“We’re Pregnant”

Really? “We’re pregnant”?

Interesting, because I don’t think that you (man) have a vagina. This very important fact precludes you from being pregnant. Ladies, when you proudly proclaim “we’re pregnant”, trust me, a high percentage of people receiving your happy news are rolling their eyes in spirit.

Why is it that “we’re pregnant” has become commonplace? To me it's pretentious and plain ludicrous. Being pregnant as defined by Websters:

“Containing a developing embryo, fetus, or unborn offspring within the body”

Sorry gentlemen, but until science creates a away for you to push a child through your urethra, you are not pregnant.

I assume this term was sprouted from the fact that men want to be recognized as an integral part of the pregnancy. Understanding that males would like to take part in the exciting phase of their baby’s development I’ve come up with a compromise.

How about “we’re having a baby”. Still no entirely accurate but much less nauseating than aforementioned.

10 Things I Love About You, Parkdale

Parkdale is a Toronto neighbourhood with a reputation of being down and out and includes the infamous “King and Dufferin” intersection known for gang activity. It used to be an affluent area back in the earlier part of the century as it’s close to Lake Ontario, however, when the Gardiner Expressway was built in the 1950’s things went downhill. The rich moved out and an influx of immigrants replaced them turning the district into one of the most culturally diverse areas in Toronto.

Another factor that contributes to Parkdale’s unsavoury reputation is the fact that it’s home to many of the city’s mentally ill. This resulted after the Government of Ontario closed down a large long-term care facility for the mentally ill in the 1970’s in an effort to curb spending. Patients were released from the hospital, and many of them found homes within the Parkdale community.

When my brother drops me off at my apartment building, he makes the same joke about slowing the car down to a slow roll while I jump out. He also makes a show of locking the car doors when we turn onto my street. Hahaha...very funny. For all the heckling Parkdale gets (mostly from those living in the Beaches or “King West”) I would like to point out that it is actually a lovely place to live. So, on that note, here is my tribute to Parkdale:

1.) I often see Buddhist monks walking in full attire around my neighbourhood. This reminds me of the wonderful cultural blend that exists in the area and actually makes me feel safe. How can anything bad happen with monks walking around?!

2.) The “Dunn Milk” convenience store on the corner of Dunn and Springhurst is a throwback to the traditional corner store. Outside, there is a full flowershop complete with baskets of roses, hanging spidery plants, and sweet-smelling flowers. The Korean couple that runs the shop make a point of being friendly, remember my name, and always laugh at me when I buy cat litter.

3.) King & Jameson No-Frills. Perhaps a little contradictory, I will say that as an adventure seeker this grocery store definitely offers an adrenaline rush. Every trip is complete with an array of crazy, sometimes dirty, and always interesting characters. There are more rolling grocery carts in this store than you will find in the entire city. That being said, it’s always clean and you cannot find a better deal!

4.) Roti-Alley. Have you ever had Roti? I hadn’t before moving to Parkdale. This neighbourhood has more Roti shops that you can shake a stick at. All of them are delicious, authentic and cheap. My favourite? Ali’s West Indian Roti Shop (1446 Queen Street West). Try the chicken!

5.) One Word: Dollarama. They now accept interac. Check it out at 1337 Queen Street West (at Dunn).

6.) With one of the best patio’s in the city, The Rhino is a great place to watch an afternoon (and evening) roll by. It has an excellent view of Queen Street, a friendly crowd, and great food There are 200 different kinds of beer available! Check it out at 1249 Queen Street West (a few streets west of Dufferin).

7.) The Dufferin Gates of The Canadian National Exhibition is located two blocks from my building. Though I’ve lived here for over a year, I hadn't explored the CNE grounds until very recently. A quick jog through the CNE and you’ll find yourself on a wooden sidewalk with a beautiful view of Lake Ontario. There are plenty of picnic benches and green grassy areas to spend an afternoon reading and relaxing. The boardwalk can also be accessed by walking south on Dunn and over the Gardiner Expressway.

