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Classes for men. I found this on a fellow bloggers site- thought it was quite entertaining.Classes For Men - Please Sign Up Classes for men at our local Learning Center for Adults � Sign-up by March 31. NOTE: Due to the complexity and difficulty level of their content, each course will accept a maximum of 8 participants. TOPIC 1 HOW TO FILL UP THE ICE CUBE TRAYS Step by step, with slide presentation. TOPIC 2 THE TOILET PAPER ROLL: DO THEY GROW ON THE HOLDERS? Round table discussion. TOPIC 3 IS IT POSSIBLE TO URINATE USING THE TECHNIQUE OF LIFTING THE SEAT UP AND AVOIDING THE FLOOR/WALLS AND NEARBY BATHTUB? Group Practice. TOPIC 4 FUNDAMENTAL DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE LAUNDRY HAMPER AND THE FLOOR. Pictures and explanatory graphics. TOPIC 5 THE AFTER-DINNER DISHES AND SILVERWARE: CAN THEY LEVITATE AND FLY INTO THE KITCHEN SINK? Examples on Video. TOPIC 6 LOSS OF IDENTITY : LOSING THE REMOTE OR ALLOWING OTHERS TO USE IT. Help line support and support groups. TOPIC 7 LEARNING HOW TO FIND THINGS, STARTING WITH LOOKING IN THE RIGHT PLACE INSTEAD OF TURNING THE HOUSE UPSIDE DOWN WHILE SCREAMING. Open forum. TOPIC 8 HEALTH WATCH: BRINGING HER FLOWERS IS NOT HARMFUL TO YOUR HEALTH. Graphics and audio tape. TOPIC 9 REAL MEN ASK FOR DIRECTIONS WHEN LOST. Real life testimonials. TOPIC 10 IS IT GENETICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO SIT QUIETLY AS SHE PARALLEL PARKS? Driving simulation. TOPIC 11 LEARNING TO LIVE: BASIC DIFFERENCES BETWEEN LIVING ALONE OR WITH OTHERS. Online classes and role playing. TOPIC 12 HOW TO BE THE IDEAL SHOPPING COMPANION. Relaxation, exercises, meditation, and breathing techniques. TOPIC 13 HOW TO FIGHT CEREBRAL ATROPHY: REMEMBERING BIRTHDAYS, ANNIVERSARIES, OTHER IMPORTANT DATES AND CALLING WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE. Cerebral shock therapy sessions and full lobotomies offered. TOPIC 14 CAR KEYS AND OTHER ITEMS: Practice on developing skills of putting things back where they belong so that they can be easily found. Upon completion of the course, diplomas will be issued to any survivors. Posted by Bella at 10:29 PM# Bets anyone? New Years rolls around each year and each year we ask ourselves the same question, �What is my new years resolution going to be?� Each year I have the same answer, �Meh.�It is now April and really, I have only done one really nice thing for myself. This one nice thing won�t be proven for at least another couple of years or so- but when it happens, it will be great. I registered for the Technical Writing certificate at Mount Royal College. Basically, when my courses are all said and done, I can go out to the work-field and make upwards of $69 an hour. Wahoo! All that for writing? Man, I knew I was going to make it big sometime. I have actually planned out various things I would love to do this year. 1. Have my technical writing certificate in my hot little hands. 2. Have my project management certificate placed on top of the technical writing certificate in my hands. 3. Be able to look at my RRSPs and imagine my beach side house with my snookums in many many years. 4. Get fit. Everyone says that but I mean it. 5. Be completely swept off my feet by my prince charming. 6. Get back in touch with friends who I lost contact with. Whether they be from high school, Malibu, or random people who I somehow lost touch with. 7. Go for a full body massage� mmmm�. 8. Write a book. I don�t know what about yet, but the idea is there to do it- so it will be done. 9. Make at least 3 extra payments on my car. In the end, it will help. 10. Go hiking a lot this summer. Bike a lot. Heck, buy a bike. 11. Retake the RCMP exam. My mark was high enough in BC but not in Alberta. I�ll show them- my mark will be good enough all across the freakin� country! These things will happen. Mark my words starting now. Posted by Bella at 8:43 PM# Cheers to you who didn�t think I would make it. At my young age, I have accomplished more than most people I know. And there were those who doubted me along the way, and even those who still do. Silly people.I would like to thank my junior high school for giving me the suck up award in grade 9. It was great. I beat Brittany Bray. Now she was the brown noser, but for whatever reason- I was the one who won the Citizenship Award. Now was I giddy, or was I giddy? High school was a bit of a crapshoot. I think I dated 2 guys (one of which only lasted a week), hung out in the journalism lab or the library, usually sat in the front of class, and was basically labeled a nerd. nerd also nurd (n�rd) n. Slang 1. A foolish, inept, or unattractive person. 