Swine flu: Conspiracy theory?

I'm not really worried about the swine flu, which is weird, because I keep thinking I'm going to get a blood clot to my brain and have an aneurism and die on the spot, so it's not as though I'm not irrational or think I'm invincible. Maybe it's that when SARS hit, I really did not change my habits at all; I took the subway, went to class, went to work, went to grimy bars and kissed lots of boys. On the lips.

Ooh. How naughty.

Did Purell even exist back then? I don't think so. I don't remember using it. And I survived.

Side note: Do you know what Purell's slogan is? I'll tell you.

"Imagine a Touchable World."

Awesome. Sounds like the name of a George Michael song.

At my friend's work downtown, the company sent out a statement saying you can't have more than five people in a meeting at once. Which means that that they had to conference call people in another board room, just to have a regular meeting. It's kind of ridiculous, but at the same time, it's kind of scary.

To keep myself sane, I tell myself piggy stories. Like when I was in grade school I had a teacher who wore pig clothes, pig accessories, and carried pig accoutrements (like her lunch bag, umbrella, etc). It's a weird sight on its own, but see a woman in all pink piggy items every day in a school that is otherwise a mass of green plaid and it's even stranger. A lot of kids made fun of her. I'd like to say I didn't, but I'd by lying. Come on, pig paraphernalia? You'd have made fun too. That's what twelve-year-olds do. Then one day she told us that the reason she was so obsessed with pigs was because her heart stopped working and she got a pig valve put into her body. And so, a pig saved her life.

I felt like the biggest jerk ever for making fun.

I guess it's not that weird to wear pig clothes when you compare it to having part of a pig inside of your body. I wonder how she feels about pigs right now.

When I played baseball, one of the girls on my team had a pig as a pet. She'd bring him to all the games. He was black and had the shiniest coat ever and walked on a leash.

His name was Pigmalion.

No it wasn't. But that would be an awesome name for a pig, no?

My sister was set to go to Cabo last weekend. I emailed her in a panic to ask her if she was still going to go. She wrote back immediately to say that she was already in Mexico and it was a ghost town at the resort which meant she was living like royalty. (Royalty that's about to get piggy flu, I couldn't help but thinking). She said people were running for their lives to catch the last planes out of Mexico and that they were crazy, that it's the flu not a plague. She finished her email by telling me she thought it was a conspiracy by the US government to take our minds of the recession.

If that's true, I think it's working, though does that mean the people who have died are actors and are laughing. Ha ha ha, those crazy North Americans. They think we died from flu from a pig.

They made a movie about this sort of thought process in the 90s. It was called Wag the Dog, remember?

The City in Review

So, since I'm obsessed with all things The City, I've been emailing my friend Jay-Rock in NYC about the show with questions, as I mentioned in last week's post, such as: 

"Did I eat at Stanton Social?" 

To which he somehow remembered that yes, I'd eaten there two years ago on a press junket. But then I had so many more pressing questions and so did my friends, so I was madly emailing him and then emailing my friends to report back. So, then I thought, why keep all the secrets to The City to myself? So every Monday in anticipation of the show, I'm going to give you, my loyal blog-readers, the rundown. Jay-Rock's answers in purple.

My first obsession, of course, was Whitney's apartment. Now, I have friends and relatives who live in New York and I've seen their apartments. For the record, an apartment like the one Monica & Rachel had on Friends does not even exist in the city. Because if it was that big it would be called a penthouse and wouldn't be painted purple. Anyway, most people have an apartment the size of Whitney's head. Originally Jay-Rock said that the apartment would be about $2,500-3,500 US. Last week, he took that back:

Whitney's apartment is probably closer to $4500. The camera angles hide just how big it is, but it's a high corner apartment with lots of windows in a new building. It ain't cheap.

Is Gramercy one of the more expensive places to live in the city?

Gramercy is pricing, but no more than other areas. Probably a bit less than the West Village or definitely less than places in the east or west sides near central park. It's on par with Tribeca. Didn't see enough of Erin's place to pass judgment, but probably similar. Looked like there was an outside shot of the building, which was a new luxury building.

