Celery is about all these models must eat to stay so deathly and wretchedly thin. Their poor bodies must be screaming for a few carbs! I felt sorry for the struggling bodies trying to keep their hosts alive on a carrot a day. Watching "Seven Days Out" on Netflix, I happened upon Paris fashion week and the offerings of Karl Lagerfeld at Chanel.
OMG! Absolutely hideous! Who would actually wear any of these monstrosities? The dresses were, well....gruesome. Feathers, ribbons, bows, ugly black boots, stupid hats.......you name it, Karl had worked it all into his collection. And the ridiculous thing was it was literally "The Emperor's New Clothes". Everyone was falling all over and congratulating themselves on how fabulous everything was. Karl, of course, will never wear any of his outfits, so he's off scott free.
I have news for them. The clothes were ludicrous, absurd and unwearable.
Silly, silly, silly.
Thursday, December 27, 2018
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
Another first
Went to a neighbourhood party here the other night and met a middle-aged woman who had weaned herself off fentanyl after years of using it for pain. This was the first time I had met a fentanyl person. Her doctor had actually prescribed it so she thought she could safely use it. But it wasn't working, so instead of upping the dose, she went "cold turkey". "I did not sleep for two weeks," she told me. "It was a nightmare."
But she said her personality had actually returned. This is how so many get hooked on this drug. First, they are prescribed it and next they are hooked. "The doctors get paid to push it by the drug companies," said a friend who knows how all this skull drudgery works.
They are killing a lot of people.
But she said her personality had actually returned. This is how so many get hooked on this drug. First, they are prescribed it and next they are hooked. "The doctors get paid to push it by the drug companies," said a friend who knows how all this skull drudgery works.
They are killing a lot of people.
Monday, December 24, 2018
Only I....
....would venture into Walmart on Christmas Eve. What a "duh" thing to do! Yes, it was insane because December 24th is the day all men decide to do their Christmas shopping. That, my friends, is a fact. Men do not shop until they absolutely have to.
Just to double down on that dumb idea, I then decided it was a great day to go to the liquor store! Again, a hoarde of last-minute-ers was wandering or dashing around. Those of us who know what we need and where it is dash; the rest wander, trying to find something unique to bring for Christmas dinner. Dashing or not, it was still a wait-in-line event.
But, it got done.
I was in Walmart because I had second thoughts about the gift I had bought my granddaughter -- she of the dress-herself variety. And you never know what that means. She will absolutely not wear anything her mother or I suggest, so the adorable moose hat I had bought her in Banff a while ago seemed a long shot. It's so cute, but the "cute" type she is not. Although adorable, this one is not inclined to dress the part -- a trait I support because I am like that myself. And so was her mother. I could not dress her mother either and the apple has not fallen far from that tree. So I opted for a "Peppa Pig" top and leggings. Those she will wear.
If you know me, you know my style is my own. I do not -- and never have -- followed fashion. I wear what suits me and colour outside the lines now and then. I remember years ago, when we went to my late mother's for Sunday dinner, she remarked, "G-d, I certainly hope you don't go to the office dressed in some of the outfits you wear here."
I was shocked because I thought I always looked fabulous. And yes, I did go to the office in "those" outfits. But she was a very conventional and conservative dresser and I was/am not. I am a high-heel gal and always will be. Give me pink heels, or give me death.
On the food front, we were at a gathering the other evening and the hostess served Tortière. Being Westerners, no one knew why it was called what it was? I explained that it had originally been made with torte meat, a bird long extinct, but that now it had to be made with ground pork and beef. So, a few Westerners have been educated on the famous meat pie. Mission accomplished.
Merry Merry.
Just to double down on that dumb idea, I then decided it was a great day to go to the liquor store! Again, a hoarde of last-minute-ers was wandering or dashing around. Those of us who know what we need and where it is dash; the rest wander, trying to find something unique to bring for Christmas dinner. Dashing or not, it was still a wait-in-line event.
But, it got done.
I was in Walmart because I had second thoughts about the gift I had bought my granddaughter -- she of the dress-herself variety. And you never know what that means. She will absolutely not wear anything her mother or I suggest, so the adorable moose hat I had bought her in Banff a while ago seemed a long shot. It's so cute, but the "cute" type she is not. Although adorable, this one is not inclined to dress the part -- a trait I support because I am like that myself. And so was her mother. I could not dress her mother either and the apple has not fallen far from that tree. So I opted for a "Peppa Pig" top and leggings. Those she will wear.
