Posted by zoom! on November 18, 2008, at 10:35 pm |
I spent today at the University of Ottawa, participating in the Homelessness Forum, which is an annual one-day conference organized by the Ottawa Alliance to End Homelessness.
This is a unusual event in that it’s free and people without homes are strongly encouraged to participate. This kind of diversity tends to create an interesting group dynamic.
The welcome address was interrupted by an unexpected appearance and speech from former Minister of Justice Allan Rock, which in turn was interrupted by an unexpected fire alarm, which put us all out on the cold street for fifteen minutes.
Once we got back in the building, there were two back-to-back panels (one about the criminalization of homelessness, and the other about homelessness and the media). Then we broke into smaller groups to discuss various topics over lunch. I was in the harm reduction group, but it was a really tough choice – the media group looked good too.
This was followed by a keynote address by Michael Shapcott, who is one of the top housing policy wonks in Canada AND he’s a blogger.
Speaking of bloggers, Ottawa Citizen blogger Kate Heartfield was there too, as part of the media panel. She addressed an interesting question about the thin line between pitching a human interest story and exploiting people who are vulnerable, especially as it pertains to organizations trying to attract media attention.
I had an interesting conversation with some of the people at my table about Mayor Larry O’Brien. Some of them work at City Hall. They were upset not only because their manager, Russell Mawby, just got axed, but because Mayor Larry expressed such glee over it. It would be easier to cut Mayor Larry some slack for being a moron if he wasn’t such a jerk, you know what I mean?
Anyway, it’s late and I’m tired, so I’m just going to share one of the highlights from today:
Michael Shapcott’s kind of pissed about the bailout of the banking industry. It makes him think about the time he went begging to the government for money to eliminate homelessness. He had a solution, but he needed two billion dollars to implement it. He felt awful asking for two billion dollars, because he knew two billion dollars was a lot of money.
At least he thought he knew that. Now he realizes two billion dollars is nothing. Governments who say they have no money for homelessness can clap their hands and make four point five trillion dollars materialize out of nowhere, for banks. If they’re motivated, anything is do-able.
He was also having some trouble wrapping his head around what four point five trillion dollars means. It’s a lot, we all know that, but how much? $4,500,000,000,000. (Is that right?) Well, apparently if you stacked four point five trillion American dollar bills one on top of the other, your stack would reach from here to the moon.
“I took my 17-year-old son outside one night,” he said, “and I pointed at the moon, and I told him this. And he was kind of interested and then he went back inside to his life.”
But Michael Shapcott didn’t stop there. He then tried to Canadianize the experience of comprehending that much money. Here’s what he came up with. For four point five trillion dollars, you could take every single human being on the planet out for dinner at Tim Horton’s every day for four months. Soup, sandwich, donut and coffee.
It’s a wacky world we live in. I’m not finished with this subject, but I’m beat. More wackiness tomorrow.
P.S. I wish XUP had attended this event. She has some opinions on drug policy.
Last night GC and I attended an event called TimeRaiser, which took place, oddly, amongst the tanks and fighter jets at the War Museum.
I think the TimeRaiser concept is absolutely brilliant. You pay $20 to get in. For the first couple of hours it’s basically a job fair for volunteers. You go from booth to booth, meeting representatives of non-profit organizations to see what kind of volunteer opportunities are available. Then you submit a card indicating which organizations might be a good fit for you.
The next hour is a silent art auction. You bid volunteer hours instead of money. The maximum bid is 150 volunteer hours. If you win a piece of art, you can do all your pledged volunteer hours with one organization or you can split it between multiple organizations.
GC and I were interested in nine of the 30 organizations. (We picked all the same ones because, as XUP says, we’re fused at the hip and must therefore volunteer as a team.) Some of our favourites were organizations we already knew about and liked, such as the Ottawa Folk Festival, Shepherds of Good Hope, and the Good Day Workshop. Others were new to us, like Live, Work, Play and Ottawa Riverkeepers.
As for the art, there were a couple of pieces we liked, but overall I was a little disappointed. I think the organizers could do a lot better in the art department, especially since they actually do buy the art at market value rather than asking artists to donate it.