8.) Halfway Houses. There are many of them located in Parkdale and I know it’s probably a weird thing to love. I wouldn’t say I love them per se, but they add character and its residents remind me that I’m actually a very lucky person. It’s great to live in a neighbourhood that supports the mentally ill to try and integrate into society. I actually maintain a friendly relationship with some of the people who live in the halfway house across from my building. We wave to each other and they encourage me to incorporate empathy into my life.

9.) Graffiti. If you’re bored and feel like taking a stroll, I can’t think of a better place walk around than Parkdale. There is so much colourful and cool graffiti that you’re sure to be entertained for a good hour. Murals can be found on the sides of buildings pretty much anywhere, but my favourites are between Elm Grove Avenue and Dufferin (along Queen).

10.) The Mansions. There are a ton of huge old houses that use to belong to the wealthy (see intro paragraph). Nowadays, they’ve been split into apartments but maintain their charm. I find it relaxing to stroll up and down the streets to investigate the funky looking houses...

Red Brick Syndrome: A Follow-Up

Do yourself a favour and check this out:







http://www.theonion.com/content/video/fda_approves_depressant_drug_for

Who Really Likes People Anyway?

Sounds mean, doesn’t it. I know! Hear me out though...

Whilst enjoying drinks on a patio this past Saturday night, my friend Megan was discussing all the juicy details of her trip to Africa. The highlight, according to her was a group safari trip in Namibia which was limited to her family and only one other person.

“Only one random lady!” she reported triumphantly. On a trip across the world, what made her most happy was not having to deal with a stranger. In case you were wondering, she was also quite impressed with incredible wildlife, food, and scenery.

Got me thinking though about our quest for solitude in everyday life. Have you ever seen two strangers sitting next to each other if they don’t need to be? Take waiting in the doctor’s office, for example. The minute a seat opens up that does not require sitting directly next to another person – that seat is taken!

Rewind to about two years ago. I was on the “Sotobo” train line in rural Chiba prefecture traveling from the hellish fishing town I taught in to the slightly less desolate capital of Chiba City. Imagine an amazingly unpacked train where at 10 pm in the evening, riders are few and far between. My 45 minute commute habitually turned into a snooze-fest and just before shutting my eyes for some sweet dreaming, a totally normal business man sat directly next to me. There were empty seats aplenty.

Weird? Yes.

Enough to move to another seat? No.

About 20 minutes later I was awoken by a jab to my ribs. Upon opening my eyes I was greeting with my neighbour, pants open, and his itty bitty manly parts exposed for my “viewing pleasure”. Unfortunately for him I yelled very loudly and took my cell phone (complete with a totally adorable Hello Kitty chime, of course!) and attempted to take his picture. He escaped before I snapped his shot – you can imagine it didn’t take long for him to put his itty bitty goods back into his pants. I never did see him again, but the experience reinforced why Megan was happy about her stranger-less safari ride.

Lesson to be learned here is that interaction with the public is not for the faint hearted. And for God’s sake, move to that empty seat!

Observation: Irrational Anger (UPDATED)

Further to my posting, here is another one that makes me irrationally angry.

Have you ever gone to pick a stray hair off of a friends sweater? I once did this to my co-worker Carly, however, the hair was actually still attached to her head. Carly looked like she was ready to punch me and I didn't quite know why. Until it happened to me at which point I became enlightened. Suggestion: slightly tug at the hair to determine its level of commitment to the scalp. If this hair is really a stray, it will come loose with a slight tug.



===

Last night I joined my dodgeball team at Central Commerce High School, located in a leafy green and tranquil area of Little Italy. After a fun game of winding, catapulting, dodging, jumping, ricocheting, and all out dodgeball mayhem I was leaving the gym with my friend Esther when I felt a massive blow to my head. A team warming up to play after us and mistakenly had thrown the ball at my head at which point the culprit rushed over and apologised profusely.

The poor guy looked mortified and I could tell that he felt badly. Having just played a game of dodgeball where I had been hit about 100 times this incident shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. A lot. I wanted to head lock him WWF style and plough him straight into the gym wall.

Very irrational and of course I gave him a forced “Bean Smile” (imagine you’ve just eaten a burrito and need to fake a smile – there are no teeth being shown and the smile is awkward and uneven).

