Check yourself

...before you wreck your heart.

When I need an emotional lift, I often turn to pop music from the 90's and early 00's.  The stuff I went to school dances and hoped that Brad Morelli (and then later Adam Carmichael and still later ... well, I don't need to give away all my high school crushes here, do I?) would want to dance with me to.

One of my current favourites is Robyn, in no small part due to the fact that she's now a super-legit, talented pop musician.  Seriously, go listen to the entire Robyn album.  It has been named the best pop album ever/in a long time by a lot of people who know stuff about music, and by me.

Anyhoo, I like to go back in time every once and a while to her late 90's hits, the first of which being Show Me Love.  It's just so good in so many ways!

I downloaded the song, and when I listened to it, instead of starting with the characteristic "yea-ee-ea" that I was anticipating I was hit with a very different sound.

Here is the youtube version of what came out of my speakers:

Here is what I was looking for:

Turns out that there are TWO pop stars from the 90's with songs called Show Me Love.  The difference?  One is called RobIN and was releasing music in 1993 and the other is called RobYN and was releasing music in 1997.

It seems like this kind of shouldn't be allowed or something.


Anyone who's anyone has already heard of internet phenomenon Relationshapes.  And by anybody who's anybody, of course I mean some random people who read the things that I read, because I never know about the things that are actually popular on the internet until my 50+ year-old coworker shows them to me.

Anyways, Relationshapes are these comic-type things that are about shapes in relationships with each other and they pretty much leave me feeling totally confused, but in a vaguely entertained way.  I highly recommend checking them out.

Brad Pitt is OLD!

Check out the greyness of that beard:

Also, the Old Rich Dad on a Boat with Pricey Beer gold chains.

Oh, Bjork

Everyone together now, revel in the beautiful encouragement and wisdom of this song.

Also, the creepy/cool music video.  Because this is Bjork after all.

You'll be given love
You'll be taken care of
You'll be given love
You have to trust it

Maybe not from the sources
You have poured yours
Maybe not from the directions
You are staring at

Twist your head around
It's all around you
All is full of love
All around you

All is full of love
You just ain't receiving
All is full of love
Your phone is off the hook
All is full of love
Your doors are all shut
All is full of love!

All is full of love
All is full of love
All is full of love
All is full of love
All is full of love

Bye Oprah

So, Oprah had her last show yesterday.  Ever.

It feels weird for me to even mention it because I haven't really watched Oprah since I was in grade 5, but back then I used to watch her all the time.  Sitting in the living room pretending/trying to do my homework while watching TV and arguing with my Mom that I could totally watch TV and do homework at the same time, while actually realizing that I wasn't getting any homework done at all and my Mom was right but being unwilling to back down because that's what it means to be a preteen.

Now I feel a little like maybe I should have watched her more.  Like maybe I was taking her for granted or something?  Except it's not like she's leaving our lives, is it?  She's bought her own network, y'all.  This is because she found out a long time ago that you can better run the world through TV than being any kind of politician and she is probably either the second coming of Christ (a few days late!) or the Antichrist*.

I'm pretty sure there will be a lot of Oprah reruns on that network for the first little while because it's got to be hard to fill an entire TV schedule with your token celebrity advice-givers, so I can still make my amends.  Except that I won't because I don't even know what channel her network is on and can't be bothered to find out.

New invention for the internet: whenever someone types a question into an email or blog post, some little app-like-bug-thing searches everywhere and finds the answer to that question.  Bonus points for inserting the answer into my email or blog post, making me seem way smarter than I actually am.  Disregard for the fact that this is a super creepy invasion of privacy because this is the internet, and did you even bother watching The Net with Sandra Bullock?  We knew from the beginning that the internet was the beginning of the end**.

*Oh my word why did I say that now the internet is going to kill me for calling Oprah the Antichrist.  I don't actually think she's the Antichrist, I promise!  I just think that she's got a lot of power and could choose to become the Antichrist if she wanted to but she is probably just an angel sent to prepare the way by making us get used to crying at least once a day.

