I's a scribbler, I is.

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Ain't he cute that little guy to the right? Shouldn't he be sitting in front of a computer though?

Ian, over at Or So I Thought bestowed upon me this lovely award. It was great to see this after a hellish Monday, and knowing that Tuesday will probably be just as bad. Thank you Ian for thinking I scribble superiorily -yeah, I know, not a word, but there you go. Does that lose my my superiority in scribbldom?

Looking at this award though, I'm struck at how we no longer write. On paper. With a pen. Other than my journal (which means, I suppose that I write for "real" more than most people), I don't use pen and paper anymore to do anything other than jotdown shopping lists and notes to myself to remember this that or the other. Actually, I find myself jotting more note as the years go by and the old brain begins to turn to mush.

I can't remember the last time I took the time to sit down with my pen to write a letter to someone. A real, chatty email of a letter. A how're you doing, last week I this and that happened and on and on. I used to write a couple of 5-10 page letters a week. No longer. It's sad really, because somehow, typing doesn't hold a candle to the sensation of a fountain pen sliding on a good sheet of paper. Anyone want a letter?

Change is good, but sometimes what you leave behind, though it's much slower and less efficient, is even better....

Well, enough maudlin bullshit.

I don't know how many people I'm supposed to pass this onto, but I'll do two men and two women:

Dumdad - an expat journalist Brit living in Paris, his blog has been one of my favourites since I discovered him through... hell I don't even remember how I discovered him.

Joe - A writer photographer living in Florida. His photos are awesome. He takes ordinary moments and makes them extraordinary. His short stories are wonderful. Sort of like his pictures. Only problem is they don't come often enough.

Jocelyn - Everyone's favourite Midwesterner. College teacher and smartass, if her life is as hilarious as what she writes she must spend all her time laughing.

XUP - The Ex Urban Pedestrian. I discovered her with her first blog, where she was writing about being a pedestrian in the city. Literally. It was all about walking and the evils of cars. It was great. She returned and is a prolific and hilarious blogger. Read her if you haven't already. READ. HER. BLOG.

And because I like to break the rules when I can (and I haven't been able to do much of that lately) even if they're my stoopid rools, here's another:

Dorky Dad - He's insane. And funny. And his stories about family life have me on the floor laughing. I need laughs. Thus I love him. I'm a simple creature I am.

And to all you others I follow religiously, it's for you too, so if you want it take it.

Edited to add: Dumdad pointed out that he had given me a Dummy way back in February. A Dummy. All for myself. My very own Dummy. But since I'm an idiot, I had never noticed. Thank you Dumdad for recognizing my dummyness.


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Art and personality

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I got this from Rachel's blog, Lessons Learned. For the past couple of weeks, I've been thinking about art, what makes something art, who decides what art is, you know, all those lofty preoccupations that come with being sick of your job and more than ready for a vacation. So, when I saw this I had to do it. I find it rather funny that I've scored in the negatives except for abstract and cubist - and truly, I much prefer that type of painting to a 16th century masterpiece.

And so, here's what my taste in art says about my personality... However flattering the personality description is, I dunno how true it is, I tend not think so much about these things because I'm way to preoccupied by what constitutes art and shit like that. You'd have to ask Mr. Jazz. I highly doubt that I could be considered a visionary in any way shape or form though. But I really like that painting below. Would someone buy it for me please?

Non-conformist, Visionary, and Independent

23 Abstract, -16 Islamic, -5 Ukiyo-e, 16 Cubist, -16 Impressionist and -30 Renaissance!

Abstract art uses a visual language of form, color and line to create a composition which exists independently of what may appear to others as visual realities. Western had been underpinned by the logic of perspective and an attempt to reproduce an illusion of visible reality. It allowed the progressive thinking artists to show a different side to the world around them. By the end of the 19th century many artists felt a need to create a 'new kind of art' which would encompass the fundamental changes taking place in technology, science and philosophy. Abstract artists created art that was diverse and reflected the social and intellectual turmoil in all areas of Western culture.

