Monday, August 8, 2011
Things I Wish I Was Gutsy Enough to Tweet #3
Mayor Gregor just implemented a 30 km/h speed zone on Hastings in the heart of the Downtown Eastside. Too many citizens with substance abuse problems were getting hit while jaywalking. Wouldn't a yellow caution sign showing a person with a hypodermic needle in the arm accomplish the same thing? #justsayin
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Things I Wish I Was Gutsy Enough To Tweet #2
Why is it that everytime I see a flock of Canada Geese 2 words come to mind........Foie Gras. #goodeats
Monday, August 1, 2011
Things I Wish I Was Gutsy Enough To Tweet #1
A guy once told me that I was better than a hand. I replied, too bad you're not better than my vibrator. #excellentcomeback
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
If I Had Kids I'd Be A Raging Alcoholic
Miss me?
Of course you did. Sorry, but I really haven't had much to complain (bitch) about. Most people would say that this is a good thing. Fortunately for you, the heavens aligned and gave me something to blog (bitch) about.
My life puts me in situations where I'm often on planes. I'm OK with that. I have it all down to a science. The packing (which I hate), the check-in (a breeze), security, customs, all just a part of the package. Small children forced on planes by their parents bring me to my knees.
So today I left Vancouver at 7am. Final destination Miami. My routing took me from Vancouver to Denver, Denver to Houston, then Houston to Miami. No big deal. The layovers aren't bad and I get to hang out in lounges. (The US lounges make you pay for alcohol. Another reason it's better to be Canadian).
The flight from Vancouver to Denver was a piece of cake. Hardly anyone on it. Very peaceful. Things started to go south in the Denver lounge. Not being aware, I chose a spot between 2 TV's on different channels (CNN and All My Children). After a bit, this really started to put me on edge so I moved. When I boarded my next flight, I immediately asked the flight attendant for an aspirin as I could tell I was unusually stressed. She kindly obliged and I took my seat.
The plane soon started filling up. A man sat next to me (row of 3) and we started to become hopeful that perhaps we'd have the row to ourselves. We were almost scott free when........THE FAMILY showed up. Parents and 3 little children all under the age of 6. I knew I was in trouble when upon their arrival, the mom told the dad that it was the flight attendants' JOB to figure out where to stash all their carry-on. (said with attitude).
The flight attendants started moving people to accomodate this family. They moved all 3 people in the row behind me and the nice man beside me. I got mom and 2 kids behind me, dad and the youngest (almost 3) beside me.
Disclaimer time...... Many of my friends have children. I like THEIR children. THEIR children are the product of smart, intelligent parents who have taught them manners and how to behave in public. And I'm assuming, how to behave in small closed spaces with potentially non-kid friendly people.
I know they're little and that they don't know.....but their parents do. When did airlines stop giving children coloring books and crayons? Well, here's my tip....either provide kids distractions or provide the adults around them with alcohol. Trust me, the crayons are cheaper.
The boy behind me kicked my chair for the entire 2+ hour flight. The mom told him to stop about 3 times then just gave up. I'm assuming this is a regular pattern in their household. The little girl beside me did everything except stand on her head. Oh, and if I can tell she needs a diaper change......she needs a diaper change. Dad finally handled that towards the end of the flight. Note to self.....don't get your sinuses fixed before travelling ever again. An instance where not having a good sense of smell would have been an asset.
About an hour in I was at my wits end. Lack of sleep over the past 2 nights was a contributing factor but I knew I was helpless. I all could hope for was the drink cart. When it finally arrived, straight vodka was my saviour. (I still think the dad should have paid for it and the flight attendant should have given me the double I asked for).
I couldn't get off that plane fast enough. As I was exiting, I passed the man who was originally seated beside me. I told him he didn't know how lucky he was.
I compose this from the Houston Presidents Lounge with my second glass of wine. I'm much more relaxed and at ease. In less than 30 minutes I will board my final flight of the day. Let's hope that it will be without incident.
Maybe someone with a puppy will sit next to me.