At some point GC and I became aware that this event was intended for more youthful people than ourselves.*
Our first clue should have been the schedule. This event started at 7:00 and didn’t end until very late. Staying up past midnight in middle age is the equivalent of staying up all night in your 20s, only you have to do it without drugs.
The second clue was that things were printed in a font so small we had trouble reading them even with reading glasses on.
But the dead giveaway was when, the MC, who was kind of annoying in a full-of-himself kind of way, said something about how proud he was to see “so many people of our generation” gathered together to make the world a better place.
I nudged GC. “How come he said ‘our generation’?”
We both looked around the room, and that’s when we noticed we were the oldest people there.
“What’s up with that?” asked GC.
It’s not the first time this has happened either. It’s a recent phenomenon, but lately we’ve been the oldest people at several functions we’ve attended. In fact, at the Dusty Owl reading with Ivan E. Coyote, a woman came up to us and said “I’m going to sit with you guys because everybody else is so much younger than us.”
Even the Prime Minister of Canada and the incoming President of the United States are younger than us. That’s never happened before.
Speaking of politicians, you know who we ran into at the TimeRaiser thing last night? Ottawa Centre MPP Yasir Naqvi, whom I blogged about last week. He’s the author of that disturbing Safer Communities and Neighbourhoods Bill 106. Last night he thanked me for “asking those difficult questions” at the community meeting. He was very respectful and gracious about it.
Anyway. GC bid on this piece of art, called the Hockey Net. He went to the max on it. In the end, there was a draw among all the bidders who were willing to pledge 150 hours for that piece, and GC didn’t win it. I bid on some stuff too, but didn’t win anything either.
There are now nine non-profit organizations who have our email addresses and who know that we might be interested in volunteering for them, so I expect we’ll be hearing from them soon.
*This morning I checked the TimeRaiser website, and it wasn’t just our imagination, it really IS aimed at youth. Here’s part of their mission statement: We promote volunteerism amongst Canadians in their 20s to 30s
Posted by zoom! on November 15, 2008, at 3:33 pm |
I think today is Day 5 of my Blogging About XUP series. Only 15 more to go.
XUP seriously doubts that you want to know how she washes her face, but I say nonsense! With her permission, I am publishing her face-care regime, which she sent me this morning. Since she was so agreeable about this request, I might just ask her if I can go over to her place and make a video of her washing her face next weekend. In the meantime, and without further ado, I’m pleased to present you with XUP’s never-before-described-on-the-internet personal face-care regime.
This probably isn’t exactly what you’re looking for, but I’m happy to contribute my personal regime for you to do with as you will. Taking into account that at the advanced age of 74, I still have the skin of a three-year-old child, it’s possible that this regime just might be the answer to eternal youth….I’m just sayin’
I actually don’t put food ON my face. I also never use soap on my face; or liquid make-up, powder or anything that smells.
In the morning I splash warm water my face and then gently exfoliate with a natural facial loofah, follow up with cool water, dry and tone with a little witch-hazel on a cotton ball. Then a moisturizer. There are some good ones at natural food stores; what you choose will depend on your skin type. If you have very dry skin and have olive/dark skin a wee dab of olive oil worked through the hands and then patted onto your face, neck areas is lovely. (also very good for dry hair). I do the same thing before bed, but without the loofah exfoliating part. (once a day is enough)
Once a week I boil a pot of water with some chamomile, (or lavender or peppermint or whatever is pleasant for you) Once it’s cooled off just a teensy bit, I sit at a table with my face over the pot and a towel over my head for a little face schvitz. Five minutes is usually enough. Rinse with warm water and then apply a masque.
What kind of masque? Personally, I like those peel-off things because they take a nice layer of dead skin with them. There are many fine products at your local natural food store though that will shrink pores, moisturize, plump wrinkles, rejuvenate skin, tone, cleanse or whatever else needs doing. It’s a lot less fuss than mixing stuff up in your kitchen.
Do the masque when you have time to relax and you won’t be going out again/applying make-up that evening. Rinse your face well. Tone and moisturize.