2. A person who is single-minded or accomplished in scientific or technical pursuits but is felt to be socially inept. Ok that basically defines my high school experience to a T. I was a reporter for The Beacon, followed by the Editor in grade 12. Yes boys and girls, I was the editor. Did anyone really care? No. I had to beg people to read it (really only because I wanted them to know I wrote pieces and the editorial). Come to think of it, I still have to beg people to read my piece in CREN each week� In grade 12, the boobs came out. Not all at once- but at grad. I wowed and dazzled my fellow classmates by wearing a bright fuchsia/purple/orange grad dress, which showed my chest. The one guy who I had a major crush on through out high school asked me to dance at the after grad party and then, only then, did I think somewhere I was noticed. While most of my friends are either married, in their fourth year of university with $60,000 debt behind them, I have gone about and attended the school of life. Actually, it�s a clever place to learn. This educational study taught me how to laugh, cry, make fun of myself (and others). It has taught me how to live without being afraid to take random risks. While my fellow classmates are learning about life through textbooks, I am out there doing the real thing. It�s a little more fun I think. I am thankful to those classmates who looked down on me. If I was a so-called �popular� kid in school, who knows, I might have just followed them and not learned how to be myself. Posted by Bella at 8:28 PM# I thought the night would never come. Then it did. And it was late. An entire freakin hour late.The girls and I sat, waiting with bated breath, in the atrium of our office. The limo should have picked us up at 7- it was approaching 8. I won a Ladies Night package through a local radio station at the beginning of March. For those of you who work with me, know how excited I was. The promo sheet I was given made this night out to be THE night of all nights. We arrived at Mynt around 8pm. We were handed warm martinis and asked if we had reservations. �Hi. I�m Megan Pratt. You know, THE Megan Pratt?!?!� Apparently it didn�t ring a bell. I made the reservations 2 weeks ago- how was I forgotten? We were finally escorted to our seats and presented with our personal male server. His name was Neil. Nice looking man but the personality of a brick wall. He occasionally came around with his tray asking us if we wanted drinks, or food, or, well, that�s it actually. The chocolate fondue FINALLY came and in the words of a Mrs. Vicki Hart, �These melons taste like onions�. I asked for a spoon and finished off the bowl of chocolate- can�t let it go to waste. Apparently I am new to this whole ladies night thing. Actually, I am. I have never been to one before. I heard rumors of there being male dancers/strippers, other live entertainment, and well- an all round good time. Which- there was none of. Our night ended at 10. Disappointing. It�s too bad- chocolate fondues are usually good. Posted by Bella at 12:19 PM# Thanks for stopping. Driving down the Deerfoot trail yesterday, for whatever reason, the cute little Mazda Prot�g� decided to stop in front of me.How kind. My arm automatically came out in front of Chris to make sure he wasn�t going to go through the windshield (before remembering that really, I wasn�t going to help squat- it would be the seatbelt and�), slammed on my super-fantastic new brakes and we stopped. It was amazing. Super amazing actually. When I was younger, whenever mom was driving us around- if she had to stop suddenly, she would put her arm out. Where did this crazy notion come from that we had to save each others lives with our arms? Hi. Arms break. I am trying to say that I am super happy about my new brakes. Alistair is performing QUITE well under the circumstances. (Circumstances being� ME). Now if only I could do something to avoid getting rock chips in the windshield. Groan. Posted by Bella at 3:01 PM# *NewsFlash* I am not always right.Believe it OR not, I do make mistakes, I do tell a little tale, and I do get confused easily. I know, I know what you're thinking- "can this be true?", well I certainly wish it wasn't. Apparently parents DO know a thing or two about life, love, not music, and growing up. Heck, they were there. Just don't tell my parents I said this. I might not hear the end of it. Posted by Bella at 2:32 PM# The most political game I ever played. When my family would buckle down in either the wood panel Mercury stationwagon or the Chrysler caravan, one thing was for sure- we were playing the train game.It was simple. Mom usually had the paper and pen so she was the one who recorded the votes. As a token way of getting us to pay attention and to actually do something while driving between either Vancouver and Revelstoke, or Calgary and Vancouver- we played this game. A game which started off having one basic rule- �Pay attention and say when you see a train- then that one will be counted towards the original guess by you�, turned into a rather political game. Almost thought we were in the House of Commons arguing about different interpretations of rules and laws. After my brothers and I had aged a little, and had gone through a couple years of education, we started to get a little wiser- therefore a little more political in our rules. 1. You had to SEE the train. 2. More than one person had to SEE the train. 