If you know me, you know my style is my own. I do not -- and never have -- followed fashion. I wear what suits me and colour outside the lines now and then. I remember years ago, when we went to my late mother's for Sunday dinner, she remarked, "G-d, I certainly hope you don't go to the office dressed in some of the outfits you wear here."
I was shocked because I thought I always looked fabulous. And yes, I did go to the office in "those" outfits. But she was a very conventional and conservative dresser and I was/am not. I am a high-heel gal and always will be. Give me pink heels, or give me death.
On the food front, we were at a gathering the other evening and the hostess served Tortière. Being Westerners, no one knew why it was called what it was? I explained that it had originally been made with torte meat, a bird long extinct, but that now it had to be made with ground pork and beef. So, a few Westerners have been educated on the famous meat pie. Mission accomplished.
Merry Merry.
Sunday, December 23, 2018
My first enounter
For her work, she gets $2,000 a month. I am talking about a young pregnant woman who cut my hair the other day. "When are you due?" I asked. In February, but it's not mine, she told me. Taken aback, I was glad she filled me in before I had to ask what she meant. She is a surrogate for a gay couple in the US.
How cool! I took the opportunity to quiz her on how it all worked. Apparently, not even the egg is hers. The couple picked an egg donor, fertilized her egg and then froze the embryo(s) until they picked a suitable surrogate. They chose this young lady. "There is a two-minute window to implant the embryo after it is thawed," she told me. "Two days later, I knew it had taken because I started morning sickness." This couple already has a surrogate-bred boy, so the other male fertilized this baby -- which happens to be a girl.
"Do you think it will be difficult to part with the baby you've 'cooked' it for nine months?" I asked. "Not at all because it's not mine. I have even arranged to be a surrogate for another gay couple in Toronto after this one is born." Wow! I was amazed. Apparently, she went to Toronto for the implantation, but all her other tests are performed in the states, where she travels with a friend and enjoys the weekend. "They pay for everything, of course, and the couple attends all the appointments with me. If I were in the US, I would get $5,000 a month, but I'm not really doing it for the money. Sort of, but not really. I mean, why not give a couple a baby if I can?" She has a seven-year-old son of her own, but apart from a little morning sickness, is one of those happily-pregnant women who breeze though it all.
I left with a great haircut and a little more knowledge about how some babies are made. Being adopted, I began to existentially ponder my own fate, had this procedure been available to my parents. I would probably have been raised in an orphanage, instead of in the wonderful household and family in which I was.
How cool! I took the opportunity to quiz her on how it all worked. Apparently, not even the egg is hers. The couple picked an egg donor, fertilized her egg and then froze the embryo(s) until they picked a suitable surrogate. They chose this young lady. "There is a two-minute window to implant the embryo after it is thawed," she told me. "Two days later, I knew it had taken because I started morning sickness." This couple already has a surrogate-bred boy, so the other male fertilized this baby -- which happens to be a girl.
"Do you think it will be difficult to part with the baby you've 'cooked' it for nine months?" I asked. "Not at all because it's not mine. I have even arranged to be a surrogate for another gay couple in Toronto after this one is born." Wow! I was amazed. Apparently, she went to Toronto for the implantation, but all her other tests are performed in the states, where she travels with a friend and enjoys the weekend. "They pay for everything, of course, and the couple attends all the appointments with me. If I were in the US, I would get $5,000 a month, but I'm not really doing it for the money. Sort of, but not really. I mean, why not give a couple a baby if I can?" She has a seven-year-old son of her own, but apart from a little morning sickness, is one of those happily-pregnant women who breeze though it all.
I left with a great haircut and a little more knowledge about how some babies are made. Being adopted, I began to existentially ponder my own fate, had this procedure been available to my parents. I would probably have been raised in an orphanage, instead of in the wonderful household and family in which I was.
Thursday, December 20, 2018
P-correctness at its most silly
'Globe and Mail' columnist, Denise Balkisoon, has written a piece today attacking Doug Ford's declaration that free speech is to be implemented at all Ontarian universities. Unless it is hate speech, or against the law, students are now free to say what they like.
Wow! What an idea! Isn't that what universities are for? To let young people express their opinions and learn from each other -- whether they agree or not? Guess not, in Balkisoon's opinion.
