What’s with this latest rage at shopping malls? They’re giving priority parking to (a) pregnant women and (b) people who buy hybrid cars.
What nonsense. When was it up to a grocery store to tell us how to live our lives? Here’s speciality parking for you. I’d like a special parking spot for a grumpy old lady who just wants to go buy a buggy full of groceries without moralizing on my lifestyle from a bunch of signs in the parking lot.
I take a break from my South American vacation for a moment to tell you about the worst movie ever. We just saw No Country For Old Men. It has no plot, lousy acting and the ending is a joke. Do yourself a favour and save your money.
The first stop on our trip was Montevideo, Uruguay. It’s a fascinating place. Very lively. You get the sense that the people had a lot of fun.
We hooked onto a walking tour led by an American couple, who met the boat – Celebrity’s Infinity. They charged $20 U.S. each for the tour, which we decided at the end was a bit of a rip-off. For a start, the tour took no more than an hour. And they didn’t really know very much about Montevideo.
Sure, it was useful to have someone point out places like the market – where we had a couple of cold beers afterwards. But the guy didn’t really know much about the place.
Montevideo is the place where the German warship, Graf Spee, was forced to scuttle itself during WWII. There is an interesting plaque at the quayside that tells the story of how the Germans were tricked into thinking here were more Brits there than there really were.
All in all, we thought Uruguans were more fun and more laid back than Argentinians.
Well, that was some trip. Buenos Aires, Argentina to Valparaiso, Chile in 14 days – by boat. We sailed around Cape Horn, through the Beagle Channel and saw some amazing sights.
First things first, though. We flew out of Toronto January 4th on the late night flight to Buenos Aires. It’s one heck of a long flight – almost 12 hours, through Santiago, Chile. Still, we made it with time to spare for our cruise ship - Infinity on the Celebrity Cruise Line.
It was one heck of a big ship. We set sail for Montevideo on Sunday night. Stay tuned for more.
Why, oh why, do we have to have child proof everything?
What’s with mouthwash these days, that it is so deadly they have to make it impossible for law-abiding people with halitosis to actually open the bottle? Okay, I know it has alcohol in it, but have there been so many wild, Listorene drinking parties that the rest of the world has to grapple with these ludicrous bottles?
Why is it that so many service centre on the 401 now only have McDonald’s food? For anyone trying to exercise even the slightest of dietary controls, this is a nightmare. There is almost nothing low fat on the menu.
The coffee is lousy and if you don’t like deep fried everything, you’re out of luck. At least with Tim Horton’s there are a few low fat options. Next time, I’ll just pack my own lunch.
Why is it that when I go to the grocery store and put, say 50 items in my basket, I have to wait in line to pay? Meanwhile, people who buy one to eight items get the express service? Where I come from, the person spending the most money gets the best service. And if you happen to get in the wrong lane, woe betide you. Whaddya mean, you’re buying all this stuff. You can’t good service here.
Can someone tell me, please, why so many in the media are fawning over Conrad Black and Barbara Amiel?
Okay, perhaps not quite so much now that Babs has let us all know how she really feels about us.
Apparently, reporters are all, “sluts and vermin.†With a bit of scum thrown in.
Okay, she later corrected those reports to say that the “slut†comment was directed to only one member of the media. But, pot and kettle, Barbara had a pretty good batting average when she was at the Sun, as I recall.
Still, one woman’s slut is another woman’s vermin.
She also made a snooty comment about how, as a reporter, she never “doorstepped.” No, I’ll bet she didn’t. But I bet as a newspaper proprietor, her husband’s underlings doorstepped every day. And I bet his newspapers made lots of money out of the stories they got for doing just that.
I presume what Barbara means by “doorstepping,” is the time-honoured journalistic practice of staking out newsworthy people. It is a brutal job. Reporters hate it. The worst kind of doorstepping is knocking on the door of someone who had had a loved one die recently. You then have to ask for a “pick-up” – a photograph of the dead person.
Do reporters like doing this? I’ve never met one who did. They will all acknowledge, however, that it is part of the job. Readers like to read about tragedies. So that’s why we do it.
Babs is now complaining about it? Give me a break.