THAT would be awesome.
Of course you did. Sorry, but I really haven't had much to complain (bitch) about. Most people would say that this is a good thing. Fortunately for you, the heavens aligned and gave me something to blog (bitch) about.
My life puts me in situations where I'm often on planes. I'm OK with that. I have it all down to a science. The packing (which I hate), the check-in (a breeze), security, customs, all just a part of the package. Small children forced on planes by their parents bring me to my knees.
So today I left Vancouver at 7am. Final destination Miami. My routing took me from Vancouver to Denver, Denver to Houston, then Houston to Miami. No big deal. The layovers aren't bad and I get to hang out in lounges. (The US lounges make you pay for alcohol. Another reason it's better to be Canadian).
The flight from Vancouver to Denver was a piece of cake. Hardly anyone on it. Very peaceful. Things started to go south in the Denver lounge. Not being aware, I chose a spot between 2 TV's on different channels (CNN and All My Children). After a bit, this really started to put me on edge so I moved. When I boarded my next flight, I immediately asked the flight attendant for an aspirin as I could tell I was unusually stressed. She kindly obliged and I took my seat.
The plane soon started filling up. A man sat next to me (row of 3) and we started to become hopeful that perhaps we'd have the row to ourselves. We were almost scott free when........THE FAMILY showed up. Parents and 3 little children all under the age of 6. I knew I was in trouble when upon their arrival, the mom told the dad that it was the flight attendants' JOB to figure out where to stash all their carry-on. (said with attitude).
The flight attendants started moving people to accomodate this family. They moved all 3 people in the row behind me and the nice man beside me. I got mom and 2 kids behind me, dad and the youngest (almost 3) beside me.
Disclaimer time...... Many of my friends have children. I like THEIR children. THEIR children are the product of smart, intelligent parents who have taught them manners and how to behave in public. And I'm assuming, how to behave in small closed spaces with potentially non-kid friendly people.
I know they're little and that they don't know.....but their parents do. When did airlines stop giving children coloring books and crayons? Well, here's my tip....either provide kids distractions or provide the adults around them with alcohol. Trust me, the crayons are cheaper.
The boy behind me kicked my chair for the entire 2+ hour flight. The mom told him to stop about 3 times then just gave up. I'm assuming this is a regular pattern in their household. The little girl beside me did everything except stand on her head. Oh, and if I can tell she needs a diaper change......she needs a diaper change. Dad finally handled that towards the end of the flight. Note to self.....don't get your sinuses fixed before travelling ever again. An instance where not having a good sense of smell would have been an asset.
About an hour in I was at my wits end. Lack of sleep over the past 2 nights was a contributing factor but I knew I was helpless. I all could hope for was the drink cart. When it finally arrived, straight vodka was my saviour. (I still think the dad should have paid for it and the flight attendant should have given me the double I asked for).
I couldn't get off that plane fast enough. As I was exiting, I passed the man who was originally seated beside me. I told him he didn't know how lucky he was.
I compose this from the Houston Presidents Lounge with my second glass of wine. I'm much more relaxed and at ease. In less than 30 minutes I will board my final flight of the day. Let's hope that it will be without incident.
Maybe someone with a puppy will sit next to me.
THAT would be awesome.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Riding in Italy
I know it's been a while since my last post so obviously things have been going well in my world. Funny how it takes less than a week in Italy to churn things up.
I've come to terms with many of my Italian annoyances. I accept that when I go to the supermarket I will be stared at as though I have 3 heads. I accept that the 'rules of the road' are only mere suggestions here. And that when I get on the freeway, no matter how fast I'm driving, someone will need to drive faster and crawl up my tailpipe to let me know.
As many of you know, I have a Harley. A 1998 Heritage Softail to be exact. Black. With lots of chrome. Not exactly a small bike. There is a severe lack of straight roads in Tuscany. In all of Italy really. So my bike really isn't ideal for the roads here. But I love it and couldn't imagine riding any other type of bike. How I would love to cruise the highways in North America where the majority of people actually follow the rules of the road. But, my bike is here so I just have to suck it up.
