cheryl santa maria

After spilling a cup of tea on a signed agreement and absent-mindedly shredding a (very important and unpaid) invoice, I decided I needed a break.

One of my favourite things to do when I’m stressed is to take a walk. There isn’t much scenery around my office building though, so I spend a lot of time in the four-level, above-ground parking lot. The lot is almost always deserted, which I love. Being able to wander around undisturbed gives me a much-needed feeling of invisibility.

I was making my way around the first level when I heard music, a jazzy melody coming from what sounded like a live saxophone. I followed it up to the fourth floor and there, in an isolated corner devoid of cars, stood a mousey-looking, middle aged-man. His hands moved with expert precision over keys of his saxophone and he was playing the most beautiful music.

He looked like your typical office dweller, complete with an employee ID tag on his belt loop, wrinkled dress pants and a bald spot in the middle of his head. A saxophone case was on the floor with a blackberry tossed carelessly inside. Sheet music was on a ledge, held in place with a Tim Horton’s coffee cup.

I pictured the man driving into work that morning with his saxophone tucked under his seat, excitedly plotting the perfect time to sneak away from his desk.

The whole thing left me feeling sad.

People tell you to get a full-time job and buy a house and that’s supposed to make you happy. What they don’t tell you is that the “stability” you get from being an employee and the mortgage that keeps you at a sub-par job for thirty years comes at the cost of your true aspirations.

I don’t want to have to sneak away and live my dreams for a few minutes a day. I want to live them all of the time, but I guess that’s a luxury most of us can’t afford.

I went back the next day and the man was gone. I haven’t seen him since. I guess he has more important things to do with his time.

I guess we all do.

[photo source]

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted a SOTD, so here goes.

While prepping for my interview with Yes Giantess I became reaquainted with the music of Passion Pit.

If you haven’t heard the musical stylings of these electro indie darlings, you must. “Sleepy Head” is quickly becoming my favourite PP song. The music video is pretty cool, too.

If you’d like to catch Passion Pit live, you’re in luck!  The boys are currently on tour and they will be making stops in Salt Lake City, LA, Vancouver, and the U.K.  You can get the rest of their tour dates here.  In the meantime, enjoy the music!

 

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zherMkcXdo]

Thanks to my move last week, my morning commute has increased exponentially.  Now, instead of driving 35-50 minutes/way, I can expect a 60-90 minute drive. 

Double that if there’s been an accident.

 The actual kilometre distance hasn’t changed much – from 27 to 40/way – but I now have to take a different highway.

Unfortunately for me, it’s a highway that never seems to move.

I’ve tried everything to lessen my commute. Now that school is back in session, residential areas are crowded with buses and screaming kids. The toll route is expensive and out of the way, and every time I’ve tried going through the country I get stuck at the railway tracks.

I’m a total ball of stress. Yesterday, after a particulary daunting drive, I had to take a 15 minute walk around the office building before going inside just to stop myself from shaking.

I used to love my car but now the thought of it sends pain shooting down my back. I can’t even drive to the corner store without unconsciously biting my nails and the most inconsequential things – like a turning blinker that’s been left on for too long – cause my blood to boil.

If you see a Ford Focus being driven by a girl who looks like she should be sitting on a phone book, I strongly advise you to get out of the way. The constant stress of driving is turning me into a loose canon and if you drive like a moron, I will be inclined to roll down my window and yell at you. Yelling has become my only source of release.

I have friends in Vancouver. The province is much smaller than Ontario and it has a superior transit system, meaning you don’t need a car to get around. That, combined with the beautiful weather, stunning scenery and the laid back attitude of the British Columbians leaves me wondering what the hell I’m doing in Toronto.

Yeah, I know: we’ve all gotta eat.

But if you ask me, there’s something very, very wrong with the way many of us go about earning our money.

Three hour daily commutes + not enough money + little to no vacation time + the inability to get a good nights’ sleep 5 days a week = what, exactly?

I’m not quite sure.

I guess it’s time to re-evaluate my options, but I’ll save that for another time, because today is Friday, praise Cheetos.

And what does Friday mean exactly?

Well, for starters, it means I’m one day closer to my impending doom.

Great.

I think I’m due for a vacation.

My negativity knows no bounds today.

 

Oh, happy day!

Metric has officially announced their complete Canadian tour dates, which now includes shows in Winnipeg, Saskatoon, Calgary, Edmonton, Kelowna and Vancouver.

As an added bonus, Metric will be teaming up with The Stills for all of their Ontario dates.

A list of the dates are below. To purchase tickets, visit www.ilovemetric.com.

