Open Letters

Dear Paul Gross,

Thank you so much for making Passchendaele. By making this movie that finally shows Canadian soldiers in WWI combat, you have single-handedly given Social Studies teachers in this country new material to show how and why Canada became her own nation during that conflict, and now students will finally "get it".

I can't tell you how excited I was when I first saw the trailer and shrieked to my husband, "They're CANADIAN! Do you SEE that? CANADIAN!"

Oh, and now I have a teensy crush on you. Hope you don't mind. (wink)

* * *

Dear Barack Obama,

I am glad you won. Please stay safe.

* * *

Dear Betsy (aka My Car),

Although the driver's side visor falling off and landing in my lap was not without its amusement, I am worried about you. Between the noisy wheel bearing and the mysterious rhythmic squeaking, I'm getting quite concerned. Hold on, old girl.

* * *

To the Moron Who Cut Me Off in Traffic Yesterday and Then Flipped Me the Bird,

Your concept of "cause and effect" seems a little flawed.

* * *

To My Right Ankle,

Keep getting better. You're coming along nicely.

* * *

To My Blog Readers,

I'll try to do better at keeping you entertained.

And I'm getting closer to 100 found geocaches.

MAMMA MIA!

I decided that, this afternoon, I was going to treat myself to a movie. Not since 1997-1998 (those Titanic days) have I gone to a movie by myself, but I missed out last week when the girls went to see Mamma Mia, and I was dying to see it. Since it's not Hubby's kind of movie (no spaceships or explosions, and, horrors, it's a musical!), I'd resigned myself to seeing it alone.

Got to the theatre at about 2:20 for the 2:30 PM showing, and as I was trying to get some night vision and find a seat in the dark, I heard someone call my name. It turned out to be my friend Lynn who was also there by herself, so it turned into an impromptu girls afternoon out!

I hadn't seen the stage production (Lynn had seen a couple), and I knew almost nothing about this movie except that it was a musical featuring the music of ABBA and that Colin Firth was in it. (You may remember my infatuation with the fabulous Mr. Firth. It took a bit of a beating as a result of The Last Legion, but a viewing of Love, Actually quickly set things to rights.)

I've long been a fan of ABBA (since grade five, for certain, but probably even before that), so I knew that there was a lot of potential. But, ladies and gentlemen, this movie blew me away.

Now, it's never going to win an Oscar based on its "high drama", but I was really, really impressed. Meryl Streep can sing! It's official -- as if it were ever in doubt --I want to be Meryl when I grow up. I especially loved "Money, Money, Money" and "Dancing Queen". You can really tell she had fun filming this, and I had so much fun watching it.

I was afraid, at the very beginning, that Amanda Seyfried would get on my nerves before the end of the film, but while her Sophie came dangerously close to being cloying, she didn't step over the line.

The weakest link, as I'm sure most people know by now, was Pierce Brosnan. But in a way, his hesitant singing and "earnest" acting really worked for me. It might have been unintentionally humourous, but I enjoyed watching him. And hey -- it took guts to be so "un-Bond". Kudos to him for that!

My favourite "dad", of course, was Harry. I'm a little worried that Colin Firth might be getting a bit too good at playing the "former rebel trapped in a bank job" roles, but I liked Harry.

My favourite scene (aka "recipe for a swoon")?

Colin Firth, on a boat, with a guitar. I was a little nervous when Harry opened his mouth to sing, but you know what? He sounds exactly the way I thought he would, and I thought it was very sweet.

I can't wait to go back to see this movie again, and I was pleasantly surprised to find myself enjoying the soundtrack even more than I loved the original versions. I usually don't like covers, but they sound fresher, happier, somehow.

Next time I go, though, I'm going to have a helluva time not dancing. Racing to our cars in the torrential rain following the movie, Lynn and I were practically skipping, and I've been chair-dancing ever since.

No spoilers, please ...

I decided to record "Grey's Anatomy" last night because I knew I wouldn't be able to stay awake until the end.

Resistance is futile.

We have been assimilated.

The Borg Collective known more officially as the U S of A is only a hop, skip and a jump away from acquiring its 51st state. It's Manifest Destiny whether they know it or not.

It's Super Tuesday in the United States, and that's what is all over the tube tonight. I was expecting this, so I plugged myself into iTunes for most of the evening, with the idea of watching The National newscast on CBC (that's the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation for those not "in the know") when it came time to turn off the lights and let Hubby sleep. The CBC is, after all, the heart and soul of all that is Canadian, and its main raison d'être is to celebrate and preserve the culture of this great country of ours.

Peter Mansbridge, our newsanchor, was live from Los Angeles. At the bottom of the screen were little tickers of who was winning what state, and for the first ten minutes, with correspondents scattered throughout the States, it was all about Super Tuesday. Then we had about four minutes about our disgraced former prime minister (the one I'm still surprised didn't become our first assassination, so beloved was he by the time he stepped down), and then less than a minute about the Canadian soldiers who were wounded in Afghanistan. Then it was to commercial, and when they came back, it was all big splashy graphics of elephants and donkeys and even the freaking seal of the President of the United States.

