Stupid Parking Tricks


When not in use to house shopping carts, it's obvious that it's a car park for seniors.

West Indian Parenting Tip #347


The Mister's cousin has 3 children, now all in their teens.
When the oldest one was 16 or so, there were arguments about her curfew (natch).

One time during an argument with her father, she stormed out of the room during a lecture narrated by her father, stomped up to her room and SLAMMED the door.

The next day, her father took the door off it's hinges and put it in the basement for three weeks proclaiming:
"When she own she own dor, she can slam it aaaallll she wan. But, while I ownin' de dor, der be noooo slammin' dor roun here!"

Voila!
No more door slamming.

Bwaahahahahahahh!

Friday 8:30pm

The phone rings:

Mom: "Hi haney...vat yu doink?"

Me: "I'm cooking, ma"

Mom: "Heeeeh, lele....cooking SO LATE?"

Me: "I just got home an hour ago...and the maid has the day off"

Mom: "Ya, yu mekka jokes. Vai da Meesta neva Kook?"

Me: "He does sometimes, but he gets home later than me..."

Mom: "I kaal, an yu alveys da van to be kookink....yu shood kam hom late too, an
don hev to kook, jas like heem..."

Me: "Why would I do that, ma?".

Mom: "Eh, tis is vai I neve vant to be marry again...iss too mach no fare...how's yu car? An da Meesta's car? ok?"

Is it normal to ask after the health of vehicles?

100 Things I Love
Totally inspired by LN of Stranger in a Strange Land

1. The Mister 2. My Family 3. Languages 4. movies from the 60’s 5. Poems by Dorothy Parker 6. The smell of pavement after a summer shower 7. A blanket right out of the dryer on a cold winter night. 8. My car. 9. Old school funk. 10. The first day when you really feel like it’s spring and you can smell it. 11. My oldest friend Karla (cmok!) 12. Stand up comedy 13. Ethnic food (because I can’t decide which cultures food I like the best). 14. Sitting on the front stoop on a summers night, just (as my niece says…) “chillaxin’”. 15. Ex YU movies. 16. Ex Yu Music 17. Finishing a project. 19. Hearing about the traditions of other cultures. 20. A cold beer and a cigarette. 21. New clothes 22. New shoes or boots. 23. Long distance phone calls with people I love on the other end of the line. 24. Kind neighbours. 25. Driving really late at night or really early in the morning. 26. BBQ in the backyard on a summer night. 27. Finally getting someone to understand something. 28. Any movies with drag queens in it. 29. Road trips with The Mister. 30. Gibanica 31. Foreign accents. 32. The National Anthem. 33. Mounties. 34. The song “Tamo Daleko” 35. The colour red. 36. Getting a real honest to goodness letter in the mail. 37. Kurt Vonnegut 38. Mafia movies. 39. Maps. 40. Black and white photos of the 40’s and 50’s. 41. Art Deco and Art Nouveau. 42. Middle Eastern music. 43. Pictures of Greece. 44. Old school reggae music. 45. Rohinton Mistry. 46. Pam Grier. 47. Psalms. 48. Reading blogs. 49. 60’s sitcoms. 50. Older couples holding hands and walking together. 51. Men playing with children. 52. Straight forward, no bullshit people. 53. Other people’s children. 54. The smell of fresh cut grass. 55. The smell of wood burning on a winter night. 56. Shoveling snow on a clear winter night (believe it or not) 57. Wearing The Misters T-shirts after he’s worn them. 58. Being all dressed up, and feeling all pretty in high heels with my hair done. 59. The feeling I get when the whole house is clean at the same time. 60. Drinking coffee and watching Coronation Street in bed with The Mister on Sunday mornings (Yes..he watches it too!) 61. Gustav Klimt 62. Turkish coffee and having my cup read. 63. Etta James. 64. My mother in law and sister in law. 65. Getting my car washed. 66. Listening to a good book on tape while I’m driving. 67. Listening to Dr. Laura in my car and yelling at her when she gets all uppity. 68. Serbian expressions. 69. West Indian expressions. 70. Having people over for dinner. 71. Watching kids play. 72. Gospel music. 73. Telling jokes. 74. Vinyl records. 75. Samuel L. Jackson. 76. Quentin Terantino movies.( I didn’t like Kill Bill though) 77. Getting a manicure.
78. Wendy’s salads. 79. Soup. 80. A good debate. 81. Listening to people tell stories about their lives. 82. Finding another Slav in the blogosphere (ie: Branka & Kat). 83. Driving fast when I’m “in the zone”. 84. Having a good hair day. 85. Crossing things off of my list. 86. Sidney Portier. 87. Jazz. 88. Trying a new recipe and having it turn out great. 89. Perfume. 90. Turtleneck Sweaters. 91. Ceca. 92. Sari fabric. 93. Watching my niece Kamika dance. 94. Watching my cousin Tanja Salsa dance. 95. People who like to laugh. 96. Venice. 97. Belgrade and Dubrovnik. 98. Cemeteries. 99. Photographs of people. 100. My sanity.

