On the political front...

This could be correspondence, but it's too damn stupid for me to get into my correspondence groove.

The Quebec government has decided to end the immigration problems in Quebec. Immigrants will have to sign a "contract" promising to respect our values, i.e. learning French, equality between men and women, the fact that religion and the state are completely separate etc. or they won't be allowed into Quebec. (You can read about it here if you are so inclined)

Of course opinion is divided. Some say it doesn't go far enough. Some say it goes way to far.

I say it's probably the most stupid thing they've come up with in a long time. Because we have an election coming up. And they want to gain the vote of people who are afraid of immigration - 'cause we all know everything will go to hell if too many of the big, bad OTHERS!!! are allowed in.

Of course this is a "moral" contact and is in no way legally binding.

So people will sign. Basically you can compare it to a messenger waybill. You sign for the package and do whatever he hell you want with it afterward.

What exactly is the point of all this? Morons. All of them. And now they want my vote...

For this I pay taxes. For this I give them half my hard earned money.

It's a good thing ridicule isn't a deadly disease. Because, damn, there'd be a helluva lot of dead politicians littering the province.

Life with a Cook

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Mr. Jazz cooks. He pretty much does all the cooking at our house. And Mr. Jazz is incapable of following a recipe.

Proof?

Last night's truly delicious dinner - pasta sautéed with lemon, veggies and arugula - started out in one of my magazines as a recipe for carrots sautéed in lemon butter and oregano.

I rest my case.
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And here we go again....

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Rumour, which is growing ever stronger, has it that on November 5th they will announce a provincial election in Quebec for early December (somewhere around the 8th).

The Parti Québecois (sovereignists) is bitching, saying the liberals are calling an election because they're up in the polls and think their minority government might be voted in as a majority this time. (Well duh. Like you wouldn't do the same thing? Isn't that part of the strategy? Morons)

The Action Democratique (the right) are starting to utter the word constitution again. (Oy).

The Liberals - well what can you say about Charest's liberals. They and the PQ are alike in that they're also morons - but don't tell either group that because comparison will insult them both.

AND...

The Federal campaign posters haven't even all been taken down yet.

Election weariness has struck.

Fuck 'em all.
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Karma's a bitch

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Some people have bad hair days.

I'm having a bad hair life.

No doubt in another lifetime I did something horrific that had to do with hair.

Maybe I was a Buddhist nun and refused to shave my head?

In this lifetime I'd love nothing more than to go around with a cue ball head.

Karma, she is indeed a bitch.

Friday Correspondence

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Dear Scotts (or Kleenex or whoever):

It was no doubt a brilliant marketing coup, this supposed addition of lotion to your tissues in order to saver our poor little noses from being rubbed raw. However, I must say that I really never saw any difference between the lotion bearing tissue and the regular kind, and so, doubted that the lotion was really there.

I wish to extend my most humble apologies for doubting you.

A colleague passed me a tissue so I could wipe my glasses. It was a "lotion tissue". My glasses ended up hopelessly smeared.

I ended up terribly annoyed and wondering exactly what it is you put on tissues and if I breathe it will it cause more harm than good?

Perhaps a disclaimer on the boxes saying do not use to wipe glasses? Because really? Bleh.

Apologetically still,

Jazz

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Dear Jazz,

There is really no point in denying the end of summer, it just makes those first few flakes of falling (alliteration no less!) snow that much more traumatizing.

Nevertheless, you will no doubt go deep into denial again next year. As you always do.

In this, you are a moron.

Eye rollingly,

Jazz

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Dear door manufacturers,

Could you possibly find a way of making plate glass doors a touch less hard - or a touch less transparent? Walking smack into one makes my head hurt.

But at least this time I didn't break it.

Pleadingly,

Jazz

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Dear Colleagues,

If I had wanted to mother people, I would have had children.

If I had any maternal instinct at all, I would be a mom.

If I had an ounce of "nice" flowing through my body, I might take pity on you. One would think that having known me for all this time you would know I'm not big on "the nice".

As it stands, playing mom to colleagues doesn't even make it onto my list of things to do. I have too much work of my own to do yours too.

I am buried in work. Of course it isn't as important as yours, we all know that, but still, I have to get it done. And so...

I will not do your timesheets, I will not do your expenses, I will not order your lunch.