All of this for an election that is nine months away and in a different country! I was nauseated, and that only got worse as I remembered the CBC is a crown corporation and this was my tax dollars at work. Why don't we just install a 24-hour Britney-Surveillance-Cam while we're at it?

Personally, I prefer the Canadian method of elections to the eighteen-month saga the Americans endure.

Governor-General: Would you like some tea? And what brings you by Rideau Hall today?

Prime Minister: Yes, please. And, since we're doing well in the polls, I'd like to call an election for five weeks from Monday. May I have permission?

Governor-General: As the Queen's Representative in Canada, that sounds good to me. One lump or two?

Neither the Canadian nor the American system is perfect, but at least ours makes for better TV. And, in case you're wondering, I tried switching from CBC to CTVNewsNet, our other national news network. It was almost exactly the same, but with duller graphics.

I'm not an idiot -- I know that because of our close proximity and ties to the US that whoever replaces George Dubya will ultimately have an effect up here. But this is ridiculous. Is it any wonder that when I asked a class of grade nines last week how we were different from Americans, it took them a minute or two to come up with answers beyond "We're smarter than they are?"

So, how did I get away from the passive Americanization of my soul last night?

I did what any self-respecting Canadian would do.

I turned on the hockey game.

Another low-key evening

So, Zaph is passed out at the foot of the bed, Piper is lying on her bed, chomping away on a rawhide chewie, Stormy is in the kitchen, and Hubby is in his office. Just another low-key evening at the McLeans'. I suspect Hubby will be in before long -- we've been watching Weeds from the beginning of the series, and we've been averaging about three episodes a night. It's very well done, but I've had the theme song stuck in my head for several days now, and when you're sitting in a silent room for two hours at a time, that can get a little trying.

(Oh, here he comes now.)

School is pretty quiet, literally. I've been supervising exams, which is always an interesting gig. I try not to stare at the kids, but some of them look so stressed out that I just want to pat them on the head and tell them that it will all be okay. Even the ones who have sent squadrons of paper airplanes aloft in my presence -- yes, even them.

Okay, time to watch Weeds. More later. Have a good one.

Detox, Day One

I feel like I've been drowning in negativity for months now, perhaps even as long as a year. Right now I'm stressed out of my mind, to the point that I'm clenching my jaw all night long and am now suffering from headaches 24/7. Something's gotta change.

While I can't do a whole lot more about my financial stresses (Curse you, car! Curse you, clenching jaw requiring expensive dental apparatus!) than I'm already doing (I have a part-time job interview tomorrow), I have decided to eliminate as much negativity out of my life as possible. I am planning on basically detoxing my mind, body, and spirit.

First up is my mind. I have declared a moratorium on the negative stuff I spend far too many hours watching on television. I fall asleep watching CNN. I nap watching true crime shows. All of this has got to be taking a toll on my psyche at some level. And so -- I'm cutting it out. The only news I am allowing myself is the news on the radio when I get up each morning, and the local news if I'm expecting someone I know personally to be featured. That's it. Everything else is potentially too hard on the head.

I also have plans for detoxing my body but it makes more sense to feature that on Workin' with Frank and Jim.

I'll let you know how the experiment goes.

Is it just me?

I'm one of those people who probably watches too much CNN. Having said that, there is one issue that I'm having trouble with, and that's taking anchor John Roberts seriously.

It's not his fault that every Canadian who was a teen in the 80s immediately pictures him as the mulleted MuchMusic veejay J D Roberts.

I'm just wondering if Erica Ehm will be replacing Paula Zahn any time soon.

I love this!

There has finally been an ad that manages to both capture my attention and warm the cockles of my heart:

The MacGyver Mastercard ad.

Oh, how I loved MacGyver in the 80s. It was a bit of an obsession, really, as anyone who knew me then can attest. This ad made me really, really giddy. And I take back anything I might have murmured about Richard Dean Anderson not having aged well. Put him in Mac's clothes, and he's still HOT!

(sigh)

Just a few things on my shelf ...

Create your own Movie List.

A New Guilty Pleasure

I watched "Skating with Celebrities" last night, and I have to tell you -- I am HOOKED! From the time I was a little girl, until the early 1990s, I was an armchair figure skater. I wanted desperately to learn to figure skate (I skate on my face, my knees, my backside ...) and I followed all of my favourites with intense enthusiasm.

So when I heard about this reality TV show, I thought, "Yes! This oughtta be good!" I, of course, was not watching for the "celebrities" (one of whom I've never even heard of), but to see people like Kurt Browning and Lloyd Eisler try to skate with people who might skate like me.

I thoroughly enjoyed last night's program. The only thing is, I really wish they had chosen celebrities all with the same amount of non-experience on the ice. (Read: hockey people and childhood figure skaters need not apply.) I think previously-acquired stability on ice gives them an unfair advantage.

So ... it's been awhile.