Let me ask you a question.



Are you a grownup?
When I ask that, I mean do you take your life and all that is in it seriously?
Would you do something that would hurt the people you love if they found out?
Would you take that chance?

Many of us are confronted with opportunities to do things that our more base instincts would enjoy, but as adults we should be able to control those base wants.
Some people justify their actions by blaming others and not taking responsibility for their own choices.
“If (insert name/relationship) was different, then I wouldn’t have had to do that”.

Truth is, this is the way children think.
Real grownups take their lives and the people in their lives seriously.

It’s true that one action can change your life forever.
One event can show someone what you are capable of and change that person’s view of you for the rest of time.

When confronted with the opportunity to feed that base whim, do you fight temptation?
Or are you swayed by your childish justifications and vindictiveness?
Do you think about the people your actions affect?
Or is the main thing of importance to you your own satisfaction?

A person can justify just about anything in their own mind if they really want to do something.
For every pro argument, there is a con argument.

See, I’m what you call uptight, and uncool.

I think about the people I love, and I care what they think of me.
God made me a terrible liar to help me stay straight, and I am thankful for that.
I am a list maker by nature, and I have my priorities in order of importance on my Life List.

I was recently called judgmental.
Thank me if you see me as judgmental.
It’s us judgmental people who afford non-judgmental people the luxury of being so without the world falling into a shit hole of chaos.

Yes.
I am a judgmental adult.
I embrace it.
I try my best to live by that higher standard.

If I fall, judge me...because I deserve it.
But, I'll probably be harder on myself than you will.

[ Sat Aug 09, 2003 repost ]
I Vant to be Alone

I vant to be lyink on da chaise longue, an smoke da cigarettes.
I vant to boz mai manservant aroun an mek him bring me da bon bons, an bekaz I am lyink down...I vill vear dis shoes.
I vanna ver da silk kimono, mit mai hair an mekap to be perfekt.

I don vanna go to da Valmart, an da grocery stor.
I don vanna clean da hous, an kook da dinne.
I don vanna run da....how yu say.....errands.
I vanna hev, how yu say...."peopl" to do dis for me.

I vanna say "fack aff, responsibilities!", "Kiss mai ess, obligatshons! Go avay! Leave me alon!"

I vanna bi like Greta an Marlena touday.

Subjects Like This Drive Me Nuts...


Cynical-C posted this entry about 13 year old Carl Rimmer who installed a DOS based messaging program on a school computer and then sent a message out saying "hey", and got a 3 day suspension from school.

This kind of thing drives Chris over at Cynical-C insane.
It does me too, but I think for different reasons.

Dave Lieber states:
"Remember, we pay the salaries of the teachers and staff. We buy the computers. We pay for the buildings in which they are used. As long as public school is public, the Beverly Sweeneys of the world need to know that it is our right and duty to look over their shoulders and question what they do."

