Aug 30
2010

You know what irritates me to no end? When people post pictures of themselves giving the camera the middle finger. There is nothing classier than this show of grace and decorum. Twenty five extra points if there is a cigarette dangling from their mouth, fifty points for a bottle of alcohol, a hundred points for a small child somewhere in the photo. I have seen all of the above.

I don’t understand the phenomenon. It does not look bad-ass, it looks skanky. It’s not like anyone looks at your picture where you’re flipping off the camera and thinks “Oh man! This person is such a rebel, look at them! They clearly don’t give a crap about society or its rules. I better not mess with them!” No. These photos have become such a cliche and are synonymous with trash now.

What happened to a simple smile? Obviously, it’s way more “hardcore” to give a big “FUCK YOU!” to the world through your photo (and hey, who doesn’t feel like saying that sometimes?) But seriously. This trend needs to die, hard and fast.

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Aug 25
2010

On Friday morning, there was an accident in Calgary, and there is video footage of it (though not available to the public.) A twenty one year old man was killed. This happens every day, car accidents are an inherent risk of being a driver. What happened to this particular man, though, really speaks to how apathetic people are becoming, and it’s especially sickening that this callousness is recorded.

Early in the morning, Philip Harper was in this car accident, but what makes this case stand out is that he was thrown out of his minivan, was laying on the pavement, and drivers drove around his body. No one stopped to see if he was okay. No one pulled over to check his pulse, to see if there was anything they could do, or stopped to give what little they could, just comfort in his last moments. I went to school with Phil in junior and high school. He had celebrated his birthday two months previously. Friday morning, Phil spent the last minutes of his life on the cold asphalt on a street in Calgary, and people gawked and kept driving.

I am completely and thoroughly disgusted. It’s not that I was close to Phil, because I wasn’t. We were always in different circles in school. It wasn’t that he was barely twenty one years old. It’s that people could harden their hearts to the point where they clearly see someone that was obviously in an accident, laying on the ground, alone in his pain and fear, and they can continue to drive. How is that even possible? I have been lucky enough to have only seen one accident in the two months that I have been driving, and it was already being dealt with by the police. But this accident went unreported by almost everyone that saw it happen, or saw the results.

Although I didn’t ever really talk to him, it is clear through the status updates from my friends on Facebook, and on the memorial page that has been set up for him, that he touched a lot of people’s lives. This accident has impacted a lot of people, and I can’t imagine how his family is feeling after learning that this horrific accident was witnessed by so many, but reported by so few. Even worse that no one stopped to comfort him, or even check on him.

It made me stop and consider what I would do if I saw this unfold before me, or what actions I would take if I saw the wreckage of an accident. And the results were fast, and painfully obvious… I would at the very least call 911 and report it. If I saw that no police were there, and someone could be hurt, I would pull over and see if there was something I could do… how is the answer not the same for everyone? How is it possible for people to be so heartless?

I have read the comments that are on the news articles, and they are disturbing. Some are justifying their inaction by saying that when they call 911, they get snotty people answering the phones, giving a bad attitude and saying that they have already received plenty of calls about that particular incident. They also use a roundabout reason by saying that because the police don’t want us to use our phones while we drive, we are setting ourselves up to get penalized for doing this. Seriously? You don’t think that they would look the other way in this case? Reporting an accident is a necessity. They can’t know something happened unless they are TOLD, or happen to have a cruiser out and about and come across the carnage. What if it was your son or daughter that was lying on the street after a horrific accident, and people slowed down and swerved to avoid any contact with the vehicles, and carried on their merry way? Could you live with yourself if it was proven that had you called the police, the person would still be alive? The first ten minutes after an accident are the most critical to save the victim’s life.

R.I.P. Phil. It’s obvious that you were a great person that brought a sparkle to a lot of people. I’m sorry the world had to lose you when you had so much more life to live. You, your family and everyone else that was affected by your death are in my thoughts.

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Aug 5
2010

I haven’t been feeling too well, emotionally or physically. Hard few days. I figured it’s best to just shut up than get into it.