**Maybe the internet itself is the Antichrist?  I mean, does the Bible specify anywhere that the Antichrist is a person?  I'm pretty sure there's just vaguely demonic/animalistic references, right?

Getting Back at the World

Anyone out there who knows me knows that while I don't get mad all that easily, I do, however, get righteously indignant on a somewhat regular basis.  Most of the time it's the usual suspect of societal injustice (in one form or another) that gets my ire up to ranting level.  My dear younger brother is really good at saying things to raise said ire, sitting back with a smirk, and watching me get worked up as I school him in how the world is supposed to work.

Every once and a while, however, when I feel I have been personally injusticed (it's a word because I wrote it), ranting is not enough.  I need to get back at the world.

One example of this was when I was taking a psych class on childhood development.  Our TA's all gave guest lectures and the prof made it very clear that these lectures were examinable material.  She said it many times.  She was basically giving us an exam freebie, forewarning us of what at least one of the questions would be about.

One of the TA's, unfortunately, I found to be a turd.  He got the class talking about corporal punishment and was totally close-minded about it, presenting a very one-sided argument and then trying to make anyone who presented rational arguments to the contrary sound dumb.  I didn't like him.  So much so that I decided to get back at him by not studying the material from his lecture.  What better way to get back at the world for making me sit through that one lecture than not studying material that I knew would be on the exam.  Especially since I essentially measured my self-worth by my grade point average at that time in my life.

I distinctly remember sitting outside the exam room, doing my last-minute review, and coming across my notes from his lecture.  There was a large flowchart-type graphic laying out some turd-like theory he was teaching us.  I gave it a cursory glance-over, making a point to not actually try to remember anything on that chart because I did not want to give that man the satisfaction of learning what he taught us.

Well, you can guess how this story ends.  Not only was there a question about the chart on the exam, it was worth 10 points.  Against my own will I seemed to remember a few points that I was able to fill in, but that was about it.  This did not bode well for my self-worth/GPA.

And yet, did I learn?  Let me answer that question with another treasure from my more recent past: in the last couple of months, whilst going through my aforementioned emotional trauma, I occasional felt like the world was injusticing me.  This feeling was especially strong in the later hours of the evening, as is often the case with feelings.  While getting ready for bed I would get all mopey/angry and then want to get back at the world for making me feel this way.

That is why, a couple of times a week for that two month period, I would not floss my teeth.

Take that, world.

I'm sure my dentist will appreciate the logic.

attack of the giant killer bees part five billion

Okay, if you've read this blog for a while, you may know about my saga with giant killer bees*.  Well, last week, after almost a year of silence and placation, it has begun.

That's right.  The killer bees are back.  And now they're trying to trick me into thinking I'm stronger than they are.

I got home from work, laden with groceries, ready to rush-cook dinner for some friends that were coming over before I cleaned the house so that they wouldn't know think that I am a filthy slob, when I turn to the sink.  Inside the sink was one GIANT KILLER BEE, trying to crawl out.

It was already in the sink, y'all.  Like it was just waiting for me to drown it.  So I did.  Fairly easily.  Although the sink drain is designed to try to catch foodstuffs instead of letting them enter the pipe system, so it's giant killer bee carcass sat in the drain opening for a long time, taunting me with its horribleness.

The thing is, if you remember the last time I had a giant killer bee in a sink, it took more than mere water to kill it.  I had to douse it with bleach in the end to keep it from crawling back out from the bottom of the pipe, and probably created some kind of mutant super-giant killer bee in the process.

So you understand why I am now a little suspicious.  I mean, what kind of game are they playing here?  Are they trying to build up my sense of competence so that they can crush me in one, giant, stingy blow?  I'm kind of afraid to take showers now, like the next time I do there's going to be a swarm of giant killer bees appearing in the bathroom and I will not be able to fight them all off.

All this to say, if you meet up with me on the street and I seem really unkempt, I probably am avoiding showers for fear of giant killer bees.

*clearly I didn't plan the spacing out of those links well enough to finish the sentence, but I don't want to go back and fix it.  Sorry world.

I'm famous!