I would like to remind Mr. Lieber that the taxpayers also pay for the maintenance of said computers as well as the salaries of the teachers who supervise the protocol of the users of those computers. It is up to the Beverly Sweeneys of the world to make sure that our taxpayers money is not wasted (money that could instead be used to purchase newer, better equipment for already cash strapped school districts) removing viruses and inappropriate material from school computers that was installed without permission by the litte Carl Rimmers of the world.

He writes:
"The first problem here is that Sweeney, a computer teacher, apparently doesn't understand the term hacking. Hacking is not using a built-in command to send a message. Hacking is defined in two general ways: 1) use of a computer to break into someone else's computer system, and 2) the sophisticated techniques used by an adept computer programmer."

Mr. Lieber is missing the point. The issue is not "hacking". The real issue is respect for equipment that is shared by a large number of people. I'm no "adept computer programmer" but I do think that a 13 year old shouldn't be screwing with the DOS of a schools' system of computers. Why should little Carl be allowed to install a program that can potentially fuck up other programs, again costing taxpayers money in repair and maintenance costs...and let me tell you, if you call someone into a school to do any sort of work, they are charging you 3 times the going rate. Everyone loves to feed at the public trough.

Public property is not personal property and shouldn't be used as though it is. What if all of Carls classmates did the same and brought all kinds of shit from home and installed it on the schools computers...how much would that cost taxpayers in repair and maintenance?
What about porn?
What if some little kid brings that in and uploads it?
Who's paying the legal costs of the suit that would be filed by the parent whose child viewed it because someone elses child uploaded it without the knowledge of the Beverley Sweeneys of the world?
The taxpayers of course, and probably Ms. Sweeney personally as well.
Liability is a fucking HUGE issue in schools, and why should they put themselves, and the taxpayers Mr. Lieber is so high on his horse about, in a position to take it?

The Toronto District School Board has a 4 page contract that children and parents have to sign before a child uses any computer equipment. Let me tell you, Carl would have been turfed here in a New York minute, and a possible suit filed (on behalf of the taxpayers) against his parents if the equipment was damaged.

But, I think what bothers me most about this is the popular pastime of bashing authority figures in the eyes of children.
We complain that children have no respect for authority.
That they have no limits, that they are arrogant and mouthy.

Well, no fucking wonder!

From commercials depicting parents as morons and children as the intelligent decision makers to articles bashing teachers for maintaining some sort of order in their classrooms...all these chip away at children's ability to learn respect for others, and the property of others.

The fact that little Carl Rimmer felt free to install software on a computer that did not belong to him, without informing anyone, tells me that he doesn't understand what is appropriate and inappropriate.

What bothers me, is this attitude of entitlement that media often seems to enforce.
"Carl was learning. What's your problem?"
My problem is that Carl was treating public property as though it were his personal property.
It's about respect for things that do not belong to you.

It's something that we are rapidly losing, and advocates for loosey goosey teaching methods like Mr. Lieber just make an eductors job harder than it needs to be.
I don't know if he thinks that teaching todays child is a walk in the park...but I'm here to tell him that it isn't.

Between the media and parents interference, demanding that their children have no discipline from teachers, less homework, easier tests, and no keeping children back a grade if they fail, it's almost impossible to do your job.

We can complain that children are coming out of school without the education that they used to get, and they are right. It's because of this attitude of "let them do whatever the hell they want"...because they're "learning at their own pace".

Yes, but you are asking for them to learn with little or no guidance.
It's not possible.

What they aren't being allowed to learn by people with Mr. Lieber's attitude is a basic life skill:
Respect and consideration for others and that everything they touch is not theirs to do with what they please.

Even if they are 'learning'

You're a Rich Girl....


I was reading a post at Shasta McNasty's about a dream she had that featured the blued eyed soul stars Hall and Oates.

You know:
"You're a rich girl and it's gone too far, but you know it doesn't matter anyway...."
or
"If you feel like leavin', you know you can go...but why don't you stay until too-morr-ow...."
or
"You know your kiss is on my..." oh well, you get my drift...

When I was a teenager, I was totally in love with John Oates.
She wouldn't allow me to stick posters up on the wall because it would ruin the paint, but if I were allowed to...I would have...