This is the welcome antidote to what Allan Rock did at Ottawa U a number of years ago, when he succumbed to a gang of Arab protestors who did not want American, right-wing celebrity, Ann Coulter, to speak. They went wild and Rock caved. She was not permitted to speak. That was an outrage and I, for one, am glad Ford has decided to change the universities' channels.
When at Carleton, I took "Religion 101" and learned so much from other faiths. Would they have been banned because they did not follow common orthodoxy? Probably, but here we are, teaching about all faiths in a university. What's next? A modern-day Luther's head on a stake in the public thoroughfare? A heretic in a stockade in the town square?
People need to get a grip.
Wow! What an idea! Isn't that what universities are for? To let young people express their opinions and learn from each other -- whether they agree or not? Guess not, in Balkisoon's opinion.
This is the welcome antidote to what Allan Rock did at Ottawa U a number of years ago, when he succumbed to a gang of Arab protestors who did not want American, right-wing celebrity, Ann Coulter, to speak. They went wild and Rock caved. She was not permitted to speak. That was an outrage and I, for one, am glad Ford has decided to change the universities' channels.
When at Carleton, I took "Religion 101" and learned so much from other faiths. Would they have been banned because they did not follow common orthodoxy? Probably, but here we are, teaching about all faiths in a university. What's next? A modern-day Luther's head on a stake in the public thoroughfare? A heretic in a stockade in the town square?
People need to get a grip.
Monday, December 17, 2018
Ludicrous
So, the international climate groupies have wound up yet another conference in Poland, declaring they have solved all the problems. Really? No. Without fossil fuels, the world cannot operate. Alternative energy? Doesn't exist at the moment. Here they are, closing out yet another useless conference:
They look so self-satisfied, but have actually accomplished nothing. And there's our girl "Climate Barbie" on the left, looking so happy. Actually, it's very sad.
Also in the news today, the knashing-of-teeth-and-pulling of hair in Ontario because Doug Ford has slashed educational funding for special tutoring and native studies. About time. Why should taxpayers fund tutoring? And why should they fund native studies? We had a couple of our kids tutored and paid for it. That's how it's supposed to work. If kids are failing in class, they either fail, or the parents finance tutoring in the hope they might pass. As to native studies, that should be left to the natives.
Monday, December 10, 2018
It can be done
Apparently, "having" all is impossible. I beg to differ. Some of us actually "did" it all. Because we had to. Margaret Wente wrote a column about it in 'The Globe and Mail' the other day. She was talking about Michelle Obama, who said it couldn't be done. And this from a woman who had hot-and-cold running staff while she lived in the White House! If she couldn't manage "it", she failed.
The column referred to Cheryl Sandberg's book about "Leaning In". She advocated women's doing it all, which I actually did. Some of us actually did it "all". I was determined not to be penalized for the biological function of reproducing -- which women were. When I had a baby, I was in the office during labour and only left when the pains got a tad unbearable. Back then (1976), one got a job back, but not one's own job. We also did not get our pay; we got unemployment insurance and returned to work six months later to find someone else in our offices, doing our jobs.
We had to start all over.
To add more to my burden, I married a man with a complete b-tch for an ex-wife. Money hungry, she never let up being uncooperative and unfair -- even though the courts ordered her to share. A concept with which she was unfamiliar, unless it was with our money, which she could not get enough of. I found it wrong that my salary was factored into her spousal and child support, given the fact that I earned it and had to support my own two children with no contribution from their father. You'd think she'd have been ashamed to take money from another woman, but not on your life. The more she could grab, the better.
So, "lean in" is nothing new to me and my cohort. We invented the concept and are still leaning. I am grateful women now get a year off with pay. We did that for them, so when well-educated women elect to sit home with kids and meet for coffee, it pisses me off. They will regret it when they try to re-enter the workplace and find it has moved on without them, thank you very much.
_______________________________________
Switching gears, the latest lamentation is from the human rights gang who are up in arms because more blacks than Caucasians are being arrested. My question is, what are the crime rates for these groups? Of course, no journalist asks this obvious question. I mean, if more blacks are being arrested, they must be committing more crimes. No? It has to do with crime, not race, but G-d forbid anyone asks.
