Literary Masterpieces in Canada...aka...why I feel like the village idiot.

Selecting a book to read in Canada is like shopping for cream at the grocery store. You could go buy the mediocre american made cream. Or you can spend a fortune for the fresh cream milked straight from the cows teet, the cow having rested in a bed of clouds and fed only the finest grain of the land.

That's kind of like books. You could buy the mediocre American books full of frivolty and chick lit. Or you can truly aspire to read books of the sophisticae elite and read Canadian Literature.

Our authors win stuff. Lots of stuff. If there is a literary book prize, our authors are usually on the short list with a high chance of winning.

Canada is blessed with the likes of Mordechai Richler, Margaret Atwood, Rohinton Minstry, Micheal Ondaatje and company.

I read Chatelaine's annual summer book list "must -reads" and there are always a handful of Canadian books listed. There is the CBC's website which lists all these great books. And when viewers can comment, they always list books by Canadian authors with the smug knowledge that not only have they read them, but that all the other readers who comment on that book on are "in the know".

Then there is me. I can't pretend anymore. I have not read many Canadian books. I feel ashamed to admit this, but I shop for generic cream. I have these great intentions of reading these literary masterpieces, but 9 times out of 10, I reach for a romance or something equally low brow.

Here we are, in the land of talent. And while I can identify who is a Canadain author, I cannot admit ot having read many Canadian books. I yearn for the expensive cream so that I can be 'in the know', but I opt for the cheap stuff each time.

This summer, it will be different.....I am going to read ever "must -read" can-lit book so that I can join the ranks of smug book snobs. I am up for the challenge.
This year, excluding whatever books are in my book club, I am going to ready 50 Canadian Books. Operation Dani wants to be a Can-Lit Book Snob commences!

Stomping Tom Connors, where have you been all my Life? *Canada Week Post*

In honour of my Canadian ways, I am dedicating the next week or so of posts to all things Canadian! Yes mon amies. I will post all things about what it is to be Canadian and the joys (and sometimes pitfalls) that comes with being a hoser.

I was inspired the other day when I was sitting with mom and there was a Stomping Tom Connors show on (filmed in '73...when it was cool to be Canadian). The above link is the actual movie we watched. Of course, I promptly (and politely) went to the Wee Book Inn to barter for some CD's of Stomping Tom. I am not ashamed of my blatent geekiness. In fact, this might be the first time that the sales guy actually looked to me with that "you are so cool" instead of the usual scorn I get when I buy CD's from hippies. But I digress.

For those who don't know, Stomping Tom Connors is an institution. He is one of those iconic symbols. He is as proud a Canadian. In fact, did you know that he returned all of his Juno (a Canadian equiv. of the AMA award) in protest because he felt the Juno's were honouring to many forign acts. He also is going to be featured on an upcoming stamp. His life story is beyond cool. See this link -> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stompin'_Tom_Connors

His songs are totally funny hokey. He was a comedian singer long before the likes of Dennis Leary and Adam Sandler. In fact, I would say it was because of him that the genre became popular at all. Plus, you have to love the guy that gave us the hockey song, our unofficial third anthem.

He's the kind of guys that just takes random thoughts in his head and turns it into a folk song. Does't matter what the topic (potatos, ketchup, hocky, drunk whores), if it's good enough to ponder, it's good enough to sing.

If fact, check out but some of his songs on You Tube (search Stomping Tom Connors).

So to Stomping Tom Connors, I salute you!

Best picture ever!

I stole borrowed this picture from Junior. It totally rocks and pretty much describes me on a daily basis. At work, at home...it's all the same. But no one wants to make me feel better anymore. Nobody kisses my boo boo's. *sniff*.

Weight Loss Wednesday's: Letting yourself loose

Last night was very exciting because my favourite contestant, the one that inspires me, was a guest host last night...and she continues to look awesome!



But one thing bothered me about last night's episode.

Tara, one of the contestants that I can most relate to, let herself loose a competition. She has lost over 105 pounds and has also lost the greatest percentage of weight. She has won so many competitions, even with more obstacles (such as pulling a car with extra weight that the other competitors gave her).

So last night, she decided she was going to give up a 1 pound advantage at the weigh in because she didn't want everyone to target her....she wanted to show that she doesn't win all the competitions and that there are other competitors just as strategic flying under the radar.

I get her point. But I felt that with all her success, she sold herself short by allowing herself to loose.

There is this Kenny Rogers song that goes "you've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em" referring to cards.

But here's the thing. Yes, you have to know when to fold 'em...but if you have a winning hand, why do you have to not play them just to make the other people feel better?

I think I feel upset because I realize that I do that all the time. I give in so that others feel better. At work, with my friends, my family...I don't know when to keep on holding them. I fold all the time...conciously or unconciously.

So if you think about it...why when it comes to weight loss do we let ourselves fail? Why not just try winning even if it pisses others off.

Just a thought...

Final post...my day so far.

Thank-you work for sucking my soul out of me today. My holidays are but 3 days away and I will make sure to leave so much work behind. No staying late to make it easier. Nope. I want you to suffer.

Die.

Catch Up Post #3- DILF

Thanks to Joanne's husband Steve, I now have a new lexicon to add to my vocabulary. DILF.