I’ll be at one of the Massey Hall shows for sure.

See you there?

15 October Kitchener, ON Centre In The Square
16 October Montreal, QC Metropolis
17 October Montreal, QC Metropolis
19 October Ottawa, ON Civic Centre / The Salons
20 October Toronto, ON Massey Hall
21 October Toronto, ON Massey Hall
23 October London, ON Centennial Hall
24 October Hamilton, ON Wentworth Room
28 October Winnipeg, MB Burton Cummings Theatre
29 October Saskatoon, SK The Odeon
30 October Calgary, AB Big 4
31 October Edmonton, AB Northern Jubilee
02 November Kelowna, BC Kelowna Theatre
03 November Vancouver, BC Orpheum Theatre 

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqldwoDXHKg]

I wonder how your brain decides which memories to keep and which ones to discard, because some of the most useless facts and events have been cemented in my mind while milestones have been lost.

I guess that’s because trivial events can shape us in ways that we don’t even realize.

I don’t remember the time my family drove to Red Lake, nor can I remember my grandparent’s funerals.  I will, however, always remember the Green Paint Incident.

I was four at the time, maybe a little younger, and we were living in Laval, Quebec.  Having been raised by an Anglophone family in a French-speaking province, my parents started enrolling me into extra circular activites at a very early age, hoping I’d pick up some French.

It didn’t work.  I would always find the one other English speaking kid in the class and we would stubbornly stick together, like the way rice would always stick to my mother’s good cooking pot.

The Green Paint Incident occurred on my first day of art class, which took place on the floor of a school gym.  Children were sprawled out on their bellies covering the ground completely, surrounded by bright pieces of construction paper, non-toxic paint, sparkly glue and dry macaroni bits.

I was sitting in the corner trying to make myself invisible when one of the instructors came up to me.

She said something to me in French.   I stared at her blankly.Â
“What do you like more than anything else?” she asked, switching to English.
“Dogs,” I replied.
“Well then.  Why don’t  you paint a picture of a dog running through the grass.”

That sounded perfectly fine to me.

I decided that I was going to draw a picture of Skippy, my Aunt’s fat Golden Retriever, sleeping under a tree.  Skippy was far too fat to chase birds or run around so he spent most of his time dozing in the backyard.  Skippy was my very first friend and far more personable than a lot of the people I’ve met.

I decided to start with the tree.  There was a baby food jar filled with green paint in the centre of a group of kids.  I sat down beside one of them and picked up the jar.

The lid was stuck.

I turned the jar this way and that.  The lid finally came loose with a large pop and sent paint splattering everywhere.  Most of it got on me but a large glob landed right in the centre of a girl’s work in progress.

She was furious.  Her face turned red and she walked right up to me, hollering in a language I didn’t understand.  She pushed me. She screamed some more.  I said that I was sorry and I started to cry.

The Green Paint Incident left me feeling tremendously guilty.  Growing up, I would beat myself up mercilessly every time I made an innocent mistake.  It affected my social skills and my self esteem.  I stopped trying new things and I loathed my failures.

But everybody makes mistakes.  I’ve come to realize that it’s ridiculous to feel guilty about my follies, because mine are no worse than anybody else’s. 

Some people are far too angry to exist in this world.  They can’t handle the idiosyncrasies of others and they walk around in a constant state of rage, waiting for someone to screw up.  They yell at people because yelling makes them feel in control when in reality, they are hopelessly unequipped to deal with most things.

I no longer apologize when people try to make me feel guilty for simply exisiting.  

Now, I feel sorry for them. 

Their journey will be far more difficult and unfulfilling than mine.

 I had an exhausting weekend, how about you?

I moved on Friday and I’m not unpacked yet, which means that everything I own is in boxes, piled way up to the ceiling. I never realized how much junk I own and, to make matters worse, I’m running out of space. At last count I had roughly 4,567 pairs of shoes and I don’t know where to put them all.

For someone who likes to posture on about the importance of life and how we must seize the day, I sure do spend a lot of time in stores.

Oh, well.

It’s been a couple of weeks since my last news round up so here’s another one, and what perfect timing! It’s only Tuesday and already many things have happened in my neck of the woods. Unfortunately I have the attention span of a two year old though, so I’ll probably get distracted before I can get through everything.

At any rate, here’s the news.

*****

I’ll start with an old one. This one didn’t get a lot of coverage but I think it’s worth repeating.

Earlier this month, former model Liskula Cohen won a lawsuit allowing her to learn the identity of the  individual who created a (now defunct) blog that defamed her. The blog, wittily-named “Skanks in NYC”, featured pictures of Cohen and referred to her as a “skank” and a “hag”.