I’ve noticed that this irrational response is often evoked when a stranger unknowingly encroaches on my physical space without my knowing.

Other examples that send me into a mental rage:

1.) When someone steps on the back of my sandal as I’m walking. This happened to me once in San Diego and my shoe actually broke. If looks could kill the offender would have died instantaneously.

2.) Person A is walking towards Person B. Person A and B, who are walking at a fair pace and swinging their arms accordingly, knock hands/arms upon passing each other. Pisses me off.

3.) The bus comes to a sudden stop and a lovely lady next to you steps on one of your feet as she tries to steady herself. Once again, the “Bean Smile” is implemented as you assure her “it’s fine”. But it’s not, because you are screaming internally.

4.) This one isn’t physical but induces the same reaction. While chatting happily with a friend at a bar you are snapped out of your conversation by the sensation of sticky, wet, drink dripping of your arm/leg/foot. The Guilty Party gives you the “Bean Smile” while haphazardly looking for a napkin to help you dry off. Two words: F. Off.

Now, I’ll send it back to the readers. Do you have anything you`d like to add to the list of mental rage inducing events?

I’m hoping that all of you have a Mental-Rage free day with zero encounters of random physical invasions on your personal space!

Red Brick Syndrome

My friend Carolyn once told me that she had a case of Red Brick Syndrome (RBS). Apparently, her boyfriend coined the term after noticing how ecstatic she became over the simplest of things. Word on the street was that she was so overjoyed with life that something such as a pile of red bricks would send her into a tailspin of happiness.

As she was my roommate, I started observing her vigilantly for RBS tendencies. Little things like her favourite Mickey Mouse mug, fresh snow, and buses that arrived on time would literally throw her over the edge. Carolyn is now a successful lawyer who despite her hectic schedule, remains abnormally stress free. Though the theory is unproven, I believe that Carolyn's overall level of happiness and lack of stress is due to the astonishing rate at which RBS has presented itself in her life.

I’m not sure when it happened, but RBS also crept into my life. At first it was a flavoursome cup of piping hot coffee, solving a Sudoku, and getting free samples. The initial stages of RBS can be overwhelming as the victim does not know why they’re been chosen to run into such “luck”. As stage II RBS develops the symptoms become more severe; excitement over a perfectly rounded grapefruit, a super delicious bite of chicken shawarma, and the knowledge that Ben Mulroney has a receding hairline.

I want to know if RBS has surfaced in your life – has it?

Sure hope so!

Survival Strategies: Awkward Silences (Amended)

My friend Arun mentioned my list here is too long. I've shortened it for your reading pleasure.

===

Thanks all, for your feedback regarding yesterday’s posting on awkward silences.
Here are some of the suggestions that came back to me:

Elevator
1.) Post a daily poem in the elevator for discussion (Tiffany)
2.) Engage in a stretching session (Alison)
3.) Take the stairs (Sherry)

Hallway
4.) Perform a Dolly Parton song (Alison)
5.) Pass the time with a staring contest (Alicia)
6.) Conduct a game of “Marco Polo” (Jacqueline)

Also, thank you Sherry Young for sending me this comprehensive list on dealing with elevator awkwardness. I am a fan of # 20.

1. Make race car noises when anyone gets on or off.

7. Shave.

8. Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask: "Got enough air in there?"

11. When arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open, then act embarrassed when they open by themselves.

14. One word: Flatulence!

17. Stare, grinning, at another passenger for a while, and then announce: "I've got new socks on!"

19. Give religious tracts to each passenger.

20. Meow occassionally.

22. Frown and mutter "gotta go, gotta go" then sigh and say "oops!"

26. Walk on with a cooler that says "human head" on the side.

29. Leave a box between the doors.

33. When the elevator is silent, look around and ask "is that your beeper?"

34. Play the harmonica.

38. Say "I wonder what all these do" and push the red buttons.

41. Bring a chair along.

50. If anyone brushes against you, recoil and holler "Bad touch!"

Observation: Awkward Silences

I started a new job in September with a fantastic company and wonderful co-workers. The environment is one in which scooters are welcomed indoors, politically incorrect conversations (including lunch time discussions on nipple yeast, stomach inconsistencies, and eyebrow manicuring techniques) are commonplace. What a wonderful way to continue The Year of Heather!