HOWEVER, for a lasting radiant youthful glow, it’s more about what you put IN your body than ON it. Lots of water and some raw vegetables/fruits every day are essential. Not too many simple carbohydrates or too much alcohol or refined sugars, processed foods or sodium. (Definitely no smoking) Get outside for a minimum of 20 minutes every day – rain or shine and walk. No excuses.
Posted by zoom! on November 14, 2008, at 8:24 pm |
Remember last month I promised you I’d do some research on inexpensive at-home facial treatments? I’ve been working on it. I’ve read – or at least browsed – a few books on the subject.
I don’t know where to get things like powdered green algae or pure aloe vera juice, so I’ve started with the very simplest of all the masques, which has the added benefit of being good for all skin types.
Here’s the recipe:
Honey Massage Masque
(Source: Organic Body Care Recipes, by Stephanie Tourles)
Ingredients:
2-3 tsp fresh, raw, room temperature honey
I have to confess I didn’t really like it. I’m not wild about the smell of honey, especially when it’s plastered all over my face. Also – while I’m not especially fastidious – I do get a little unnerved by stickiness. Even though I’ve rinsed it all off, there is still some vestigial stickiness around the edges of my face, between my fingers, and on my mouse.
You know what being coated in honey reminded me of? It reminded me of the time I got stuck in my dress. Yes.
It was a dumb thing I did, trying on that dress. I was skinny then, but the dress was skinnier. I bought it for my mannequins. But before I dressed Genevieve in it, I thought “Oh, it’s so pretty, I should at least try it on.”
It was a gorgeous form-fitting fringed black dress. Form-fitting, that is, if you’re built like an anorexic mannequin. I knew it wouldn’t fit me. But did that stop me from trying? No, it did not.
I got into it. The problems began when I tried to get back out of it. I pulled it over my head, and that’s when I got stuck. The bottom half of the dress was pulled up tightly over my head and shoulders, while the rest of the dress continued fitting my form very tightly. I ended up writhing around on the floor, trying desperately to wriggle out of it. I couldn’t see and my arms were immobilized. I think I’d gotten them out of the sleeves but now they were stuck in some other part of the dress.
It was a very hot apartment, and all that thrashing about was making me sweat and I was getting panicky. I lived alone. There would be noone coming home to rescue me, which caused me both relief and despair. I might perish, but at least noone would see me in such a ridiculous and unbecoming predicament. Decomposition would be rapid in that very hot apartment. My dog would get hungry.
Somehow I got out of the dress and I did not perish or decompose that day. My dog ate Dog Chow.
I hadn’t thought about that experience for quite awhile, but being coated in honey today reminded me of it.
Anyway. Enjoy your honey masque and let me know how it goes, okay? (I’ve asked XUP to submit a recipe for the Inexpensive at-home facial series. I haven’t heard back yet – she’s probably all wrapped up in her new fiance!)
Posted by zoom! on November 13, 2008, at 9:14 pm |
I think I’ve mentioned before that I have a morbid fear of public speaking. I’m not even talking about public speaking like speaking into a microphone to hundreds of people from a podium on a stage. I’m talking about something as simple as the dreaded “let’s go round the table and introduce ourselves” at a meeting.
I wasn’t always this way. As a kid in elementary school I used to enter public speaking contests because I loved writing speeches. I didn’t love delivering the speeches, but it was a small price to pay for the pleasure of writing them.
Once I hit high school I became painfully shy and tongue-tied whenever people looked at me, which quickly put an end to my public speaking career. My shyness peaked in adolescence, and I’ve gradually become more comfortable in social situations over the years. But the public speaking phobia persists.
A couple of nights ago I went to a community meeting because Bill 106 was on the agenda. That’s the Safer Communities and Neighbourhoods (SCAN) bill which would erode our civil rights under the guise of making us safer from one another. I blogged about it last week. Yasir Naqvi, the MPP who authored the Bill, was at this meeting to promote it.
I was hoping somebody more eloquent than myself would say everything I was thinking, and then I could just applaud and nod when they spoke. But no-one was speaking out against the Bill, so I had to do it myself.
And I did! I spoke in public!