Anyway, you know what bothers me? That people insist on eating fish that are at high to severe risk of being over-fished. My biggest gripe today is about the Orange Roughy, which is an ugly fish that is served as a delicacy. Although this fish is at a high-risk of being fished into oblivion, what concerns me the most is that we selfish humans are eating fish that can live to be between 130 to 149 years old (depending on the source.) This fish takes thirty years just to be old enough to reproduce, so it is easy to see why over-fishing would be a problem.

I just think that it is so sad that just because we can, humans fish and fish our seas, as though it is a replenishable resource that will never be depleted, and we are putting living things on our plates that have the potential to outlive most human beings. It is a living, swimming, breathing piece of history, that has seen so much change in the oceans over the decades… and it ends up steamed next to a pile of vegetables. It’s so sad.

Although I am the first to admit that I eat a lot of fish, I try to avoid all fish that are on Greenpeace’s Red List, which is a compilation of the fish most vulnerable to over-fishing. ‘What about farm-raised fish?’, you may ask? Well, for at least one species of fish (salmon,) it takes three pounds of wild “feeder-fish” to raise one pound of farmed salmon. So in order to bring up salmon numbers, we are depleting other fish numbers. It’s a vicious cycle.

I think it would be wonderful if you just look at the list, in hopes that it makes you more conscious of what species of fish you are consuming. I’m not asking you to stop eating all of these fish, but just think about the huge impact that over-fishing could have on the ecosystem, and the world’s future fish population.
(Actually, I would love to ask if you would try to avoid eating Orange Roughy especially, since it is so incredible that it can live to be that old.)
Here is the list of endangered fish: Red-list Fish

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Jul 28
2010

Quarter after twelve in the morning, up in six hours, and too frustrated to sleep. There isn’t even one or two things in particular keeping me up. It’s a culmination of being over-tired because my insomnia has been kicking my ass lately, feeling frustrated at life in general, and feeling particularly ornery because of the damn heat. So I’m just going to list off a list of what is bothering me tonight, in no order, and not relaying the degree to which one is causing me to feel like this tonight. (Antsy, anxious and pissed off, in case you were wondering.)

– It’s upsetting that I keep making little discoveries of things that I don’t want to see or have in my possession anymore. This past weekend, it was gifts that A had made me and pictures of the two of us and things like that, things that have been in storage for months and I completely forgot about. The other night I couldn’t sleep because of how hot it was, so I went out for a drive to get one of my favourite bottles of iced tea, though the nearest location that sells that one particular kind was pretty damn far. I had nothing else to do so I made the trip, then remembered the stuff I had to return to A so I did that on the same trip, and even though I slipped it under his door and didn’t actually have to see him, just talking was difficult enough for me. But I was done with it, I thought I had finally swept off the final remnants of that and could be over with the awkward exchanging of things. However, tonight while I was clearing out document holder with a bunch of my important papers in it, I found more pictures I have to give back, and it’s frustrating because I worry that now it looks like I’m just finding “convenient” excuses to meet with him or whatever, which is not the case at all. I went to great lengths to avoid face-to-face contact the other night, declined an invitation to go out to eat, because the last time it happened was so damn hard on me. And I have to do the whole “I have stuff of yours, haha, I keep popping up, don’t I? Isn’t that great?” bit, and it sucks. I thought I had done a clean sweep of everything, but I keep finding new things. If I hadn’t already told him to expect an envelope of stuff waiting for him tomorrow, I would do a thorough re-check of everything, just to make sure that was all of it, but I was too prompt and I will be kicking myself if I end up finding anything else.

– I instantly go cold and detached inside when I hear the flick-flick of the lighter, the inhale, the exhale. Even hearing it through the phone does something to me, and I hate it. Especially after talking about my grandfather just the other day, and how horrible and difficult it was for everyone in my family when he died of severe lung cancer caused by his habit.

- As always, one of my biggest issues that affects my mood is how I take my reflection that day. That sounds weird, but it’s how I feel. If I take my image as “Decent, not horrible right this minute”, things are a lot easier to cope with. For the most part, and a lot lately, it’s “Fucking gross, stop looking at the god damn mirror.” I know, I know, bitch bitch bitch, but it’s constantly on my mind and affecting my thoughts and mood.