Someone else mentioned me in their blog!  Okay, yeah, it's a friend of mine.  But whatevs.  My blog is one of her top 10 awesome things.


Oh, and you can read her blog, about theatre-related stuff most of the time, here.  It's pretty awesome too.

Best advice EVER!

Hey ladies, remember Sassy magazine?  Or Jane?  Both short-lived magazines for female-types that were (apparently) the cream of the crop for magazines that are geared at women, yet don't make women feel like worthless piles of worthlessness all the time.  I say apparently because I was pretty young when Sassy was out and about, and while I read it a few times, I really don't remember any defining features except for a cover image with a cool rocker-looking chick with super blonde short hair and heavy eye make up who I thought was the best thing since best things.

Anyways, the superwoman behind both these magazines now has a website called xoJane, and it is AWESOME.  I just spent some time "flipping through" it and immediately added it to my iGoogle home page because (as Steve Tyler once said) I don't wanna miss a thing.

Check out this advice Jane gives to a woman who thinks her husband might be gay:
That’s not something that’s your job to figure out--his sexuality. Your job is to only make yourself happy and take care of yourself. Trust your instincts. Tell him to explore whatever he needs to explore, find himself however he needs to find himself, and that you are going to take care of your own self and you may or may not be there when he’s done with his exploration.
Seriously?  Maybe I'm just stuck on this because of the situation of my most recent heartbreak (and no, he wasn't potentially gay, but instead suddenly morphed into a disastrous cliche, becoming so terrified of commitment that he decided not only that he didn't love me anymore but that my love made him angry*), but I am suddenly full of "I'm going to get married to myself"-type feelings of love and appreciation for me.

I also might be a *little bit* kicking myself for not having the grace, foresight, and junk to say something like that the aforementioned heartbreaker two months ago.  But hey, we're all on a journey, right?

Thanks, Jane.

*Hooray for over-disclosure on the internet!

More Dying

According to (yep, that website still exists), I am going to die on January 21, 2083.

Photo by Bill Ward's Brickpile (Flickr)

Is it weird that my first reaction was to wrinkle my nose at the idea of living until 2083?  It just sounds like an imaginary year from a sci-fi novel or something.  I don't even want to do the math on how old I'm going to be.  Okay... now that I've said it I have to do the math: 99 years old!!!  OH GROSS!!!!

I've got to say (to get really morbid for a moment), after watching my grandparents age and break down, I have no desire to live past 70.

Good thing the world is actually ending this weekend.

Old Women in Commercials

Anyone seen the new commercial for the realtors who can help?  The one about The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe?  Here, let me remind you:

Now, does anyone remember how that nursery rhyme went?  Here's what Wikipedia says:

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

What's next?  A commercial about a realtor who was so helpful he found his client Peter a home with a large, pumpkin-shaped cellar just big enough to fit a wife?

Prepare Ye!

Maybe it's just a result of the fact that I am directly descended from people who stood on a mountaintop awaiting the second coming of Christ and the end of the world, but I love this:

Months ago I saw a giant billboard that looked just like this one at Main and Broadway.  I thought that it was a poorly chosen advertisement for a new Christian radio station, equating the arrival of their station with the literal arrival of the Lord himself.

Turns out they had something far more urgent to tell me: the literal return of LORD himself will be happening on May 21st!  They have figured it out!!!  (And this time they're definitely right, not like those guys who told my great-great aunt-whoever to wait on a mountain in Russia.  I mean, they didn't have computers back then so there was no way to get the date of the apocalypse right.  Duh.)

Well shee-ite, May 21st!  That's less than two weeks away!  I've got to get my affairs in order, don't I?

This leads to the practical question of how exactly one prepares for the return of the Lord.  I mean, swindlers aside, what are logical steps for me to take?

I guess it depends which side of the wrath I expect to be on.  If I'm going to be stuck on the earth during an apocalypse, I should really be stockpiling goods and maybe some weaponry.  This is no time for pacifism!  A planet full of all the unsaved made suddenly and horrendously aware of their damnation will not be a pleasant place to live, so I should be ready to defend myself.

