Miss officer – did you really have to call ‘back-up’? Really?

Now I know people are getting pretty hot under the collar now that spring has made a full turn ’round the bend - because  good weather is almost synonymous with increased violent crime.  I can also acknowledge that my community (for its size) appears to have a high violent crime rate. Whether they want to call it domestic affairs, gang wars or drug related crime activity is irrelevant to me. All I need to know is that people are getting hurt and having their lives taken for reasons which never seem good enough to put us at ease ( people do tell themselves its a result of natural selection – the ‘bad people’ are killing each another).  Well ‘right-on’ to you too. I prefer not to swim in naive waters, but I digress. 

My point is , I understand and encourage the increased ’security’ in Malton. We have a police station at the local ‘mall’ (I can’t call it that without those quotes…I just CAN’T) and neighbourhood police patrols that seem to begin and end on MY street. I almost feel like i’ve bought into a gated high security neighbourhood at a steal. So thanks!

What I don’t appreciate however, is you tailing me all the way home at 7 in the morning – or following me to drop my daughter off at school. Thats right folks. Miss Officer, who everyone seems to recognize but to whom noone is familiar, followed me down my street and tailed me 2 streets over before pulling me over a stop sign away from my daughter’s school. At 8:30 in the morning. REALLY? See I was driving my mom’s car, which she was gracious enough to loan me after my car had been involved in an accident. Coincedentally, in order to allow me access to the vehicle, my mother who is injured from a separate car accident had to retrieve her car from the body shop so that I could drive it. Although the car had been there for months – technicians thought it was funny to leave my mother’s front licence plate on the dash.

Where it had fallen off – so although the officer saw that I had plates on the back of the car, she still pulled me over. By this time, I had picked up the plate and placed in on the dashboard. She got out of her car, and I left my window up and looked straight ahead while she inspected the ‘98 Camry before tapping on my window. “I stopped you because your licence plate was missing from the front of the vehicle’. I explained my dilemma while my daughter sat in the back quietly. After my story – she asked for my documents. Thats right. THEN she called for back up.

At this point I was tempted to tell my daughter to walk to school – but hey – why make a bad thing worse? So I reached over into my purse – grabbed my ‘Cognition’ textbook and started reading. About ten minutes later she returned and caught me eye-over-spectacle fully entranced into my book. She looked utterly confused. I let her stand there a while before looking over with a look of annoyance, “Yes?’ I asked.

Miss Officer handed me my documents and mumbled something about putting the plates on as soon as possible. She and her equally daft colleague conversated some more, about what I would only assume involved a plan to avoid doing any more work whatsoever.  Maybe she should patrol the area around her office – the mall – where people have used weapons in broad daylight as of recently – but hey what do I know ? ;p

Cheers,

Denise

5 Types of Men Women avoid

5 Types of Men Women avoid

Before I start this list – I must note that I find it astonishing that men can almost ALWAYS find someone regardless of what category they may align with. Women…Yeah not so much. That being said – here is what I was able to come up with.

5 Types of Women that Men Avoid

5 Types of Women that Men Avoid

 

1 ) Women that actually expect men to approach them. Evolutionary psychology states that it is a cross cultural tendency for the person with the higher status to approach a prospective mate. Ignoring the idea that ‘status’ is synonymous with value, I am comfortable suggesting that for the most part, men usually have initiated contact with the opposite sex over the years. Recently, it appears (from observation and interviews) women have become the ‘seekers’.

Does this mean there has been some type of cultural role reversal? Or have men, being outnumbered, become lazy since they don’t have to work very hard to find a mate? Nevertheless, for the traditional woman this does not bode well.

My advice? Hit the border. You know why.

Ahhh – Church.

Church

So I went to church. On a Sunday. Again. After swearing off my home SDA church back in August of last year I have only attended three times since – all by invitation. Ironically, two of these visits were to a church other than my primary denomination.

So I realize kind of church I like – and which ones scare the hell out of me. ( I know – the irony!). I prefer a church that is small. ..a congregation of less than 50. I would like a church that does not last more than 3 hours (including Sabbath school)- and does so consistently unless there is a special occasion. Church should be a place where what I wear matters less than my presence- and I would like to NOT feel that I am attending a town hall meeting like the ones at work. My bed is quite comfortable at home – I don’t want to spend good resting time on the sturdy, unforgiving pews – so all I ask is that I am engaged – not frightened. I prefer not to be shouted at (because saying it loud doesn’t make it right) – but to be confronted with reason.