- I wish there could be just one day that I could say exactly what is on my mind, to everyone about everything, and have no fear of repercussion. I could finally get off my chest what has been bothering for a long time but know that saying out loud would be the worst possible thing to do for everyone else, and my situation. Please tell me that I’m not the only one who feels this way.

- I’m frustrated because things have stalled, and there doesn’t seem to be a way to kick-start them back into motion. I hate the lack of momentum.

- My lack of a future scares the shit out of me.

- Sleep would be so fantastic right now, but it just won’t happen. Now what? I don’t know. Spider-solitaire or Mah Jong, I guess.

– I really wish I could reconnect with a few people from my past, but have no certain way of going about it, and I vaguely remember trying to do it once with each of these people, but nothing ever resulted from it. I should leave well enough alone, and I will… I just wish I didn’t have to.

- I don’t know if anyone even reads my incoherent ramblings anymore.

- I’m not ready to turn 21 in a week… it’s not enough time. Things are going by so fast, but so slow… I wish I could fast forward to real adulthood so I knew what would come of me, and what to expect, but I’m terrified of being a bona fide adult with real problems, unlike these I speak of here.

- I would really love some ice cream… Sigh.

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Jul 28
2010

I must have. I must have been out to lunch when this little tidbit was shared with Calgarians. Apparently though, if you have a BMW, you can be a complete asshole on the road.

I’m not sure what it is, but whenever I’m on the major road in Calgary (the Deerfoot,) I consistently see BMW drivers cutting people off, merging in really suddenly without even a cursory flick of the hand in thanks, nothing. It’s as though because they have pricey cars, it completely entitles them to do whatever the hell they want. Even if they are ugly, old beat-up B-mers, they are kinds of the asphalt.

So, the person has some super-charged, epic BMW with ridiculously expensive rims, and a over-tinted tint on every one of the windows, naturally us other lowly cars on the road should part like the friggen’ red sea and let them through, as though they are on a runway, merely allowing us peons the pleasure of seeing its taillights (because of course, they are going so fast that we are basically searching through dust just to see those).

M says that I may have a bias against BMW drivers because of a certain someone I know who does… but he drove the same way as the rest of them. It’s so damn aggravating. I hate seeing them on the road, especially in rush hour when I’m tired and not overly-happy to be fighting through the sharks in the morning and afternoon.

Geez. This was a pretty sarcastic post, usually I try to tone that down a little. ;)

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Jul 24
2010

Okay, so pretty much the entire world knows that Lindsay Lohan is in jail for probation violation (I love that that rhymes, it’s like something out of that “School House Rock” show), from her 2007 arrest for being in possesion of cocaine and driving under the influence. She was briefly in jail back in the day (and when I say briefly, it was literally brief. A total of 84 minutes, the poor girl.) She missed her mandatory alcohol classes, and the judge didn’t feel that Lindsay was taking her probation seriously.

For once, a judge actually went “hard” on a celebrity and actually enforced the law, sentancing her to ninety days in jail, then ninety days in a rehab facility. Lohan is expected to only be jailed for about 23 days, but that counts for something. At least it will give her a break from her rambling Tweets and rampant partying for a few weeks. She can give her liver a much-needed rest.

I’m glad that she was actually made to go to jail, because even if it doesn’t change a damn thing about her attitude or outlook on life, even if she doesn’t take one full minute to sit down and contemplate why she is where she is, and where her life is headed if she doesn’t smarten the hell up soon, she has finally been forced to suffer (shortened) consequences for her actions.

I’m irritated though, because I read a few different gossip blogs and they’re all squaking about how much they care for Lindsay and want her to get better. I call bull shit. First of all, this random celebrity does not know these bloggers, she doesn’t give a damn about them (other than perhaps appreciating any good press thrown her way,) and these bloggers know nothing about who she really is, how she acts, how she treats people in day to day life… If the bloggers said that they felt sympathy for her as a person, and had compassion for her because she is a human like the rest of us, fine. But for people who don’t know her to say that they don’t want her to “die” and want her to get “better,” why? I’m pretty sure that most larger blogs pull in at least a decent amount of money from readers, and if the only posts on there are about trivial, boring things like Lindsay getting her hair done a different shade, people will be bound to stop reading because they DON’T CARE about that stuff. People want to see celebrities fall from their pedestals, prove that they are mere mortals just like the rest of us, so we can feel slightly better about our own mundane, fame-free lives. The reason that newspapers print horror stories and the news has gory images is because it keeps people watching, it sells papers, it has people interested. Honestly, would you read a magazine filled with fluff about kittens and rainbows? No. Reality is cruel, horrible things happen, and I think most people want to be informed of these things.

