Woe is me …

Here it is, almost Christmas and she’s pissed at me.  I thought this was the season to be jolly!  You know, HO! HO! HO!  Fa la laXmasCat la la and all that jazz!

Harumph!  All she is, is grumpy!  No Christmas spirit what so ever!

S-C-R-O-O-G-E.

She knows I need a lot of attention.  All that bull about cats being uppity and independent is just that:  BULL!!  This isn’t her first rodeo.  She’s had plenty of cats.  She knows the score.  She KNOWS what we’re like.

So I want to be petted.  So I want to be hugged.  So I want to cuddle.  So I want her to Continue reading

The perfect spot …

The other day Michelle (The Green Study), a blogger I follow, wrote about her quest to find the perfect place to write; and then park benchasked us, her fellow bloggers, to share how we “create space and time to work.”

When I reviewed my rather long-winded (sorry, Michelle) comment I thought, to myself, “This isn’t a comment, it’s a blog post.” So I decided to keep Michelle’s idea going by sharing what works best for me; and hopefully you’ll be inspired to do the same.  Here goes:

I am one of the lucky ones. A career as an ad agency writer/creative director has

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Moments in time …

Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have a camera with you at all times?  Well, technically, with camera taking photosphones we do, but I mean to use it?  Constantly.  Every minute of every day.  Freezing all the moments in time that become your life.

Keeping them intact, as it were.  A limitless panorama, there for you to look at, whenever you felt the need or the desire.  An opportunity to review, re-live, enjoy again, remind yourself of the lessons you learned, wonder what might have happened if you hadn’t stopped to take that, particular photograph.  What might have happened Continue reading

Promise you won’t tell … ?

Looking to numb my brain for a bit last weekend I turned to the TV and started channel surfing landing, eventually, on Big Bang Theory.  Are you whisperfamiliar with it?  It’s a terrific show, actually — a sitcom (which I usually don’t like) now in its eighth season.

There are five main characters.  Two geeky physicists, Sheldon and Leonard, who share an apartment … Penny, a waitress, who lives across the hall (who Leonard lusts after, with varying degrees of success) and their two equally geeky friends, Howard (an aerospace engineer) and Raj (an astrophysicist).

Anyway, in the episode I watched, which happened to be a re-run of an old show, Sheldon, who is my favourite character, was angsting because Penny had shared a secret with him and asked, Continue reading

Whatever happened to love at first sight?

I love reading the Sunday New York Times.  I look forward to it all week.  Sometimes it takes me the better part of the week to get through it all, but I read it from cover to cover.  Every section.  Well that’s not entirely true.  I don’t read the sports section. Occasionally I skim it, but I don’t even do that all the time.

What I never miss, though, are the wedding announcements.  Why, God only knows.  I don’t know any of the brides and grooms.  So why should I give a toss that they’re getting married, where they’re getting married, who their parents are or what any of
them do for a living.

But I do, it seems.

Does this mean I’m a real nosy parker?  A hopeless romantic?  Someone who needs a

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(sigh) … those were the days …

Last week, last Wednesday to be precise, Julie over at Sow, Sew, So wrote a blog that really resonated with me; and the next thing I knew I was taking a little night owltrip down memory lane.  She was talking about how she used to be able to stay up late and never seemed to get tired.  Boy oh boy, do I ever get that.

When I was in my twenties, back in Montreal, I don’t think I got four hours sleep a night.  I’d work all day. Then I’d meet a friend at her favourite bar — Tiffany’s on Crescent Street.  It’s gone now, sadly.  It was in a Victorian style house — the bar was on the main floor and there was a terrific restaurant, owned by the same guy — George Durst — upstairs.  At that time he was Montreal’s club king; and he was definitely a very strange guy, okay creepy.  He had two pet cheetahs he would walk on leashes, like a couple of dogs.  They Continue reading

Guess what folks …

… we’re not in Kansas anymore.  We’ve had a series of wake-up calls recently in Canada, but the same is true pretty much everywhere.  This may come as a yellow brick roadnasty, unwelcome surprise to a lot of people out there, but crime, drug and alcohol addiction and bad and even deviant behaviour is not the exclusive territory of the underprivileged and uneducated among us.

Easy and convenient as it’s always been to point fingers at them, while denying, ignoring and doing nothing about what’s going on behind closed doors right in our own backyards.  Yes, my dears, on university campuses, in corporate boardrooms nice, middle class neighbourhoods and luxurious penthouse apartments and sprawling estates.

Just look at our soon to be former mayor, Rob Ford.  There are videos of him drunk, consorting with criminals, buying crack, making offensive racial slurs and comments about women and even threatening to kill people.  He’s got three siblings — two brothers and a sister and each and every one of them has had involvement with drugs.

His brother, Doug, sold hash in the ’80s.  His brother, Randy, not only sold drugs, he was once charged in relation to a drug-related kidnapping.  His sister, Kathy, is an addict, among other things, and Rob Ford was caught yet again on video, while at her house, in her basement, smoking crack with her.  It was after that he finally ended up in rehab; and she’s been

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It appears the well has run dry …

… at least temporarily.  At least I hope it’s temporary.  I’m referring, of course, to the fact that I’m sitting here, completely uninspired.  Not a thought in my head. empty1I knew it would come to this when the whole week passed without an idea coming to me.  Not even a mediocre idea.  Not that I’d want a mediocre idea.  Not that I’d use a mediocre idea.  But still.

It seemed odd, to be honest, because I’ve been on such a roll lately.  I’ve been struck with new ideas, for new blog posts while I’m writing posts, for God sake.  I’ve had to stop what I was doing, stop writing, just so I could jot down the gist of the  idea, so I’d remember enough of it to get back to it, later.  I’ve had blog posts stock piled, all written, saved and ready to be published in coming weeks.

And now, suddenly, nothing.  N-O-T-H-I-N-G .  Nada.  My mind’s a complete blank.

Well, not totally blank, just as far as ideas go.  With everything going on in the world you’d think I’d have

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Glory Hallelujah!

Yes, I am happy.  Very happy.  Jumping for joy happy.  Nope, I did not win a lottery.  This is better, actually.  Yeah, better than winning a lottery.  I may actually breakthroughhave talked about this before.  Doesn’t matter.  I’m gonna talk about it again.  It’s different this time anyhow.

For at least the last twenty years I’ve wanted to write a book.  Nothing to do with ego, I have just always thought there was one in me.  God knows I tried.  I gave myself headaches trying to come up with topics.  I’d write a few sentences, maybe a paragraph or two, only to end up ripping the sheet of paper off the pad, crumpling it up in a ball and tossing it.  I even took a book writing course, which I really enjoyed.  Not that

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Will the real (name) please stand up?

Who do you see when you look in the mirror?  No, I’m not trying to be a smart ass; and it’s not a trick question.  I’m being serious.  Because it doesn’t necessarilyfaceless mean it’s your own true self you’re staring at.  In my experience, at one time or another, we’ve all created a persona we’ve sent out there into the world.

Sometimes it’s who, or what, others — like our parents or spouses or teachers — want us to be.  How many young men and women have become doctors or lawyers or firefighters or teachers or have gotten married or had children in an effort to please their folks — only to end up miserable because they wanted to do something else with their lives?

Sometimes it’s us.  We wish we were like a character we enjoyed in a book or a film.  Or more like a friend or colleague.  Someone we think is more interesting or more intelligent or more successful or more admired or more charming or more memorable.  Someone who seems to have a more exciting, more fulfilling life.  Someone who’s braver than we are.  More daring.  More adventurous.  Naughtier.  Funnier.  More

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