When I show you how to do something ('cause yeah, there are lots of things I know that you don't), or where to find some template in the server, please take note, it's really draining to have to repeat it every damn time you need this information. Five repetitions stretches the bounds of nice for me. Keep it up and I might have to kill you.

You are not kindergartners. You are adults. You drive cars, you have kids, you might even pay your bills for all I know.

Get your shit together and take responsibility for yourselves because. I. WILL. NOT. DO. IT. FOR. YOU.

Unmaternally

Jazz
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So much for denial

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Monday we turned on the heat.

On my way to work this morning it was snowing. Just a little and not enough to stay on the ground but still.

IT.

WAS.

SNOWING.

In October!

Denial no longer seems to be an option.



* Photo from the Flicker strem of Greenhem
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Denial? Moi?

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I'm not a big fan of fall and winter. No, let's rephrase that. I loathe winter with a vengeance. Winter was imagined as an especially refined torture for people like me. I believe one does not burn in hell, rather one stands naked for all eternity on the corner of St. Catherine and Greene streets in -30 degree weather with the wind roaring down off Mount Royal into the wind tunnel that is Greene. Even bundled up that is my concept of hell. Yep. Indeed.

Needless to say, I love summer, it's heat, the naked skin, the drinking of margaritas on the balcony, the flirty skirts, the sandals, that lovely "sunsweat" smell after spending a day outside. Even the humidity doesn't much bother me. And when it does, I just think of Green and Cat in winter. I wish it went on forever. And ever and ever. Unfortunately, I don't live in a country where I can actually do the summer year round thing. Maybe the next US president will annex Canada and I can go live in Arizona. I'm sure Palin already thinks we're a US state.

But summer does not last forever. Nope.

It. Does. Not.

Violet's post of today, with her talk of cold weather and sweaters made me realize that, once again I'm deep in denial.

Denial that winter is indeed coming.

Denial that the summer clothes have to be hidden away and switched over for woolens and tweed.

Denial that "margaritas on the balcony" season is OVAH!

Damn.
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Well...

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I lied. That post back a while was not the last political post. On this "day after" I do have something to say about the Canadian election.










It's over and done with. We're stuck with another minority government, and thus elections in 1.5 to two years probably...

Of course a minority Conservative government is better than a majority Conservative government so I guess that's good.

Things I've noticed this morning:

• In all the radio interviews I've heard, if the candidate lost (whatever his party), it's the other parties' fault - never his or her own. How is that?
• The fact that the Liberals lost lots of seats is the Conservatives' fault.
• The fact that the Conservatives made zero gains in Quebec is the fault of the Bloc and Liberals' scare tactics.
• The Bloc MPs are refusing to speak to the press until Daddy Duceppe talks first. That is beyond ridiculous.
  

Jeezus - just admit you used the wrong strategy, that your party (whichever it is) has its faults and that you're just not "speaking to people".

The whole thing reminds me of a sixth grade schoolyard scuffle. "Mr. Principal, it's his fault! He started it!"

Grow the hell up!
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A meme for the brain dead like me.

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Rachel posted this meme on her blog recently and it was just too good to pass up... We all like to eat, but how far are we willing to go when it comes to experimentation? None of us are likely to be on Survivor anytime soon, so we won't have to eat yucky stuff in order to stay in the game, but still, one man's yuck is another man's yum, isn't it?

So here are da rools:

From the parent post at Very Good Taste

Below is a list of 100 things that I think every good omnivore should have tried at least once in their life. The list includes fine food, strange food, everyday food and even some pretty bad food - but a good omnivore should really try it all. Don’t worry if you haven’t, mind you; neither have I, though I’ll be sure to work on it. Don’t worry if you don’t recognise everything in the hundred, either; Wikipedia has the answers.

