Sunday, January 24, 2010

Paranoid Android – I love the smell of [panic] in the morning

I’ve never actually seen Apocalypse Now but I’m hoping it’s okay that I borrow its most famous quote, only to subsequently butcher it. However, perhaps we are headed for an apocalypse; after all, we live in a world post 9/11 world of H1N1, Mariam Makhniashvili, Tori Stafford, Cecilia Zhang, Jane Creba and ridiculous flight restrictions into the United States. And believe me, I’m not here to dispel the seriousness of these news stories, nor am I here to take away from the real tragedies that have taken place. I am here, however, to give a counter-spin to mainstream media and play my favourite game of devil’s advocate.

In a very poor transition statement between paragraphs, I must selfishly say that I’ve discovered someone who has my ideal career. He travels the world, writes for the masses and gets to do both in the name of healthcare – our shared passion. AndrĂ© Picard is the public health reporter for the Globe and Mail. I saw him once; he moderated a panel discussion at a health conference on hospital wait times at my school during undergrad. However, at that point I wasn’t brazen enough to go up and talk to
him and demand I become his successor. What a shame. In any case, Mr. Picard has written an interesting article about new empirical data that has been compiled by Statistics Canada. The article postulates what could be the cause for children today to be markedly more overweight and obese than twenty years ago. Picard goes on to say that leading a healthy lifestyle is more than hockey practice once a week or 20 minutes of school board mandated exercise, but an all-round commitment to actually being active in one’s day-to-day life.

I know that I firmly agree with him, and I recognize that living in the city that I’m probably more likely to walk somewhere than say someone living in the SUV-laden suburbs. However I’m also the holder of a TTC Metropass so the part of me who screams for value of my all-you-can-ride mass transit card battles it out with my active lifestyle self – but when it’s -30 outside, you can guess who wins when I take the subway one stop.

I’m sure I don’t have to tell most of you how hard it is to have an active lifestyle when you work a
n office job. You wheel around the tight confines of your cubicle and the furthest you go is to the printer or the bathroom. I work in a four storey building and everyone takes the elevator. I walk up the stairs (if I remember to throw my security pass into my ever changing purse arsenal) every morning, however when you can’t use the stairs after 6 pm because it’s not safe. And I’ve hardly ever left my workplace before 6 (or the sunset) so I wouldn’t know what it’s like to descend those stairs. I think someone told me the reason was that the stairs weren’t safe after 6 pm. And I’ve heard before that less than favourable people lurk in enclosed stairwells, but as firmly as I believe that activity needs to be intrinsic part of one’s life, I also believe that enough is enough with the fear mongering.

Now then, that’s not to say that I condone putting yourself explicitly in harm’s way like trying to run across a major highway for giggles. I’m just saying that there are far more “dangerous” things out there in the world that are far more likely to happen to you. In Picard’s article he mentions that parents now always drive their kids to school instead of letting them walk because we are convinced that they will be kidnapped. We want to be as cautious as possible, but to what end? Are we are going to stay inside our homes and not go out in the dark after a while? Isn’t that how the terrorists win? (I do jest.)

I am reminded of a news story
from back in 2008 (whoa, that’s so last decade); perhaps you remember it, click on the link if you don’t. In New York City (the scariest in the world!), a mother gives her 9-year-old son a Metrocard, $20, a map and says she’ll see him at home. Is this an example of the worst parenting ever? It caused quite the uproar when it happened, but I’d like to think I would do the same thing. (But I do add a slight disclaimer that I could be one of the worst parents ever.) In fact, I might have actually witnessed the same thing today. I got on the subway and there was a child (probably about age 7) standing by the doors. I couldn’t see anyone who really looked like his parent anywhere near him. He didn’t look scared or mischievous in any way. I got on after him and got off before, so I sincerely hope nothing happened to him.