Due to my current situation, I don't spend much time in Italy, so riding opportunities are limited. When I do get the chance, there's always been a very large gap between rides so I'm always nervous. Will I remember what to do? Can I handle my bike? Things of that nature. But, once I actually get going, I relax and all is well. I also remind myself of all the times I rode in less than ideal situations. There was the time when I first got the bike and the fellow whom I bought it from had 'modified' it. And poorly. He had extended the foot controls, put on a custom seat and made it so that the bike was very off balance. But I rode. I navigated hairpin turns, up a hill without incident. Then there was the time that I lost my rear brakes during the beginning of my ride. But, I rode all day (I still had the front brakes) and used my gears to my advantage (I do that anyway). During that particular adventure, I was almost hit head on by an individual driving recklessly down a hill. There were many blind corners but he didn't feel the need to slow down or stay on his side of the road for that matter. Fortunately, I had thought to stay as far to my right as possible while riding up the hill. These are just some of the little joys of riding.
Today though brought my blood to a boil. I am used to being passed. In fact, I expect it. But today's jackass figured he should pass me on the inside while I was in a left turning roundabout. Are you kidding me? What planet granted you a driver's license Mr Volvo? I realize that you're probably really choked that you're stuck driving a soccer mom mobile while I'm on a super cool Harley. And, as I exited the roundabout and gunned it, I totally expected you to pass me. Notice I had my middle finger salute at the ready for you. And the best part, he gave me a salute of his own because of course he didn't do anything wrong.
So to you Mr Volvo, I wish you all sorts of bad luck. I hope you get caught drinking and driving and they suspend your license because you have no business having one in the first place.
I feel much better now.
I've come to terms with many of my Italian annoyances. I accept that when I go to the supermarket I will be stared at as though I have 3 heads. I accept that the 'rules of the road' are only mere suggestions here. And that when I get on the freeway, no matter how fast I'm driving, someone will need to drive faster and crawl up my tailpipe to let me know.
As many of you know, I have a Harley. A 1998 Heritage Softail to be exact. Black. With lots of chrome. Not exactly a small bike. There is a severe lack of straight roads in Tuscany. In all of Italy really. So my bike really isn't ideal for the roads here. But I love it and couldn't imagine riding any other type of bike. How I would love to cruise the highways in North America where the majority of people actually follow the rules of the road. But, my bike is here so I just have to suck it up.
Due to my current situation, I don't spend much time in Italy, so riding opportunities are limited. When I do get the chance, there's always been a very large gap between rides so I'm always nervous. Will I remember what to do? Can I handle my bike? Things of that nature. But, once I actually get going, I relax and all is well. I also remind myself of all the times I rode in less than ideal situations. There was the time when I first got the bike and the fellow whom I bought it from had 'modified' it. And poorly. He had extended the foot controls, put on a custom seat and made it so that the bike was very off balance. But I rode. I navigated hairpin turns, up a hill without incident. Then there was the time that I lost my rear brakes during the beginning of my ride. But, I rode all day (I still had the front brakes) and used my gears to my advantage (I do that anyway). During that particular adventure, I was almost hit head on by an individual driving recklessly down a hill. There were many blind corners but he didn't feel the need to slow down or stay on his side of the road for that matter. Fortunately, I had thought to stay as far to my right as possible while riding up the hill. These are just some of the little joys of riding.
Today though brought my blood to a boil. I am used to being passed. In fact, I expect it. But today's jackass figured he should pass me on the inside while I was in a left turning roundabout. Are you kidding me? What planet granted you a driver's license Mr Volvo? I realize that you're probably really choked that you're stuck driving a soccer mom mobile while I'm on a super cool Harley. And, as I exited the roundabout and gunned it, I totally expected you to pass me. Notice I had my middle finger salute at the ready for you. And the best part, he gave me a salute of his own because of course he didn't do anything wrong.