The column referred to Cheryl Sandberg's book about "Leaning In". She advocated women's doing it all, which I actually did. Some of us actually did it "all". I was determined not to be penalized for the biological function of reproducing -- which women were. When I had a baby, I was in the office during labour and only left when the pains got a tad unbearable. Back then (1976), one got a job back, but not one's own job. We also did not get our pay; we got unemployment insurance and returned to work six months later to find someone else in our offices, doing our jobs.
We had to start all over.
To add more to my burden, I married a man with a complete b-tch for an ex-wife. Money hungry, she never let up being uncooperative and unfair -- even though the courts ordered her to share. A concept with which she was unfamiliar, unless it was with our money, which she could not get enough of. I found it wrong that my salary was factored into her spousal and child support, given the fact that I earned it and had to support my own two children with no contribution from their father. You'd think she'd have been ashamed to take money from another woman, but not on your life. The more she could grab, the better.
So, "lean in" is nothing new to me and my cohort. We invented the concept and are still leaning. I am grateful women now get a year off with pay. We did that for them, so when well-educated women elect to sit home with kids and meet for coffee, it pisses me off. They will regret it when they try to re-enter the workplace and find it has moved on without them, thank you very much.
_______________________________________
Switching gears, the latest lamentation is from the human rights gang who are up in arms because more blacks than Caucasians are being arrested. My question is, what are the crime rates for these groups? Of course, no journalist asks this obvious question. I mean, if more blacks are being arrested, they must be committing more crimes. No? It has to do with crime, not race, but G-d forbid anyone asks.
Saturday, December 8, 2018
Stupider and stupider
Now the mayor elect of Hearst, Ontario, won't take the oath of office because he would have to swear allegiance to The Queen. Wouldn't you know it, he's a native and therefore blames everything that has ever happened to any native anywhere in Canada on Her Majesty.
Well, of course he does. Frankly, Hearst would be better off without this guy as mayor because there are a lot of municipal affairs stuff that is tied to the monarchy, which he would have to avoid. Geez, he wouldn't even be able to walk into a Royal Bank! Or how about the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce!? Another land mine! And for Gawd's sake, don't enter the Royal Canadian Legion for a nip or two! A frightening trigger for sure!
So that's the first "stupider". But the next is even "stupider". Apparently, the hapless Andrew Scheer actually addressed a gathering of the Assembly of First Nations the other day without a platform. Without a platform! He actually stood up there and told a questioner he'd have to wait until the Conservatives put his native platform together to find out where his position lay and what he would do as PM on the Indian file. I'm not kidding, that is what he did!
OMG! It's not as if he had accidentally bumped into a native leader on the street and was caught off guard. No, he decided to go to the meeting, stand at a podium and say, "I' don't know what I'll do if I am PM." Duh! This guy is going to be defeated for sure. And on that file, nothing will change. Harper tried reconciliation by having a smudging ceremony in the House of Commons to grovel and apologize to the natives. Didn't work. Then Trudeau comes into power, promising to focus on native issues -- even splits the department in two to make it "better" -- and still the natives aren't happy. They want to know how Scheer will do better than Trudeau and Harper to solve their "issues".
Here's a bulletin: The natives will never be satisfied. Never, ever, ever. No matter how much money we throw at them, they will never, ever, ever, ever be content to get on with their lives. Know why? Because they don't have to. So good luck with that.
Well, of course he does. Frankly, Hearst would be better off without this guy as mayor because there are a lot of municipal affairs stuff that is tied to the monarchy, which he would have to avoid. Geez, he wouldn't even be able to walk into a Royal Bank! Or how about the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce!? Another land mine! And for Gawd's sake, don't enter the Royal Canadian Legion for a nip or two! A frightening trigger for sure!
So that's the first "stupider". But the next is even "stupider". Apparently, the hapless Andrew Scheer actually addressed a gathering of the Assembly of First Nations the other day without a platform. Without a platform! He actually stood up there and told a questioner he'd have to wait until the Conservatives put his native platform together to find out where his position lay and what he would do as PM on the Indian file. I'm not kidding, that is what he did!
OMG! It's not as if he had accidentally bumped into a native leader on the street and was caught off guard. No, he decided to go to the meeting, stand at a podium and say, "I' don't know what I'll do if I am PM." Duh! This guy is going to be defeated for sure. And on that file, nothing will change. Harper tried reconciliation by having a smudging ceremony in the House of Commons to grovel and apologize to the natives. Didn't work. Then Trudeau comes into power, promising to focus on native issues -- even splits the department in two to make it "better" -- and still the natives aren't happy. They want to know how Scheer will do better than Trudeau and Harper to solve their "issues".