Here are my top 10 things I dislike about going to church:

Check Up – Checking In

Checking in …

Not that you missed me – but I have been away for sometime. While I’d like to say I was learning great things to share with you – most of the things I’ve learned we’ve already discussed in one way or another. My social Psychology course has been the most relevant thus far – as I spend much time (or used to) trying to understand my own behaviour and that of those around me.

Needless to say I think I’ve completely exhausted my learning experiences. Have you ever felt that way? As if you’ve reached that point of life’s learning curve that you begin to plateau – easily cruising along the fringe of existence where age and experience meet? Everything provides an instant sense of familiarity and peace and balance, not to mention a mental mantra of ‘Meh’!

So this is what comfort feels like.

Love? Check.
Home? Check.
Means of income? Check.
Growth? Check..

Balance? Check.

And giving thanks.

Judging Judgment

Judging Judgment

I had the opportunity to hear someone, a friend describe herself as ‘judgmental’. It caught me off guard because it isn’t a quality people eagerly admit to. I believe there is a quote in the Bible suggesting that declaring judgment invites judgment, and I believe many of us are in fear of being judged, particularly based on our judgments.

Worst Restaurant Ever

           I will NOT let this lifetime go by without a well deserved rant about the ironically and cruelly named restaurant ‘Giggling Tomatoes” at Airport Road near Derry. Leave it to me to be the adventurous one. On our son’s 12^th birthday I decided to stick closer to home when we decided to venture out to the celebratory birthday breakfast. HARUMPH! Choosing to skip our beloved breakfast nook at Kipling and Rexdale for the 2 minute ride to Giggling Tomatoes.  Cheaper gas, cheaper food, win-win – right?

 

          Wrong. I forgot cheaper service, cheaper suppliers…cheaper satisfaction. Let me start out by saying it was my fault. I should have called around and ask for references before I took the chance. Its just that the place looked rather big…there were always customers.. the sign was nice…the title reassuring. And with all our preconceived notions of entitlement – we walked into the Giggling Tomatoes with our hopes, expectations and hungry tummies. We waited by the door. And waited.

 

And waited for someone to seat us.

 

                 A few minutes into our cause we shuffled our feet – the kids began to un-polite themselves, curling their mouths and furrowing their brows at any passerby, including this middle aged man we assumed was the host. We tried to grab his attention – I may even have made eye contact and raised my eyebrows (hello?) my expression screamed sarcastically – until he sat in HIS seat and continue his meal. Oh wow. How embarrassing. The patrons began to stare as if to say “Where do they think they are , Buckingham Palace? Ha!”

 

And so we proceeded to seat ourselves in one of the many available but clean and comfortable booths by the window. Andre and I went up to the counter where a short stout woman stood behind a register. “Yes?” she asked when she finally looked up. After perusing the menu I discovered that there weren’t as many choices as I would have liked and the prices were not that reasonable at all! She plainly reminded me that there were no substitutions when I asked if we could have pancakes as a side dish for my son. I assumed this meant – I could not substitute the toast for pancakes, but could get them on the side. Andre found a nice picture of a waffle which billed at $5.99 – and convinced himself that it MUST be good. Then she totaled the bill and announced it was nearly $50.00.

 

                   I’m sorry – did we accidentally go to Red Lobster for breakfast? Despite my reservations I did not cause a scene – even when she directed us to the COOLER to get our ‘fresh orange juice’. That’s right. Minute Maid orange juice at $2.00 / bottle.  I scowled – but proceeded to my seat in the booth after swiping an ice tea to make me feel better– as if I had much of a choice – what to do now?

 

We are a family of four. Our son is 12, our daughter nine. The woman brought us FIVE plates of food with side orders. That’s right. All the things we did not order. Andre cancelled his side order because we had no room at the table and she offered to take back the toast and brought us back two bucks.   She didn’t offer taking back the extra MEAL she ordered for my son. Apparently NO substitutes means if you want pancakes – you better get another meal that has pancakes in it. To top it all off the food….SUCKED.

                   It SUCKED. Do you get it? SU-U-U-CKED.  And she didn’t even bring us syrup for the pancakes! Anthony – the human eating machine didn’t eat his pancakes – the toast sat piled up in the middle of the table and the lovely waffles Andre ordered looked like lego blocks. Yuck. The scrambled eggs were bland and the texture was questionable. The best part of that meal was the orange juice.

