Have you noticed that all the really cool blogs give things away to their readers? Our little blog would certainly love to emulate these blogs and give our dear readers a chance to win cool prizes. Unfortunately, we don't seem to have quite the same readership or advertising dollars.
However, I do have a credit for $14.56 at Canadian Tire and would love to give it to you, dear reader. To win this prize you must leave a comment telling us how you found our blog. The winner will be drawn randomly. Contest closes some time soon!
On your mark, get set, go!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Don't do drugs
The small city that I live in seems to have an overwhelming amount of new drug users. We even have 2 red zones - which means that if a crackhead gets arrested and then is seen in the zone again, they are automatically arrested. I steer clear of the red zone because getting arrested once is enough for me. Honestly, I am not even sure what crack is, but I really do avoid these scary areas.
What it means for our small town though, is that the shady folk have to move their crime around - which is terribly inconvenient for them - making it that more difficult to find those end buyers. We used to only have one red zone and have just recently just moved up to two - if they keep moving, maybe we can get the whole town declared.
Recently I started working in our community arts centre located in the city's biggest and nicest park - think Central Park and scale it down to about a block. This area seems to be the on its way to becoming the next red zone. Right now it is just a healthy shade of pink. A gentleman came into the centre the other day inquiring about woodworking courses and when he could sign up for them, leaving his name and address for us to contact him with the information. Then he wandered around the lobby looking at everything and asking very nicely if "anyone could buy a cup of coffee?" We keep a bowl in the lobby that all the artists drop a dollar in to pay for their coffee. We said of course he could buy a cup. The gentleman turned his back to us, coughed, and dumped the bowl of money into his bag. We didn't exactly see him but we knew what he had done. He did, however, put a dollar back in the bowl to pay for his coffee.
It was just me and another woman in the lobby so we didn't confront him about it, but we weren't very nice to him, and he left shortly after. We phoned the number he had given, thinking okay, really, could he be that dumb? But the number wasn't in service.
Around the same time the next day he comes rushing into the lobby with his girlfriend. They both went straight over to where the coffee bowl used to be - we had already moved it to the front desk - and about 4 of us surrounded them. We all had a lovely chat and then they left.
So drugs don't just make you stupid - they also make you think that everyone around you is stupid, too. Did he think we would leave the bowl out for him and his friends to partake in every day? Perhaps he should have maybe left a day or two in between his visits.
I like to think that by moving the bowl I did my part in fighting the war on drugs.
What it means for our small town though, is that the shady folk have to move their crime around - which is terribly inconvenient for them - making it that more difficult to find those end buyers. We used to only have one red zone and have just recently just moved up to two - if they keep moving, maybe we can get the whole town declared.
Recently I started working in our community arts centre located in the city's biggest and nicest park - think Central Park and scale it down to about a block. This area seems to be the on its way to becoming the next red zone. Right now it is just a healthy shade of pink. A gentleman came into the centre the other day inquiring about woodworking courses and when he could sign up for them, leaving his name and address for us to contact him with the information. Then he wandered around the lobby looking at everything and asking very nicely if "anyone could buy a cup of coffee?" We keep a bowl in the lobby that all the artists drop a dollar in to pay for their coffee. We said of course he could buy a cup. The gentleman turned his back to us, coughed, and dumped the bowl of money into his bag. We didn't exactly see him but we knew what he had done. He did, however, put a dollar back in the bowl to pay for his coffee.
It was just me and another woman in the lobby so we didn't confront him about it, but we weren't very nice to him, and he left shortly after. We phoned the number he had given, thinking okay, really, could he be that dumb? But the number wasn't in service.
Around the same time the next day he comes rushing into the lobby with his girlfriend. They both went straight over to where the coffee bowl used to be - we had already moved it to the front desk - and about 4 of us surrounded them. We all had a lovely chat and then they left.
So drugs don't just make you stupid - they also make you think that everyone around you is stupid, too. Did he think we would leave the bowl out for him and his friends to partake in every day? Perhaps he should have maybe left a day or two in between his visits.
I like to think that by moving the bowl I did my part in fighting the war on drugs.