3. Was it a Monday? A Sunday? Was it a long weekend? (days of the week made a HUGE difference in how many trains we saw- if any). 4. What if you only heard it or only saw the smoke in the trees? Does that count? We never got any prizes- we only had the satisfaction of the fact we won the game. That satisfaction itself, was usually better than any material good. I grew up around trains really. My great grandparents had a close tie in with CPR. My great grandpa was a train engineer, great uncles were firemen, and great cousins part of the team. My great grandpa�s striped overalls and engineer hat still hangs in their old house in Revelstoke. There was never anything more exciting than driving along the Trans Canada Highway through the Rogers Pass and seeing a train come through the MacDonald tunnel. It was even better if it was the Rocky Mountaineer. Occasionally, we would pull over and wave at the trains going by. We were always so excited to see them wave back. Although I have grown a little older, a little wiser, and a little less childish, this game is still played. I drove to Vancouver a couple years ago with two friends, en route to see Dave Matthews Band in concert- I busted out the pen and paper and we played the game. Oh yah- they thought I was off my rocker. When I grow up- I want to be a train engineer. Sounds odd, but what job would give you a better chance to see the mountains, from the inside out? Then maybe I would bust out my grandpa�s striped overalls. For sure, if I have kids, they are playing this game. And even if everyone else in the car thinks its totally lame, I�ll play it by myself. Posted by Bella at 12:10 PM# Marriage, equality, and pigs in mud. Growing up, my Barbies were always getting married. Ken would marry Barbie. Skipper would marry Ken. Ken would marry Midge. Kevin would marry Skipper. It was one of those crazy inbreeding things, which caused all the Barbies to look alike. Incestuous almost.The Barbies were soon replaced by Seventeen magazines. When I finally grew out of reading my Seventeen mags, Cosmopolitan was (and still is) the magazine of choice. This magazine filled my young mind with ideas for the prom, the first, second, and even third date with that young man of my choice, and of course, the first time we do the deed. After that, the multiple partners from there were discussed between the covers, until we hit the W word. Every spring there would usually be a wedding pull out. The hot dresses of the season, the flowers, the shoes- oh and of course the big fat diamonds for the saved finger, were all advertised in this 200 page "How To Grow Up Fast" manual. It filled my mind with thoughts and fantasies of those hopeful days to come. In 2004, we are plagued with so many stats, we are hearing statistics of statistics. Lately though, there are a lot more divorce stats and marriage stats floating around. They peaked my interest and I was deeply intrigued to figure out why this is such a hot topic. Apparently a high percentage of women said that they would definitely swap their equality and their job for a day for being kept by a man, preferably a rich sports star. More in four in ten of 25 to 34 year olds said they would leave even highly successful and powerful positions to live the life of luxury with a guy who would pay all the bills. That figure rises even higher, to one in three among the 18 to 24 year olds. I couldn't imagine not working, but just hanging out at home waiting for my other half to walk through the door with a paycheck. That doesn't interest me. Where I would I feel a sense of completeness and equality? I wouldn't. I would feel bored and needy. Of course I imagine the day where my dad gets to walk me down the aisle with all my friends and family, (and random other guests who family members invite) and up to my future husband. I don't know a girl who doesn't think about that. But what I don't understand is why to suddenly give up your job or ambitions to become a housewife. I would be in trouble- I am a horrible cook! When I get hitched to the lucky bugger who snags me, I want to remain working and ambitious. I want to be able to still bring home a paycheck and be happy with myself. I don't want to have to ask my man to borrow his credit card so I can buy a new pair of shoes. I want to be able to be a strong career woman. Heck- maybe I will run for Prime Minister. Ha- or not. There is this crazy disillusion by women about the intense focus and dedication needed to succeed which, when combined with daily home and family demands, leaves them drained and exhausted. Some women have this crazy biological clock ticking and need to drop what they are doing, get hitched, have sex, and make babies. Ha- not me. I will work until I cannot work anymore. I am happier than a pig in mud going to work each day, ( I guess it helps that I love my job). Marriage shouldn't be a "drop everything you're doing and stay at home waiting for your other half to come home", you should be able to be equal and have ambitions and dreams and hopes. Have a life. Forget the