Upon learning the identity of the individual, Cohen plans to file a defamation lawsuit.

I think this is awesome.

Don’t get me wrong - I’m not against free speech. I use it all the time. Why, just this morning I rolled down my window and called the guy that cut me off an asshat.  It was great.  Cathartic, even. Freedom of expression is a beautiful thing.

What I am against, however, is uncensored speech that comes from anonymous source. John Moore  pointed this out a couple of weeks back, arguing that you can’t scream for free speech and then exercise that right anonymously. I agree.  Everyone is entitled to their own opinion but opinions should be voiced transparently.

Anonymous “expressions of freedom” lead to pointless trolling. The Cohen case sets an interesting precedent and I wonder if it will do anything to curb the rampant bullying that exists on the internet.

Time will tell I guess.

*****

There are probably a million different punch lines I could make about this one seeing as it involves a prominent former MPP, but I’m not gonna because it’s way too soon.

Last night around 9.45 p.m. a cyclist collided with a Westbound convertible in Toronto’s Yorkville district. What happened next is truly bizarre.

According to witnesses the cyclist, who was presumably raging mad, grabbed onto the driver’s side of the car and hung on for about 100 meters. In an attempt to shake the cyclist loose, the driver of the convertible swerved into the Eastbound lane and hopped the curb, but not before smashing into a few trees and poles.

The cyclist was taken to the hospital with massive head injuries and died about an hour later.

The driver of the convertible appears to have been Ontario’s former attorney general Michael Bryant. Once a prominent MPP in Ontario, Bryant is now the CEO of Invest Toronto  and a possible candidate to run for premier in the next provincial election.

Bryant is currently being questioned by police and that’s all we know at this point but a man has died and that is sad, sad, sad – so no snarky comments here.

*****

Here’s something pointless to distract your attention.

Dubai recently allowed Paris Hilton to film episodes of her newest disaster “My New BFF”.  She was granted access to  “state-of-the-art studios”  by the government, who is apparently eager to “to import a touch of Hollywood glamour to the Middle East.”

And this, my friends, is further evidence that the human race is done. Finished. Kaputt.

I guess Hilton’s work in cinematic masterpieces like House of Wax, The Hottie and the Nottie  and One Night in Paris are why she classifies as “Hollywood Glamour”, but I’m curious as to why uber-conservative Dubai would allow a crackheaded, dim-witted, drunk-driving space cadet into their country.

Never mind the fact that Paris Hilton is one of the most vile, selfish and UNconservative people around. What offends me most is the fact that people continue to give her attention (myself included) and consume her pointless drivel.

Anyone who ever told you that buying your way to the top doesn’t work is wrong. Paris Hilton is living, breathing proof that it most certainly does.

 

*****

There are big changes taking place at the Ontario Lottery and Gaming Commission (OLG). The government-regulated operation, which is supposed to regulate gambling practices in Ontario, underwent a huge overall yesterday when its entire senior staff was sacked amidst allegations of corruption.  It turns out the buggers at the OLG have been charging just about everything to Ontario taxpayers, including:

* $1,000 for the cancellation of a deposit on a Florida condo by Michael Sharland, the OLG’s former vice-president of security and surveillance, who took a paid leave of absence in 2007;

* $3,713 for a dinner for 38 people, including 15 bottles of wine, billed by David Myers, vice-president of lottery operations;

* Nearly $500 for a nanny charged by another OLG executive so she could attend meetings during a four-month period in 2006; and

* Golf, gym and Weight Watchers memberships, as well as small items such as a $7.70 pen refill and a $1.12 cloth grocery bag.

[source]

Expenses that did not have receipts, as well as hand-written recipes with vague descriptions, were also charged and processed. These guys are being fired with cause, meaning they won’t be getting a handsome settlement. Good.

While executives have cushy jobs and are able to expense ridiculous things the OLG crossed the line with their shopping bags and babysitters and whatnot. If I’m going to throw my money away gambling I want it to go to infrastructure and health care and not into the greedy hands of entitled executives.

Unfortunately this kind of thing happens all the time here in Canada. No wonder we rank 14th  in the world for government corruption – ahead of the freaking United States, for crying out loud.

I know I say it all the time but the future, my friends …

… is bleak.

*****

On a plus side though, I managed to hold my attention for a long time and I think I deserve a treat. Off to the shoe store then, to pick up pair # 4,568.

I’d like to say I’ll be back soon, but I probably won’t. Check back next week for more pointless rambling from yours truly.

Cheers.