So sure, I’ll admit that I don’t want Lindsay to die, but not for the same reason that these other bloggers are crying about. I feel for her because she is a person with an obvious addiction seen by the world, and really don’t wish death upon anyone, but it’s not like her death would have any effect on me or my life, or your life, or the life of that blogger. Maybe I sound callous, but so be it. Celebrities are such a conundrum, because on one hand, they don’t seem quite real, like they’re untouchable, intangible holograms that we can look at but don’t really exist on any plane of our understanding, but on the other hand, they are in fact still real people, with real feelings and thoughts and personalities and lives. A celebrity who dies (or goes to jail, or gives birth,) is just better fodder for news than any “normal” person is, so people form unrealistic attachments to these pictures and movies. It’s weird.

I care deeply about my friends and family, and would be truly devastated if I ever lost one of them, because it would have a true, real impact on my life. But let’s face it. If Lindsay Lohan or Brad Pitt or George Foreman died, we might feel a twinge of sadness for the loss of life, but then our lives would keep on going, pretty much completely undistrupted.

When Michael Jackson died, people were crying in the streets and holding massive memorials and some even formed cults to commit suicide to join him (I can’t remember where I read that, but it was out there.) Come on. Sure, he entertained millions of people for years, but his death has no direct relevance to their lives at all. If Dallas Green died, I would be sad over the loss of a human life (regardless of his celebrity status,) I would mourn for the world’s loss of a wonderful singer and writer, but I’m not going to pretend that his death would have any real effect on me, unlike people who actually knew him and loved him in “real life.”

I just don’t undestand people’s attachments to celebrities, I guess. We see them on our televisions, or listen to them on our radios, and suddenly people think that they know them and deserve to feel every bit of the celebrities life like a close and personal friend. No. You don’t know them, you know their television persona, you know what happens in the news, but you truthfully do not know them as a person in your life. The majority of them promote a fallacy that just isn’t true to reality.

Am I making sense? I know I’m rambling. I just don’t understand human nature sometimes. People care more for celebrities than they do for their neighbours or extended-family members.

Alright, now on to the Mel Gibson mayhem going on. Obviously, the horrible things that he was recorded saying to his girlfriend were atrocious, and no one deserves to be verbally abused like that. And of course, he does have a history with saying ridiculous things (calling a police officer “Sugar-tits,” for one thing,) and racist slurs, so things really aren’t looking too good for him at the moment. People went nuts over Tom Cruise jumping up and down on Oprah’s couch, professing his love for Katie Holmes (which I thought was eccentrically sweet, in an odd way,) and his furor over Scientology and bitching about Brooke Shields’ use of a psychologist to help with her post-partum depression, and his star-status has kind of taken a hit ever since. Mel Gibson (so far) just seems to be the crazy, drunken mess on the sidewalk downtown spewing hatred and calling for repentance to save our souls from eternal hell-fires, but I think things are slowly getting to the point where people are concerned about his obvious drinking problem that has resurfaced. However, I think that people seem to be turning a blind eye to his girlfriend, and how conniving she was to record him like that, and leak it to the media in what some people are starting to think was an extortion attempt. This lady seems a little nuts too, so I think that we should be wary of her motives throughout all of this. If you have listened to the audio recordings, you can see that she is baiting him, just hoping that he says something she can use against him in court to get more money.

Sometimes, I think the world would be nice if we forgot about celebrities for a bit, and stopped paying so much damned attention to every minute detail of their lives.

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Jul 17
2010

I’m here! Sorry about the gap in posting, things have been crazy. I have a backlog of emails to reply to, and phone calls, it’s chaos at the moment!