rich guy- I like the equality. Posted by Bella at 8:49 PM# A little side note... Aaron wrote in:Alan Turing was gay. He was also one of the worlds greatest cryptographic codebreakers and his logic helped the Allies break the encrypted messages of the German Enigma. Without his contribution the fate of the war is very much in debate. At Belchley Park where all the codebreaking was done he was accepted even though he was gay. After the war research institutes like the NSA and DARPA refused to allow him to work on anymore cryptograhpy and outed him to the general public as gay. Several years later he committed suicide because his genius would no longer be recognized. In light of your recent blog I thought you might find that remotely interesting if not simply delete the last 10 minutes of your memory. - Thanks Aaron. That actually IS interesting. Thanks for bringing it to light! M. Posted by Bella at 8:40 AM# Actually this is MY modest proposal. The Calgary Sun never ceases to amaze me with the junk they publish. On a regular basis, I have my pink pen out, editing their paper. Hi. If YOU are a writer for a newspaper, for heavens sake, spell the words right! But that's not the reason for post. Well, at least not today.On March 16th, the Calgary Sun ran an editorial by Michel Coren, columnist and broadcaster. It begins: My Modest Proposal. Gay couples are getting married all across North America. What a great symbol of tolerance. And continues, In the name of that same tolerance, however, I believe we should go further and allow brothers and sisters to marry. In other words, incest should be not only allowed but recognized and affirmed by this state. Ahem. Number 1. Beating A Dead Horse on a Slow News Day Who the f**k cares if John and Joe get married? Does it hurt anyone? Is anyone bleeding? Nope. Conservative society is terrified of same sex couples being together, but offering no solid reasons. Maxims, rants, and bad metaphors, but no solid logical arguments against legally protecting the property rights, inheritance rights, visitation rights and tax benefits of same sex couples the way we do for mixed sex couples. This has been around since just after the beginning of time. Who cares if these people, the same as you and me, want to be married to the person they love? There is NO legal or constitutional problem with that. On what grounds does anyone assume it is THEIR right to go ahead and tell these people they can�t do that? Still not seeing bleeding anywhere. No deaths. No surges in unemployment. No terrorist bombings. Nothing. Number 2. Comparing Apples to Anvils If I were to get the jiggy on with my brother, not only would that be really weird - but man, that�s my brother. A brother or sister is your blood, your kin, not your lover. Incest and romantic love are as far apart from each other as are fighting for your country and committing mass murder. So let's just not go there okay? Good. Number 3. WWJD? The same Bible you're misquoting to slam gay couples with is jammed full of God-endorsed incestuous relationships. Cain and his wife. Abram and Sarai to name just two. Find a new argument Michel. Last night's episode of Law and Order was about a gay man who was found dead on the street. His lover's dad was the one who killed him, out of rage by the fact his son was a homosexual. I watched this show wondering why something as cut and dried as murder would even seem complicated because the whole gay thing got thrown into the mix? If the victim were black or jewish or hispanic, and the suspect were white, we'd find the story repulsive and wonder what kind of sick agenda the writers had? Aye aye aye. This whole thing goes so much deeper than I've touched on. I don�t want to offend anyone by what I write so I'd best end this here with a closing thought: Maybe this Michael Coren guy is sleeping with his sister or brother and trying to tell everyone, between the lines of course. Posted by Bella at 1:44 PM# Who taught you to spoke? Message to you whoever you are.When you write me an email or write me a letter, spell everything right. Punctuation is a must as well. If you know how to properly use a comma, then do so - if you don't, just continue on with your run-on sentence and I will contemplate taking you seriously. In the technical writing class I am taking right now, the handbook which we are using is full of mistakes. How do I take an instructor, and even an institute, seriously if they can't spell or properly put together a sentence? I can't. So I wrote them a letter. Now I am not saying I am a perfect grammar goddess, but I do have my days. Yes, and those days are good. I can spell, I can edit, I can proof, heck- I can even write a sentence and use the comma in the right place. Maybe I am a grammar snob. If I receive an email from a person at my place of employment, and the 5 paragraph notice is one large run-on sentence, I might just fix it and send it back to them. Then I would ask them to send it BACK to me so I can take it seriously. Don't use ALL CAPITAL LETTERS. THIS MIGHT MAKE YOU