OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

At the King Eddy

This was our big ole room in Toronto...

Missed you Mags!

It was a lot different from the Motel 6 in Georgia...

Not Impressed

Hello...

I'm not impressed with my sisters absence in this weather.

Now it's really time for the holidays!

Advent Is My Passion

Woot! No racing anyone to put the Advent decorations on the tree...since I'm here all alone.

Snow Day!

The snow covers the damage on Mom's car.

Snow Day!

Whoa.

Snow Day!

Dad's truck...guess he's not driving to Corunna!

Snow Day

It took the snow ploughs hours to come since public transportation was shut down today.

Snow Day!

Riding the Crimson Wave

OK, regarding my previous post:

I stand by everything I wrote...I still feel betrayed by Nelly Potato.

But it should be acknowledged that I was PMSing hard.

I don't generally like using this excuse ever, but I am a big supporter of letting absolutely everyone know everything about my cycle.

Keeping it a secret makes it dirty.

So there you go. I wish I could say that Nelly was PMSing when she made her statements, but I am afraid I have to chalk up her words to faulty genetics or a lack of oxygen to the brain.

Loose Lips Are Utterly Idiodic

Alright, so I can't say I was really pleased about Nelly Furtado's change in music from folk-y pop to brazen stereotypical sex kitten...but I had to admit there was a certain catchy beat to her tunes.

And I will even admit to liking a couple of her new songs. I certainly don't hold my musical taste in high esteem, I love to listen to JoJo, and more infamously, Asslee Simpson.

But as I was scrolling around the Bitch Magazine website (a great site, an even better magazine as a response to popular culture, www.bitchmagazine.com) I came across a piece on Ms. Furtado. Check it:

Nelly Furtado: Like a Birdbrain
Great. Another famous women who's only too happy to perpetuate the idea that feminists are all about recruiting other women in their quest to get the entire female populace to hate dudes, renounce their sexuality, and stop shaving. Specifically, pop singer Nelly Furtado, whose vapid equation of feminism with man-hating showed up in no less than three international papers this morning: Nelly Furtado has turned her back on her feminist past because she fears it "brainwashed" her into hating men. The LIKE A BIRD singer admits she dabbled with women's rights when she first became a star, but now she's a single mum with a "secret boyfriend" she's a huge fan of guys. She says, "I went through a feminist phase and read a lot of philosophical stuff. "Some of the male-bashing brainwashed me for a bit so I stopped. I love men." I have nothing to add that isn't a really foul string of expletives.
—A.Z. permanent link Comments (36)

OK, lesson 1 in feminism for Nelly Furtado:

Feminism is not about hating anyone. It's the exact opposite, it's about loving. Loving women, respecting women, and understanding that, yes you may be able to be a success in say, the music industry, but let's not forget, Ms. Furtado that you are still required to strip down to blatant sexuality to sell records.

Remember when you made the folk pop music? Yeah, the first album was fantastic. The second? Yes, it tanked but is your response really going to be to trade it all in for a couple of hits that demean you as a woman? Promiscuous? Maneater?

My mistake, Ms. Furtado. You're completely right. The women's movement has progressed so much that even you can exploit your sexuality for monetary gains.

What the hell is the matter with you?

If anything you are an example of why feminism is so crucial at a time like this. So thank you for your idiocy and your complete misunderstanding.

The man (because I'm assuming a woman wasn't the one who had enough power to put a microphone in your hand) that created your career must be very proud.

I can't even believe you.

For feminism to work not only women have to be on board, but men as well. Hating men is detrimental to feminism, don't you see that, you twit? You've got it backwards.

But thanks for everything...I really appreciate your insight.

Your reaction doesn't add up. You call yourself open minded and interested in grassroots political action. Is this true? Or is this something that you say because it fit the image that you wanted? Now that you're "Loose" are you high tailing it to LA and dumping the independent streak?

WTF?

I'm completely confused.

For crying out loud your own mother was a chambermaid! You'd think you'd be able to identify gender equality by now! But it seems like you wouldn't know it if it smacked you on the ass like a dancer in your video.

Ha, ha! Being a commodity is so hot!

So enjoy it, sister. You may be flying high off of bouncing back from record sales, but when your next album tanks, or a younger, prettier singer comes around we'll see how important feminism is to you then.

But when you're ready, you'll be welcomed back with open arms. Because we don't hate you, we just want to smack some sense into you.

City Buses and Snow...Scary Mix

Ok, so I'm trying to do my part and take public transportation this morning and as I'm walking towards the office I almost get HIT BY A BUS.

