Election Eve

So, Canadians will be going to the polls tomorrow, and they look poised to toss out Martin's Liberal government. The election has been an interesting one for me. This is the first time I've been living in another country that is going through an election cycle. It is also uncomfortable for me since I could very well be affected by whatever new policies will be coming down the political pipeline, but I have absolutely no say in what will happen. This experience has definitely made me appreciate the plight of immigrants in America and other nations, who pay taxes, earn their livelihoods, raise their families, and in some cases, die in a country in which they have no voice. Some countries, like America and Canada, have very liberal policies about becoming citizens, thereby gaining the right to vote. Other countries, such as Germany, do not allow (or at least did not allow 8 years ago) naturalized citizens the right to vote, regardless of how long you've been there.

It looks as if the Conservatives win, they will have a minority government, which means that they, as a party, garnered the most votes amongst all the parties, but that they failed to earn enough votes to form a coalition in the parliment to break 50%. This is basically the equivalent of different parties controlling the Executive and Legislative branches in the US government. Of course, Stephen Harper's platform worries me as he is espousing much of what Bush believes. He wants to get rid of same-sex marriage, reduce health and child care benefits, he wants to reduce taxes and he wants to send troops to Iraq. I think of all of his policies, this last one will be the most unpopular. Canadians really don't like it when one of their own is killed in Afghanistan, but Iraq is much more dangerous. Of course, the Canadian troops may not see a lot of action in Iraq, instead being kept safe for political reasons (so I have to ask how useful such a gesture really is).

Some Canadians believe that polls are not a good indicator of actual voting practices. They believe that people will tell the pollsters one thing, and actually do something else at the polls. Apparently this happens with some regularity up here, but even so the Conservatives are enjoying a good lead over the Liberals. The NDP is what confuses the issue, as the NDP has around 20% of the vote. Liberals have between 25-30%, and the Conservatives have 35%-40%. The rest of the votes go to Bloc Quebecquois and Green. The Liberals, NDP, and Greens tend to form coalitions, and between them they have around 55%. BQ goes back and forth, but they tend to side with the Conservatives on certain issues. However, they support Liberal policy in others. Their main platform is one of separation that they play up or down depending on the political environment.

Alberta, one of the plains provinces, is the most Conservative province. British Columbia is like California flipped upside down. The Vancouver area is heavily NDP, the north is Conservative. The Atlantic provinces lean Conservative, Ontario is Liberal, Quebec is either BQ or Liberal, though Montreal has a lot of Greens.

Anyway, I'll write tomorrow about the election results.

Keep on keepin' on.

Animal Friends

I have been moved recently by stories of inter-species love. No, not that movie on Cinemax about the nice housewife and the very friendly Great Dane.

First, the story of Gohan and Aochan. Gohan (which means "tasty rice dish") is a pygmy hamster who is best friends with Aochan, a Japanese rat snake. Zookeepers, unable to convince Aochan to eat frozen mice, put Gohan in the cage as a treat. Aochan didn't want to eat Gohan either, and now they are fast friends. Aochan has since decided to eat the frozen mice. "I've never seen anything like it. Gohan sometimes even climbs onto Aochan to take a nap on his back," Yamamoto, the zookeeper, said.


Second is the story of Owen and Mzee, orphaned hippo and ancient tortoise. Owen befriended Mzee after being stranded, then rescued, in the ocean, and has seemed to have adopted Mzee as his mommy. At first, the tortoise would have none of it, but now they are like two peas.

I don't know why, but these stories really touch me. It makes me wonder why we humans can't get along better, if hippos and tortoises... or even better, rat snakes and hamsters can get along.

On the other hand, Freelove turned into "Street Freelove" the other day, getting in Roo's face and growling at him, seemingly unprovoked. She proceeded to smack him on the face, which inspired him to jump up and chase her. I don't know what set her off, but needless to say, Roo settled her down. It was all rather random, but they are friends again. Freelove never growls, though her growls are really not scary at all... they are rather cute... and so it is probably best that she does not growl as the growl doesn't really work.

Keep on keepin' on.

Skates, Shoelaces, and Other Things

So, Anna and I went to IKEA and then we went to Canadian Tire and at the Canadian Tire, I acquired a pair of hockey skates. Fortunately for me, I fit into Junior sizes, which means that the same pair of skates is about $40 cheaper than the adult version.

Wanting to do right by my new skates, I researched lacing techniques and found this website.