Let me get to the point,
Shasta reminded me of a memory.

My friend Sonja who visits this site, and really should have a blog, but doesn't...might remember this as my witness.

Many years ago, Sonja and I were at the now defunkt

Bamboo Club.
We were living it up watching a reggae band that my friend Roscoe was playing in, I think it might have been The Bonconganistas or The 20th Century Rebels...Roscoe played trombone in so many bands, who could keep track?

We were both quite drunk, when I looked over by the stage and said:

"Hey! That looks like John Oates!"

and Sonja said,
"Hey! You should go over there and talk to him!"

Which is a suggestion that makes a lot of sense when you're drunk...so I went over.

Did I think about what I would say?
No.

Did I consider that I was drunk and whatever I said to John Oates would sound like I was drunk?
No.

So I swagger up to him with my fifth(or whatever) glass of wine in my hand, and say:

"Are you John Oates?"

and he goes,

"Yeah"

and I go,

"Oh my God, when I was sixteen I would have died for you!"

and he goes,

"So what are you now? Semi paralyzed?"

So, anyway...we didn't get married.

Bad Parenting Bitch #728


Ok.
This is most certainly not the first time I have bitched about kids with no limits, who have been trained by their parents to think that they are the worlds pupak.
I hate those parents and if I could, I would send them all to parenting boot camp.

So, I'm at the Asian Market this afternoon, and across from the Asian Market is a Chinese Bakery. Occasionally, I stop there to get some buns or sweets for my stepson.

I don't know if you know this or not, but no one can make sponge cake like the Chinese (just so you know).

So anyway, I'm in the bakery and I've got my tray and tongs and I'm ready to choose my goods.
There is a family in the bakery with two children.
A boy and a girl who are alternating between running around wildly and opening the various containers and feeling up the buns.
The little boy has a bun he's chewing on, that his parents clearly have not paid for yet because they were still choosing what they wanted on their trays.
The little girl was sticking her snotty little hands into every container she could reach and her parents were doing fuck all to stop her.
At one point the woman working behind the counter came out and told her to stop.

She responded by wailing and throwing herself on the floor.
Mom and Dad don't do anything.
She starts to kick the table that is holding more baked goods and then grabs one of the cakes wrapped in plastic and torpedoes it at the lady behind the counter.

Well ladies and gentlemen, this is where Children's Aid would have had to come and get me if she were my child.
The father apologizes sheepishly to the lady behind the counter and mom says to add the cake to the bill.

I look at the woman behind the counter and she looks at me and I know that we are thinking the same thing.

So, I've got my tray full of buns on the counter and doesn't satan's spawn throw his soggy, saliva soaked piece of bun on my fucking tray!

Well!
"Aye!" says I, as I give him a little shove in the shoulder, and I point to the half eaten, soggy, saliva infested blob of dough touching my buns.

"Oh," says mom, "He probably thinks that it's our tray"
"Oh" says I, "It's a disgusting thing to do even if it IS your tray. I don't know if you've noticed or not....BUT YOU'RE OUT IN PUBLIC!"

Then I turned and left.
Did I want those buns after that?
No way.

Disgusting.
We go through graduated licensing to get a drivers license, but any idiot can have a kid.

Overheard at Herbies:
A guy and a woman discussing the merits of canned soup.
"Yeah, I don't like that brand, the chicken is processed".

Chickie, if it's canned, it's processed, I'm thinking.

Then Chickie says: "Yeah, once I made my own soup"
Guy: "You made your own soup?"
Like she said "I made my own house"....

Get Ready My Darlinks


My mother who is not very into the social scene, has agreed to go over to my mother in laws house for a "Big People Party".
This may sound like not much, but my mother in law loves music, loves to dance, likes to have a drink or two and a smoke. In short, my mother in law likes to have fun.

My mother enjoys nothing listed above, least of all fun.
I'm going over there to help out with the food.

