Sunday, December 13, 2009

Is it over before it begins?

December 6-18, 2009, world leaders and celebrities alike will be meeting in Denmark for the Copenhagen Climate Summit. The goal is to get together to create the Copenhagen protocol - a statement of intent about climate change. Unlike Kyoto, this will not be a "binding agreement".

In my eyes, it's probably a good thing that Canada won't be making any promises that will go unkept. However, after reading this article in the London Telegraph, I think the arrival in Copenhagen makes a more powerful statement of intent than will any document produced at this summit.

The Copenhagen airport is expecting up to 140 private jets during the peak arrival period alone. The airport is so far over its capacity that these planes will have to drop off their passengers and then go park at other Danish and Swedish airports before returning to pick up their VIP passengers.

Car rental companies are having a difficult time supplying enough limousines to meet the demand of those attending the climate summit. There will be over 1200 limos rented over the week. According to rental company manager Majken Friss Jorgensen, "We haven't got enough limos in the country to fulfil the demand. We're having to drive them in hundreds of miles from Germany and Sweden."


Sunday, December 6, 2009

Let's give this another go...

Over the past months, I've often wondered if I should resurrect the old blog. I miss having a creative outlet and connecting with people this way.

Last week, I dreamt that an old acquaintance angrily told me I should keep blogging. That has motivated me to give it a shot. That same night, I also dreamt that I had pooped in a snow globe...which goes to say that I probably shouldn't take this whole dream-messages thing too seriously.

For those of you who still have links to this blog on your own websites, thanks for your faithful optimism.

Stay tuned...

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


Last Thursday, I wore another new shirt without washing it. But don't despair. Even though I don't heed my own advice, I do have the capacity to learn. I sniffed the armpits before I put it on.

Last night I saw a TV news clip about how people should always wash new garments because some of them have been treated with the chemical formaldehyde. Formaldehyde is connected with increased risk of cancer. Shoot.

In non-grubbiness-related news, I spotted some Canada geese hanging out on the river today. Even though they terrify me, Canada geese are a hopeful indicator of spring. Beside the geese there was a flock of smaller birds sleeping on the ice. At first I thought they were ducks and I was super pumped. However, upon closer inspection they turned out to be seagulls...which are not associated with spring but are just a sign of near-by dumpsters.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Open Letter 2

Dear Person Who Tried on My Shirt Before I Bought It,
Even without meeting you, I know we share some things in common. We both shop at Ricki's and we were both drawn to the fun bright-green work shirt. We both tried on the shirt but for some reason, you didn't buy it. Too big? Too green? Too awesome?

Unlike you, I decided to buy the shirt and take it home. Today is St. Patrick's Day. I wanted to get into the spirit of the day by wearing my new green shirt. Unfortunately, I hadn't taken the time to wash it. I know I should have washed it. I know I am gross.

As I was putting on the shirt, I thought about the creepy factory chemicals and dyes that would be riding around on my skin all day. What I didn't think about was the other thing that we now have in common - smelling of your body odour.

At work, when I lifted my elbow to pour my cup of coffee, I caught a whiff of B. O. I quickly looked around to spot the offender. Little did I know, the offender was not in the room. A few smelly wafts later, I figured out that the smell was coming from me. I was confused, as I distinctly remembered applying antiperspirant only an hour earlier.

After some covert underarm investigation, I realized that the offending odour was not emanating from my armpits but from my shirt. My awesome new green shirt. Ugh! All day I have walked around smelling of your B.O.. I spent my working hours holding my arms close to my body to prevent your essence from ascending into the nostrils of my coworkers.

Person Who Tried on My Shirt Before I Bought It, you made me keenly aware of the value of lesson I learned as a young child. I should always, ALWAYS wash my clothes before wearing them.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

The Lady

I celebrated my birthday last week. I turned 28 and had a lovely day. Kyle and I went out for dinner at La Chaumiere, a french restaurant on 17th ave. I have trouble with high-class dining experiences. My trouble is that I am not very classy and consequently, quite awkward.

Awkward moment number one:
We enter the restaurant and are greeted by the Parisian maitre d'. Let's call him Jacques. Jacques consistently addresses me as "the lady".
Jacques reaches for my coat but I quickly wriggle out of it by my own power. Not missing a beat, Jacques extends his right hand to receive my coat and give me my coat check ticket. Not understanding what's going on, I reach for the coat hanger in Jacques' left hand. After an awkward tussle, I realize that a lady lets a gentleman hang her coat for her.

Awkward moment number two:
Jacques leads us into the dining room. He pulls out Kyle's chair for him. Seeing an opportunity to avoid having my chair managed for me, I quickly pull mine out and poise myself to sit down. Jacques panics (in a very calm, classy way). He abandons Kyle mid-sit and quickly turns to my chair, pushing it into my legs as I flop down. Our timing is poor and my chair is about 12 inches away from the table. Without standing up, I shuffle my chair toward my plate. A lady does not stand up to move her own chair.

Awkward moment number three:
Before we see our menus, Jacques asks if we would like an "aperitif".
I request a glass of wine. Does that even count as an aperitif? He asks me what kind of wine I would like. Flustered, I ask, "Do you have a house red?". I know they probably don't, but I can't remember the names of any wines. I'm buying time. Jacques asks, "What type of grapes do you like?". I'm tempted to say, "red ones" but hold myself back. A lady does not engage in smart-assery. I flash him a plebian smile and ask him to choose for me.

Awkward moment number four:
The meal consists of a beautiful blue cheese/strawberry salad and beef tenderloin. We finish with a gorgeous creme brulee. As we exit the restaurant, I find my coat ticket and hand it to Jacques. This round, I know what's coming. The lady is prepared. I have always hated having a man hold my coat open for me but Jacques and his fine manners have won me over. Jacques holds out my coat. I twist my head behind me so that I can find my coat sleeves without groping Jacques. After a few misses, I successfully guide my arms through the arm holes and exit the building, biding Jacques a good night.

Background by Jennifer Furlotte / Pixels and IceCream