Let's talk restaurants, bars and diners:

a) Caffe Falai -- where Whitney and Erin meet for breakfast before work. Is it totally reasonable that she went here before work -- on her way from Gramercy to the Meat Packing District? 

Never been but walked by. Reasonably chic, but not a "hot spot". But enough style and comparatively low key that it is a makes for a good place for the Whitney's of the world to go. Location is definitely not on the way from Gramercy to Meat Packing, but not so far out of the way either. In Gramercy go straight down 3rd, just south of Houston will get you to Falai. Then it's straight west to the river and north to work.

b) The Diner (where Whitney and the accounting guy go for lunch). What's the scoop?

Never been, never heard good things about it. Fancy comfort food for the Meat Packing crowd. Meaning it's a place to avoid. For context, most holier-than though Manhattanites (meaning anyone who wants to project an air of cool indifference above it all while complaining how the city is not what it used to be) would now view the Meat Packing District with some disdain. It was edgy and interesting 10-15 years ago. But on Fri and Sat nights it's packed with skanky-looking bridge and tunnel crowd. Better on weeknights, but then it's full of model/scene people. A lot of the restaurants in the area are big, over-the-top places where it's as much about the scene and vibe as the food. Keep all this in mind when assessing anything on the show set in the MPD.

Do you have burning questions about the show you want to know the answers to? Email me and I'll find out the answers by next week!

Surprises you might find when you clean...

I was cleaning my craft closet and I came across a faded keepsake box that inside, contained a myriad of keepsakes, including (shame!) an unfinished Bachelorette Party album for one of my best friends. When I'd thrown her the party, I'd put out a guest book, where each of her friends could use a page to write messages to her. Then, I'd develop the pix from the evening's shenanigans and put them on the appropriate page. Apparently, I never got around to that part and I completely, totally forgot about the entire plan. It's now two computers and two cameras later and I have no idea where those pictures may be--if I was still using a regular camera at the time (which I'm sure I was), wouldn't I have developed that roll of film? I don't have any random rolls of film laying around. So then, where are the photos? I have no idea. And given that my friend has now been married for almost five years and her second child is three months old today, it's not likely I'm going to find them.

I thought about sending her the scrapbook anyway, without the pictures, but perhaps that would just highlight what a horrible bridesmaid I am.

I'm undecided, so I just put the album back where I found it. I wonder how many years will pass before I look in that box again and wonder what to do?

Who are Susan and Tony?

Every year my stepmom and dad go to a Halloween party at their friends' house. This year, my stepmom emailed to say they were going as Susan and Tony.


Who? I thought. I know they're Sopranos fans, so I thought maybe Susan was Tony's wife? Clearly, I stopped watching Sopranos in Season 2 and have forgotten all the characters' names.

Of course, Susan and Tony could be Survivor players. The odds that there's a Tony. There was definitely a Susan or two. Remember Trucker Sue? My parents would know if here was also a Tony. They are self-professed "#1 Survivor fans!" They haven't missed a season or an episode. They can tell anyone the rules of any game.



Oh sure, I like to tease them about this. I mean, come on. Survivor? It's like Season 17 or something. It's time to move on. Of course, tell that to them. They're still watching ER. Which means, Susan and Tony could be on ER. I know there was a Doctor Susan, who was on the show, left the show and came back to the show...

Still, it was then that I realized I may make fun, but maybe, I am not cool.

My parents are cooler than me.

I couldn't even bring myself to ask who Susan and Tony were, because clearly, if this couple needs NO last name introduction, they are pop-culture-fabulous and I should know who they are.

I am so lame.

"Sounds great!" I emailed back to my stepmom in response to the costume idea. Then, waited, for days, until they finally figured out how to upload pictures of themselves in costume for me to see.

And then, my dad emailed. Only, instead of the usual pics from his slightly outdated camera, which he has to send one picture at a time because his laptop is so ancient it can't handle anymore than that, I got an email with the subject line:

Check out my great iPhotos!