Originally, my mother wasn't going to go, but when she found out that I would be going anyway, she decided to come.
Yesterday my mother called in a panic and left this message on my answering machine:

"Sine, vat tim are ve goink? Vat does she drink? I hev to by a battle. Pa, don be dis vey...yu hev to tell me...yu no I don lik dis 'et da las minuta' tings...don be smart. Call me ODMA (right away)"

So, later today...I'm headed over there with my mother.
This should make good blogging material.

Dear Chesterfield,

So, there I was surfing around the other day, when I was stopped dead in my tracks!
There you were, kicking back at Erik's place!



I was shocked!
Haven't we been good to you?
Haven't we cleaned you semi-annually?
Didn't we buy you a matching loveseat for company?

I mean, we've been together since our days at the Balliol Street apartment.
That's what?
Eight, maybe nine years.
You're not going to throw all of that away are you?

Granted, you do look comfortable.
I see that you've got his blankets draped over you.

Scandalous!

Yes, I saw that Erik has two computers and a lot of shelves to keep you company.
I saw that he even has a TV in the living room...is that what you want?
A TV in the living room?
Human conversation isn't enough?

I know that both Christmas's are coming and there will be kids crawling all over you with sticky fingers and lots of asses putting pressure on you over the holidays at our place...and who knows, we might have to pull your bed out too...I know how you hate that.

Ok.
He's got his Christmas tree up...granted.
But, we can get one this year too...I promise...this weekend...

Ok?

We need you...

Please come home....

Make Memories

While out walking, there is nothing I like to see more than fathers with their children.
I remember once seeing a man acting like a goofy ass with his child and then spontaneously lifting his child onto his shoulders and galloping off down the street with his child laughing in that hiccupping laugh that children get when they are beyond happy.
It brought a smile to my own face.

I love a man who loves his kids.
It says a lot about a mans' character.

The Mister, when his children were small used to do all kinds of things with his two sons. Catch, bike riding, blading, movies, monster truck rallies, baseball games, and on and on.
I used to love watching him with them.
I often thought:

“He’s making memories”

One thing that was a ritual with them was kite flying.
See, The Mister grew up in Guyana, and apparently in Guyana kite flying was a big deal in the springtime.

This was no “half-assed go to the toy store and buy a kite and fly it” endevour.
This was a “get some balsa wood, string, specialized paper, paint and a bunch of other stuff and make a kite” endevour.

Every March the kite creating would begin, always with a different theme every year.
Complete with elaborate tail and special cuts to make noise as the wind blows through it.

Then, during Easter long weekend, they would go out and take turns flying it down by the lake.

For some whose fathers were absent or didn’t have the time, inclination, or just didn’t make the effort to make memories with their children, making them with their own is of tantamount importance.

They get to have those memories.
They grab them and hold them through their own children.

So if your Dad made memories for you, I hope you look back on those times with fondness, because children who don’t know any different often don’t realize how lucky they are to have a father to make memories for them.

If you’re a father who makes memories, I raise a glass to you.
Because you help to make better people of us all, those of us who watch and those who have the privilege of the effort made by a man who loves his kids.

How do you motivate someone to become a part of working society?
I read blogs every day.
Some of the bloggers I read are currently unemployed and frantically searching for work.
Others are working in jobs way below what they were educated to do while they search for jobs in their field.

That's why sometimes I get really pissed off in my job.

Let me explain.
The Centre I run is involved in many partnerships.
One of those partnerships is with Hu.man Re.sourc.es Can.a.da. (thanks Kat for the "stop search" method).
Hu.man Re.sourc.es Cana.da has a program that allows people to gain work experience assisting in the field of their choice. This is either to encourage a return to school or possibly a job in the future if the person proves to be responsible and worth hiring to the employer who allows them to complete their placement in said employers business.
Basically, it's to help people get their foot in the door.
H.uma.n Re.sourc.es Cana.da. pays the participants $8.50 per hour, bus fare and childcare if the participant has children for a three month placement.

