Paul Brittain's Time to shine

In light of this news item on Pajiba, I am reminded of this exchange between my sister and I:


March 6th, 2011, Facebook Chat:

Carrie: So, remember a few weeks ago, we were so happy for Paul Britain, because he finally got cast in some sketches on snl? Uh... well, it turns out that we don't know who Paul Britain is, because that was Taran Killam.
After careful perusal of last nights episode, I *think* Paul Britain played a child actor wearing a sign that said "adult", a french teenager wearing hornrimmed glasses and with no lines, and a piano player on a cruise ship with one line.
In conclusion: it is not Paul Britain's time to shine.

Me: This made me laugh and laugh. Poor Paul Britain.

***

Dear Paul Brittain,

I'm sorry we didn't spell your name correctly. I really was happy for you until I realized I was actually happy for Taran Killam. He has such a nice face. 

xoxo Marg

Holiday Texts in No Particular Order

1) 

Me: So, once I went out with a dude who all my friends said looked like Tim Allen. I never really saw it, but I'm sitting here with The Santa Clause on, and wow. 

Ben: Haha.

2)

Me: Pick one, no context: Candy Cane, marshmallow, or chai?

Mandy: Marshmelllllooow? I hope you are buying me flavoured condoms. 

Me: It's a surprise. 

3)

Carrie: We built a snowman

Me: Aw!

Carrie: She was confused by the carrot. 

Me: It is objectively very strange.

4)

Mary: It must be hard to wander around knowing you are that stupid. 

Me: Tis the season to help the less fortunate, perhaps we should donate supplies and services to assist her in life... a bag to cover her head? The service of throwing her phone in the river?

He ripped it up in a silent rage.

Some years ago, my dear friend Matthew and I attended double-bill play at the University of New Brunswick. In my memory, the first play was "Doc", thus making this was the same night in which we saw the guy playing Doc's penis by accident on stage. Good times. 

Matthew had a bad habit at the time of leaving his wallet places. Even though I am very forgetful (I left my own wallet at Pizza Twice the other night and made Ben call them to see if it was there), I often feel the need to teach people a lesson about leaving expensive things laying around. One time for example in high school, I convinced friends of mine that they had lost my video camera to prove a point about leaving theft-friendly items unattended in insecure places. They were terrified and I kept a straight face the whole time. 

The night of the play, Matthew got up during intermission, and left his wallet on his seat. I saw it, and felt the appropriate thing to do would be to hold onto it for him in my purse. Without telling him. Partly to assure him that he hadn't actually been robbed, and partly as a sick, sick joke, I removed his library card and placed it on the now empty chair. 

At this point, I got up and joined my companion in the lobby. We only returned to the theatre at the very end of intermission, which is when Matthew noticed the purple and white plastic card placed on his seat. "What's that doing there?"

It took a moment to sink in. There was a single card, yes, but no wallet. He checked his pockets. The lights were dimming, "where's my wallet?"

"What?" I asked, feigning confusion. 

"My wallet is gone!"

"The show is starting, sit down."

Matthew sat. He pawed through every pocket he owned, then whispered sharply in my ear, "My wallet is missing. I only have my library card."

I appeared shocked, confused, concerned. But the show was starting up again, we were in darkness and some student actors demanded our attention. 

Matthew held his library card in his hands. He was shaking. I began to feel perhaps I had made a grave mistake. 

As the play continued, I looked down to Matthew's lap - his hands were white as they twisted the plastic card over itself. His face pointed toward the stage, but I feel as though little of the play made an impact. He was incensed at the very world itself for this injustice - his wallet was gone, and all he was left with was this library card. 

He tore the weakened card in half.  I tried to suppress a nervous laughter. The card was destroyed. He ripped it up in a silent rage. 

The play ended. The cast bowed. The lights came up and we in the audience went to put on our coats.

I reached in my purse and casually handed Matthew his wallet. 

Matthew would like to add: "That was the worst!!!! I was soooo mad! I remember being so pissed that someone would take my wallet and leave the most useless card of them all. It was torture. And it never even crossed my mind that it could have been you.*"

Thank-you, and goodnight.