I drove out to Arrowwood on Tuesday night after work and spent Wednesday with Badger before heading back to the city. As always, it was a nice getaway from things here. And right behind his house is a huge field of canola, so it’s like looking at an ocean of such a vibrant yellow… it makes me pause and stare every time I’m outside there because it just puts me in awe. It’s gorgeous and so strange to see.

When I got back into the city, I stopped at a strip mall to do some shopping for M’s birthday present. I parked in the lot, grabbed my phone and started replying to the bunch I got on the drive back in (I can’t text and drive) so my mind was instantly consumed. I went on my merry way throughout the various stores, picking out stickers and finding the perfect day-planner. (She wanted a day-planner to help her keep everything together in one place to stay organized, so I found her a gorgeous academic one, then decorated it with stickers and wrote random facts, jokes and FML submissions on random days, to give her something to look forward to.) When I got back to my car, I started shaking my purse, listening for the usual jangle of keys, but alas, there was no tinkling sound emanating from my purse. I started furiously digging through it, taking out things and putting them on the hood of my car, desperately searching for them. No luck. I looked on my car seat, in the middle console, on the floor, but I couldn’t see them anywhere. Then the clouds shifted just a bit, and there was a dazzling shine coming off of them, sitting happily in my ignition.

I panicked. What the hell was I going to do? I had no way to get into my car, my laptop and a bunch of clothes and stuff were in there as well as my GPS and Ipod. What if someone broke the window and stole it while I walked around? I called my mom and asked what I should do, but she didn’t really know. I basically had two options. Wait for her to get off of work in a few hours, drive home and try to find my spare key before coming back and helping me in, or calling a tow truck. I chose to wait, since I really don’t have the money to toss around on tow trucks. My uncle was conveniently at the same place I was and offered to let me stay at his house until my mom was done, but I was too stressed and wanted to remain close to my car in case anyone tried to break in. He did his best to reassure me that no one would steal my car, but it’s a big city, of course it could happen.

She called me hours later to tell me that I must not have given her the key, because she couldn’t find it. I was freaking out, because I can specifically remember when I gave it to her. I didn’t handle it as well as I could have I’m sure, but I was stressed to the max. Luckily, she did end up finding the key and rescuing me. What a disaster. I sure learned my lesson though, now I always ALWAYS double-check my keys are put in my purse before I exit the vehicle. The problem was that I am so diligent about locking the doors and closing the windows tight so no one breaks in, when I locked myself out there was absolutely no cheat way to get in (the ol’ hanger through a cracked window and whatnot). Fun times.

Thursday, I went to get summer tires put on my car so I could finally stop driving on my new winter tires (that came with the car.) I went to a dive-y little restaurant to wait out the tire exchange, so I could read and write while I waited. After perusing the menu and not really finding anything that appealed to me or that I could eat, I asked for the penne with marinara sauce instead of the alfredo sauce. The waitress was like “No, I don’t think we can do that.” I was perplexed. “You can’t put a tomato sauce on my pasta instead of the cream sauce? I’m vegan and don’t eat cream or meat.” She said she would ask the kitchen for me, and I uneasily left her to do that, trusting that someone with common sense would realize that switching the sauce is not a difficult process unless it was all pre-made and frozen or something, which it shouldn’t have been. Twenty minutes later she comes back and says “It’s going to be a while, we need to defrost the meat sauce.” Holding back a sigh of disdain, I calmly said “As I said, I don’t eat meat or cream, that’s why I asked for the marinara sauce.” Shaking her head, she replied “We only have meat sauce.” *Headdesk*
“You don’t have a plain tomato sauce for your pasta?” Again, she went back to the kitchen and asked. How hard was my request? Why couldn’t I have just a plate of pasta with tomato sauce on it? What am I missing here? Half an hour later, they brought me a disgusting plate of food. Oh, how I regret choosing that place to sit in and eat at. Never again.