When I calculate this as a taxpayer, it's a lot of money.
Especially if the participant has absolutely NO interest in working.
I have 2 participants in this program "working" for me.
One of them is ok.
The other one (when she shows up) is late, inappropriate, and has an attitude of entitlement.
She takes liberties and has no social filter.
It's clear to me that she really has no interest in working and I suspect that she's only in this program because she's been threatened with losing her benefits.
When I spoke to her Caseworker yesterday I had trouble explaining to him in a politically correct way everything that was wrong with this woman's work ethic (or lack of it) and attitude. He finally told me to just "spit it out" and I told him that as a taxpayer, I would rather she stay home on welfare than waste everyones time and energy spinning our wheels to help someone who has no interest in helping herself.
I told him to open that placement up to someone who really wants a "leg up" into the working world.
Next week Friday I will sit down with the Caseworker and the woman/girl and tell her all the reasons that we will not continue her placement after only 3 weeks.

The reason this pisses me off so much is because I've seen people who really only need a little help to become productive members of society. People who are desperate to do anything (and do) to continue feeding their families without the help of welfare and they get passed over for these kinds of programs because they are not full time welfare recipients. Meanwhile, we're wasting our energy on lazy asses like the one I'm turfing next week.

I swear, the longer I'm in this job, the less sympathetic I'm becoming.

The woman I'm telling you about, told me that she just had a miscarriage (remember I said she had no filter?) the week before she started with the program.
I asked her if she was ok now, and she said yes...then she left my office..and it hit me...she was fucking pregnant again and she can't even drag her ass to a job that was dropped in her lap!

Geeezzzuuuusss,
sometimes I feel like I'm turning into a Fascist.

I just came back from having lunch with my mother and her friend Dusanka who is visiting for 6 months from Serbia, and going back in a couple of weeks.

My mother is already consumed with Christmas issues.
She says:
“Evo Bozic, samo sto nije!”
Literal translation:
“Here’s Christmas, it’s just that it isn’t”

December 25th, not January 7th.
“Vat to by for Da Meester?”
“Vat to by for Baba? (The Mister’s mother)” and so on.
There is no convincing my mother that no one needs her to spend her money.
Dusanka has the right idea.
The problem is that Dusanka has the Serbian idea of Christmas.

Dusanka says:
“Go mit da big battle ov goot Konjak, an a nice cake”

My Mother says:
“Ma, yu kan doo det! Tis is no hou da Kanadian pepl do dis!”

That started a long diatribe on North American life.

See, Dusanka has been here for about 6 months.
She’s been observing and making comparisons, as visitors from other countries are wont to do.
Now, it’s natural to look for the negatives in the country you are visiting because, after all, you’re used to something different.

The problem is that as I sat there listening, I recognized me, and my whole life as seen through her eyes.
My life and maybe yours too…

She said:
“Back home, we work to live. Here, you live to work.
I watch you, my daughter and the people here, running, running, running. You drive one hour in traffic to work, you work 8 hours, and then another hour in traffic to go home…that is 10 hours, then you cook and clean when you get home, another 2 hours. That’s 12 hours before you can sit down and even consider yourself human.
If you have children to take care of, not even then. Then you get up before dawn to run to the gym to exercise and do the whole thing again.
Then, Saturday comes and you spend Saturday and Sunday running to do the things that you didn’t have time to do the rest of the week.
Yes, maybe you have more things in your life, nicer things in your house, but when do you enjoy them?
Back home, we don’t live like this.
I get up like you, I work until 1pm and then I come home and lay down until 4 and then I work again until 8…not all this run, run, run…and I retired at 50 and collect my pension. Here, you can’t live long enough to collect the pension you pay in to all the years you work, and even if you do collect, it’s not enough for a human to live on.
If this is your Capitalism, Jebo te Kapitalisam (translated literally = Capitalism fucked you.) then you can call me a Communist!

But I am a Communist with a life.
You are a Capitalist with no life.”

Ouch.

"Please Leave a Message After the Tone..."

All messages are one after the other.