*Mission accomplished.

Saying Happy Holidays is a nice thing to do.

The season for tis-ing the season is upon is, and a chain status that keeps popping up all over my facebook news-feed sure is in a state about the words we use in December. People are worried, friends, "the man"  - that faceless extremely politically correct and secular faction that controls wreath distribution - wants to take the Christ out of Christmas, and want to force us all (by threat of gunfire, persecution, eggs thrown against houses) to say "Happy Holidays" rather than "Merry Christmas". 

That bastard. 

 How dare society stop us from saying Merry Christmas and thrust Happy Holidays in our faces? Where is our autonomy and freedom of religion?

Well... 

It isn't stopping or thrusting anything of the sort, for one. And everyone's autonomy and freedom of religion is safe and intact, thanks. 

In Canada (and in the US, though you'd never know it to listen to the Republican Primaries) we have a separation of Church and State. What that means is, in very basic terms, public schools are not supposed to be teaching children religious information as fact (just as I don't suspect most Sunday schools have math tests), and government agencies and offices must attempt to be neutral to religion so as to not put the needs of one above the needs of another, making life in our society as fair as possible (this is the theory, I'm not going to examine the practice at such a juncture). 

Rather than ignore the many days of celebration that pop up in December (or there abouts), schools and government offices, which aim to remain neutral, have in recent years started to use the term Holidays more often than Christmas. This isn't to kick Christmas in the balls, it is to be inclusive and welcoming and festive, and if you genuinely have a problem with secular agencies doing so, then I can do nothing but shake my head at you. Canada is a secular nation, it is a little unpatriotic to complain about that. 

Okay fine, perhaps you are willing to concede that government agencies can say Happy Holidays - but what about the world of retail? Stores that are encouraging gift-buying en mass starting immediately after Halloween then have the nerve to leave out the word Christmas in their decorations, promotional materials, and cashier greetings/goodbyes? How dare they! I want to be wished a Merry Freakin' Christmas after I buy my boyfriend a video game!*

It may shock you to learn some of the following: 1) Some retailers are not Christians. 2) Some may celebrate other holidays this time of year. 3) Some may celebrate nothing at all, but still recognize the opportunity for profit. 4) That isn't a bad thing, that is just what Capitalism is. What are you, a communist? 5) If you're a communist, that's cool too. 6) Regardless of religious affiliation/lack-there-of, most retailers want customers of every possible combination of religion, background, culture, age, gender, etc. 7) If they don't, then they are bigots, and we shouldn't buy from bigots. 8) A shit-tonne of holidays are celebrated (roughly) in December, with a shit-tonne of potential customers celebrating them. 9) Ergo, the best way to wish good will and make the largest percentage of your customers feel nice and want to shop with you again is... Happy Holidays! 

 

No one is telling you what you can and cannot celebrate in your own home, place of worship, or on your own lawn. No one is suggesting you have to call the decorated evergreen in your living room a "Holiday Tree". If you want to wish your friends and neighbours and family a Merry Christmas, then please do.

Getting upset over the phrase Happy Holidays is being obtuse. If someone wishes you that, then you should feel nice. Think about it... they want you to have a wonderful time celebrating something (anything! Even if you don't!) during the first really gross month of winter. That's just a lovely thought, embrace it.  

As an aside, I had to fight the urge several times while writing this to write "Merry X-Mas"... I really like word "X-mas"... people complain about that one a lot, too.

*I'm not buying Ben a video game. Sorry babe.

**I want to thank my Facebook friend Ken Spragg for being the first one of my list to be vocal about how absurd the chain status was. Someone defriended him over speaking his mind in a very thoughtful response, which brought up a lot of points that I didn't, mostly about the religious hypocrisy of the issue. 

Revenge.

This is a tale of toddlers and gross things they do.

Cast of Characters:

Me (I'm me.)
Carrie (That's my sister.)
Georgia (That's my niece, she's 2 & 1/2 or so.)
Dad (That's my Dad.)