Nothing, however, is perfect as you know. Shortly after starting my new job I discovered one of my biggest fears had been realised – and on a daily basis no less.

A plethora of awkward silences.

I don’t attribute this to my lovely and boisterous co-workers. It’s more of a layout problem combined with “technical difficulties”.

Firstly, the elevator used to transport me each day to the 4th floor where my desk is located is without a doubt, the slowest moving mechanical device in the Western hemisphere. Here are some of the things I’ve overheard about the office elevator:

1.) It is powered by hand dyer.
2.) Gnomes are actually living in the elevator shaft. It is they who manually pull the cables.
3.) Eco-friendliness has taken over the building and the elevator moves with the help of solar power.
4.) A fella from the office we share our floor with once stated that there are men who shovel coal into a furnace (as seen in the move “Titanic”) which is why it moves so slowly.

You get the picture.

What this means is, you are stuck in a mandatory 5 minute awkward-fest in an enclosed space with people you know, and some that you don’t. As we creep from floor to floor, elevator patrons, trying to find some way of breaking the awkward silence make jokes about who will climb through the elevator ceiling to free us with a crow bar should it get stuck. That little diddy only takes 1 floor – we have 3 more to go!! Next on the agenda is a polite inquiry into evening or weekend plans as we pretend to care while subtly checking the monitor for an update on our vertical coordinates. Once the conversation finally peters out the silence finally takes over. People check their cell phones, toy with their building passes, and stare intently at their shoes. FINALLY! We’ve arrived at the 4th floor. Sweet Sweet Glory!

But it’s not over yet. What about those extraordinarily long hallways? The one in my office spans the entire length of a football field.

Making your way in the world today, takes everything you got. Or at least it will get you to the washroom in one piece. You see a co-worker all the way at the other end of the hall. Do you acknowledge the person right away with a wave? Seems polite enough. The only problem is you have now locked yourself into a 30 second staring contest until person A and B have passed each other in the hallway (of course, at the moment of passing you must engage in a second greeting).

I’ve noticed some people take the oblivious route. They purposefully avoid eye contact, swiftly moving on a mission. Upon passing, person A will suddenly look up surprised – they “didn’t hear you coming”! Hello! How’s it going! Plastic Smile! AWKWARD!

I would love to hear what you, the readers, do in such situations. Maybe together we can find a way to overcome this epidemic of awkwardness. At the very least we can take comfort in knowing we suffer together wishing in such situations to be alone!

Observation # 1: Phone Messages

Who ever sounds cool while leaving a phone message? Not me, that's for sure. I just left my dentist a message that will have her wondering if she really wants me to EVER reschedule the appointment I just cancelled. Frankly, I don't blame her.

Leaving messages is not something I enjoy doing. Firstly, have you ever listened to a message you've left someone? It's horrific. I personally sound like a 50 year old truck driver from Oklahoma. There is also a pitch and voice control problem going on.

Here are some other phone related issues I've notice:

A.) The Rambler. These people have no real point in mind which is why they leave a peppy, friendly, and completely nonsensical message. When their voicemail comes to a close you're absolutely uncertain of the bottom line. Do they want to have salmon for dinner or am I suppose to call back with the TTC website?!

B.) The "In-Transit". These goons are cutting out left, right, and centre. I have a friend who likes to take advantage of the 1 minute above ground stretch on the Bloor-Danforth subway line between Castle Frank and Broadview. Good grief. I mean, don't start telling me juicy gossip when there is a 60 second window! Other "In-Transit" related problems; low talkers (they don't want people listening...then don't call from the bus), and lost travelers (not paying attention because they're fearful for their life after mysteriously finding themselves in the midst of Regent Park).

C.) The Rehearsal-King. Come on...did you write your message down to appear calm and collected? I'm onto you Rehearsal-King.

D.) The Mind Reader. Or at least, that's who they think we are. This person doesn't leave their name or number. If they do leave their number it's the same speed as the man from the Micro Machine commercial and you end up having to re-play the darn voicemail 8 times.

Toot toot!