For the most part though, we all also fall victim (that’s a little ironic) to the bystander apathy effect where we don’t want to seem intrusive busy-bodies and embarrass ourselves if we overreact. That’s a bit paradoxical isn’t it? As a society we are overly cautious and anxious people, but when something is actually wrong, no one will do anything to help to avoid seeming overly cautious and anxious? To me, that’s just fucked up.


I’m straying a bit further from my inaugural point (that only goes to show how badly I need a real editor), which is our paranoia-caused sedentary behaviour will result in a much realer fate than being accosted for change by a homeless man. You just might develop type 2 diabetes -- unbeknownst to you, you might be slowly killing yourself and your family. Shock and horror should abound. And it’s not just the aforementioned paranoia doing it to us either. Picard’s article also talks about the kind of food we ingest on a daily basis. It truly is hard to have two working parents and still have the time to put fresh food without a little help from something pre-made on the table. The article goes on to say that parents are working longer hours to earn more money to try and provide the best of everything for their children. But at the same time while carting them off to horse back riding lessons, Scouts, or choir practice we’re eating McD’s in the van en route. To what end do we trade these things off?

I agree with Picard when he says that exercise alone is actually not
the sole answer. Every terrible “as seen on TV” miracle home gym equipment does expressly say that you have to follow a diet plan as well. You just might be missing that part while you swoon over those washboard abs of the actors. Moreover, in order to escape these real, live (and completely preventable) atrocities we need to do more than regimented exercise alone, we need to adopt actual healthy (and incredibly simple) lifestyle habits and stop freaking out over ridiculous things you can’t control, thusly allowing paranoia to rule your life. These simple steps include: working a little less (an outrage!), eating more (in a nutritiously dense way) and feeling better (psychologically as a result as less anxiety, and physically because your body will thank you). And you can actually trust me on this one, I’m a gym major.


Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The Year of the F Bomb

It's time to check in: we're about three weeks into the new year, which is about the time people fall off the wagon of their new year's resolutions. Last year I set a new record; my resolution was to capture moments of my life vis-a-vie photograhpy, but that becomes a moot point when you're so drunk you lose your camera at the bar on new year's. So this year I didn't make any resolutions; however, I do like themes, moreover, I'm a huge fan of alliteration. Thus I call 2010 the year of the F bomb.

Really awesome words start with the letter F, allow me to provide some examples:

  • Fun
  • Food
  • Family
  • Friends
  • Free
  • Freedom
  • Fries (heh)
  • Fancy
  • Formal
  • Fame
  • Fortune
  • Flirting
  • Foreplay
  • Fornication
  • Flan
  • Fortitude
  • Fermenting
  • Fact
  • Fiction
  • Fitness
  • Forgiveness
  • Fire
I thought I couldn't think of any F words that were bad but then I thought of famine, fighting, foreclosure -- so I guess everything F isn't always the best, but it's not all bad either! Uh, win? It would be difficult to focus on all of these f words so I'll choose my top three:
  1. Food
  2. Friends
  3. Fitness
I think these are fabulous goals for the year, the forthcoming Winterlicious festival in Toronto will be good for 1 & 2 but not 3. Please don't make me draw another Venn diagram. Wow, a whole post about the letter f and I never said the actual f word once. Fuckin' eh. Okay, one time.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Woman on Top – but it’s not at all what you’re thinking or maybe it really is

Ah you’re a perv, now I remember why we’re excellent friends/moderately acquainted/not repulsed by each other. And if you know me at all, you’ll also know I consider myself a “feminist”. I often hesitate to use that word because I once lived with a women’s studies major who called herself a feminist, but let me tell you, each are mutually exclusive things. In any case, this isn’t a preachy “I am woman, hear me roar” rant either – not overtly anyway, I’m sure I’ll throw in some less than subliminal jabs here and there.


Let me start off by saying that I’m sorry I haven’t been around for a while. I keep telling people my full-time employment gets in the way of my unemployment blog. But what keeps a person (namely me) writing? I’m glad I asked; as it gives me time to consult the handy Venn diagram I created in Paint (because that is the extent of my computer skill).