M and I then got together to hit up the Stampede, which was so much fun. We started with one of the craziest rides in the park, and in front of us was this family from Quebec that was the least classy mix of people I have encountered in a very long time. The daughter of the group was wearing short-shorts and a plunging v-neck top that was cropped, was smoking up a storm and punching her idiot little brother in between drags. The …mom? Aunt? was with her clearly newer boyfriend, making out with him and teasing him and her leather-brown skin was covered in trashy, terribly-done tattoos. They were being loud and raucous and rude and both M and I were just… embarrassed for them. It’s hard to describe the bunch, but it was painful to be stuck behind them in a very long line for so long. M and I had wonderful luck on the rides though, and always managed to get to the front seats of whatever one we happened to be on. I also watched horses doing cow cutting for the first time ever, and it was remarkable. The way those cutting horses move, with so much agility and speed, was spellbinding to watch. They looked like border collies with sheep; they were so swift and easy to maneuver… I love those kind of sports, that actually have a purpose other than being the fastest or staying on a bucking bull’s back for a full eight seconds. These horses were so well trained, worked so hard and looked like absolute naturals in there. It was a fantastic experience.

My stupid moment of the day? I won thirty percent off of a flight to anywhere Westjet flies, which is amazing. Not so amazing is the fact that I gave them the wrong email address, so my little coupon is lost somewhere in the abyss of the internet. I called Westjet when I got home (the kiosk had closed by the time I really started freaking out, worrying I gave my wrong email address) and they told me to email someone, though they never told me how long to expect to wait for a response. So I proceeded to call them the next morning and reiterate what was happening, hoping against all hope they could find my name somewhere on the list of people that won… I have to wait about a week to hear back. Now that it has been a few days, the major anxiety over it has waned, because as M put it, I lost something I never really had. It would be fantastic to have it, but if I end up not being able to get the discount, I just won’t be booking another trip any time soon, no harm no foul I suppose. I really felt so stupid though. What a ridiculous issue to have. If it had been a normal keyboard I would have been fine, but I didn’t double-check the spelling on the stupid touchpad. Bah!

M and I went on the skyride, which is a mutual favourite of ours. It’s a simple little seat attached to a wire that slowly goes in a straight line over the whole Stampede grounds (kind of like a gondola), providing a lovely respite from the crowds. As we were on our leisurely ride, a compartment going in the opposite direction held two young boys, no older than ten or eleven, and they got my attention and one hollered “I love what you’re wearing!” I was taken aback, so I just smiled and said thanks, until a little further up we both burst into laughter. It was so random! Usually younger boys like that aren’t really noticing girls my age… are they? I don’t think so… unless it’s the whole baby-sitter crush thing that sometimes happens… anyway, it was amusing. Then two or three compartments behind those boys, another cart holding two young men (probably eighteen or nineteen) went by, and one of them said something about how I looked and asked for my number. You know, I have never, EVER been asked for my number before. Guys have asked for like, my email address (for MSN, the phone of the new millennium!) or my Facebook or whatever, but never for the oldschool method phone number. Again at a loss for words, I merely mumbled a thanks and smiled as the ride carried me away. M and I looked at eachother and were like… “What is going on!?” Getting hit on twice in the span of forty seconds was definitely a nice feeling, but it was very strange at the same time. I got a lot of coy looks and smiles and some waves (and one girl telling me it was her birthday), and M asked what it was that made people speak so openly to me, and I had no idea. I guess I look approachable? (This must be so, because I went to the Stampede again last night and had literally five or six people ask me who was playing on the Coke Stage, to the point where the woman standing next to me actually said something about it, then later said “Since you seem to know everything about what’s going on with the concert, are they finished now?” Of course, there was the overly-contrived encore to come, so I told her there were a few more songs to come.)

After this tomfoolery, M and I met up with her sister and two of her sisters friends, a boy and a girl, making for one lucky man with four blondes all to himself! We were all sitting at a table talking while I had my first candy apple, which was massively disappointing. And MESSY. You should have seen my face after I finished with it; I looked like a sticky four year old, red dye all over my face and teeth. It was totally unattractive. Haha. We went outside to peruse the midway, when Pat (the guy) and I decided to go on the reverse-bungee ride together because M wimped out (I’m calling you out on that, your damn candy apples were a fourth of the cost!). We stood in the line and had a fantastic conversation about travelling, school, careers, relationships, and our plans for the future, all in the span of half an hour while we stood waiting for our turn. I was trying to keep his mind off the ride, because he was freaking out and was near tears due to his huge fear of heights. I didn’t want him to chicken out so I had to go alone! I told him that he would regret not doing it, and when we finally got to be flung into the air, he was exhilarated (as was I) and was so glad that he did it. It was worth the forty dollars, but I don’t think I would do it again just because of how short the ride is. The Skyscraper I went on last year lasted way longer, and is better bang for my buck. Here is a picture of what we went on. You get shot up into the air (it takes 1.8 seconds from the ground to the top height of the ride, then bounce up and down a few times before returning to solid ground.