SOUND LIKE YOU ARE YELLING. IF IN FACT YOU ARE YELLING AT ME, CALL ME AND DO IT INSTEAD OF EMAILING IT TO ME. If it is in proper lower case, thank you- I consider that to be more polite. It is amazing how in school I could care less if my name was even spelt right, but now- if I see a word spelt wrong, I can almost completely disregard the email or letter and move on. If you want me to take you seriously, I will take you seriously. Only if your grammar and punctuation is correct. Grammar snob, I like that. Does that fit on a license plate? Posted by Bella at 9:39 AM# 1 fish 2 fish. Green fish, blue fish. In all of Dr Suess' books, his characters got along.There was every sort of creature imaginable and yet, they all got along in this perfect little world. I have one fish bowl, 3 fish, and yet- there is ALWAYS something wrong with at least one of them. Either the two orange fish gang up on the half white, half orange fish, and eat all the food, or just exclude him from the other relay races the orange fish seem to be SO enthrauled with. Where do I sign up? My mom mentioned to me a study that was done on geese. There was one albino goose who was a reject from the flock. Can you imagine? It's like being the only kid in the bunch who no one likes because you have some wierd thing about you that doesn't match the other ones. Wow. What a cookie-cutter society. My fish are retarded. I am saddened still by the fact my black fish, Luther, is gone. I had hope for him. Now I am on the look out for my half and half fish who isn't eating or playing with the others. This is retarded. In the book Green Eggs and Ham, the dude who served the meal looked a little sketchy. Not really a typical guy who would serve a meal like that. But really, no one died. It was still good. Why does my fish's colour matter? Now he needs a cool name like Luther. Posted by Bella at 11:41 PM# Thanks guys, I'm here all week! Try the wings! Ok ok ok... jeez you guys are impatient. I had no idea I was this popular.Well kids, to be honest, I don't know what to write about. Do you have an idea? Yes, yes you do. Because if you didn't, you would'n't be harassing me!!! So email me at meganepratt@hotmail.com and yes, I will grace my site with yet another fabulous, and yes, even modest (you know me), blog. Your wish is my command. Well, I am not doing your laundry. Your mom can do that. And no, cooking is out of the picture too- I can't cook. Posted by Bella at 11:33 PM# Hit a sore spot eh? This blog is in regards to the recent Todd Bertuzzi incident. This wonderful piece is by a fellow co-worker.I have no comment on the bombings as I haven't seen all the news. But I do want to comment on the Todd Bertuzzi posting you made the other night... I feel like I'm in a fan "call in" show.... Although Bertuzzi should receive all the punishment he is getting and more, I want to take exception to your comments on Danny Heatly. Yes he was driving a weapon that killed his best friend, but there was no intent. These are children with the income of kings, and his supped up Ferrari is something that shouldn't be in the hands of children. They don't have the maturity to deal with it, even someone as level headed as Heatly, according to his junior coach, who I know very well. His was a very different type of mistake that has nothing to do with what Bertuzzi did. There were a few weeks leading up to the Bertuzzi incident that included statements from people all over the NHL asking to get rid of the instigator penalty so that the "goons" could police the Nazlund hit the way it used to be done. The Canucks were hinting at payback since the Nazlund hit happened. Bertuzzi's hit was pre-meditated, it was meant to injure, and it deserves as stiff a penalty as he got, if not more. Some people say that this type of thing happens without injury all the time and the suspension was too severe, but think about it in terms of what I call the bullet theory. If you shoot at someone and miss or graze them, it's attempted murder. And the penalty is quite minor. Minor in comparison to what it would be if you actually hit the person in the heart and killed him. The extent of the injury should, and did, come into the decision for the punishment Bertuzzi received. He is out indefinitely, and at least through the end of the year and the playoffs. When you think about it though, almost every play in an NHL game could be considered assault in the real world, so it's hard, in my opinion, to put the same rules of the street on a hockey game. His crying on TV may have seemed contrived, but I think Bertuzzi is sincerely sorry for putting another player through what he put him through. I hope it is a wake up call for the entire league, but as with the McSorley incident, tempers and emotions will simmer down and we will look at this with a little more of an objective perspective in a few months. All this being said, Bertuzzi probably won't play again for a long time since there may not even be a season next year with a strike looming very large. And Megan, when we play hockey...You're