Then Anna, Justin and I went ice skating. She reports about it (with pictures) on her blog. I had a great time. I'm obsessing about perfecting my hockey stop. Well, perfecting is a strong word when your level of skill amounts to doing it incorrectly and falling over. Still, I am dead-set on learning how to do this very cool manoeuver. For some reason it is important to me. More important than reading Panofsky.

Last night, I made a yummy pizza with a whole wheat crust. Making pizzas is so much fun, and I can make a lot of them for not very much money, and they taste like something you'd get in a restaurant. So I've been on a pizza-making kick lately.

I found this on line: Longest ear hair, according to the Guinness Book of World Records: 5.2 inches. Yeah, ew is right.

So, I don't have any really amusing anectodes that are coming to mind right now, but I have fallen behind on my blogging, so here is another offering.

Keep on keepin' on.

At the border

I thought I would share the story of my border crossing back into Canada from my trip back to the States over the holiday.

Going over the border has become a vexing experience for me. I hate going back to the US because the US border officials always look at you like you are going to cause the collapse of Western society simply by entering the country. I start worrying about if I got on some "Neer-do-well" list because of the Dominican Republic pen pal I had in the second grade. Coming back into Canada is also worrisome because I'm not a Canadian citizen and they could, if they wanted to, deny me entry, which would really mess everything up.

So when I hit the border, I am usually pretty nervous, either because I am being looked at like the greatest assassin the world has known, or because I am trying to get into foreign lands. And then there is the "declaring" of stuff. I don't know what to declare, to be honest. Do I tell them about the granola bars? Do I tell them about the cookies I baked for the trip? What about the beef jerky? Does it have Mad Cow? Is it MAD JERKY?!?! *deep breath* See, I don't deal with border crossings well.

The US crossing wasn't so bad, but when I came back to Canada, ah, that was different.

I drove down with Justin, but he stayed in the States longer to be with his family, and I had to get back because I had a paper due by the first. He was going to fly up with his sister in a few days, so I drove back on my own, with the Wegies (that is another story). So I left the country with one person and two cats, and I am returning with just the two cats. This is important to remember. Sadly, I did not remember that. Well, I guess "to remember" isn't the right verb, but... I don't want to spoil the story.

So... it doesn't help matters that by the time I got to the border I had been driving a good 14 hours, so I was a little goofy just from being on the road too long (see former post about the Dumb Bunnies). I stopped at the little booth and handed the guy my passport. He looked at it and started in with the standard questions... Where do you live? What do you do? etc. So then he asked "How long were you in the US?"

At this point, I have to make a quick aside. Since I am a -resident- of Canada, I get the Canadian resident questions, not the visitor questions. A visitor question is "How long will you remain in Canada?" Only your home country asks you "How long were you away?" However, now the US asks me how long I'll be in the US and Canada inquires as to my whereabouts. It is like getting new parents...

Anyway, back to the story. Border Guy asks me "How long were you in the US?" and I say, exactly, "Oh, I think we left on the 21st." Border Guy (we know him pretty well now, let's call him BG) ... so BG pauses for a moment and asks, and I have to stress this here, asks this with complete calm, "So... do you have someone in the trunk?" Refer to the above paragraph where I discuss how nervous border crossings make me. Imagine my surprise when he asked this little question of me. Did my blood pressure go up? Sure. Did my face turn white? Probably. Did all those little men who pull the levers in my skull all start running around in a huge panic, bumping into each other, screaming, and jumping out of my ears to save themselves? You bet.

I was going over, again and again in my head, why he would EVER ask me that question. Perhaps there WAS someone in the trunk! Perhaps I had been dripping blood all the way back from Kansas! Why is he asking me this? Why?! Why?! Why?!

The look on BG's face sorta changed from complete calm to slight concern. I said as calmly as possible, an acting job for which I am certain to be overlooked at the Oscars, "Um, no... no one in the trunk..." I was looking around the car. BG started looking around in the car too. So then BG asks, again, quite calmly, "So where are you hiding them?" A few more little men jumped out of my ears. What was he talking about?!? "Hiding?" I said.

BG had another officer in his cubiculum with him. The other officer (hey, we know him pretty well now too, we'll call him AO) , er AO, was sorta smirking. I remember that now... didn't then. Of course, I was down a few little men, so I wasn't thinking very clearly. "I'm not hiding anyone," I said, probably looking like a mink in a fur trap. Finally, I did myself a very big favor and asked, "Why...?"