Here’s what I want you to do:
1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

Rachel adds another dimension to it:

• Colour in bold red the items you LOVED, and bold lime green items you HATED

So, without any further ado, Jazz's take on

The Omnivore's Hundred

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses (I'm not a huge cheese fan at the best of times, strong stinky cheese even less)
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi (but I definitely prefer sweet lassi)
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects (There's a tasting every year at the Montreal insectarium, one of these days I'm going to go)
43. Phaal (I like quite spicy, but there are limits)
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more (I almost crossed this out, since I don't like whiskey, but hey, maybe this would work for me!)
46. Fugu (I have this thing about surviving my meals)
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut (Not bad when you just taste it, but the greasy taste that stays in your mouth is disgusting)
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear (Well actually, not quite yet, but I have one ready in the fruit bowl)
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone (I'm of two minds on this one, probably a no since I'm really not that big on seafood, but I'd probably try a taste...)
54. Paneer (at any rate I've had Saag Paneer, if not the cheese by itself)
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal (been there done that, won't try it again anytime soon)
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian (despite its less "nice" name of stinkfruit, it tastes surprisingly good - at least in Vietnam it does, maybe the exoticsm?)
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis (Not so big on offal myself)
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette (See 68 above - although Mr. Jazz pointed out that I had intestines in a Chinese Dim Sum place. Having tried it once, I can safely say I really don't get hungry enough to eat this. If ever I'm starving, I promise I'll consider it, until then.... meh)
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini (I've had them, but not together. Hate the caviar, love the blini)
73. Louche absinthe (I'd taste it, but i really dislike licorice-y tastes)
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill (but I ate at a place in NH called the Roadkill café)
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant. (I wish!!!)
85. Kobe beef (see comment above)
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse (makes a kick ass tartar!!!)
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa (I've had harissa, but I've never heard of rose harissa - so half of that one)
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano (A good chicken mole is amazing)
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee (too bad I hate coffee, I hear this is the best)
100. Snake (I almost got to that one in Vietnam, unfortunately, the restaurant didn't have any - or something at any rate).


Actually, I'm quite surprised at how many of these things I've tried... Who knew.
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What I hate most...

... about getting close to 50 is that way more people in my immediate surroundings are dying than being born.

Just sayin (#20 ... or so)

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Your honour, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I rest my case.
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Correspondence

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Dear Rich Westmount Ladies Who Lunch,

When will you realize that multiple facelifts don't make you look any younger. They just makes you look.... um... stretched.

Respectfully,

Jazz

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Dear Lady in the park,

I was nice about it. Really. But you know, it's really annoying to sit down on a park bench (a public park bench), only to be asked after numerous heavy sighs, when I'm going to leave.

Because, you say, you came here to lie down - on one of the shady benches - because you're really tired and need a snooze before going back to work. And my daring to sit on the (public) bench was putting a crimp in your plans since you came to the park to sleep.

Digression here, but what is wrong with you people? Of five benches in the park three of the four in the shade were already occupied by stretched out snoozers. Don't you people sleep at night?

And so I got up and I went to sit on the one bench that still had someone vertical on it. "Oh, the guy said, you got the speech too? I was already sitting there when she arrived, but the hostility made me leave."

And so we watched you fuss. Take out a towel, spread it on the bench. Pick it up, spread it out again. And leave. Without ever lying down. While we sat in the blistering sun.

We said hurrah and moved back to "our" bench.

If I ever meet you in the park again, I will not be nice about it. And I will not move.

Bitchily,

Jazz

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Dear Teenage Boys,

I might have mentioned this before, but the baggy pants... not so much.

I can understand they're the height of style - hell some of the stuff I wore at your age was beyond ridiculous.

But when your pants are so baggy they actually fall off your ass (yeah, I saw them fall, kid), it's a bit much. Just take it down a size or two and it'll be all good.

Sartorially,

Jazz

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Dear Teenage Girls

Contrary to the guys, your clothes are basically painted on. The super low rise jeans, really really do nothing for you. Unless you weigh 50 lbs sopping wet (and we're in north america where pretty much everyone has extra padding) the whole jeans cutting into the stomach thing, not so much, ok?

Muffin tops look good on... muffins.

And you, Muffin, are no piece of cake.

Following fashion just because... ok, well I guess it is the sign of a 15 year old.

Hopefully you'll grow out of it.

Fingers crossed,

Jazz

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Dear guy in Toronto,

Much as I dislike the baggy pants look (see above) it is a million times better than the "commando" baggy pants look.

Cause the idea behind the baggy pants look is to show off the waistband of your designer underwear, ya know? Not three inches of plumber's crack.

Kid, that's just beyond nasty. Put on underwear or smaller pants. Seriously. You look like a moron.

Sartorially (again)

Jazz
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