Friday, July 25, 2003

Pish Tosh, Go Posh

Maybe it's my near-debilitating hangover, maybe it's my encyclopedic knowledge of all things trivial, but I learned something the other day that I simply must share with you - the origin of the word "posh".

"They" say (whoever "they" are, I love "them"), that in the early days of sea voyage, first-class passengers knew to book port-side cabins on western voyages, and starboard cabins for the return trip home. This way, they avoided the harsh mid-day sun and were able to keep their cabins relatively cool. Portside-Out-Starboard-Home bookings soon became known as posh bookings. There you have it.

Take this nugget of information into your weekend and impress your friends and family. This is my gift to you. Off you go.

Getting Off
I saw a guy interfering with himself behind city hall yesterday. This is the second time this week that I've been amused by something that would normally upset me (the first incident being the token thief - see July 21 post, below). Oh well. They say you can't beat city hall... unless you go out back in the bushes...

Not Getting Off
"Broadview, last stop," the bus driver called for the third time, turning to glare and the woman sitting resolutely in a front seat. "I'm sick and tired of you guys short-turning. I'm not getting off," she pouts, and then I think she started crying! I, however, did get off, and I'm very curious about how things turned out for her.

Getting Off Easy
The 82 year old Kiddie Porn Pig died in prison last night. What a lucky break. No trial, no conviction, no enduring public humiliation. I'm certain he's already in The Monster Room, a dark corner of Heaven reserved for the likes of Clifford Olsen, Pol Pot, Bernardo/Holmoka et. al.

Anyway, I know that you're not here to read my witty nitty observations. Here's the Friday Five, Icy-style:

1. If your life were a movie, what would the title be?
Frosted Preserves

2. What songs would be on the soundtrack?
Independent Love Song, Someone Saved my Life Tonight, Burning Down the House, and lots from the Afro Cuban All Stars and Bueno Vista Social Club.

3. Would it be a live-action film or animated? Why?
Well, live, yes, but not too much action.

4. Casting: who would play you, members of your family, friends, etc?
Melissa Gilbert could play me. Don't groan. She's cute and has nice hair. Kate Beckinsale will play Icy, Goldberg will play Mr. Crabby, and Jada Pinkett would make a great Sister StaceyPatrick. An innovative departure from obvious casting, yes, but they're both hip and edgy and creative.

5. Describe the movie preview/trailer.
B-roll of me falling down stairs, tripping on sidewalk, spilling juice, shattering wine glasses, cutting myself shaving, burning myself on stove, with Erasure's Respect blaring.

Thursday, July 24, 2003

Street Scene
Gum-speckled sidewalk
Pretty summer toes.
That's what I see out there.
Can't bother to raise my eyes,
Knowing about you three
One free
Out there.

Monday, July 21, 2003

Me and all my "ologists"

I took a vacation day today, thinking that it would be less stressful to cram all my medical necessities into one day, rather than taking brief chunks out of my work life for each appointment. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Never do this. Perhaps it was the rain that raised my once-youthful blood pressure; perhaps it was the random act of crime at Jane and Bloor. Who knows? The good news is that I left my annual check-up in "good health", but with two referrals to other "ologists", and two prescriptions. The bad news is that I got ripped off.

Scenario: Jane and Bloor (nice enough area), 1:45 p.m. Half-blind, no wait - I'm already half-blind.... Three-quarters blind from the ophthalmologist's eye drops, I'm fishing through my wallet for a subway token on the sidewalk outside the station. "Hey," I say to some guy standing nearby. "I've just come from the eye doctor. Is this a token, or a dime?" Well, frost my preserves and upend me on a toothpick, doesn't the guy grab it out of my hand and run away? I guess it was a token. Nominations for Stewpidist Stewpid Head of the Year are pouring in, particularly since leaving my keys in the front door lock two nights in a row. Whatever will we do with me?

Icy's right: dim sum was fun, but I got so stressed out about the vermin crawling around Sister's purse that I barely enjoyed my uncharateristic but rampant consumerism. New purse, new jewellery, new placemats... sheer exhaustion. And again, the rain. Why do we bother with hair-straightening product on rainy days? Why do I insist on wearing open-toed sandals in Manky Town? Why, I ask? Why?