Prolific Immigrant

Apart from the fact that she’s adopted half of the world and has decided to give birth to the other half, it is precisely because she does this, and has done it for long enough to eschew the possibility of idiots calling it an actor’s ‘grab’ for attention, that I respect her.

Most definitely more than the idiot celebrities (and we know who they are) who would support the likes of Huckabee (“If They Ain’t Christian, If They Ain’t White, If They Ain’t Hete-row, Then They Ain’t Right”) and McCain [the bona fide moron who made a joke of bombing an ENTIRE NATION, (but then again: them's Moslems don't really count, y'all)].

.1. My personal shopper (I’m lame, what can I say?) Kevin at Club Monaco in the Rideau Centre. He just dressed me in an item that’s not yet shelved – there’s nothing more that a woman can ask for in terms of clothing.

I have an event this evening and one tomorrow; Kevin’s turned me into a French ‘coquette’ and I’m acquiescing.

.2. Jacquie at Sophia Esthetics. Let her be your wax-ologist. She’ll make your legs and arms all shiny and brand new every four weeks. Trust me: Call and make an appointment with her immediately!

.3. The poutine at Maclaren’s on Elgin. If they’d let me, I would place their poutine in a blender and turn it into a hot drink; I’d call it the Hot Mahoutine and brand it: ‘Canada’s yummy tummy protein fun’. (They have a cracktastic Japanese convection oven that ‘cooks’ everything in 2 minutes, even a 20 pound turkey. You know how I know? Because I asked. Specifically, I asked: So? How do you make such spectacular poutine? How often do you fry the potatoes? Do you fry the gravy, too? Why does it taste so good? Can I place this in a blender and turn it into a hot drink? And that’s when they told me NOTHING IS FRIED! Hurrah!)

An educational two sites sent my way (thank you!).

First is the Scottish Palestine Solidarity Campaign, and second is Israel’s 60th Birthday blog that has an excellent Jews-in-solidarity-with-Palestinians blog roll and a must-read letter from Freud.

Bookmark & learn.

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Searching for: “has gerry butler asked someone to marry her”
FYI: Gerry’s a boy with boy parts.

Searching for: “pictures of females really pulling mens b*lls”
Please note the “really”, because we don’t want pictures of female slackers to turn up – we want women who think they’re playing with an elastic band and their respective little b*tches.

Searching for: “female in a bikini top sitting on a bomb”
Is bomb code for something?

Searching for: “how to stop yoga making you fart”
You don’t. That’s why you’re to keep your abdomen muscles tight at all times; having nothing at all to do with ‘core strength’, I’m now convinced it’s to lessen the gas emissions in yoga classes the world over.

I received this in the mail at the office, Thursday last. It’s now off my computer screen and pinned to my wall, where it will stay until it falls apart because of age.

I love this. Not because – according to Baby Jane – I am way hotter, but because it’s the sort of thing only Janey and I would do for one another; countless and random magazine and newspaper pages sent by snail mail throughout the years. (Make sure you click the picture to read the note; I think Janey’s hand writing is very fashionable and should become an official script titled ‘The Baby Jane’ because Times New Roman is just such a bore.)

Psst! Why should you fly Porter?
Because they’re brilliant and fun and they serve tons of snack foods and their water bottles are square and they have free wi-fi and comfy couches and also because I think their mascot may be a racoon. (A racoon!) They’re how I last got to Toronto and how I will get there every time from here on in; they’re the same folks who provided me with the opportunity to ask my former boss / former leader of the opposition if he was an actor from ‘LA Law’. (Read: They let me illustrate out loud the dorkiness.)

Psst, no 2! Did any of you send me a postcard from Honolulu? I…don’t…know…who sent this postcard…and I can’t read the signature

I was in the middle of a party, eyes dressed accordingly in kohl and mascara and carrying myself around with some level of dignity until I was handed a gift. When she handed this to me and I unwrapped it, I began to cry and my mascara frowned and sighed.

After already spending so much of her time with me to help me better understand and to tell me I would get through things in time, she took more time.

After so much of her time was spent holding on to and rocking me while I was weeping in her living room, she took more time.

After having already spent too much of her precious time emailing me down, phoning me down, text messaging me down and allowing me to draw from her incredible reserve of strength and faith, she still took more time to take one of my stories and have it published in a little bookie.

The individual who handed me the gift is one of the very few blessings to come from 2007 and has become one of my greatest confidantes. This bookie is one of the most special items anyone has ever gifted me, and she is one of the most precious that God has ever gifted me.

“CONGRATULATIONS, YOU FOUND ME!” is only one of the spectacularly retarded captions men use on a particular on-line dating site.

I decided to join in an effort to perhaps find an interesting and viable dude to hang out with for quite some time.
I have one rule: Said Dude has got to be a Believer.