On the other hand, maybe I will be on the other side of the wrath: the rescued-in-a-beam-of-light side.  In that situation, I guess I could sell all my stuff to people who I think likely to be "left behind" but who I like and want to have a fighting chance in the brave new world.  Actually, the good thing to do would probably be to give my stuff away, since I won't have any use for money whilst riding a cloud and playing a harp.  (I'm assuming they don't charge you for the harps?)

Either way, I probably should just quit my job now.  Chances are the situation of funding for the arts will only get worse post-apocalypse.

Neti Pots: Weird or Wonderful?

I am cross-posting this from my "other blog".  Just because I think more people need to learn about neti pots, as well as being a part of my experiment.

Most people these days have at least heard of a neti pot. I learned about these strange devices at yoga teacher training. Basically, it’s a tiny, adorable teapot that you fill with lukewarm water and a little non-iodized salt to clean your sinuses with. I know, right? Sounds weird and terrifying.

I considered getting one right away and trying it out (I think being in yoga teacher training automatically makes you game for trying new things), but since trying neti pot meant going out and buying things first, I never got around to it. Well, I’m here today to announce that a post on the online women’s magazine The Hairpin has inspired me to give the neti pot another level of consideration.

A snippet of their blog post:
So what exactly is a neti pot? It is a cute little pitcher that’s usually shaped like what I imagine a genie’s lamp looks like. You fill it with salt water, and then pour the water into one nostril, which is easier and less terrifying than it sounds. Gravity then pulls the water through your sinuses and it comes pouring out of your other nostril, along with a bunch of goop it’s collected along the way. Yes, it may sound a little unpleasant, but I promise it doesn’t hurt, and once you get the hang of it, it actually feels good! It’s a practice that has been used for centuries in India and has become ever more popular in the United States. (Dr. Oz even talked about it on Oprah, so you know it’s legit.)

Why would you want to flush your sinuses out with salt water? Lots of reasons: it helps clear congestion during a cold (and can make them go away faster), it can prevent and treat sinus infections, reduce allergies, help you breathe more easily, and just generally keep your respiratory system in better health. Neti pots work because they remove the dirt and bacteria and the dried mucousy clumps which like to hang out in your precious nasal caves and cause problems. The water can reach places you can’t get clear simply by blowing your nose or reaching in with your finger (which you would never do, of course). So even if the idea of pouring water into your sinuses sounds icky, just remind yourself that tiny bacteria making a nice home in your face is even ickier. Hey, you clean your mouth and your ears out, why not treat your sinuses with the same respect?
This external validation of the neti pot has inspired me to give it another go. So this is my promise to you: I will try the neti pot and give you a report from the front lines.

when middle age meets quarter life

Turns out that ladies begin to feel "over the hill" at the ripe old age of 29, versus 58 like our dude counterparts.

Really, eh?  Seems like an unfair deal to the girls in the room, since we only just got past our quarter-life crisis, and now we have to jump into middle age.  Well, I guess that's what we get for being so much hotter than the guys.

My sister turns 29 this year, do you think I should give her one of those awesome over the hill cards?  Maybe give her a wagon, because it's all downhill from here?

we are jerks

Science has once again proved what we like to pretend is not true: we are all jerks.

In an experiment reminiscent of the Milgram Experiment, a famous psych experiment that proved that people will give what they perceive to be deadly shocks with nothing but a man in a white coat telling them it was okay, we now learn that people will give shocks for money.

Yep, all it takes is one British buck for us to start inflicting pain on a totally random and innocent person.  Granted, a pound in Britain is worth a couple of dollars here, but still.  Seems a little trite (as the Brits would say) don't you think?

Yay, humanity!

Post-Election Fun Times

For Canada, the election is all done and we'll probably be living with our choices for the next 4-5 years.  In my humble opinion, some of those choices were rad and some were horrific.  I'll leave you to decide which are which.

In the meantime, there's this wonderful website called Vintage Voter that you may or may not have heard of.  Please.  Go.  It will instantly make you love all the party leaders just a little bit more.  Especially Elizabeth May.  Pictures 12 and 13 make her the coolest politicians in the world.