Friday, June 20, 2008
The people in your neighbourhood
I just moved onto a new street and the local wisdom is that the people who across the street from me are drug dealers. There seem to be a lot of expensive trucks and motorcycles that come and go on a frequent basis, but having bad taste doesn't necessarily incriminate a person. I think it's more likely that that rather than drug dealers, they're simply drug users. However, two weeks ago, they advertised a garage sale at their house, but when Saturday morning came, there was nary a fondue pot to be found. This week, they've listed another garage sale, so I now hold the theory is that the garage sale ad is really an encoded advertisement for a new shipment of drugs. They won't be able to keep up this sham very long because dedicated garage sale shoppers are a force to be reckoned with, and if they do a drive-by more than twice looking for a cut-rate crimping iron, they're liable to take matters into their own hands.
Yes, life in a small town really is this interesting. Today I learned through my staff weekly newsletter that my neighbours are splitting up. Because I live in a small town, I happen to live next door to a woman who works in my department and in the "welcomes and farewells" section, there was a farewell to my neighbour, who is moving back down south. I promptly tapped myself into the departmental grapevine and got the low-down on their short-lived romance. It really saved me the effort of having to befriend her, go out to lunch, get her relationship story, then see her off back to the big city. I'm all about efficiency.
More news from the suburbs next week, when I'll be reporting on the local federal PC candidate's fundraising barbecue. Our government: funded by your weenies.
Yes, life in a small town really is this interesting. Today I learned through my staff weekly newsletter that my neighbours are splitting up. Because I live in a small town, I happen to live next door to a woman who works in my department and in the "welcomes and farewells" section, there was a farewell to my neighbour, who is moving back down south. I promptly tapped myself into the departmental grapevine and got the low-down on their short-lived romance. It really saved me the effort of having to befriend her, go out to lunch, get her relationship story, then see her off back to the big city. I'm all about efficiency.
More news from the suburbs next week, when I'll be reporting on the local federal PC candidate's fundraising barbecue. Our government: funded by your weenies.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Hello Drooling Reader
Many of you are probably wondering why posts on this blog are so sporadic and disjointed. That is because the three of us are amateur psychologists and this is a Pavlovian blog. Posts will be completely random, in order to increase the excitement you feel when a post is made.
You will probably need to buy a few new hankerchiefs.
You will probably need to buy a few new hankerchiefs.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Growing Up Young
My son graduates next week and there has been much discussion as to what he wants to be when he grows up. How is an 18-year-old supposed to decide such things? I don't even know what I want to be when I grow up. Wait, did I already grow up? Did I miss it?
Sometimes I still wonder if I am doing what I am supposed to be doing. I think having said 18-year-old when I was just 18 years old has given me much reason to ponder as of late. How the hell did I have a child at 18? There is no way I can see my son with a child. It makes me feel very sorry for my mom. Sorry, mom. If my child got someone pregnant at his age I think I would beat him. Thanks for not beating me, mom. I mean, really, you shouldn't beat a pregnant woman/girl. But thanks.
Having a son who is ready to "leave the nest" has really made my brain hurt - have I done all the right things? Is he ready? Was I a good mom? Did he do okay having a "teenage" mom? What would my life had been like if I hadn't gotten pregnant? Would I be that famous graphic designer that I wanted to be when I was in grade 12?
I look back at the last 18 years of my life and all these questions, and I think "nope, wouldn't change a damn thing." There is nothing better I could be doing in this world than raising this young, soon-to-be-a man.
Sometimes I still wonder if I am doing what I am supposed to be doing. I think having said 18-year-old when I was just 18 years old has given me much reason to ponder as of late. How the hell did I have a child at 18? There is no way I can see my son with a child. It makes me feel very sorry for my mom. Sorry, mom. If my child got someone pregnant at his age I think I would beat him. Thanks for not beating me, mom. I mean, really, you shouldn't beat a pregnant woman/girl. But thanks.
Having a son who is ready to "leave the nest" has really made my brain hurt - have I done all the right things? Is he ready? Was I a good mom? Did he do okay having a "teenage" mom? What would my life had been like if I hadn't gotten pregnant? Would I be that famous graphic designer that I wanted to be when I was in grade 12?
I look back at the last 18 years of my life and all these questions, and I think "nope, wouldn't change a damn thing." There is nothing better I could be doing in this world than raising this young, soon-to-be-a man.
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