The interactions I’ve had have been the kind of funny that’s piss-worthy. For your enjoyment, I’ve decided to make note of a few scenarios…

Scenario no 1:
The guy who sent me a message that read “je ne cherche pas pour le serieux, juste pour le fun Do you want to get together ”. Loosely translated, that reads “I am STD filled and pick up sexual partners on line. Please understand that I am a gigantic loser and I have no social skills. These qualities attract sluts. I’ve not read your profile that clearly indicates you have a brain and I am sending you this mentally handicapped note because I saw your photo and your [sic] smiling and that means your [sic] good to go. P.S. I hate women.”

and to which I responded:
“Je ne cherche que pour le serieux, donc prend votre “;)” and take a hike.”

Scenario no 2:
The guy who sent me a message that yelled “SALAM. GOOD. NICE TO MEET ME. PLEASE MESAGE.”

and to which I responded:
“SALAM. LITERACY IN ENGLISH A MUST, PLEASE. BYE BYE!”

Scenario no 3:
The hottie (seriously, this guy’s HOT) who sent me a message that read “Hey honey, you’re gorgeous. Send me your email and your phone number and we’ll hit the town ‘cus you want to with me.”

and to which I responded:
“LOL LOL LOL!!!!!!! Uhm. No.”

Scenario no 4:
Every single man who posts a photo of his stupid ass in a bar with his shirt unbuttoned down to his navel and with several (never only one) large tittied women hanging off his slimy, greasy body. Because NOTHING says “I want commitment” like maybe an alcohol fuelled orgy.

Scenario no 5:
Every single man whose profile picture is of him wearing sunglasses.

DUDE. You are not Tom Ford and the fact that you need to advertise just how cool you are makes you that much less cool. (And p.s. even Gerry Butler – who will always be way cooler than you – takes off his sunglasses when hitting on a woman. That’s what I’ve been told.)

Scenario no 6:
The 78 year old men trolling for women aged 18 – 27 but making an “exception” for me.

Because there’s nothing I love more than limpness. Thanks, grandpa.

Scenario no 7:
Every single man who has in his “name” any of the following:
lonely
prince
king
masculine
horny
perfect
hollatcha
kitty
ImHot
CONGRATULATIONS
YouWillNeverKnow (nor do I ever plan on it)

Scenario no 8:
Every single man whose profile is all about finding a woman to “stand by me in my success and not work but stay at home and take care of me” because I am a complete and total idiot and my mother still irons my underwear and I have no social skills whatsoever, so please just stand there, look pretty and cook my food. It doesn’t matter that I’m sort of ugly. I’m just saying.

Scenario no 9:
All of the men who YELL IN THEIR PROFILES BECAUSE WHY BOTHER SPEAKING NORMALLY WHEN YOU CAN BE AN OBNOXIOUS IDIOT?

Scenario no 10:
This is a category all on its own. I was seeing a “boy” year before last – he wore a white fedora in winter because that was Montreal fashion. I can’t even begin to excuse my behaviour, so I won’t try. Let’s chalk it up to ‘I’m just an idiot’. Among The Girls, he will forever be known as The Pink Lady and that should tell you all you need to know about him.

That and the fact that his friend is on the same site as I. His friend, who sent me a message asking me if I was free and available and would go out with him but not tell The Pink Lady.

Wow.

********************
(1) I promise to keep you abreast of my escapades.

(2) Special mention: I met one really nice guy who has already become a friend. He’s by far the coolest guy I’ve met so far and I plan on running past him The Crazy I encounter, and I hope he’ll do the same. He has a puppy named The Peanut (well: not really, but I think that sounds great).

Of the many things for which I am thankful are the friends I hold near and dear.

Na.oh.mee, mentioned here previously, is one of these friends.

Of all her exceptional qualities, it is her compassion that draws me in and softens me up. It’s this same compassion that will undoubtedly permeate all of her future works, most definitely her soon-to-be first novel: Cricket in a Fist.

It will be released in two days and I am anxiously awaiting my copy!

Arabic

Your movement, as your language;
Hushed like curtains
back-drawn and passed through

Whispered into antechambers
that you’ve dressed before the dawn
with offerings and incense

or the tap of bare feet
on marble intricate as if
through girded iron interlaced
smoke were woven

and the swish of silk
about your heels

and something carried
high and in your hands.

***************
…every girl should have one: a poem inspired by her.

A quandary for you to weigh in on.

Your boyfriend’s friend is dating someone – she happens to be the first one of this guy’s girlfriends that you really really like (you may even like her more than your boyfriend’s friend, but I won’t tell anyone). She’s funny, honest, caring, kind of wicked in all senses of the word; you have a lot in common and you were excited that there would be a new friend in your life.

And then your boyfriend’s friend and her break up.

What do you do? Especially if…you really want her to be a friend in your life, but you’ve not spoken to her and you don’t know how she’ll react if you contact her?

(I’ll give you my answer once you’ve provided yours; one of The Girls is currently experiencing this dilemma and we all have different opinions, so I thought I’d put it to those who live here.)