So as we can see (or maybe you can't -- I don't know why it got so blurry) for “increased writing frequency” can be a result of “ample time” or being “angry at men”. HINT: I can’t see any sand around me, and that my spinning class tomorrow is going to be phenomenal. I will also add that I have to be up in less than six hours, but I’m hell bent on writing this anyway.


I’m a self-proclaimed bonafide (oxymoronic) storyteller; I talk a lot with my hands (must be the Italian in my blood) and more than once I’ve been asked if I’m an actor. Storytellers need stories (preferably their own); which means one would need a plethora of experiences to draw upon. And today my stories come from a character I like to play called: a single girl on the town.


Act I, scene i

[Single girl on the town (SGOTT) is walking up a flight of stairs from the bathroom at Brant House when a hand rests on her arm]

Man the first: You’re really good looking.

SGOTT: Thank you.

[Both continue walking up the stairs, SGOTT waits for her friends who didn’t scamper up the stairs quite so quickly]

Man the first: I’m Ryan Murphy.

SGOTT: Oh, are we on a full name basis now? I’m Sarah…Chan.

[unmemorable chatter ensues – until]

Sarah Chan: So what do you do?

Ryan Murphy: I work in the big tower on King

S. Chan: The BMO tower? Neat, I work midtown; I wish I worked right downtown.

R. Murphy: [distracted by the loud booming music] Listen, I don’t really care what you’re saying; you’re a really good looking girl. And I definitely think you should call me.

S. Chan: ???


Act II, scene i

[Past last call at Tattoo Rock Parlour. SGOTT is dancing her pants off (figuratively) with her two lovely friends when someone places a hand on the small of her waist]

Man the second: Hi.

SGOTT: Hello.

Man the second: I’m Finny

SGOTT: I’m – Andrea.

[Hesitant arms length dancing (but not quite grade seven slow dancing) ensues. At some point he takes off his hat to reveal a shaved head]

“Andrea”: I shaved my head once too.

Finny: No way, I don’t believe you.

“Andrea”: Why would I lie?

Finny: Bullshit.

“Andrea”: I did Cuts for Cancer a few years ago

Finny: That’s really admirable. I bet you guys still hit on you. It doesn’t matter what your hair looks like you’ve got a pretty face.

“Andrea”: Thanks(?)


Act II, scene ii

[Nearing the coat check line and about to exit Tattoo, enter Man the third desperately seeking the last minute hook-up]

Man the third: You’re so sexy.

SGOTT: You have yourself a nice night.


Act II, scene iii

[Soliloquy]

SGOTT: At one point in the night a lesbian couple started making out on the dance floor. And

those of the presumably heterosexual male persuasion started losing their shit. It’s one of the ultimate male fantasies, isn’t it, to get it on with two girls? But the best part is that lesbians aren’t making out with each other for the aim of being noticed by men. They aren’t drunk college girls (or if they are, they aren’t feigning homosexuality) with low self-esteem vying for attention. Lesbians have all the control in this situation and straight men are weakened at the knees by this fantastical girl-on-girl action. And that kind of power is something I wish I could have. Alas, the soft, supple kiss of a woman is just not for me.


Through the misadventures of this single girl on the town I’ve learned many a lesson. Being single in this city comes with its share of hilarity, especially the thought of my panties immediately dropping to the ground because someone calls me sexy as I leave the bar. Though it can be argued that my experiences could easily happen to a girl who is part of a couple, from what I observe and have experienced myself, couples are usually more likely to stay at home and watch a movie. And then they actually make it through the whole movie and not use air quotes to describe their night. Come on, you’re pervy; you know what I’m talking about. Also, I’ve learned that I’m still hot, but no one cares what I have to say and that beauty is only hair deep? Moreover, we most definitely still live in a world where straight white men hold an abhorrent imbalance of power. (There’s that not so subliminal jab I promised.) But I’d say on the sexual hierarchy men have met their Achilles’ heel. So more power to the lesbians, says I. Finally, a woman on top. Oh get your mind out of the gutter.


[END SCENE. Exit stage left.]