Feb 26, 2009

Retirement


Time for me to shut it down, folks. For now.

My career beckons me, as a Media Consultant. Using my years of experience hosting on television and radio, I train people that expect to appear on-camera or on-air, people who represent their company or organization. I work with my clients to help them improve how they get their message across to an audience.

Sounds intriguing? Drop me an email.

As for this blog, it's retired -- perhaps temporarily. After all, if Jay-Z can come back, so can I. ; )

XOXO

Jan 30, 2009

(Deviating from Italy...)


Potentially embarrassing thing at the library today: I was going to borrow one of those self-help books, and of course I try to use the self-checkout. I don't like librarians seeing the kinds of books I read. The machine wouldn't let me check it out. So I had to go up to the counter. I set my sights on a shy-looking woman to help me. She couldn't scan the book in. So she turns and hollers, "HEY GINA! I NEED HELP WITH THIS BOOK!" Her boss comes over, and then ANOTHER guy walks over to try to add his two cents to this conundrum. As I'm staring at the crowd trying to figure out why the machine wouldn't scan, all I thought was, "Thank GOD I didn't borrow 'Sex for Dummies' or something like that."

Dec 19, 2008

Italy: Venice to Bologna

On our last day in Venice, we took a ferry to Lido. What a great beach! The cute lifeguard was kind enough to offer an umbrella for free the next day, but sadly we were leaving early in the morn.
















J doesn't show her other foot, covered in band-aids







Here came one of many personality clashes: I wanted to hit a quiet town next, but J really needed to party -- Venice wasn't a hit for clubbing. Drinking in the smaller piazzas, yes. Dancing, no. So off to Bologna, which was described as a university town with plenty of nightlife.
Unfortunately, we learned on the first night that the fun clubs shut down in September -- as many students were in school. We were bummed, until we met up with a group of kind gentlemen who chatted with us til closing time.

Italy: Venice Day 2

Jet lag bites. J and I wake up at 2 p.m., no matter how hard we try to get up earlier. To me, it feels like we're missing out on a lot, but for J it's perfect -- she's a night owl. Fabio worries we will not see enough of Venice, but we do. Everyday, we have a cafe(I'm a macchiatto, J is a cappuccino) with something covered in chocolate, walk around, smoke, admire the sights, shop, go back to the hotel, change, have a long, luxurious dinner with plenty of red wine, walk around, smoke, have a drink, smoke, sleep. This is life, and I love it!
Speaking of admiring the sights: Italy is a country for women. The men are like the Statue of David: beautiful to look at. And they will charm you and be gentlemen (except at the club, which I'll talk about in "Rome"), all in the name of getting into your panties.



Gondolas are beautiful, but a bit of a rip off. Walking's better.

Italy: Venice Day 1

Upon landing, we took a very long, slow water taxi from Da Vinci airport to our B&B, called Al Teatro or "3C", strangely. The owner, Fabio, was kind enough to guide us from the taxi stop to his establishment, situated 2 minutes from the main piazza, San Marco. Such a beautiful room! Marble floors and bathroom, large-screen t.v., a small balcony overlooking the bustling, tiny street below -- with huge shutters to keep the noise and light out. The luxury made sense, considering we were paying a fortune to stay there.
Fabio was very accomodating in helping us find a place to eat. He made reservations for us, at a place he claimed was a 10-20 minute walk away. That's the Venetian estimate. Because we set out and quickly got lost in the maze of streets. Almost no street signs. No maps (the one from the hotel was halfway useless). Every citizen, when asked for directions to this or that piazza, responded with, "Just go straight", while pointing at a BUILDING. Eventually we figured out that "just go straight" meant head to in front of you, go around a building, and keep heading that way. What also delayed us was the whiplash caused by every brick, and every statue. We were walking in history. Everything we saw and heard was a throwback to a simpler time, a renaissance time, a revolutionary time.
Of course we missed the reservation completely and ended up paying a fortune for pasta at some generic restaurant situated at the edge of a piazza. But it was the best carbonara I'd ever had. And I sat there chewing, thinking, "Holy sh*t! I'm eating pasta! In ITALY!"