going down, Girl!! :) Sure. Right. I'm tougher. - Megan Posted by Bella at 8:22 AM# An attack on democracy. March 11, 2004 has now been declared Spains 'September 11'. This day will now go down in history as the biggest and most devastating terrorist attack in Spain.Spain's capital is now considered a killing ground. Oh makes me want to wake up again in the morning. What is going to happen tomorrow? How about next week? Bomb after bomb ripped through the rush hour trains. Bodies hung from rooftops of nearby buildings, body bags and make shift memorials were all over the streets. What is going on? First the separatist group called the ETA was blamed. They then came out and said no, it was too complex of a terrorist attack for them. Glad to know they would downgrade to maybe a bus, not a train. They said in a news release they would at least give a warning. Thanks guys. How kind. Next, the al Qaeda claims blame. A stolen van found, an Arabic tape inside. A letter was sent, responsibility was claimed. Thanks guys. The twin towers weren't enough for you? Next what? What is the next bright idea? 200 people dead. Thousands injured. Many more scared for their lives. In a country with only days to an election, timing symbolized an attack on democracy. Nothing can justify such barbarity. This is a battle that shows no sign of end. But oh so glad President Bush was right in there making sure the world knew of his condemnation of terrorism. Last time I checked, half the world calls HIM a terrorist too. Posted by Bella at 10:34 PM# Dear National Hockey League, Dear National Hockey League,It was a case of vigilante justice, a classic example of what happens with resentments from one hockey game are permitted to fester and then explode in violence in another game. So a drunk hockey player, Danny Heatley, driving and speeding out of control in his supped up Ferrari, gets away with murder after crashing with one of his teammates in his vehicle, with nothing more than a slap on the hand. In 2000, Marty McSorley was charged with hitting Canucks player Donald Brashear with his stick. McSorley was convicted of assault with a weapon, but he received an 18-month conditional discharge, meaning no jail time and no criminal record. Oh, what was that? Another slap on the hand? So NHL, what is it? Are you condemning violence and retaliation or are you celebrating it? It seems to me arenas are never short of fans which is fantastic for you I'm sure. The amount of beer and peanuts being purchased must bring in great revenue. Is watching your players be eternally injured enough for you? Is a death on the rink next? Would that get fans in the seats? I might be a bigger fan of hockey if I actually got to see a game. Not a game where retaliation was plated for the entire time. Todd Bertuzzi can cry all he wants on the camera. What was said in the locker room only days before the game should be evidence enough this guy isn't actually sorry. It's part of the game, right? Suspended for 12 games, $600,000 in lost money from the team and Bertuzzi's paycheck, and the chance to play in the Stanley Cup. Is that enough? This is a message to all players. Despite the apology, he is not out of the woods yet. I'm sure Bertuzzi will recive a standing ovation as he enters his next game. Heatley did. Whats the difference? Suspension should be kicked into next season. Legal intervention needed? Definitely. Remove the fighting from the NHL ice. Fans concerns should be heard and dealt with. We want clean hockey. We want to see the game. Not blood and retaliation. Post this in your locker room. Sincerely, Megan Pratt Fan of the good ol' clean hockey game. Posted by Bella at 10:24 PM# Sushi anyone? At approximately 11.34pm last night, my fish died.He laid on the steps to the fishie oriental palace I have in the bowl, and he died. Sad thing. I even shed a tear. In other news, free- 3 bully fish. Posted by Bella at 8:53 AM# I think the little bugger is going to be ok. For the past week, Luther, my black fish, has been living in my mom's good measuring cup. Tonite, I reunited him with the other fish. He will be on careful watch for the next couple days. Hopefully he will recover and swim around like the other ones do.Be rest assured though, if the other fishies decide to gang up on him, they will be sushi. Fish anyone? Posted by Bella at 10:19 PM# FOR SALE Honda Civic LXGEternal Blue. 4 doors. Goes by the name of Alistair. Likes long drives through the mountains, passing slower vehicles, and rowdy music. Enjoys being talked to, the steering wheel 'petted' when he has done someting right, and has mastered the art of parallel parking. Alistair is only 2 years old but has already endured what 5 years should have done... he has 68,000kms on him but each one- he has enjoyed and has not complained. He has fond memories of driving to Vancouver for the Dave Matthews Band concert, driving from Kimberley to Calgary and back again almost every weekend for 6 months. Enjoys the sun, the beach, and making sure everyone is comfortable inside. He warms up