I want to make sure that you know that it wasn't my fault.

I was walking across Queen St. obeying the rules of the road and a bus tries to turn left onto Queen St. and hit me! Apparently because it's a one way street you only have to look to the right.

That's crap.

So please be careful out there. Because of the colder weather (we have freaking SNOW on the ground) buses are now going to get crowded, slippery, wet and prone to splashing pedestrians (especially those walking along Western Rd.).

Peace.

Addictions Are, Well, Addicting. That's Why They're Called Addictions

Alright, after many months of resistance, I registered with Facebook.

For those of you who know it, you know how addictive it is.

For those of you who don't know about it, I'm hesitate to tell you about it for fear that it will take over your life as well.

Sigh, yet another way for technology to substitute (poorly) for human contact.

Check it:

Facebook me!

The Greatest Piece of Beef Ever

After the taping of the show we all met back at the hotel and decided to go out for dinner.

We walked a few blocks to The Keg next to the market.

We went in ordered drinks and got our table. To which we started screaming at each other. We didn't have an argument. We just couldn't hear each other. To some, this may not present a problem, for the Rodgers, we don't like it.

We left The Keg and started to walk back towards the hotel. And we decided to stop for dinner at Tom Jones' Steakhouse.

Very, very, very nice. Mom and Dad were there on one of their first dates. They had Chateaubriand back then, they had it again on Friday night.

However, we did encounter a noise of a different kind. At the next table over there was an older gentleman with a woman. They were lit. A bit noisy for our liking, and acting bizarrely with each other. They weren't together, but there was lots of talk of a "program" that she was in. This is a shot in the dark, but I'm guessing the program wasn't AA.

After about 25 minutes they got up to leave, finally. The woman bumped into the ice pitcher that held one of the bottles of wine they consumed. Then, the waiter brought their coats to their table. The woman put hers on and said immediately, "This is NOT my coat."

Then a quiet voice at my immediate left said, "That's my coat."

THE CRAZY DRUNK LADY WAS WEARING ANNIE'S COAT.

I just about died trying to keep the laughs in.

After that episode and Tweedledee and Tweedledum left we had a great dinner. Quite possibly one of the best EVER.

I only take off points for the lack of dessert. You'd think at a classy place like this they'd have creme brulee on the menu.

*********/**********

My Soul Mates are Literally Everywhere

So Dad and I got into a cab and headed towards the CBC building. When we got into the CBC there was a line up already for the taping. It seemed to me like there were a lot of people there, but 10 minutes later the number of people doubled.

We got our tickets, and moved to line number two, where we were shuffled off to a waiting elevator. We then waited again to board an elevator. Rode the elevator up to the 10th floor and waited again when we got off the elevator. We were then taken to Studio 42, and waited in line again to be seated.

I'm not implying anything, but this walking 10 yards, wait 10 minutes dance that we played was strikingly similar to when we were be admitted into Fort Benning.

We were seated and we had pretty good seats. We were in the middle left hand side, almost right in the middle of the crowd.

After about 20 minutes everyone was seated and the show got started. We were told when to clap, then Rick Mercer came on stage. A remarkable tiny man. I knew he was short, but I had no idea he was so teeny tiny.

So we got to see all the stuff they do every week, plus a few extras (because some of the jokes weren't too great...especially surrounding the Auditor General's findings about the ex-CFLer turned prison exec, snore).

And then in the midst, Rick and I made eye contact. First Justin, now Rick.

At the end, I was satisfied. Not bad for a free show.

Check out the episode and listen for my laugh Tuesday at 8pm on CBC.

Better Than the Motel 6?

The four of us arrived at the King Edward Hotel on King St. later than we expected.

Between picking up Annie from Guelph, getting out of London on time and Toronto rush hour traffic (it's not that bad) we arrived at our hotel at 5PM.

It was noticable to say the least that Annie was satisfied with our accomodations for the evening. She was practically buzzing when she saw the valet parking, smiling from ear to ear when she saw the door man and levitated when entered into the lobby of the hotel. For some reason she liked it better than the Motel 6 we stayed at in Georgia.

We went up to our room then started to get down to it- Dad and I got ready for our Rick Mercer Report taping at the CBC and Mom and Annie got ready to descend onto the Eatons Centre.

We were able to do this because our room was GI-NORMOUS.

A Whirlwind Weekend

Late last night the Rodgers got back from our weekend in Toronto, to say the least.