My eldest son recently learned that the hockey season is generally sold out by this point in time, and that one cannot acquire tickets through Ticketmaster (or whichever company it is that sells them).
We have season tickets purchased in partnership with another friend. The majority of the games are sold, but we retain a few tickets to give out to clients or for ourselves.
After absorbing all this information, my son approached me in the kitchen with a few questions. The following is an accurate representation of our conversation.
Son: Are you on the list?
Me: What list?
Son: You know ... the list so that you get tickets every year.
Me: No. The seats aren't in my name.
Son: But that's soooooo bad!
Me: Why honey?
Son: Well, what happens if Daddy dies tomorrow? Then we'll stop getting tickets.
Me: No, the seats are in a company's name.
Son: Oh, that's a relief.
Yes, so your father and I can go ahead and die now because the tickets will still keep coming. My mind is completely at ease now.
N.B. I realise that the above makes my son sound callous and cold-hearted. He is actually quite a thoughtful, loving child and is very attached to both his dad and I. I'm sure when he's sitting at the ACC watching a hockey game, he'll be missing us both very much.
Friday, December 23, 2005
Monday, December 19, 2005
The Way to a Man's Heart
I recently had an opportunity to see a few nineteen or twenty year-old boys get visibly aroused. It was an interesting experience.
Growing up, my parents always told me that intelligence trumped physical beauty. I do believe this, but I also believe that part of the reason why they kept repeating this was that I was such an ugly duckling (their term, not mine). My dad used to look at me, shake his head sadly and then say "Well, at least you're smart".
Despite what I believe, there does appear to be a certain order in terms of what attracts one person to another. Generally, one's looks are the primary hook to getting another's attention. One doesn't have to be a knock-out, but something about one's physical appearance should speak to another person. After said other person's interest has been piqued, the looks should be backed up by something more substantial. That's my personal philosophy of course; I've met some couples whom I can't figure out (i.e. one person is wildly attractive in all senses and the other is aesthetically pleasing to the detached eye, but utterly two-dimensional -- which always makes me rethink whether the wildly attractive person is really all that great if s/he could have such shallow needs).
But I digress. My point is that I've grown up with the belief that it's not enough to be puff pastry, although of course, it is sometimes nice to walk into a room and have people ogle you (and not because you unknowingly have toilet paper hanging from the seat of your pants or something along those lines).
Recently, I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch at a restaurant located within a mall. Parking at this mall is free, and therefore a rare commodity. It is always an absolute bitch to find a space, particularly one close to a mall entrance. Most of the time, I employ the stalker approach; I hover near an exit until I see someone with shopping bags in hand, and follow that person slowly. (This method doesn't always pay off though, and I swear that people like to torture you by deliberately taking their time getting to their car in the most circuituous route possible).
On this particular occasion, I spied what appeared at first blush to be a desirable spot. Eager not to lose it, I sped over quickly. Important to note is the fact that I drive a fairly large vehicle (Chevrolet Suburban), which according to a friend of mine carries with it more square footage than his house. I therefore always back into a parking spot, because one never knows what might happen when it's time to leave. There is an art to parking my car though. My husband, who normally is an exceptionally good and confident driver, parks my car as though he's a myopic ninety-year-old lady.
As I approached the spot, I realised the reason why it was empty was that it was a fairly tight squeeze for any car, let alone a large SUV. I was debating the odds of finding another parking space in time to make my lunch appointment, when I noticed three young guys standing close by chatting with each other. One of them glanced up at me, and then nudged his buddies. With a smirk on his acne mottled face, he said something to his friends, at which point all three burst into raucous laughter. I imagined that the script went something along the lines of "Let's watch this chick try to park her big ass truck in this teensy spot".
Now, I'm used to all the bad driving jokes about women, Asians and Montrealers. I fall into the unfortunate category of belonging to all three groups. Stereotypes notwithstanding, I fancy myself to be a rather good driver. Determined not be be the object of ridicule, I gunned my engine and backed into the rather cramped spot in one smooth and very rapid tire squealing move. I then jumped out, slammed the door and sauntered off whistling, but not before glancing over my shoulder at the suddenly silent guys and grinning cheekishly. It wouldn't have mattered if I'd been a two-tonne granny -- they were clearly turned on by a girl who could adeptly maneouvre a large vehicle.
I'll have to amend my theory of attraction of physical appearance preceeding intelligence. Driving abilities seems to trump them both.
Growing up, my parents always told me that intelligence trumped physical beauty. I do believe this, but I also believe that part of the reason why they kept repeating this was that I was such an ugly duckling (their term, not mine). My dad used to look at me, shake his head sadly and then say "Well, at least you're smart".
Despite what I believe, there does appear to be a certain order in terms of what attracts one person to another. Generally, one's looks are the primary hook to getting another's attention. One doesn't have to be a knock-out, but something about one's physical appearance should speak to another person. After said other person's interest has been piqued, the looks should be backed up by something more substantial. That's my personal philosophy of course; I've met some couples whom I can't figure out (i.e. one person is wildly attractive in all senses and the other is aesthetically pleasing to the detached eye, but utterly two-dimensional -- which always makes me rethink whether the wildly attractive person is really all that great if s/he could have such shallow needs).