This isn’t to pass judgment on Black’s guilt or innocence. Only a court will decide that. And it isn’t against the law to be a horrid person. Yet.
Just because a person is thoroughly nasty should not automatically convict them of the kind of complex criminal activity of which Black stands accused.
You can’t help thinking, however, that there is some media consultant somewhere who has been paid gazillions of bucks to rehabilitate the Blacks’ reputations from one of being snobby, Champagne-swilling, puffed up, pompous asses to benign, benevolent grandparents who just want to inform us hopeless little people of the errors of our ways.
If there is such a media consultant out there, he or she must be slitting his/her wrists after Babs’s little hissy fit. Then again, I guess they just stand to make further gazillions on more training.
As far as I’m concerned, Babs just showed herself for what she truly is. And I don’t think I have to spell it out.
I vividly remember when she worked for the Sun, she treated me appallingly – despite the fact that I was in the middle of a difficult pregnancy at that time.
I can’t decide whether I’m a slut or vermin. I’d like to be a slut, but at my age, I should be so lucky. I guess I’ll just have to settle for vermin. Oh, rats.
OOps. I had meant to write the rest of my eat-less, exercise more post before now. The second shoe to drop on the whole getting fit program is, of course, exercise.
You can’t just cut back on what you eat. You have to work out. That’s why I joined the Scarborough YMCA a few years ago.
I also threw out the door all the advice people had ever given me about exercise. You know, you have to get up at the crack of duck fart and be there for 6 a.m. The only good exercise happens early in the morning. Or so they would have you believe.
I decided I would just go to the gym when I could. And that is usually late at night. But it works for me. It gets me away from the TV … and those tempting snacks.
At the Y, I found a lovely support group of women just like myself who want to get in shaps. We encourage one another, gove each other helpful tips. It’s such a joy to drop by there at night and have one of your friends notice that you’re looking good. And even if you don’t, they are supportive enough to know that a few words of encouragement can boost anyone’s morale.
They are a pretty broad cross-section of Scarborough society. There’s the lovely Sophia, who is Greek. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in a bad mood. Even when things are down, she manages to be bubbly – and she makes everyone else feel pleased to be alive.
Then there is the lovely Rose, who keeps us all entertained with stories of her two kids. And there’s BB, who works hard in her restaurant by day. But at night, she always makes time to be there.
That’s what it takes. Perseverance and the idea that you will go to the gym, no matter what. It doesn’t matter what the weather is like. It dosen’t matter what else is going on in the world. I have to go and work out. I aim for four times a week, but it works out to be three. And I feel great – 10 years younger than when I started.
This being January, many people start to think about all those things they put off last year. Like losing weight and getting in shape.
So that makes it a good time to talk about how I lost weight and learned to love my clothes.
I’ve lost a lot of weight over the past two years. When people of my age do that, people are wary of asking them about it, for fear they are suffering from some awful disease.
So when people compliment me on my weight loss, they are often couch their comments very carefully. Basically, they say they hope I’m not sick. And if I’m well, they want to say I look better than I once did.
So, thanks for all those comments. As for how I lost weight, well there is no short cut. It’s basically the two simple rules. 1. Eat less. And 2. Exercise more.
Three years – can it really be that long – ago I joined Weight Watchers in Pickering. They meet in a plaza on Bayly street, and I find it a very supportive group. The weigh-in ladies are very supportive. The meetings are helpful and give you lots of hints about how to cut down on the calories. The most helpful meeting was one where people brought old clothes they no longer wear because they are too big. The woman who made the biggest impact on me brought in a bag with 25 lb. in weights in it. She had lost 25 lbs. Try lifting that bag and you realize just how much she wasn’t carrying around any more.
In all, I’ve lost more than 30 pounds. Imagine carrying 30 pounds of butter around every day. What does that do to your heart? To your knees. To your hips. I feel 10 years younger.
The tough part is keeping off that weight. It’s a constant battle that I fight every day. it’s especially tough over the holidays. But if you’re just starting on the journey I embarked on three years ago, good luck. Remember, it may be a tough slog, but stick with it. It’s worth it in the end.
Christina Blizzard 