Not only is my father now in possession of a super sleek MacBook, but also, an iPhone, with which he took the pictures.

He was dressed in a grey suit. My stepmom had a red slinky dress and long black wig on.

I still had no idea who they were, though they looked fantastic!

Thankfully, his email said: Susan and Tony from Dancing with the Stars.

So then I went to hunt for this picture on the information superhighway, and saw all of the costumes Susan wore, and read her daily blog of the schedule and the dances, and was suddenly so sad I had missed this season so far and had absolutely no idea she was even on DWTS.

I then returned to my rock of lame, where I like to hide.

The psychic.

On the weekend, I went to a psychic for the first time. 

She was SO real. Her cat had RED eyes. I'm not even kidding. And it was a Siamese cat and aren't they supposed to have BLUE eyes? 

My two friends and I were sitting at the table together during the readings, so the psychic said that the spirits might get confused and she might say things about one of the other two while reading one of us. Which actually happened. Like when she told me I'd be going on a ski vacation soon (TRUE! And I haven't been on a ski vacation in 10 years, so how could she have guessed that?) but that it would be in Colorado with family (not true - we're going to Quebec), but my friend's family is all in Colorado. 

Then, she said one of our friends was having a baby with the EXACT name of the baby that my other friend is naming the baby that is inside her AT THIS VERY MINUTE, waiting to be born.

She told me I would move into another unit in my building that I've had my eye on for a long time and that it has a bigger terrace and I will love living there. This is EXACTLY what happened five years ago to me, after the Hubs proposed. We moved up seven floors in our building to a suite we'd had our eye on forever. 

She also told me that I've been teaching a class recently. I mean, how could she know that?!

There were some things that I'm not sure are going to come true, though. Like the baby named Mark I'm going to have in 2 years. Oh really? But she said I would have this baby at the same time as someone in my family, and then she told me the name of that person, which is the name of my stepsister! The same stepsister who is getting married this year, so in all likelihood of the way things work in life (I mean, other than me), she WOULD be having a baby in two years. 

Then she also told me the name of a sick relative, which was true. And sad. 

But, she also said I am angry. Am I angry? I don't feel angry! Maybe I'm suppressing it! 

What the psychic did not tell me was that I would lose my mitten this week. If I'd known I was going to lose my mitten, I would've been more careful when taking them off. If you see my mitten, can you let me know? I'm sure he's scared without his twin. 

Maybe I'm supposed to be angry about my lost mitten? But I'm not, I'm just sad. I liked my mitten.

I have now sent 3 text messages.

I have a new phone. It's pink. Really, that says it all. It couldn't be more perfect.

Anyone who has ever tried to call me knows that my old phone did not ring. Still, I loved this phone. It was the LG Chocolate and when it came out years ago I hinted and hinted until the Hubs bought it for me for Christmas. I loved it so much, but right from the start there were problems.

It wouldn't ring when people called. Days later I'd go to use it and I'd get a random notification that I had a missed call. Or, I'd be walking with phone in hand and get a beep that I had a new voicemail even though again, it never rang. On the few times it did ring and I actually heard it, because the ring was so quiet you basically had to be in a library or church to hear it, and I actually picked it up and tried to talk, my (apparently) pointy cheek or hair would set off the touch screen and hang up on the person. When I tried to dial in to check my messages, the keys would stick and inevitably the system would tell me I was entering the wrong password and it would hang up on me.

Needless to say, I haven't talked on my cellphone very much in the last 2 years. I'm not sure why I waited this long to upgrade. I guess it's like a favourite sweater. Even if it's pilly and out of sorts you still wear it because you love it. That's what I did. Until today when I found the shiny pink phone!

And the best part? It rings! So loud that there's a warning telling me not to put the phone near my head while it's ringing because I may experience hearing loss. I bet I could wear earplugs and still hear it ring. I could definitely wear the PINK headphones that come with it. But the even better part? When it DOES ring, all the buttons light up in PINK!