Similar to the MILF, it's when you lust after men old enough to be your father.

So my first official DILF for consideration is ROBERT PATRICK.

Star of The Unit, The X-Files, The Terminator.

He is one hot daddy. Hot. Hot.
Please draw your attention to the strategically placed bulge. Camo can't hide that.

Catch Up Post #2- Catholic Sunday: Tears.

As a general rule, I tend to keep my emotions in check. So when the tears do flow, it's always at the most unexpected moments that catch me completely off guard. I mean, I didn't cry at my grandpa's funeral, but I sobbed uncontrollably when Megan died on One Life to Live (a soap opera). I broke my leg and no tears, but I cried hysterically at the Luxor in Las Vegas when I found out that my cat died at home.

So imagine my surprise when I almost burst into tears not once, not twice, not three times....but FOUR times at church yesterday. Having to deal with the topic of forgiveness was harder then I expected. But the realization was that by not forgiving the two men in my life who could have destroyed me, I was continuing letting them destroy me.

Now here it is on Monday...and I still want to cry (beause work sucks, but that's a whole different post). It's like a resevoir has been unleashed inside of me.

I have nothing profound to say...just saying that I'm a bit tearful lately. So if I randomly burst into tears at awkward moments, then you all know why. It's those damn ducks I tell ya...you never have them around when you need them the most.

Catch-up Post #1: Weight Loss Wednesday- Ducks and more ducks.

I know I could wait until this Wednesday to post this, but it bears being said right now.

On Tuesday's episode of The Biggest Loser, Kristen, who started at over 350 pounds, became the first girl to loose over 10O pounds! Amazing. For those people (like me sometimes) who thinks it is hopeless and feel helpless, watch this girl on this show. How can one not be inspired by that?

Anyways...

I was talking to my co-worker today. She is basically doing the position I started here with. And as the time progresses, she is turning into...well ...me. You know, you start off all happy go lucky. Then the company starts sucking the life out of you. The next thing you know, you are bitter, angry, resentful and in general misery.

But my background story is that when I was on the desk, I had this rubber duck with horns on it (and camo gear because that's how I roll). Anyways, when I was pissed off (which was almost every hour of the day), I would put this duck on my computer. And soon, people got to know that if the duck was up, then to tread carefully.

Soon, I grew confident (or careless?) enought to express how I was feeling, and the duck went into a drawer, only to be pulled out when it is time to better not say anything at all.

So anyways, said co-worker is walking down the path that I took and she goes, in an act of resigned desperation, "at least I don't have a duck". And I reply "we all have our ducks, even if you can't see them".

So what's the point to my story? Is that we all have our ducks. We all have that one thing that expresses how we feel that we associate with to describe our emotion. And it is easier to showcase the duck than to just come out and say what bothers you. It's easier for someone to come by my desk and see the duck, then to come out and ask me how I feel. And it's easier for me to have the duck express how I feel but am weighed down by misery to say.

Weight loss is as much the emotional journey. And the journey starts with some small step. So pull out your duck. Whatever it may be. Let people know. Because only when you acknowledge that you have a duck will you be able to work on expressing what the duck stands for.

U-Choose Friday- Tales of a Pigsty.

As we have already established, I am a procrastinator. I will work under duress and am the queen of the last-minute-all-nighter deadline. I can honestly say that some of my best work is under the gun.

But the downside to procrastation is that it painfully outlines my inherent laziness. And there is no more evidence of this laziness then in my house.

I don't want to say such menacing words such as "war-zone" or "disaster area" but well....let's just say that my house has currently been declared "Operation Free the Beaver".

*Warning: Mini-Confessional Time*
.......................
I have too much clothes. *sob*

There, I said it. The fat girl in me wants to keep the skinny clothes. The skinny girl is fearful of having a roasted marshmallow icecream breakdown, so wants to keep the fat clothes. The in-between girl wants to buy more clothes to compensate for some crazy childhood issue. The hoarder wants to keep the clothes "just in case". The purger wants to purge the stuff that doesn't belong to her.

So thus, everything piles up. And it becomes overwhelming. I am trying to do the small things everyday hoping it adds up. Like this week I took down my mammoth of a desk. It had more screws than my entire sexual life. But I didn't immediately buy a new desk, so now I have computer bits scattered all over.

Two steps forward...one back.

And the funny thing is that every once in a while I get all inspired, and I purge like a banshee with no regret. But then my follow throw action? Replace crap with more crap.

House cleaning for me is a bit like weightloss. Good intentions interupted by fear of success and then ultimate failure.

Any pointers from the clean at heart?

I put the "pro" in procrastinate.

I had all these wonderful blogs in my head last week. It was going to be a delicious week of divulgence. (Doesn't that sound saucy? Divulgence. Sounds a bit like indulgence).

But alas, procrastination is my nemisis. Procrastination is my achilles heel (which by the way is actually hurting...how ironic...perhaps a sign of my wicked wasteful ways catching up to me? I put off things and my ankle hurts. Hmmmm).

So anyhoo, I have some power posting to catch up on. But first, let me say this.
Gah. GAH. I hate work. GAH.

I feel better now. T-3 until holidays!
Dani.