Okay, so it wasn’t a big crowd – only 13 people counting me. But still.
The next day XUP and I were exchanging email about it.
I said “It went well, but I quickly realized we were at an impasse and there was zero chance of either of us changing the other’s mind. In a group setting, when you don’t want to monopolize the discussion, how do you graciously exit the discussion in an ‘agreeing to disagree’ sort of way?”
XUP replied: “I find the best thing to do is to just freak out and start yelling about what a bonehead he is because he can’t see reality and that he’s a stupid, ignorant asshole who obviously doesn’t know what he’s talking about. That usually ends the conversation – especially if you storm out afterwards.”
I think I’m going to hire XUP to be my public speaking coach.
Posted by zoom! on November 12, 2008, at 9:54 pm |
Recently I was in a meeting with a couple of people, including the owner of Bridgetech Systems, which is a computer company I’ve been dealing with for years. We were discussing the roll-out of a brand new computer network at work.
Throughout the meeting, I repeatedly made the same two mistakes:
1) Whenever I wanted to say “Bridgetech” I said “Bridgehead.” (For those of you outside of Canada, Bridgehead is a collection of Canadian-owned fair trade coffee houses.)
2) Whenever I wanted to say XP (as in Windows XP), I said “XUP.”
The harder I tried to stop doing this, the more I did it.
I think Doug, the owner of Bridgetech, had encountered the Bridgehead error before, but XUP was a new one for him.
I suppose I could have explained. I could have said “Oh I have this blogger friend and her name is XUP, short for Ex Urban Pedestrian, and some people pronounce it Sup, and some people pronounce it Zoop, but I pronounce it X-U-P.” But I didn’t feel like getting into it, so I said nothing.
The other thing I always mix up is RSVP. I say RRSP instead.
My old boyfriend, Henry, could never say millennium. He always said minnellium. 1999 was a difficult year for him.
Do you have a word you always get wrong, even though you know what the right word is?
(P.S. A little birdie told me that XUP thinks I’m mentioning GC too often on my blog, so I’m going to mention XUP every day for the rest of November.)
Posted by zoom! on November 11, 2008, at 3:01 pm |
Last weekend I found myself sitting at the window table at Irene’s Pub with two local blogger friends, doing what bloggers do best: eating eggs, drinking beer, talking, and looking for things to blog about.
Andy Brown, the Chalkboard Artist, was hard at work on the chalkboard right beside us. Andy takes care of Irene’s chalkboard and five of the Royal Oak chalkboards, and some other chalkboards around town too. While he worked his magic, we inspected his tool box and leafed through his portfolio and asked him questions.
XUP asked him if you can make an actual living as a chalkboard artist.
“I’d say yes,” replied Andy with a smile, “but my wife would say no.”
Apparently chalkboard artistry pays in some combination of Guinness and money. Andy likes the Guinness more than the money. He says he’s a chalkboard artist because nobody will pay him to sit in his basement drinking Guinness and painting pictures.
These are his wife’s toenails. Andy paints toenails too, in case you need a toenail artist. His phone number is 613-283-3849 (serious chalkboard and toenail inquiries only please).
That’s his dog, Stella, and the inside of his art kit, by the way.
While we were talking to Andy, another man came in, sat at the bar nearby, and started pullling big sharp instruments out of a case. Us bloggers are a curious lot. Some might even say nosy.
Before long, we’d found out his name (Dewey), what kind of tools he made (totem pole carving tools), the kind of wood they were carved from (fruitwood, mostly apple), his aboriginal heritage (Cree – the Cree never really were totem pole carvers, but he’d studied with traditional carvers on the west coast and studied sculpture at the Emily Carr School), the location of his totem poles (mostly Alexandria Island in Ottawa, but one was just auctioned off at the Toronto Film Festival), his day job (senior policy advisor on Aboriginal housing issues), and his opinion of the Harper government (redacted).
After a bit, XUP nudged me and said “Zoom, get a picture of his buttocks for me.”
So I did. These are them, perched on a bar stool just the way XUP likes them. (You might want to visit XUP’s blog today, if you haven’t already: her entire post is about buttocks.)