Here's a bulletin: The natives will never be satisfied. Never, ever, ever. No matter how much money we throw at them, they will never, ever, ever, ever be content to get on with their lives. Know why? Because they don't have to. So good luck with that.
Wednesday, December 5, 2018
Except we're not there
In the Punjab, I mean. We're in the Parliament of Canada. "It's normal in the Punjabi culture to lend money to friends and family," said a ridiculous assistant to the disgraced Raj Grewal, trying to defend why Grewal won't reveal who has handed him the millions needed to pay off his astounding gambling debts.
Obviously, those giving him the cash want him to remain in Parliament, representing them for their own self interest. I mean, that's obvious. But in Canada, we don't do things like that and he should resign, as he said he would. Guess he can't forego that $170,000 salary -- that would buy a lot of poker chips.
It wasn't that long ago Canada was a very puritanical society, maybe three generations. I can well remember my grandmother and great aunt frowning on even drinking tea, let alone liquor. At Christmas, my father and uncles would sneak out to the back porch to have a snort or two, out of sight of Aunt May. "Would you like me to wave the tea bag over your cup of hot water, Aunt May?" one of my uncles used to ask. As to dancing? Out of the question. These are the foundations upon which our Parliamentary democracy was built and stands today.
Honesty, frugality and transparency. Not money laundering and under-the-table payoffs. Frankly, we're still fairly puritanical underneath all the sex, drugs and rock and roll.
As I always say, if you smell a rat there's a rat to be smelled. A few years ago at one of my dinner parties, a friend speculated about a member of our tennis club perhaps being a Nazi because he hailed from Argentina, but was blonde and blue-eyed. "You can't call him a Nazi," one of the other guests said. "Of course he's a Nazi," piped up another. As I said, a rat to be smelled.
Obviously, those giving him the cash want him to remain in Parliament, representing them for their own self interest. I mean, that's obvious. But in Canada, we don't do things like that and he should resign, as he said he would. Guess he can't forego that $170,000 salary -- that would buy a lot of poker chips.
It wasn't that long ago Canada was a very puritanical society, maybe three generations. I can well remember my grandmother and great aunt frowning on even drinking tea, let alone liquor. At Christmas, my father and uncles would sneak out to the back porch to have a snort or two, out of sight of Aunt May. "Would you like me to wave the tea bag over your cup of hot water, Aunt May?" one of my uncles used to ask. As to dancing? Out of the question. These are the foundations upon which our Parliamentary democracy was built and stands today.
Honesty, frugality and transparency. Not money laundering and under-the-table payoffs. Frankly, we're still fairly puritanical underneath all the sex, drugs and rock and roll.
As I always say, if you smell a rat there's a rat to be smelled. A few years ago at one of my dinner parties, a friend speculated about a member of our tennis club perhaps being a Nazi because he hailed from Argentina, but was blonde and blue-eyed. "You can't call him a Nazi," one of the other guests said. "Of course he's a Nazi," piped up another. As I said, a rat to be smelled.
Tuesday, December 4, 2018
How annoying
"Christian tradition seems more and more out of step with our wonderfully multicultural, multi-ethnic, multi-faceted society." Honest to God, that's how Kathe Lemon, editor of Calgary's 'Avenue Magazine', described this major Christian feast in her editorial piece this month. Christmas. Out-of-step with society. How annoying, she said.
What a crock.
This is how far out-of-whack things have become. Now, Christmas isn't Christmas because others don't celebrate it. I am soooooo sick of it. In today's 'Herald', the front page had a lovely picture of Hanukkah. They didn't call it the lighting of "Holliday candles". They didn't call it the celebration of "Seasonal candles". They called it the lighting of the Hanukkah candles. Good on them, but why has Christmas been banished and defamed?! It's the same with Eid. These dates are fixed and revered, but not Christmas. No siree.
It's a politically-correct outrage. And whenever I see "Xmas", it offends me. Does that mean we have "X-ed" Christmas? I guess it does.
"It is that element of feeling forced to take part in a celebration, even if it is neither meaningful nor fun for you, that makes Christmas distasteful to many." That is how this idiotic editor ended her BS editorial. If Christmas is so "distasteful", why does everyone celebrate and love it? Last time I checked, December 25th was actually Christmas Day. Let's stop allowing people to stomp all over it.