"Oh," BG said, "you said, 'we', so I was just wondering where the other people were."

After taking an non-scientific poll on the matter, I realize now that BG was joking. Those Canadians, God love them, just love to be funny. It is as if Canada is a great garden of comedians and the US plucks the juiciest and ripest for themselves, leaving some low-hanging fruit like our friend BG to give me fits at the border.

I tried to laugh a little bit. "I drove down with my boyfriend, but he's flying up later," I said, at this point grinning like I probably did have someone in the trunk, and that this was a silly cover story my Boss, Don Guido, told me to say. Seems plausible. At this point, BG seems to actually be thinking that I must be up to something, because I didn't seem to have gotten his joke. Perhaps I am smuggling something!! Canada: saving the world through humor! BG looks around in my car a little more, just to make certain the empty passenger seat didn't suddenly transmogrify into a kilo of cocaine, but then he decides I was tortured enough and he gives me my passport back. AO is still grinning like a fool behind him. AO isn't a comedian himself, though he seems to like the sketch comedy routine going on in front of him.

So I continue on, stopping off quickly to stretch my legs and get my blood pressure down. And I nearly looked in the trunk, just to make sure...

Keep on keepin' on.

Craziness!!

So , I'm downstairs unloading the recycling in the trash room and I take a gander around as the room is unusually full of trash. I don't know if it is some genetic predeliction toward being a baglady, but I just love going through stuff other people don't want. You find real gems. I love finding useful things because I feel as though the universe as provided for me all on its own. To date, I have found in the trash room:

A really expensive piece of carry-on luggage with a broken zipper. Fifteen minutes with a needle, thread, and some wire clippers and I fixed the zipper, providing me with a really expensive piece of luggage that works just fine.

A small endtable covered with the stickiest, nastiest tape I have ever seen. However, Windex took that stuff right off and now I have a perfectly good endtable for the bedroom (we needed another one anyway).

A lampshade. It is dark purple, but perfectly fine. One of ours was crushed in the move, so I replaced it with the good lampshade. Hey, those things are expensive, even at IKEA.

And today, I found an old Nintendo NES game cartridge for a game simply called "Ice Hockey" (I can't wait to play it), and I found exactly $4.62 in change (mostly pennies and nickels) someone had thrown away. THROWN... AWAY... They threw MONEY... AWAY. Can I express this any better. Money. Thrown away MONEY. I mean, I can accept someone losing money... we've all done that, but to simply throw it away? I mean, this person threw away a meal at McDonald's They threw away two bus rides. They threw away half a pack of cigarettes. Crazy man. Anyway, it is my $.62 now. I also found in the change a penny from Bermuda and a penny from 1946 with George VI on it. Cool.

Keep on keepin' on.

Church of Reality

Hi all. My friend sent this to me, and while I am normally not at all susceptible to evangelism, I have to say that the First One makes some good points about switching to the Church of Realism.

What I have realized about the Church of Realism is that they need someone to edit their site. I can't stand misspellings. If you want someone to take you seriously, you have to spell correctly and use good grammar. However, since I respect Reality, I am also not a person who will let the conveyance of a message get in the way of the message itself. That is like not reading a great book because you don't like the color of the paper.

So while this doesn't have anything to do with Canada perse, though I think the Canadians, overall, do a better job of living in Reality than Americans do, I offer it to the world.

Get Real.

Keep on keepin' on.

Shameless Promotion

This post is only to shamelessly promote my cousin's website Red Glare (there is also a link on the left). For those antiauthoritarian-minded people out there, check it out.

On Vacation

So, I've been on a real vacation for the past few days, playing lots of Paper Mario on the GameCube, reading more Dante, and baking. Tonight, I watched the Junior World Championship Gold Metal game in hockey - Canada vs. Russia. Canada won, 5-0. It was a very good game, the players were appropriately vicious toward one another.

Today, I read about the funniest quote I can imagine, which is this:

"It's as if we were to find pictures of Jesus on the cross from the time when he was really alive."

-- Mary Miller, Mayan art expert, Yale University

Now, I don't work at Yale, and I don't consider myself an "expert" on much, but since Jesus supposedly died on the cross, then why would there ever be pictures of him on the cross from "the time when he was really alive"? I don't know either. Well, Mary doesn't bill herself as an Early Christian expert, and that is probably a good thing.

Keep on keepin' on...