So to you Mr Volvo, I wish you all sorts of bad luck. I hope you get caught drinking and driving and they suspend your license because you have no business having one in the first place.
I feel much better now.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Self-Entitlement
During my time at UHH I met some very lovely people. Unfortunately, this isn't the blog to talk about them. What really stands out was all the people who had a sense of self-entitlement. It actually got very hard to keep straight. With so many King Shits and only one turd mountain you can imagine the confusion. It was only on the last day that it was made clear to me. You see, UHH was not a union of efforts. It was a collection of individual efforts striving to best one another and make someone else look bad. Plus, not everyone was playing by the same rules. So, it was like the San Andreas fault. Each piece trying to work with the other but really floating on top of another piece.
So, among all these pieces were people who rated high above the rest of us and they let us all know that.
After the Olympic Appendectomy, I returned to UHH a mere 6 hours after release from the hospital. Crazy? Yes I know. (my reasons will follow in another post). As I'm sitting at my winebar (yes, MY winebar) indulging in a cup of cappuccino goodness, a man approaches and starts flipping through one of the wine books we had on the counter.
"Oh my" the man says. "What a fabulous book. My son would absolutely love it. Can I have it?"
Now, I instantly recognize the gentleman as one of the Self-Entitled. I don't know what his actual position is or exactly why he's one of the Self-Entitled but I know him to be the part of the San Andreas fault that floats on top of the others,.
"Unfortunately" I say, "This is our only copy and I'm not authorized to give it away. Do you not live in Italy?"
"Yes" he replies
"Well, this book is widely available in all bookstores and supermarkets. You can easily pick up a copy there"
"I've never seen it" says the man
Now, I'm thinking, do you live under a rock? But I ask "Where do you live?"
"Rome" he replies.
Of course, makes sense, the cradle of western civilization obviously wouldn't have such a book.
Now, realizing that Mr Self-Entitled wanted the book and as Mr Self-Entitled he shall have the book, I knew when the battle was lost. So when he asked what he could possibly do to have the book I just put my cheek forward for a kiss.
He was happy. For about 30 seconds.
As he snatched the book in his greedy little hands, along came someone who didn't play the Self-Entitled game. The only person who could put him in his place. The person who brought the book to UHH in the first place.
"I'm sorry" said the wine book man " but you can't take that book as it's our only copy."
"Don't you know who I am?" said Mr Self-Entitled " I'm the director of UHH."
"Well" said the wine book man "I'm the director of the wine division of UHH and you can't take that book. Give me your address and I will make sure a copy is waiting for you once you arrive home."
SNAP!
Well, Mr Self-Entitled didn't take to kindly to that and left muttering under his breath. I was asked why I didn't stick to my guns and insist about the book. First off, I'm tired. Tired of the game and all these people. Secondly, it's just a book which I knew he was going to take no matter what I said. He's Mr Self-Entitled after all.
The next day, there is still discussion about the incident and the book is still on the counter. After some time I comment that it will be a miracle if the book does not disappear. Nonsense I am told as Mr Self-Entitled has been put in his place.
Within the hour the book is gone. And ever so coincidentally, I see Mr Self-Entitled not too far away. I don't actually believe he took it. I believe he sent one of his lackeys to take it. And the really funny thing is this. The book sells for around $15. It's small, hard-covered and heavy. Why would you want to take something that you can easily buy back home? Plus something that is heavy and just going to add additional weight to your luggage?
I can just see him at the airport with his overweight luggage.
"You're luggage is overweight sir."
"But I'm Mr Self-Entitled."
"Don't care sir, either take something out or go to the counter and pay the excess weight charges."
"And have a nice day."
So, among all these pieces were people who rated high above the rest of us and they let us all know that.
After the Olympic Appendectomy, I returned to UHH a mere 6 hours after release from the hospital. Crazy? Yes I know. (my reasons will follow in another post). As I'm sitting at my winebar (yes, MY winebar) indulging in a cup of cappuccino goodness, a man approaches and starts flipping through one of the wine books we had on the counter.
