A new look

I was feeling the need for a new look for this space - que pensez-vous?

The tabs at the top will take you to my flickr account and to the for good productions blog but as of yet I have not quite figured out how to change the titles.

Hope you enjoy!

If you keep at it, one day the pendulum swings

"Gender inequality is damaging the lives of women in indescribable ways" - Stephen Lewis

Here is a short but thoughtful interview with a man who truly understands what is at stake in regards to sexual violence and HIV/AIDS

http://www.cbc.ca/thehour/videos.html?id=942194538

Beware the wolf in sheep's clothing

Ever read something and the absurdity of it made you laugh out loud - almost embarrassingly so?

I had just that experience today:

"Our Government values the contribution and hard work of our public servants. They must be fairly compensated for their work on behalf of Canadians"

*falls to floor, rolls around laughing*

*re-reads sentence and laughs to the point of hyperventilation*

*wipes tears*

Whoooo! That is a knee slapper!!

The punchline to this particular joke is even better:

"The legislation would also temporarily suspend the right to strike through 2010–11."

That's right - the Government is passing legislation to "temporarily" suspend the right to strike. And the best part? They say it's in response to the current economic climate.

*gathers self from new bout of hysterical laughter*

As if the right to strike has anything to do with the economic situation. It has everything to do with the loathing and contempt this particular government feels for its civil service. It will - and has - at numerous opportunities derided, disrespected and dismissed the work done by the civil service. I enjoy their delusion of how they think they don't "need" the public service.

Of course they don't.

Because in their mind they think the monkeys currently working at the Japanese restaurant could do the work us "silly servants" do.

Good luck with that.

Don't get me wrong - I have absolutely no desire to strike. Been there. Done that. Never got the strike pay. But this is an encroachment on the legal rights that government workers have and it has nothing to do with the economy. They have already forced a wage settlement on us; one that is less than the rate of inflation or cost of living.

The government has embarked upon a Renewal of the Public Service. Curious to see the marketing slogans for that. "Let us be your employer of choice and we will make sure you feel undervalued and mocked at every turn."

I don't mean to alarm the Prime Minister and the Finance Minister but their sheep costume portraying them as soft and fuzzy isn't fooling anyone.

Self-inflicted masochism

So I recently hired a personal trainer (and for those of you who stumbled across this entry hoping that I'm about to talk about my love of whips and spankings, you have so come to the wrong place!) He insists his name is Andrew but four sessions in I'm pretty sure it's Torquemada.


Our initial meeting was quite friendly and encouraging. Of course that's how they train these masters of pain, isn't it? Lure in the poor unsuspecting victim by being cordial and once you have them in your clutches then you can have them crying for their mama! (for the record, I have not cried for my momma yet though I may have whimpered a few times)


Andrew Torquemada asked me if I had any injuries I was dealing with. None really - just a pesky knee.


"Oh, did you hurt it?"


"In a manner of speaking. I tore my ACL, my MCL, my cartilage and dislocated my knee cap. I've had it reconstructed twice and I've been assured there is definitely one if not two more surgeries in my future."


"I see" he replies, pulling on his beard (this should have been my first clue as to his evil ways). "So we need to work it extra hard then and get it stronger."


"Sure!" I agree happily, blinded by the happy pheromones I'm sure GoodLife pumps into the air when people are signing up for training.


"Terrific! Sign here and I'll see you tomorrow."




******


Four sessions later and I'm pretty sure he's trying to kill me. There are no cameras allowed at the gym but I did manage to find an artistic rendering of a typical session with Andrew Torquemada:










Today, he had me doing something call the bear walk - said it should come naturally to me. At first I wasn't sure if it wasn't some kind of veiled comment about my body hair and I was about to tell him I had an appointment at the spa next week and I haven't even had 5 minutes to breathe in almost a month but then it was clear he was talking about my coordination. My hair trigger temper apparently has not been beaten back into submission (just ask the asshole who nearly ran me down yesterday when I was walking with.the.light.)


What baffles me more than the masochistic nature of my trainer is that I willingly show up to these sessions. I think I'm confused on the drive over and tell myself it won't be as bad as I think it will be. And I'm usually right - it's worse.


Today we did mostly arms after the knee specific stuff. Terrific. Fabulous. I'm not entirely sure the proper result is me not being able to lift my hands. In case you're wondering, I'm typing this with my nose.


And when he waves to me at the end of one of our sessions (I'd wave back but that would mean I was able to lift my arms) and says "See you next time!" I cheerily reply, "Absolutely!"


The things we do to ourselves.

Lest we forget

Wherever you are tomorrow, whatever you are doing, take a minute - maybe even take two - and say thanks. And count your lucky stars that people born long before you were a twinkle in your daddy's eye crossed an ocean and fought battles on foreign soil so that we could live here and not live in situations like in the Congo, Afghanistan or Zimbabwe.

In Flanders fields the poppies blowBetween the crosses, row on row,That mark our place; and in the skyThe larks, still bravely singing, flyScarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days agoWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,Loved, and were loved, and now we lieIn Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:To you from failing hands we throwThe torch; be yours to hold it high.If ye break faith with us who dieWe shall not sleep, though poppies growIn Flanders Fields.

In search of a groove

So I'm all moved. For the fourth time in six years or some such equation. I would like to say that's it for a while but with any luck next year I will be on the move again so I best just enjoy being done for now as opposed to done for a long time.

The interesting thing about moving is how your routine and habits change in response. I'm mostly out of my boxes but it's not a case of just picking up where you left off. Everything is different though faintly familiar. Space is different, how you move in it, what you want to do with it, it's all different. Different can be good but it does throw the rhythm off just a little. So I'm looking for my groove - it's not far at all - just hiding under some things, I'm sure.

So if I'm a little wonky about being in touch, please be patient. I'm still sorting it out but am thinking of all of you.

I'm actually excited about my new groove because it means new possibilities and I love the idea of things waiting to be discovered.

****

ps - I have made my mind up about how I'm going to respond to the situation in the Congo. I'll have something to share with everyone next week.

pps - I've been playing the soundtrack for Rent in my car a lot lately and it never fails but I giggle like mad as I sing along with the cast to the line 'sodomy, it's between God and me'

xoxo