Stand up for Christ and Christmas!
p.s. I didn't correct her grammatical mistakes (above); she needs to be outed.
What a crock.
This is how far out-of-whack things have become. Now, Christmas isn't Christmas because others don't celebrate it. I am soooooo sick of it. In today's 'Herald', the front page had a lovely picture of Hanukkah. They didn't call it the lighting of "Holliday candles". They didn't call it the celebration of "Seasonal candles". They called it the lighting of the Hanukkah candles. Good on them, but why has Christmas been banished and defamed?! It's the same with Eid. These dates are fixed and revered, but not Christmas. No siree.
It's a politically-correct outrage. And whenever I see "Xmas", it offends me. Does that mean we have "X-ed" Christmas? I guess it does.
"It is that element of feeling forced to take part in a celebration, even if it is neither meaningful nor fun for you, that makes Christmas distasteful to many." That is how this idiotic editor ended her BS editorial. If Christmas is so "distasteful", why does everyone celebrate and love it? Last time I checked, December 25th was actually Christmas Day. Let's stop allowing people to stomp all over it.
Stand up for Christ and Christmas!
p.s. I didn't correct her grammatical mistakes (above); she needs to be outed.
Monday, December 3, 2018
Waaaaay too late
So, Notley has finally quit playing cutsie/footsie with Trudeau and is literally climbing on the cow catcher to get oil moving. There she was yesterday, declaring the oil price disaster a crisis which had to be acted upon "now". What in Gawd's name has she been doing for the past three years while everything here went for a sh-t?! Did you just look up and notice we are effed?
Frankly, it's too late -- for both her and the industry. Jason Kenney is hard on her heels and gaining and he knows how to deal with Ottawa. She obviously has no clue, having fiddled around with the vacant Trudeau far too long. As a "feminist", you'd think he'd be thrilled to work with a female premier and energy minister, to name a few of the women running this province.....into the ground.
But the equation is simple: Alberta gets the shaft because very few people vote Liberal. And because they don't, we get the shaft. It's as simple as that. No votes no pipelines. No pipelines no votes.
By the way, Trudeau is no more a "feminist" than the most dedicated male chauvinist pig you can think of. All his female appointments are tokens and most are in the wrong jobs because of it. Climate Barbie heads my list of incompetents, but there are many others. The way he treats women in photo ops makes it obvious he looks down on them, just as did the father who raised him. Tudeau senior viewed Margaret as a uterus for procreation....but don't get me started on the pathetic Margaret, a disgrace to her gender. Women in my cohort were the real feminists, paving the way for those who followed to be allowed to have children and get back to work. We didn't all burn bras -- never a winning strategy in my view. We pushed forward with employers and governments and succeeded.
How hard is that to figure out? The scary part is that idiotic, vacuous Trudeau and his unoccupied brain are polling ahead of Andrew Scheer. The Conservatives should have voted Bernier as leader because he would at least have stirred the pot with fervour. But no, they opted for Scheer who in fact looks and acts like a Pollyanna in spite of the mess in which he is standing. As B's grandfather used to say, "That poor chap stepped right in it."
Oh me, oh my. All I can say is thank G-d for my pension.
Frankly, it's too late -- for both her and the industry. Jason Kenney is hard on her heels and gaining and he knows how to deal with Ottawa. She obviously has no clue, having fiddled around with the vacant Trudeau far too long. As a "feminist", you'd think he'd be thrilled to work with a female premier and energy minister, to name a few of the women running this province.....into the ground.
But the equation is simple: Alberta gets the shaft because very few people vote Liberal. And because they don't, we get the shaft. It's as simple as that. No votes no pipelines. No pipelines no votes.
By the way, Trudeau is no more a "feminist" than the most dedicated male chauvinist pig you can think of. All his female appointments are tokens and most are in the wrong jobs because of it. Climate Barbie heads my list of incompetents, but there are many others. The way he treats women in photo ops makes it obvious he looks down on them, just as did the father who raised him. Tudeau senior viewed Margaret as a uterus for procreation....but don't get me started on the pathetic Margaret, a disgrace to her gender. Women in my cohort were the real feminists, paving the way for those who followed to be allowed to have children and get back to work. We didn't all burn bras -- never a winning strategy in my view. We pushed forward with employers and governments and succeeded.