People that choose abstract art as their preferred art form tend to be visionaries. They see things in the world around them and in people that others may miss because they look beyond what is visual only with the eye. They rely on their inner thoughts and feelings in dealing with the world around them instead of on what they are told they should think and feel. They feel freed from the tendency to be bound by traditional thought and experiences. They look more toward their own ideas and experiences than what they are told by their religious upbringing or from scientific evidence. They tend to like to prove theories themselves instead of relying on the insight or ideas of others. They are not bound by common and mundane, but like to travel and have new experiences. They value intelligence, but they also enjoy a challenge. They can be rather argumentative when they are being forced or feel as if they are being forced to conform.

Take What Your Taste in Art Says About You Test at HelloQuizzy

Huh?

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Gotta wonder how many pages they check...



Taken from the ever entertaining Nowhere, IL
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The thing about butts

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XUP's recent post reminded me of a conversation Mr. Jazz and I had recently.

Jazz: I have the proof for all those Christian right nutjobs that god does not exist, or that if he does he's far from perfect.

Mr. Jazz: Okaaaaay.... and that would be?

Jazz: Butts.

Mr. Jazz: Butts?

Jazz: Well see, god is supposed to be omniscient, to know all to have engineered man in his own image, eh?

Mr. Jazz: ....

Jazz: Now look at animals. They poop, it falls out their butt, they keep going about their business. No butt cheeks, no fuss, no muss, and mostly, no mess. Right?

Mr. Jazz: Um....

Jazz: Now us, we have butt cheeks that screw everything up. Things stick, things smear; toilet paper has become a thriving industry because of our faulty design.

Mr. Jazz: I see your point, but god?

Jazz: Well if god was so perfect, you'd think he'd have ironed out the kinks a long time ago. And if we are made in his own image (cause god has to be a guy, a woman would have thought to fix this), this makes him imperfect doesn't it?

Ergo, since god is perfect, and this issue delves deep in the realm of imperfection, god must not exist - because according to judeo-christian thought, an imperfect god is an impossibility. Thus Darwin was right, it's all about evolution, and human evolution contains a serious kink, perhaps because we were too busy evolving our brain to evolve our butt. It might explain why humans are so cranky all the time. If we had a well designed butt, we might never even have thought of the concept of war!

On the other hand, maybe god does exist and has huge investments in toilet paper companies - in which case, the joke's on us.
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November. Politics. Both mind numbingly boring.

After the recent boring Canadian federal election and the amazing recent election in the US, as I mentioned we're doing the whole election thing again in Quebec less than two years after our previous provincial election.

And our candidate are redefining the meaning of boredom. Yesterday the Parti Québecois and Liberals accused each other of being bad managers.

BAD!

MANAGERS!

That pretty much sums up the whole election. We're voting for a manager, not a leader.

The only halfway amusing thing here is Mario Dumont who at the beginning of the campaign touted himself as the Obama of Quebec. The man for change. The man leads the ADQ, the party most to the right that attracts the most rednecks. The reactionary party. Oh the irony!

(Edited to add: This blog from Deux Maudits Anglais on Maclean's.ca just proves that Mario Dumont, like all politicians, is nothing but a clown. He just takes it to a higher level. And yet, he actually managed to be the official opposition leader after the last election. What is wrong with people? )

The whole charade makes the federal election look almost interesting in retrospect. That's scary.

Will we ever again see an inspired leader, whether at the federal or provincial level? Will we ever again see someone with a minimum of flair? A touch of charisma? A René Lévesque? (Love him or hate him, the man had charisma and he inspired people to believe in something).

God these people tire me. I want need a Barak Obama!!!
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In these days of economic uncertainty...

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... I came across this quote and damn if it didn't strike a chord...



The only function of economic forecasting is to make astrology look respectable.

- John Kenneth Galbraith



Not that I'm in any way qualified to speak of the economy.
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Please tell me...

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How is it anyone's damn business - other than the people directly involved - if gays get married?

Seriously who the hell am I or anyone else to tell them they're not allowed to marry?

People are so damn judgmental.
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632,000,000th blog post on the US election

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Probably more. Everything has no doubt been said.

Halleluia and congratulations to the USA!

And I just want to add my heartfelt thanks to Sarah Palin for all the effort she put into helping this happen.

Thank you Sarah from the bottom of my heart.
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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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