But I digress. My point is that I've grown up with the belief that it's not enough to be puff pastry, although of course, it is sometimes nice to walk into a room and have people ogle you (and not because you unknowingly have toilet paper hanging from the seat of your pants or something along those lines).
Recently, I was supposed to meet a friend for lunch at a restaurant located within a mall. Parking at this mall is free, and therefore a rare commodity. It is always an absolute bitch to find a space, particularly one close to a mall entrance. Most of the time, I employ the stalker approach; I hover near an exit until I see someone with shopping bags in hand, and follow that person slowly. (This method doesn't always pay off though, and I swear that people like to torture you by deliberately taking their time getting to their car in the most circuituous route possible).
On this particular occasion, I spied what appeared at first blush to be a desirable spot. Eager not to lose it, I sped over quickly. Important to note is the fact that I drive a fairly large vehicle (Chevrolet Suburban), which according to a friend of mine carries with it more square footage than his house. I therefore always back into a parking spot, because one never knows what might happen when it's time to leave. There is an art to parking my car though. My husband, who normally is an exceptionally good and confident driver, parks my car as though he's a myopic ninety-year-old lady.
As I approached the spot, I realised the reason why it was empty was that it was a fairly tight squeeze for any car, let alone a large SUV. I was debating the odds of finding another parking space in time to make my lunch appointment, when I noticed three young guys standing close by chatting with each other. One of them glanced up at me, and then nudged his buddies. With a smirk on his acne mottled face, he said something to his friends, at which point all three burst into raucous laughter. I imagined that the script went something along the lines of "Let's watch this chick try to park her big ass truck in this teensy spot".
Now, I'm used to all the bad driving jokes about women, Asians and Montrealers. I fall into the unfortunate category of belonging to all three groups. Stereotypes notwithstanding, I fancy myself to be a rather good driver. Determined not be be the object of ridicule, I gunned my engine and backed into the rather cramped spot in one smooth and very rapid tire squealing move. I then jumped out, slammed the door and sauntered off whistling, but not before glancing over my shoulder at the suddenly silent guys and grinning cheekishly. It wouldn't have mattered if I'd been a two-tonne granny -- they were clearly turned on by a girl who could adeptly maneouvre a large vehicle.
I'll have to amend my theory of attraction of physical appearance preceeding intelligence. Driving abilities seems to trump them both.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Bad Blogger
Is blogging like riding a bicycle? (i.e. Is it something you never forget, not does it give you saddle sores). I haven't posted in such a long time, I can't help wondering if I've lost my touch or not.
We've assumed care of this old man who is running the full spectrum of what appears to be dementia. He has been living in our home for the past couple of weeks, and his presence has literally sucked the life out of me. I never thought I'd get to a point where I just couldn't face blogging, but that's what happened. I felt impotent.
Anyway, for those who may have wondered, I am alive and I will be posting shortly. I can't promise that it will be even moderately interesting, but at least it will be one step above the topic of sex with courgettes and the like.
We've assumed care of this old man who is running the full spectrum of what appears to be dementia. He has been living in our home for the past couple of weeks, and his presence has literally sucked the life out of me. I never thought I'd get to a point where I just couldn't face blogging, but that's what happened. I felt impotent.
Anyway, for those who may have wondered, I am alive and I will be posting shortly. I can't promise that it will be even moderately interesting, but at least it will be one step above the topic of sex with courgettes and the like.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Six Degrees of Separation ... from porn, that is
It's Bloody Monday again and only twenty more days until Christmas ... bah humbug! Don't get me wrong ...I love Christmas; I just hate the commercialism that envelops it (but more on that another time).
Anyway, I have this terrible cold ('tis the season) at the moment and feel like crap, so I can't pull it together to write anything witty or brilliant (okay, so when do I ever? But the dreamer can always dream, no?)
I'll leave you all with this thought:
Somehow someone used a search engine for "Japanese transvestites in thigh high boots" and discovered my blog. So now I'm frantically scratching my brain trying to figure out when I've ever talked about trannies or thigh high boots. What a disappointment it must have been for the person to arrive at my site and find such mundane stuff. Which makes me think that maybe I should be spicing it up in here abit ... which means of course that I need to either lie my ass off, or stop editing out the gorier details.
Anyway, I have this terrible cold ('tis the season) at the moment and feel like crap, so I can't pull it together to write anything witty or brilliant (okay, so when do I ever? But the dreamer can always dream, no?)
I'll leave you all with this thought:
Somehow someone used a search engine for "Japanese transvestites in thigh high boots" and discovered my blog. So now I'm frantically scratching my brain trying to figure out when I've ever talked about trannies or thigh high boots. What a disappointment it must have been for the person to arrive at my site and find such mundane stuff. Which makes me think that maybe I should be spicing it up in here abit ... which means of course that I need to either lie my ass off, or stop editing out the gorier details.
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