Also, I can send 2,500 text messages a month. TWENTY-FIVE HUNDRED! This is crazy, isn't it? Or is it just me? Is this how many texts teens are sending nowadays? Would my 15-year-old cousin look at this plan and say, "Hmmm.... 2500. That seems okaaaaayyyyy...., but I'll probably need to monitor how many texts I'm sending around the last week of the month just to be sure I don't go over the limit."?

Also, I can send 1,000 picture texts. I don't even know what this means. Like, if I wanted to take a picture and send it as a text message? Anyway, whatever it is, I can send 1,000 of them.

So far I have sent 3 text messages.

Text Messages Left To Date (TMLTD): 2,497
Picture Messages Left To Date (PMLTD): 1,000

P.S. An update: There is a Mr. Baz Halloween costume glitch. The item I need is nowhere to be found in Toronto except I did find it hanging on a wall in a restaurant but I don't think the owners would appreciate if I stole the item and ran home with it because then I would end up in jail and do they have sewing machines in jail?? I doubt it, so THEN how would I make the costume in time? So I didn't steal the item. Then today I had a brainwave to buy the item I need to make the item I need for Mr. Baz's costume off eBay. Except, it was going to cost $24 to ship the $6 item and wasn't guaranteed by Halloween. My last resort is New York. I'm headed there Thursday. In one of the biggest cities in the world, surely I can find what I'm looking for?

Battle of the Ryans

Is it just me or does anyone else find Ryan Gosling and Ryan Reynolds confusing? I mean, I know they don't look the same, but I cannot keep them straight. I've tried. Half Nelson, Definitely, Maybe, Lars and the Real Girl, Harold & Kumar... but it's all just a mess in my head. No idea which played which, except that I know Gosling was in The Notebook because he and Rachel McAdams were/are/were/are dating. Even when I look at pictures, I'm still totally confused...

Gosling:

Reynolds:

Gosling:

Reynolds: 

Even now that one of them (Reynolds maybe?) has married ScarJo, I'm still confused. Was he the one that was dating Alanis Morrisette? But not the one that's on again/off again with Rachel McAdams? Which was the guy in Dick with KeKe Dunst? And then, I came up with a formula: 

Gosling: Shirt.

Reynolds: No Shirt.

It works, right? I knew Finite Math would come in handy one day. Then I found this  article over at Chatelaine. Which may be a little more scientific. 

TV time travel and who buys CDs anymore?

Tonight I watched the series premiere of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Yes, it started last year. I'm behind. Consider it time travel, which is actually quite appropriate for this series. Anyway, there was a Season 1 marathon on Space to catch you up before Season 2 started (so clearly I CAN'T be the only one who missed it the first time around, and anyway, it's a good way not to get addicted to a show that's going to get cancelled after one season, no?). So anyway, we set the PVR to tape all the episodes that aired this weekend and now have like fourteen billion episodes (because of course, if you set your PVR to tape them all, you get like 7 of the same episode). So anyway, maybe everyone already discussed this last year at this time, but is it me or does Sarah Connor (Lena Headey) ...

look a little like Naomi Watts?

And, does Cameron (Summer Glau)...

Look a little like Autumn Reeser?

In other time travel news, I read this article today. Nevermind what the most controversial album covers ARE, my question is this: How does anyone know what the covers are? Does anybody even buy CDs anymore? And if you think NO, like I do, then how on earth does anyone know what the cover of a CD looks like? Oh sure, I know, it's on your iPod when you download the song, but do you ever actually scroll to look at the cover? Am I supposed to be? Am I being a bad fan because I don't?

Okay, on closer perusal of the list, it appears that most if not all of the album covers are from the days BEFORE iTunes. When people bought CDs, tapes and even albums. Is this list even accurate then? Because I bet there's got to be way more controversial covers now, only we don't know it.

Or maybe everyone else does, but I'm just totally out of it? (Which wouldn't be surprising. I mean, I AM watching new shows a year late).