I haven't updated this blog in a few thousand years, it seems, so I might as well do it now while I'm thinking of it. :)

What's new:
- I didn't win the Do It Digi Amazing Race, but it was a blast to play.
- I was mad at the final two people in Big Brother 6 and didn't want either one of them to win it.
- I've been hooked on the show Taking It Off, on the Life Network. Now that the season is over, I miss it already.
- I've lost 25 pounds since the first of August.
- I've been sidelined by some sort of "mystery illness" that is seriously interfering with my life. I have a lymph node growing out of the side of my face, and I can't seem to stay awake longer than a few hours at a time. And I want it gone already.

I guess that's about the extent of it. Life goes on.

34 Days 'Til School Begins ...

That's according to the ticker on the school district page, and that's if you're a student. The regular teachers, of course, are back much earlier than that. And the supply teachers? Who knows?

I cannot believe how quickly this summer is going. I feel like I've done nothing with it, really. I'm working on things, but have not yet completed any of them. I guess I'll just have to acknowledge that they are HUGE projects that take time, and do my best to get them out of the way before Labour Day.

Misty the bunny is still here. I'm having difficulty reaching the bunny lady, with it being a long weekend.

We went to see Stealth today, and although I found it very predictable, I still enjoyed it. I think my favourite part, besides the obvious homages to HAL, was the uber-geek who just happened to be headquartered in Seattle. I can't imagine who they might have been thinking of.

I went to karaoke last Friday but I did not sing. The ones who did blew me away. I think, if I ever do it, I'm going to have to go first to set the bar low for people like me. :)

I want Bill Hemmer back.

As a self-admitted CNN junkie, I tend to have it on in the background when I'm doing things at home. Puttering around the house, playing on the computer, or taking an afternoon nap -- "CNN is there".

On June 17, the day after my last day in the classroom this year, I turned on CNN's "American Morning" only to hear Soledad O'Brien tell the viewers that it was her co-anchor's last day. Firing up Google, I learned that Miles O'Brien was being moved to AM and Bill Hemmer was, basically, leaving.

I have always found Bill Hemmer to be warm, engaging, sympathetic, and funny. He always seemed to be genuinely concerned about the people and events he was covering, and seemed to have a broad range of general knowledge. Add to this the fact that I found him easy on the eyes and I thought, you know, I'm really going to miss that guy.

Given this, and the fact that I'm the kind of person who really doesn't like change, the idea of O'Brien-Squared each and every morning was not something to which I looked forward with joy. Besides, I liked Miles O'Brien well enough but have always found him to be a bit of a broken record when it comes to the space program. I think it's fabulous that CNN has someone who knows that much about it, and can relate it to the general public in terms that most people can understand, but, at the same time, does he offer anything else? I decided to wait and see.

Tomorrow will mark four weeks since Bill Hemmer left. Miles O'Brien is, of course, at Cape Canaveral, waiting for Discovery to launch. Yes, I know that it's the first shuttle launch since Columbia was lost two years ago (which I watched live, by the way, as Miles commentated). But when they postponed the launch yesterday, I hoped I'd get a bit of a breather. No such luck. More Miles, more space, more in-depth analysis of the feelings of each and every person who manufactures all of the widgets that make up the shuttle. Please do not misunderstand me -- I believe that the space program deserves coverage, and I'm probably a little more interested in it than the average person, but making up stories in order to justify his being there is really nauseating. Is it really important that I know there are eleven technical meetings today? If the shuttle is delayed until September, is he going to stay there until it flies?

On top of all of the space stuff, Miles has been in his glory with Hurricane Dennis, talking over the meteorologists with regards to the weather as if it were vitally important that he impart his own knowledge on the situation. And then there's the inevitable "And how will this affect the shuttle launch?" If I'd been one of the weather folks, I would have choked him by now. Especially the New Yorkers, since he's made more than a few cracks about the people of NY. (Maybe he wants to go home to Atlanta just as much as I want him to?)

In the past four weeks, aside from the London terror attacks, American Morning has been, in many ways "The Miles O'Brien Space and Weather Show". Soledad doesn't seem herself at all, the ditching of Jack Cafferty, and the changing of the set to one of "hard news" have all added to the cold, clinical feeling that now greets morning viewers. To be frank, it's painful to watch. It's the difference between waking up to the radio and that gawd-awful shrieking alarm that they can hear one city away. I hate it.

Bill Hemmer, where are you?

See: Bill Hemmer's Last Hurrah

So Long, and Thanks For All the Fish ...

So, I just got home from the movies, and if this rain keeps up, I'm going to wish I were a singing dolphin, instead of just having my head full of them!

I've never read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The closest I've come (besides having an uncle named Douglas Adams) was when, trying to figure out why my future husband referred to my dog as a "hoopy frood" (spelling, anyone?), I sat down with the book. I didn't get far.

We went to see it in the theatre today, and I guess all I really needed to get involved was a bunch of dolphins singing Broadway-style. Of course! Why didn't I think of that? (Of course, I now have the dolphins singing one line incessantly in my head, but hey. It's the gift that keeps on giving.)

I enjoyed it. Maybe enough to give the book another whirl.