich away and said that she’d bring me another, but that it would take a few minutes. “no worries,” i said...but i saw the two women sitting at a nearby table give me the stink eye for daring to reject my BLT. whatever, ladies, i hate mayo.

so i sat while young beatrix and mom ate. both said their food was quite good. i continued to wait for mine. about five minutes later, the first waitress returned with my second sandwich. she put it down, apologized again and explained that she’d written, very clearly, “no mayo” on the order. “it’s okay, don’t worry about it!” i said. she left and i prepared to finally eat my lunch.

thing is, experience has taught me that in situations like this, some restaurants don’t really make you a new sandwich...they just salvage whatever they can from the first one and hope you don’t notice. so now i check to see what, if anything, has remained.

and, sure enough, they’d given me new bread, but just dumped the previous sandwich's ingredients – STILL COVERED IN MAYO – back into the second sandwich.

please, someone, tell me...HOW IS THIS BETTER???? okay, now the bread doesn’t have mayonnaise, but the bacon still does. and so does the tomato. AND the lettuce.

i sighed. mom offered me the rest of her shepherd’s pie. trixie offered me part of her butter tart. i called the first waitress back over and explained, this time in a slightly disappointed tone, that the kitchen had just slid the ingredients and their residual mayonnaise onto fresh slices of bread. then, again, i lifted the bread to show her the white clumps inside my BLT.

“i’m gonna kill them,” she said of the kitchen staff. “they’re not supposed to do that.”

no kidding.

by that point, trix and mom had finished their meals and i’d about had it with the idea of a BLT. i’d lost my appetite by then, and was skeptical about my future prospects, so when the waitress asked if i wanted them to try again, i just said, “no thanks.” she wondered if i wanted something else at that point. “no thanks.”

so, my “lunch” consisted of a coke and two crackers. oh, and the butter tarts? trixie liked them, mom said they were meh...and i tried a blueberry-crumble variety, which was AWFUL.

[as an aside, you will note that even in the stock photo of a BLT i have included with this post, there's mayonnaise on it!]

<<-- insert clever song title referencing "love" here -->>

this is a macro-tastic photo of a tulip, taken by lou.
i love it because it looks like a golden heart being ensnared by alien tentacles.

say, did you hear that it’s valentine’s day on thursday?

of course you did, because the reminders are EVERYWHERE.

but i’d like a different kind of reminder, please.

as someone who will be alone this february 14th, i’m looking for some heartwarming, romantic anecdotes, events and tales of love from other people to warm my spirit and the spirits of those who pop by the blog between now and valentine’s day. stories that reaffirm the idea of love, or demonstrate its resilience/beauty/power/humour/whatever.

so, got any? some talking points to get the ideas flowing...

what’s the most romantic thing someone’s ever done for you? or said to you?

the most romantic thing you’ve done for someone else?

the moment you knew your spouse or partner was The One?

what’s your favourite love song?

how about your favourite romantic movie?

is there a particularly romantic story among your family members (e.g., how your grandparents met, your dad's first date with your mom) or friends that always makes you smile?

gimme something. anything. and thank you in advance. while you write, i’ll be over here on the couch, eating a marshmallow heart and waiting...