Giggling Tomatoes is NO laughing matter to me…and now you know why.              **Dee

The Lost Blogger

         It goes without saying that it has been way too long since I’ve posted a new blog, and I was shocked to discover that someone noticed besides MW – nevertheless at some point I stopped making excuses not to write one and decided to do just that. Ah – but what should I choose to write about – so much has happened and its hard to think after blogging for a whole year what one should say.

Which events should I comment upon?

There were horrible restaurants (well one in particular), a return to facebook (which was more triumphant than the first time I returned) school, strikes (the two latter have now become synonymous in my mind) a vacation…. Oh yes the vacation. And my 1 year anniversary of blogging…even that monumental occasion went unnoticed.

        I would like to take this time to thank all those who have visited my blog and taken the time to read a note or two. A bigger thanks to those who actually return and sometimes COMMENT!!! I feel like sending you really cool swag with my website name all over it but I don’t have any. I am so pleased that you would join me on this journey. I hope I have made you smile, laugh, remember, ponder … connected (as Nina said once) … and I hope to continue to do this for many years to come – online, in person or via text (literature).

 Love you all … and talk to you real real soon.

Dee

World on Fire

 

Or maybe its just the microwave in the caf. This has been one of those weeks, friends.

Yes all is not lost, and the wheels of the world are turning while the gear of time continues to grind away  my life.  But today. Today marked a new milestone for forehead slapping, logic defining moments for me.

 

It was worse than my son walking home from school on Monday when he didn’t get picked up ( it’s a 20 minute drive which equaled a 1.75 hour walk) –

 

worse than getting caught in my jogging pants on the way to the gym during the inauguration in D.C.,

 

and maybe worse than losing my journal ( It mysteriously disappeared this weekend).  

Today will be marked on the calendar for all time.

It was the spilling of my lunch that sent me over the edge this week. I had saved it especially for today. It was butter chicken and garlic naan bought from Shan E Darbar on Airport Road ( their food is heavenly). Oh how I recall the buttery smell of its sauce as it melted over the spiced oven baked flat bread. This was all before I got out of the elevator while trying to hold a conversation with a very … pervasive individual – and then it happened. It wasn’t just a spill or topple – it was an all out somersault of the plastic container that left my food – ALL OF MY FOOD on the carpet with not a morsel to spare. Did I mention how famished I was? I almost cried.

 

When I got back to my desk, my colleague saw my grief stricken face and then at my empty container. She offered a portion of her own lunch which I accepted with gratitude. From Indian to Lebanese fare. Sounded like a plan. Of course, that was until the microwave caught on fire.  I carelessly assumed that the bread was wrapped in paper before tossing it in for 30 seconds, but it was actually aluminum foil on the inside. Yeah….

So as I was gleefully watching President Obama address the nation – I was simultaneously burning the company to the ground – whilst preparing something to eat. Now that is what I call multi tasking.

 

P.S.

 

The bread was delicious …and the microwave has never been cleaner.  

 

 

This is just one of those days.

 

Stay safe,

 

Dee

The Kilometre that nearly killed me

Yeah – about that kilometer Sooo I’m not sure if I actually ran that kilometer – but I may have walked it. At Heartland Town Centre – that is!!!

I practiced my favourite exercise of all. Its the art of  Salegala. Salegala is an ancient form of mediatation and excercise that provides balance. It can be done alone or with friends, but what I love about it most is that even if you only do it one time – you can see AND feel the results.

 I use it as an alternative to my previously discussed 1 Km routine, so that I still get my time-out time and my cardio. Today’s regimin  included a lot of pacing back and forth between the isles…at Costa Blanca, and mastering the art of  yoga-like Tree poses whilst trying on shoes.

 I’ve been meaning to go back to the gym – but I was busy today and yesterday and the three days before that – so I was glad I had my Salegala routine to fall back on because it sure makes a girl feel good.  I’m back to my old routine this week and i’ve thrown in some creative moves by taking the stairs all the time and purposely coming late to work so that I have to park my car all the way at the end of the bloody parking lot. The minus 20 degree weather is a …motivator to walk faster, harder and drive that blood pressure – I mean  – hearbeat all the way up.

 I just thought you should know how it was all coming along – this new fitness fad I’ve adopted.

Next week – I’ll get right back on the wagon. Its never a lost cause.

See you at the finish line!

Dee