fast, slows down well, and has only one, ok two, door dings. Other than the fact he needs new front brakes and an air filter, he is running smoothly. Oh, and then there is the high pitched squeeking noise which erupts if his steering wheel is turned too sharply. Free to a good home. What the hell- no he's not. He's mine. Forget it. Posted by Bella at 7:16 PM# A momentary vent. Ever notice how some of the most wretched, most intolerable, most insane people manage to keep a job? How do these people manage to even fool their employers in the first place?It's driving me nuts. These people have full time jobs where I have a temporary contract job. Something is wrong. I know I am far from perfect but I will admit, I am way better than some of these people. Posted by Bella at 8:34 PM# Ok... now I am blushing. ... but I will post it anyways. Thanks guys- some of these things you write about are things I don't realize I do, or don't do.I'd like to add my two or three sense (on purpose) to the others. I'm glad others see your ability to cross the generations, whether it's x,y,z,a,b or c. You do have a very complex personality and I enjoy coming down to visit without knowing which one I'll get. You can be very sexy and flirty, or stubborn and belligerent, seemingly disagreeing just for the sake of it. But always in a way that makes me smile. You can be intellectual to a level well beyond your years, or want to learn like a kid in school seeing the light for the first time. But the best I see in you every time, is that you ALWAYS want to do your best or not at all. The lucky man who does end up winning your heart will be a man who will never be bored, always be challenged, better be on his toes, and I'm sure will always wear a smile, if not on the outside, always on the inside. You talk a lot about your "assets" in your posts, and since I think girls like to hear it, I'll try to give you another compliment, hopefully without being weird. As much as people say looks don't matter, they do. Something has to make you approach another person. For you it's amazing, expressive eyes and dancing eyebrows. Some people have the ability to convey emotion through a look better than others and you have it in spades. If that's not enough, on what isn't just another pretty face, those hot guys will next notice those full, very inviting, pouty lips. I won't go any farther down the list, so to speak, but my point is you have a lot to offer your soul mate in a lot of different ways. Thanks. Thanks a lot! Excuse me as I try and get my head through the door for dinner... Posted by Bella at 6:11 PM# The pleasantries of the Shell car wash. Each Sunday afternoon, I pack myself into Alistair (and for those of you who don't know- Alistair is my car) and drive to the Willowpark Shell station.A couple reasons why I go there. 1. If I smile nicely, the guy behind the counter gives me bonus airmiles. 2. Gas is usually about $0.001 cheaper. 3. They have the best carwash, usually... On my daily venture today, I had my dad in the co-pilot seat. I think he was fairly new to car washes- seemed a little curious as to the whole thing going on around him. But then again, I was too. We pulled up to the station where I am suppose to punch the code in, and I did. Dad asked me if I turn off my car when going into it- no daddy- I put my car in neutral. After about a meter into the carwash- I knew something was wrong. The lack of pressure coming from the hoses was a definite sign of a good $8.99 (plus tax) wasted. We hit the foaming wash part and it only covered the last 1/4 of my car. Again, not amused. The carwash actually came to a halt. My car was not moving. I was sitting there looking around waiting to be either held up by some masked weirdo or for the entire building to come crumbling down on me. Dad was brave enough to get out and leave through the exit door (by the way, the exit door wasn't marked anywhere- Scott- you're a firefighter- don't you deal with things like that? Poorly marked exit doors?). I put my hazard lights on, and sat patiently in my car, waiting for a sign of intellegent life to come back and save me. Ten minutes later, a Shell employee turned off the car wash then turned it back on. I was pushed out and drove up to the cashier/convenience store part. Fellow drivers and patrons inside the station were laughing at me. I can handle the odd chuckle at my convenience- but not this time. Oh no- I had random pink and yellow and blue foam running down the sides of my car. My dad was the brave soul who spoke with the employee about a new car wash ticket seeing how I still had street salt all over the sides of my car. This was the classic line. "Maybe this time you should put your car in neutral". Ahem? Right. I wasn't going to touch that one with a 10-foot pole. Good thing he didn't tell that to my face. (Because I am OH SO tough). I ended up going back through the car wash- IN NEUTRAL, this time with a clean car and a smile on Alistairs face. Moral of the story- there is no moral actually. I just wanted to tell you what happened. I