Message #1
In Serbian:
"Sine, it's yu madder. I kal jas to hear yu voice. Kal yu madder ven yu get hom"CLICK

Message #2
"Ver ar yu so late? Yu hev a meetink? Kal me ven yu kam hom"CLICK

Message #3
"Ma, pfffffttt"
CLICK

Message #4 (in English)
"My name isss Radmila, an my fon numbe iss for-van- seex-bla-bla-bla-bla. Taaaannkk yuuuuu, good-byyyyee"CLICK

I called her back.
Holy shit, Ok?

I fired someone yesterday.

It's the first time that I let someone go and didn't feel the least bit badly about it.

Ok..Except for that idiot student last summer...I didn't feel bad about firing her arrogant little ass either.
But firing her at least gave me a little flinch.

This time it's different.
I fired a fucking idiot who put people in danger because of his irresponsible actions.

The Mister said that I'd get over that guilty feeling if I was making the right decision.

He's right.

Sunflowers

Someone I was having a discussion with recently reminded me of some of the people I have come across in my life.

Not friends.
Not even acquaintances.

Just random people who have passed through my life and briefly renewed my faith in the human spirit.

A couple of years ago, my mother was in the hospital again.
She was ill and was in for a six week stay.
I took shifts with my uncle visiting her and keeping her company.
He took the afternoon shift because his schedule was flexible.
I took the evening shift, because mine wasn't.

At the time, I worked at Leslie & the 401.
At the corner of Nymark and Leslie, there is a strip mall.
In the strip mall is a little tiny Chinese Bakery that makes some awesome won ton soup.

I started to stop there in the evenings to pick up some Chinese buns and won ton soup on my way to the hospital to see my mother.

After about the third time, the sweet little lady with the kind smile asked:
"You going to school?"
(Seneca College is quite close)
"No", says I.
"My mother is in the hospital, and I stop here to pick up a snack for us".
We got into a little conversation about taking care of aging parents, and I went on my way.

The next night the sweet little Chinese lady with the kind smile refused to let me pay for the won ton soup.
She said:
"You are a good daughter. I help you to be a good daughter".

From that time on, until my mother was released from the hospital, the sweet little Chinese lady with the kind smile, always asked about my mothers' health and never, ever let me pay for won ton soup.

So, if you're ever at Nymark and Leslie and you're feeling a little peckish, stop by the little tiny Chinese Bakery in the strip mall and pick up a delicious bun or some won ton soup, and smile at the kind little lady behind the counter.

She's one of God's Sunflowers.

Know What I Love About This City?

I love the fact that I can be washing my hands in the bathroom of a local mall listening to an Asian woman, a Black woman and a White woman speaking Portuguese to each other.

That's what this city is made of, and I love it.

Cod Fish Balls with Scotch Bonnett & Chili Sauce

for a closer look...look here.

Ok....Piss Off Already...

image: Going Bridal via Reecie

Let me preface this by saying I'm not the world's biggest overdone wedding fan.
I didn't grow up fantasizing about walking down the isle of huge Cathedral wearing a gigantic blancmange, with 5 or 6 tortured girlfriends I've made spend large amounts of money for dresses they probably hate and will never, ever don again.

I think that a wedding should be a gathering that I invite you to, to celebrate a blessed event.

You shouldn't have to fork over hundreds of dollars to be a part of it.
Our wedding was a simple affair.
We put no pressure on our guests.
I find the new trend of "monetary gifts preferred" on invitations in bad taste.
I find it distasteful, and if you send that to me on an invitation, you probably won't see me there.

Having said all of this, I now introduce you to Bernadette Navarro & Marty Beaulieu.
They are asking for corporate sponsors for their wedding.
They are promising their benefactors advertising on their wedding invitations and maybe (if the donation is big enough) an area to set up a booth at the reception.
Now, when I go to a wedding...that's what I want to do, fight off fucking salespeople.
Especially after I've dropped a couple of hundred bucks to go to the wedding in the first place.

What I don't understand is why someone needs a $30,000 wedding in the first place.

Call me old fashioned.
Call me behind the times.

Bernadette ends the article with this:
"We haven't told our friends or relatives about the sponsorship yet," she says.

"I don't want to hear that our approach is tacky."

Honey,
Too late for that.
Now everyone can think you're tacky.