That was all on Thursday night. Last night (Friday) I went with my friend O to see One Republic, which was a really enjoyable show. I was pretty impressed that they were on the lineup to play the Coke Stage, because they are a pretty big band now and the star-power over the past few years has been on the decline. I also saw Marianas Trench on Monday night, which was nice. I love how polite the Canadian bands are in contrast to American ones, there really is a significant difference in their demeanor and attitude towards the fans and crowds. You can’t beat our Canadian boys! (Alexisonfire (especially Dallas Green,) Our Lady Peace, Matthew Good, Marianas Trench… the list of awesome Canadian bands keeps getting bigger and bigger).

I also thought I should mention that for the first time in for as long as I can remember, and can search through Google, there was an accident on one of the amusement rides at the Stampede last night. The compartment became detached from the arm of the ride and threw riders against the concrete ground. No one died, but at least six people were seriously injured (nothing life-threatening.) This has been a terrible year for the Stampede with six horses dead in five days and now a ride mishap. Alberta as a whole is not doing well this month. I don’t know if any of you Americans or otherwise have heard, but there is some special-interest group in the US bashing the shit out of Alberta and saying that our oil sands (out East they are called tar sands) are just as bad as the BP spill in the gulf, and are spreading propaganda through a few cities in the States and are bringing their campaign to the UK soon as well. They are basically telling people to not visit Alberta because we are a dirty province ruining the environment and killing things. The truth is that 1,600 ducks did die in the tailing ponds from the oil sands, and Syncrude was found guilty in their deaths. The company could face a maximum penalty of $500,000 under the provincial law and $300,000 under the federal law, and I hope that they are fined to the full extent because of the damage they caused and the death toll. Syncrude has been very publically flogged because of this, and they are bound to be more diligent in taking care of things in the proper way, which is fantastic. However, for an American company to start slinging mud at our province, trying to tell the world how horrible it is here, they should take a look in their own backyards. The BP spill was under control as of what, yesterday? And there are still questions about the effectiveness of that, and a massive, massive economical and ecological fallout from that, affecting far more than 1,600 ducks. So forgive me (and the rest of Alberta) for being pretty upset over the ridiculous parallels this group is trying to make. Once everything is perfect down there in the US, THEN you can start casting your stones. Until then, let us deal with our problems without you trying to ruin our tourism here. In case you were wondering what the purpose of this advertising was, the group wants the entire world to stop using fossil fuels. Well, when that group lives in caves for a while and realize how ridiculous it is to say that they want the world to instantly stop using these fuels, I hope they realize how foolish they look. Scientists are working on alternative energy and fuel sources. However, because these are not viable yet and not implemented, how about we continue to grow and learn and make the best of the situation? If your group is so dead-set against fossil fuels and the way we do things, how about making a move to get America to stop buying oil from us. Oh ya, the rest of the world isn’t a huge fan of you, so good luck with finding alternatives to our product.

Alright, rant over.

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Jul 13
2010

Just in case any of you thought I was being dramatic in my post about the rodeos, I just thought I would mention that since last Friday, three horses have died. One had a fatal heart attack when doing a practice run for the chuck wagons, another had a heart attack in a herding exercise (and ended up landing on a female rider, who now has a broken shoulder and a traumatic head injury,) and the horse Sinder Mountain had to be euthanized after breaking his back during a novice saddle bronc run. And a province over in BC, an eighteen year old boy died after being bucked off of a bull then trampled on during a rodeo event.

Entertaining, right?