Robin said he wanted the record to show that he did not participate in the buttocks discussion. So noted.
Posted by zoom! on November 10, 2008, at 12:07 pm |
Yesterday was my favourite event of the year – the annual Vintage Clothing Sale at the Chateau Laurier. I lined up and felt my adrenaline building as 10:00 drew nearer, and then there was that delicious flood of endorphins as I burst through the doorway and began my search for something special for me or my mannequins.
This year I found something so special it fulfilled a lifelong dream. I blogged about this dream in 2005.
But first I’m going to show you everything I found, in the order I found it.
Moments after bursting through that doorway, my heart leapt as I saw this incredible wool sweater. It was funky and colourful and warm and comfortable and it had pockets and a zipper and it fit me perfectly. I didn’t even negotiate, I just happily bought it for $20. Here’s a picture of Genevieve wearing it. (But it’s not hers, it’s mine: I’m going to wear it every day for the rest of my life.)
GC bought a winter dress coat which looked really good on him. (But later, after the show, he tried it on again and discovered that it was a woman’s coat and it smelled a bit like perfume and cigarettes, and there was a tiny hole where the missing button should have been, and then he regretted buying it.)
Next, I found a Gnome. He was $35 and I wasn’t sure, but he winked at me. There was just something about his face that was so charmingly conspiratorial that I had to have him.
GC found a second winter dress coat at the same booth where I bought the funky sweater. This one was cashmere and wool and it was a little big for him but it looked good anyway. Everybody said so. A woman nearby said “If you don’t buy it, I’m buying it for my husband and he’s the same size as you and just as handsome.” And then she winked at me. He got all caught up in the spirit of the moment and bought it. It was marked $60, but they gave it to him for $50. Good score.
Well then I figured he’d be all dressed up to go out on the town but I wouldn’t be able to go with him because I don’t own a winter coat. I have jackets, but no coats, which means I can’t get dressed up in the wintertime, even if I want to.
We found me a winter coat at the very same booth. It’s black and kind of swingy and it has a hood and it suits me. It was marked $60 but they gave it to me for $45 because we were now their favourite customers and they were our favourite dealers.
I got two vintage baby clothes hangers for $30. I have a small collection of them. Aren’t they sweet?
By this time we’d been shopping for two hours and we were carrying three winter coats, a sweater, a gnome and the baby hangers. It was time to go. But first I wanted to take one last look around, just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything important.
And it’s a good thing I did, because this is when I found the item that fulfilled my lifelong dream.
[insert drum roll here]
Ta-da!
I have always wanted a Davy Crockett hat. And there it was, sitting on a mannequin head, way up high on a shelf. It even went a step beyond the classic Davy Crockett hat by having a face of its own! It was too small for me, but I still loved it.
A woman passing by looked at me holding it and I guess I had that look. You know that look that says “Oh I want it, but I don’t know if I should”?
This is one of the things I love about the Vintage Clothing Sale – complete strangers will give you a pep talk when they see that you need one.
“You must buy it,” she said, “You’ll never see another one like it. It’s fantastic. It’s in great condition. Even if you only wear it once a year at Christmas dinner, you’ll never regret it.”
I beamed my thanks at her and bought it. I even negotiated a deal: $25 instead of $35.
The Kid, who is my little boy mannequin, is wearing the Davy Crockett hat. Now all I need is a suede fringed jacket and all of my childhood wardrobe dreams will have come true.
Yesterday GC, The Dog and I were wandering around the Arboretum at the Experimental Farm, when a huge flock of migrating Canada Geese flew overhead. They just kept coming and coming and coming. We stood there in awe for a minute or two, mesmerized by the endless stream of honking geese. And then I suddenly clicked back into reality, grabbed my camera and started taking pictures.
“A picture won’t capture it,” said GC, “use video!”
This was a much better idea, but by the time I had fumbled with my camera and found the video setting and figured out how to start recording, most of the geese had passed. The video shows only the tail end, but I think it’ll still give you a pretty good idea of how awesome a spectacle it was. (Make sure your speakers are on for this one.)
Popular Posts