Oct 3, 2008

Italy: Prequel

J was very excited about our upcoming trip to Italy. With only 4 weeks to go, she and I scoured the Internet one or two nights a week, booking B & Bs in Venice and Florence.
It became clear we were very different travelers. I've enjoyed hostels, both large and small, made do with accomodations with no safe, hung laundry in the shower overnight, used squat toilets, and never gave a thought to air conditioning. J did the opposite. The two most important things for her: private bathroom and air conditioning. Not even a fan would do.
Fair enough. We also discussed other ways our differences may creep up during our trip. I warned her about my moodiness and need for sleep. She told me her dreams of clubbing and drinking wine until the sun rose. This talk was good, it helped us reach compromise as much as possible for the 3-week trip.
We used venere.com and tripadvisor, to make sure we were booking clean, comfortable accomodations. We also contacted the hotels directly, rather than through a third-party company. Almost every hotel offered free breakfast -- which didn't matter much as you'll see in the next few posts.
This trip necessitated a fair bit of planning. I didn't speak Italian, we didn't have friends meeting us, we were not using a tour group, and Italy is expensive.
I brought a library book on Italian phrases. I wish I'd brought one for J, about how to pack as light as possible. In stair-crazy Italy, her huge, heavy luggage was a nightmare.
Our first stop: Venice.



Venetian water taxi

Jul 25, 2008

CSI: My House


When you do "the big clean" of your house, ever feel like you're covering up a crime scene?

Oh man, I *really* got him with that orange juice. The spatter's everywhere! ...How'd it end up on the ceiling?

Crap, there's those stepped-on chocolate chip cookie crumbs from three nights ago... mmmmm, chocolate.... hope my roomate doesn't mind if I sneak a few more...

*How many* pairs of shoes did I buy this year so far?

May 14, 2008

New Pix

Who's this sexy thing?

Partying in Montreal. Woot woot!

Big surprise: Montreal in January = SNOW.

Ohhhhhhh yes -- smoked meat sandwiches!

I heart Santa.

My friend blasting away at Laser Tag.

Waterbaby in Tofino.

Tofino beach.

Tofino logs.

Vastness of a Tofino beach.

Apr 8, 2008

Fight!


The media are funny. On a recent news show they played Youtube video of a girl getting beat up by a group. Right before it played the anchor stated, "Some of you may find the video disturbing," and then afterwards quoted studies that found there seems to be a trend where teens videotape fights and then post it on the net. So why the hell is the media perpetuating the cycle?

Because it isn't sexy enough to simply state that some teens got harsh sentences for this. Nooooo, you actually have to SHOW what they did. Words are not good enough, apparently. "If it bleeds, it leads" they say in the news industry.

On my street a lot of cars got keyed. This was shortly after a story that aired featuring an incident in a nearby district, where some people vandalized hundreds of cars. My bf figures the people who hit us were inspired by that news story. "Oh great," he stated, "they're probably doing it for recognition on t.v."

By the way, the photo above is not due to violence at all. I was just playing volleyball and I guess I bumped the ball too much. Sleeves for next time, I suppose?

Mar 5, 2008

The Delay

When I lived alone, life was easy (although I don't know it until now). When something needed to get done, it got done. Within the week. Now when I want to get around to something, it takes *minimum* a few days. Weeks, sometimes months. It's embarassing.

This morning, I accidentally got up too early for the start of a later shift. So I took my time eating brekkie, etc. When it was time to go, I was about to zip up my bag and noticed the zipper pull was missing. I realized I had broken it months ago, and had continually promised myself to fix it "when I have time". Today was that time. I grabbed pliers, put it all together, and now I'm happily zipping my bag closed. Two months later.

I remember when I used to almost be *bored* on my days off. I get lots of days off, by my own design. Now, I treasure even *one* evening off. When I lamented this turn of events to a co-worker, he replied, "Welcome to Adulthood!" I resent that; I hadn't been living a fairytale life, just a different sort of adulthood. I am slowly crawling towards Mommy mode. Oh my.

P.S. A reader asked about my black cat. He's doing well, and is fat as ever.