How hard is that to figure out? The scary part is that idiotic, vacuous Trudeau and his unoccupied brain are polling ahead of Andrew Scheer. The Conservatives should have voted Bernier as leader because he would at least have stirred the pot with fervour. But no, they opted for Scheer who in fact looks and acts like a Pollyanna in spite of the mess in which he is standing. As B's grandfather used to say, "That poor chap stepped right in it."
Oh me, oh my. All I can say is thank G-d for my pension.
Sunday, December 2, 2018
Can I wear shoes?
That's what I asked the hostess in an email before we went to her abode for dinner last night. She said yes. The reason I had asked was because the one other time we had visited for coffee, I had noticed how precious everything was. The floors are special, she had told me. "And don't walk on the carpets, please." Seriously? Unless one can walk on air, where else are we supposed to walk?
These people are acquaintances of B's; I don't really know them. But he wanted us to go, so I agreed. Now, there's a reason this blog is entitled "The View from Hats and Heels." I love my high heels. So when we arrived, I took off my boots and pulled my shoes out. These classics -- black suede high heels, which I love:
These people are acquaintances of B's; I don't really know them. But he wanted us to go, so I agreed. Now, there's a reason this blog is entitled "The View from Hats and Heels." I love my high heels. So when we arrived, I took off my boots and pulled my shoes out. These classics -- black suede high heels, which I love:
When I began to put them on, she gasped. "Oh, you can't wear those on our soft-wood floors." How can you have floors made of soft wood no one can walk on? She herself was wearing the ugliest flats in Alberta, but I was stuck. I almost said, "We're leaving," but I removed my shoes, rendering my outfit ridiculous and leaving me to pad around in stocking feet all night.
What is wrong with people?
These are people who live in a $2 million house (most of their neighbours are Flames hockey players, so you can imagine) filled with every expensive knick-knack, painting, sculpture and doo-dad you could possibly acquire in ten lifetimes. So many, in fact, you can't see the forest for the trees! And they have two of everything -- two living rooms, two dining rooms and a myriad of other "twos". But rather than sit in the "good" living room, we were ushered to the basement rec room. "What can I get you to drink?" asked our host. Things were looking up. "I'll have a scotch, please" I said. "Oh, we don't have any scotch," he replied. "We don't drink it, so I don't buy it." Really? Well, why did you ask what I'd like to drink?!
Do you have any vodka? No. Well, what do you have? Wine. I don't know about you, but every bar should have at a minimum a supply of scotch, vodka, rye, bourbon, gin and rum -- particularly if you invite guests and aren't sure what they drink. Oh, and did I mention they have a bar set up that rivals Montreal's Ritz Hotel's? Too bad it's bare.
So, there I was with wine -- but not the wine I had brought. No, a sweet, German variety that didn't work for me. Again, I almost offered to dash to the liquor store and buy some scotch, but I resisted the urge. Struggling through cocktails -- such as they were -- I was looking forward to a delicious dinner, the hostess being of Polish heritage. I felt sure Polish would be on the menu. But no. Instead she produced shepherd's pie and salad in a bag -- something I throw together on a lack lustre Tuesday. Hopes dashed again. And were we permitted in the "good" dining room? No, we ate in the kitchen. I guess the special one is reserved for Elizabeth and Phillip.
Now, I have had a few interesting jobs in my career. I worked for a big Toronto publisher (just like 'Mad Men'), IBM, DuPont, Expo '86, the original Free Trade Task Force and the team that developed the GST. Mildly important here and there. But as our host was one of those men who never talks to "the wife", only the husband, no one at the table learned about any of my adventures -- and there were plenty! However, he, being Chilean, helpfully instructed me on how fabulous everything was in Chile (sorry, "Cheelay"). To these people, Canada is a country of convenience -- and health care -- sort of like the shipping industry views Libya. Initially, I tried to inject a tidbit or two, but gave up quickly. There was not stopping this freight train of enchantments about Chilean delights and joys. Frankly, I would have preferred to have talked about the "con carne" variety, but alas, no luck.
While they were complaining bitterly about the fact they couldn't get a British pension at the same time as they collected their pensions here (I mean, come on!), I kept muttering to B in a stage whisper, but neither host nor hostess heard a word, so intent were they on Poland and Chile. B, however, knew my Irish was up because after so many years together, husbands know when that happens. We finally took our leave and as you can imagine, B unsurprisingly got an earful all the way home.
That, folks, is my swan song with those people.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)