"Oh my" the man says. "What a fabulous book. My son would absolutely love it. Can I have it?"
Now, I instantly recognize the gentleman as one of the Self-Entitled. I don't know what his actual position is or exactly why he's one of the Self-Entitled but I know him to be the part of the San Andreas fault that floats on top of the others,.
"Unfortunately" I say, "This is our only copy and I'm not authorized to give it away. Do you not live in Italy?"
"Yes" he replies
"Well, this book is widely available in all bookstores and supermarkets. You can easily pick up a copy there"
"I've never seen it" says the man
Now, I'm thinking, do you live under a rock? But I ask "Where do you live?"
"Rome" he replies.
Of course, makes sense, the cradle of western civilization obviously wouldn't have such a book.
Now, realizing that Mr Self-Entitled wanted the book and as Mr Self-Entitled he shall have the book, I knew when the battle was lost. So when he asked what he could possibly do to have the book I just put my cheek forward for a kiss.
He was happy. For about 30 seconds.
As he snatched the book in his greedy little hands, along came someone who didn't play the Self-Entitled game. The only person who could put him in his place. The person who brought the book to UHH in the first place.
"I'm sorry" said the wine book man " but you can't take that book as it's our only copy."
"Don't you know who I am?" said Mr Self-Entitled " I'm the director of UHH."
"Well" said the wine book man "I'm the director of the wine division of UHH and you can't take that book. Give me your address and I will make sure a copy is waiting for you once you arrive home."
SNAP!
Well, Mr Self-Entitled didn't take to kindly to that and left muttering under his breath. I was asked why I didn't stick to my guns and insist about the book. First off, I'm tired. Tired of the game and all these people. Secondly, it's just a book which I knew he was going to take no matter what I said. He's Mr Self-Entitled after all.
The next day, there is still discussion about the incident and the book is still on the counter. After some time I comment that it will be a miracle if the book does not disappear. Nonsense I am told as Mr Self-Entitled has been put in his place.
Within the hour the book is gone. And ever so coincidentally, I see Mr Self-Entitled not too far away. I don't actually believe he took it. I believe he sent one of his lackeys to take it. And the really funny thing is this. The book sells for around $15. It's small, hard-covered and heavy. Why would you want to take something that you can easily buy back home? Plus something that is heavy and just going to add additional weight to your luggage?
I can just see him at the airport with his overweight luggage.
"You're luggage is overweight sir."
"But I'm Mr Self-Entitled."
"Don't care sir, either take something out or go to the counter and pay the excess weight charges."
"And have a nice day."
Monday, March 1, 2010
Farewell Ms Red Runners
Dear Ms Red Runners,
I'm glad that you are so excited about leaving Vancouver but no where near the excitement we as a city feel about you leaving.
I wish I could say it's been a pleasure knowing you but the complete opposite is more accurate. I have never met an individual as mean spirited as you. As we reminissed about our time together last night, it was especially fun having you throw a moment from 22 days ago back in my face again. A moment in which I was just doing my job by the way.
Ah good times.
Well, farewell Red Runners. May we never meet again. May the flight you're on this morning be oversold and leave you without a seat. May they re-route you in such a way that it would be faster for you to walk back to the country where the rock you live under is. May they lose your luggage and not have the meal you desired. And may they seat a young mother and her screaming child next to you.
Yours truly,
Winesnob
I'm glad that you are so excited about leaving Vancouver but no where near the excitement we as a city feel about you leaving.
I wish I could say it's been a pleasure knowing you but the complete opposite is more accurate. I have never met an individual as mean spirited as you. As we reminissed about our time together last night, it was especially fun having you throw a moment from 22 days ago back in my face again. A moment in which I was just doing my job by the way.
Ah good times.
Well, farewell Red Runners. May we never meet again. May the flight you're on this morning be oversold and leave you without a seat. May they re-route you in such a way that it would be faster for you to walk back to the country where the rock you live under is. May they lose your luggage and not have the meal you desired. And may they seat a young mother and her screaming child next to you.
Yours truly,
Winesnob
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