guess maybe- make sure your car is is neutral when going through the car wash. Rrrrright. PS- Thanks dad, if it wasn't for you getting out and braving the sprayers, I would still be sitting there wondering what was happening. Posted by Bella at 3:05 PM# We call him Luther. So my fish, he's black.Almost a charcoal colour actually. He is about 12 cm long- a regular ol' Goldfish by anyone else�s eyes- but a lucky star in mine. The other day when I came home from work, he was laying in the fish bowl, on his side, not moving. I scooped him up with the fishy scooper and put him in my moms� best measuring cup. (I don't think she is too impressed about it but what can you do?) It was either an extremely deep bond I had with my fish or the fact I was stupid tired, because I started crying. Not just little tears, I was actually afraid I was going to flood the house. He was lying in the measuring cup for a couple hours, I checked on him periodically. Because I didn't feel like waking up to a dead fish in my room, I asked my dad to do the honours and flush him. He took the cup from me and I fell asleep. In the morning, I woke up, had a shower, and when I walked back through the kitchen- my fish was in the measuring cup, on the kitchen table, swimming. Hm. I wasn't unhappy, but I wasn't happy. My fish was toying with my emotions. Mom checked on him through out the day and told me I should probably feed him- maybe he wasn't getting enough food in the other tank. I actually believe the other 3 ORANGE goldfish in the tank were bullying up on him. You know, he�s black and the other guys are orange� This whole thing happened on Thursday night- it is now Sunday morning and he is alive and well. I was sure only humans were asses to each other about what colour their skin was- not fish. Sad to find out it happens to everything. Despite the odds, he is still alive. Sound like any other famous black person you know? Posted by Bella at 10:14 AM# Because I am extremely modest, read about me. A guest post by a close personal friend of Her Supreme Inimitably Flirtatious Fashionableness, Megan.So let me tell you about Megan. Because while you think you know her, you really don't know jack. Megan is one of those people whose age you'd never guess accurately because while she has some of the quirks and mannerisms of a teenager, she has the wide-eyed ambition of a senior in college and the stark pragmatism of a boomer. What's surprisingly missing is all the spurious arbitrary angst of the Gen-Xers she mingles with and the superficiality of the Gen-Y types she'd easily pass for. She's entirely herself. Radiating when she could be absorbing. Big fancy words to say she's the most genuinely fun grownup I know. I know almost everyone's story except Megan's. I've seen parts of it, but what I've seen doesn't jive with what I've seen come out of those stories. By all accounts Megan's supposed to be a brooding pissed off jaded selfish hard boiled militant feminist activist with an anti-man agenda to rival the best of them. Not so with Megan. Beats me, why. But since her "Stuff" doesn't seem to shape her, I'm going to gloss past it. Idealism shapes Megan. Ever seen a cruise missile? Those ones they pre-program a target into and then fire out of a ship at like mach 2. Weather, terrain, anti-missile systems, and concrete walls are all useless. The cruise missile has a destination in mind and it just Gets There. Megan's like that. Without all the senseless material plans, she has a vision of who she wants to Be and how she wants to Be when she's there. I really believe that vision is what's behind what some people misinterpret as stubbornness and workaholism. She doesn't know or care how the middle part is supposed to go, she just knows where she's headed. Megan is about love. Not frilly superficial romance or selfish covetous possessive love, but just a life in celebration of the expressing and sharing of affection. Her greatest happiness and her deepest hurts come from her heart. And Megan is about sexuality, in a good way. While I've seen women who've been shaped and defined by their sexuality, Megan has taken it and made it hers without compromising her identity inside of it. Flirtatious and sensual WHILE remaining dignified and aloof. You have to see it in action to understand. Envy and pity the man who she chooses. It'll be fantastic and complex. Lastly, Megan has practical morality. She gets it that rules are a standard but love transcends standards. Sound familiar? Yeah. Jesus. Megan may just be accidentally emulating him. Without taking on the lifestyles of her friends she doesn't shun those people. Where something is questionable she lets it slide, but where something is destructive, she'll light up! Interestingly, while she forgives her friends I know she lets her own self-discovered failures haunt her secretly and keep her focused on her ultimate vision for herself. It is always nice to hear good things about you first thing in the morning. Actually, its great to hear them ever. Thanks. Posted by Bella at 9:16 AM# |