My sister sent me a picture text of... something.

Carrie: Dad requested that I take a picture*.

Me: What is that?

Carrie: It is a poop. On the coffee table. Where poop goes, silly.

Me: Georgia poop?

Me: Hahahaha, "no, it's not Georgia poop." That would be amazing.

Carrie: Well it's not MY poop.

Me: Ahahahaha, I realized the implications of my question immediately after hitting send.

Carrie: She hurt her ear on the table and I yelled at it, and told it I was very upset with it.

Carrie: And then I went back to reading, and Georgia ran up to me and said "a poop! A poop, a coffee table! A stinky!"

Carrie: So it was revenge.

Me: Justice was served. I'm in tears laughing.

Carrie: Then before I took the picture, she grabbed a piece of papertowel and ran over like she was going to take care of it.

Me: Aw, helpful.

Carrie: She tries.


*My favourite way to make my dad laugh is to mention poop. It's not the only way, of course, but it gets a great reaction.

Post-Halloween Public Service Announcement.

You know who I love?

Joan from Mad Men.

Love her. Wish I had that body, think she's nuanced and layered and capable and just... what a character!

I've seen some pretty good Joan Halloween costumes online over the years. Real fans of hers can pull it off, putting together perfect vintage outfits for curvy figures. They use their natural red hair or natural looking dyes or natural looking wigs. They find little gold pen pendants to wear around their necks. They are meticulous.

Even with all the effort, some people still probably ask them if they are Wilma Flintstone or some kind of  conservative Jessica Rabbit, because people hardly ever get Halloween costumes based on little seen but critically acclaimed AMC shows.

My public service announcement is this: If you have red-red hair (like the colour of a tomato, or a fire truck or a cherry jolly rancher), then you aren't wearing a Joan costume just because you wander around with your usual hair and some clothes. Some clothes do not a Joan costume make.  Nor does that shade of red.

I find Joan (and Christina Hendricks) to be beautiful and admirable, so I find this lazy form of costuming particularly offensive. The principle works for other characters/people too, however. 

I have dark curly hair. Now, let's say I wanted to be April from Parks and Rec for Halloween next year. If I decided, "well, we both have dark hair and are women" does that mean I don't have to do anything else as a costume?! I am allowed to put in no effort to actually costume myself like her?!

Are you just okay with being SOME GUY who is not in a suit (or rather a tuxedo, what are you a farmer?) and just saying "I'm Jack Donaghy. You know... 30 Rock?" Is that a thing we do now as a society?

My friend Jen went out as Baby Spice this year. They are both blond. By the lazy logic I kept seeing this year, I guess she could have just worn a shirt and pants and told people "I'm Baby Spice." That wouldn't have been Baby Spice, that just would have been a blond woman. That would have been Emma Bunting!

If you don't want to wear a costume, then fine.

Halloween didn't want you either!

But don't go out and present such bullshit to the public.

Other people do this, right?

Four Ways In Which I've Hidden From People to Avoid Mild Social Interaction, Lately:

-Darted into bizarre aisles of the grocery store (Dog food! Stationary! Chips!) because I didn't want to have to make this call: do I acknowledge this girl who I totally-know-exactly-who-she-is (because she dated a friend of a friend AND knows my boyfriend) or do I decline to nod because I don't know if she actually knows who I am (we've never spoken!) and that would be weird. 

-Ate a banana in Ben's bedroom because I thought it would be just too strange a sight for his roommate to walk in on me eating fruit alone in their living room at 9:30 in the morning. 

-Wore my sunglasses on the bus on a cloudy day to ensure no-accidental eye-contact with an acquaintance.

-Just this morning, slept in at Ben's after he left for work, and treated leaving the apartment while his roommate was in the shower (thus avoiding conversation of any kind, even though I have conversations with Dave and have no reason to want to avoid one) as a covert operation. Felt very proud of myself for my stealth, even though I left several items of clothing behind, knocked over a large box, and ran into the door.