Red rum, red rum

I am writing this post in fear for my life.

It all started on Saturday when it was so freezing outside that Biff suggested we go to see a movie. The only one playing at the time was The Mist. I thought it was going to be some sappy girly movie. Like the Notebook, set in some seaside town with mist that makes everything romantic. Turns out it WAS set in some seaside town, only the MIST had some crazy monsters in it. And there was this scene where the people had to kill the monster and the only way to do it was with this fire axe...

Except they only hacked off a small bit of the monster's tentacle, which made him super mad and he came back, again and again.

And all I could keep thinking was, it's okay, it's just a movie, it's not going to happen to me. After all, I've never before in my life seen such a huge-ass fire axe in the city. They don't exist. They only exist in small seaside towns where you'd actually NEED such an enormous axe to defend yourself against monsters in the MIST. As long as I never go anywhere where there are these huge-ass axes there will be no monsters in the mist.

So I spent the rest of the weekend trying to NOT think about the movie and how there are no monsters in the mist and then, yesterday, I arrived at a hotel. In the MIDDLE of the WOODS in the MIDDLE of Quebec where everyone speaks French and there are no shops and really, no people for miles. It seemed very peaceful and lovely until...

I got to my room. And saw this...

...outside my door. It's on the wall outside my room, which is at the end of the hall all by itself in this little alcove. With no other people around. Just me. By myself.

I was so scared last night I could barely sleep. Especially because when you're half-blind without your glasses and you look out your window from your bed when it's snowing really hard it looks like MIST. And then, when you hear banging outside your door, all you can think is that it's the monster, coming to get you.

It turns out, there are just construction workers outside my door in the hall only every time I go out of my room they're just sitting around, eating their lunch (even at 7:30 in the morning and 3:30 in the afternoon) which is making me very suspicious that they're construction workers at all and not monsters, and that they just morph into ladders and rags and humans to trick me. And even though my door is locked and the chain is on it, all I can think is that all they'll have to do is grab the fire axe...



and hack through my door. Just like in The Shining.

Red rum. Red rum.

I'm doomed. If you don't hear from me again, you'll know what happened.

A bird in the hand...

I'm on vacation from work this week, and plan to spend the week writing, but there have some distractions.

First, I came home last night to find feathers* on the carpet.

At first, I thought a bird caught Mr. Baz on the patio and dragged him into the bedroom, where he planned to devour him. Because it's not like Mr. Baz could really catch a bird without front claws, and drag the bird into the bedroom, could he?

But Mr. Baz was sitting proudly by the feathers. Which could only mean one thing: he had either devoured the bird, or the bird was somewhere in the house.

Typically when Mr. Baz used to catch birds (when he still had front claws), he would place the bird head in his bowl after he finished eating the rest of the bird for dinner. Or lunch, or an afternoon snack, depending on when he caught the bird.

I checked his bowl, but it was empty. And there were no bones or blood anywhere, which meant the bird was somewhere in the house.

The Hubs and I searched everywhere using our favourite matching pig flashlights...

...which we got as a parting gift at a friend's wedding recently, but we couldn't find the bird anywhere. Instead, Mr. Baz thought that the flashing pig eyes were a game and tried to play with us.

Finally, we gave up and decided that the bird must've escaped and gotten back outside, despite the fact that the patio door was only open six inches - just enough for Mr. Baz to fit his belly through it. I mean, I had to believe that otherwise how was I ever going to get to sleep knowing there was a potentially dead, or crazy-mad featherless bird in the house?

Then, this morning, I got home to find that Mr. Baz had barfed all over the floor. Part of me hopes that it wasn't the bird that made him sick, since the bird could've been chock-full of disease. But secretly, the other part of me hopes it was the bird, just so that I don't find a rotting bird carcass in a pair of shoes next week.

Now, Mr. Baz is sleeping under the bed. Recovering. I hope. Not playing with the dead bird.

*Note: the feathers weren't actually pink. I didn't take a picture of the actual feathers, because that's just gross.