Update: A fourth horse died last night, during (surprise surprise) the Chuck Wagon races. The Stampede goes on until Sunday. I wonder how many more animals will die in vain.

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Jun 17
2010

I am a fan of men without facial hair. I like things to be kept trim, smooth and clean, and am a big believer in men shaving often. Little crinkly hairs are no fun at all. I want to see that face, baby, don’t hide it!

Anyway, I had a patient come in today and he had the oddest thing going on with the hair on his chin… it was really thin and shaped kind of like an upside down T, with a thin line up from his chin to his lip, with a softly curved strip on either side. You know what it looked like? A nicely shaped vagina, right there on his face. I couldn’t stop staring. Men. STOP IT. SHAVE THOSE BEASTS! You should not have facial hair reminding people of labia majora every time they look at you. It isn’t pleasant.

I don’t know why men insist on being all scruffy (other than laziness,) or why they persist with having absolutely ridiculous-looking things like soul-patches or Fu-Manchu mustaches or mutton chops or any of those things. I admit that some men do look decent with a goatee, but it’s rare. But those chin straps some men have going on, or the little tiny puff of hair directly below the lip or any of those stupid choices just make you look like you’re trying too hard, but failing at whatever it is that you are aiming for. You know back in the 90′s when men would shave out intricate little patterns in their hair? Remember how retarded that was? Same thing here, only in reverse.

Please, let your face do the talking. I know for some of you, the feeling is that you are framing your face and presenting it like a picture. Sorry, but your face isn’t in need of a frame. If you are attractive, there is no need to “frame” anything, and if you aren’t the best looking guy in the bunch, framing is the last thing you want.

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Jun 8
2010

Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to peruse the “Dogs for sale” section of Kijiji, which was a mistake. I always close the browser after I do in a terrible mood, my fingers itching to send scathing emails to so many of the postings that I see.

I keep seeing posts about dogs that people are selling because they are moving into a new apartment that doesn’t allow dogs. Why would you look for a house that doesn’t allow pets, if you already have a dog? So many dogs have been with these people for years. Why are pets so disposable to people? I am still so torn up inside over having to surrender Sadie back to the adoption agency because of the condo board deciding they didn’t want a big scary GREYHOUND in the building, but boxers and pit bulls and weimaraners were fine. We had her for four months and she had taken over such a huge piece of my heart that it nearly destroyed me to have to give her back, even after such a short period of time. HOW can these people give up a member of their family so easily? If I have a dog, rest assured I am going to search high and low for a place I like that will allow pets, and if it doesn’t, I am not interested. I just find these people so heartless… giving up their pets because they are too damn lazy to search for a house that the whole family can move to.

The same feelings go for people who say that they can “no longer give their dog the attention the dog deserves.” Why get a dog in the first place? I guess I can understand if a family suddenly goes through a drastic life change and things just aren’t working, because in those cases it is usually best for the dog to go elsewhere, but so many people are so stupid and get a dog on a whim, without realising just how much work and money and time goes in to raising them. Once they figure out they can’t be irresponsible if they don’t want a very unhappy dog, or a destroyed house, the dog gets the boot instead of the people having an attitude adjustment.

Then there are the people who are offering their mutts for “stud services.” There are enough unwanted puppies in Calgary (and everywhere else) that are desperate for homes. I am not a breed-purist, and am just fine rescuing a cross-bred dog, but there are many people who want pure-breds only. So why are you offering your random assortment of breeds-dog to stud out? Do they actually expect people to PAY them to use their mutt to breed more mutts? Even people who are retarded enough to want those “designer” breeds (if you are in the mood for a rant, read my past posts about this ridiculous phenomenon) want their precious “bugs” and “puggles” and “goldendoodles,” which are a mixing of two pure-breeds, not your Heinz-57. This is so frustrating.

I hate that there are so many people out there with dogs that they don’t deserve, who mistreat them by negligence or by actually doing them harm, who are putting more unwanted puppies out in the world to try to profit from them, and there are people who really want to have a dog and would love the dog unconditionally and do everything to make their pet happy, and they don’t have one for one reason or another, because they want to do what is best for said dog, even if it is not to have one.

I hate people with no common sense, especially when it comes to animals.

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