I’m hatching a rant. And it will be about cell phone rates in the province of BC Canada.

Once upon a time, not very much money would pay for a home phone that you could use anytime, any day. There was no such thing as call waiting, call display or whatever other “feature” can be added to phones these days. Nope, there was local calling and long distance calling. You paid a fixed fee for local, and per minute for long distance.

These days, the home phone, aka “land line”, is still reasonaby priced. But, and here’s where my rant gets going, cell phones are ubiquitous, they are also OUTRAGEOUSLY priced: The cost of the plans to use these phones is unreasonably expensive.

Is it right that a person should pay between $600 – $1200/year for a phone that may give you between 450 – 700 minutes/ month? That’s for a “large” package. 450 minutes over a month translates to approximately 15 minutes a day! And, if you go over, the sky’s the limit in how much you can pay. It’s highway robbery!

I hate the greediness of these corporations, and I’m incensed that the Fed. Gov’t. won’t regulate them.

As these stupid cell phones are gradually replacing the “land line”, then it stands to reason that the price of having one should be comparable to a land line. Instead, the carriers happily charge through the nose and profit considerably, while we dummies on the ground shell more money for a luxury we can’t afford.

It’s time to revolt and correct the discrepancies! If we’re going to use the cell in the same manner as the lowly “land line”, then we should pay the same price as it.

Times are a’ changin’ and we communicate differently than we did 10-20 years ago. But we shouldn’t be penalized for it. We’re being pushed into the technology, and believe me, I resisted a long time before I got one of those damned phones. Now that I have one, I can’t seem to get a decent plan where I can talk on the phone and not get soaked for it.

What to do… what to do.

Wanting to drown cell phone rates in the puddle…

Ingrid

I’m teaching at a university this year. Of the two essays they the students have been assigned, they have completed the first, and I am currently marking them – well, between wasting time on FB and posting to this blog for the first time in over a month!

Okay, so we know that writing for university is not like writing a blog, right? Right. Unlike the relatively forgiving medium of a blog, which allows for an elastic acceptance of writing style, when writing an essay, it’s important to use a more formal language, and to ensure your impressions can be clearly understood by the reader. This requires good sentence structure and grammar, and proof-reading. These are just a few things that are essential to writing a good essay.

If you’re a student and you find yourself wondering how to write an essay, then I would like to direct you to the following two links: The Online writing lab at Purdue University, and its grammar blog .

Please, do your instructor a favour by submitting a fabulous essay that he or she can enjoy, and read with ease. I’m waiting for that one essay where I don’t have to work so damned hard to pierce through the white noise of bad grammar to get to the content.

Maybe your essay will be The One?

Ingrid
Mired in a puddle of muddled phrases.

It’s been a very long time since I posted and there’s a lot that has transpired. This note is just to keep whoever reads this blog informed that I’ll be posting from time to time again, and I haven’t ridden into the sunset.

Cheers!

Ingrid

After the white noise and repetitive vocal swaggering of Sarah Palin, I have found the refreshingly intelligent, erudite, eloquent, poised, polite, thoughtful and considered words of Michelle Obama. You might think I’m a little over the top with my swooning admiration of her; maybe so, but when you consider the Palin-schlock that has been dominating the media, it’s like water for the thirsty, or fresh air in a suffocating mine. The canary is singing! Hallelujah!

Okay, my notice and opinion of Michelle may be a little late, after the US Presidential race’s fact, but hey, better late than never. What a great woman Michelle Obama is. Not only is she a wonderful dresser, unlike Canada’s own fashionista, Julie Couillard (please check out my entries about her), but Michelle Obama comes across as intelligent and balanced. She’s the kind of person I’d love to invite to a dinner party and have a lively and relaxed conversation with.

My first introduction to Michelle Obama was a four part Youtube video of an interview she had with Larry King. I’ll post that link here: You’ll have to navigate through the other three parts on Youtube. I was so impressed with her. Contrast her with Palin, and you’ve got to wonder why Palin had 49% approval ratings at the time. What the hell were the Americans thinking? As I said before, Michelle Obama is so gracious, intelligent, reserved, poised, articulate, beautiful… Even if she’s faking it, she’s doing a damned fine job! From my vantage point, she and Barack have created an excellent family model.

And then I found this clip. Again… wow!

I could go on and on, there’s a lot on Youtube to watch. Unfortunately it’s hard to know what the sources are or when they were filmed. Never the less, this little exposure into the next First Lady’s character gives me sense of comfort over here on the north side of the 49th parallel. I don’t know what the next US administration can change in the world, if much. I doubt it will stop the crisis in Gaza, or halt the many tensions throughout the planet. But, I’m glad to see that history has finally broken through the race ceiling in the US, and black person can finally be all he or she can aspire to.

Next ceiling to break through: Women’s roles, beyond a supporting one.

Now, what shall we serve up with our Perogi’d government? A little sour cream and chives, perhaps?

Ingrid

Happy 2009, one and all! It will be interesting to see what 2009 has in store for us.

I found a lovely quote online: “life is a comedy for those who think, and a tragedy for those who feel”, which is the guiding philosophy of Roger Sandall, whose website can be found here Roger Sandall

More later…

Ingrid

For your interest, I found a great photo of the entire ensemble Julie Couillard wore to Maxime Bernier’s swearing in ceremony. Please note the shoes! They are SO wrong for the outfit. Seriously, is she really going to give fashion commentary on TV? Wow. Will wonders ever cease?

I suppose the reason we haven’t seen the whole package from tip to toe is because of the bodacious bow at her bosom. It’s distracting, so media outlets have cropped the pictures to only include her upper torso and head. It takes the idea of “bust” to a new level.

One thing is for sure, you have to admire her excellent physique and beauty. She obviously looks after herself, she’s well groomed and fit. No wonder she’s attracted so much attention. She’s a rare bird on parliament hill, and nobody likes a trophy girlfriend and the fallout of having one as much as all us house-bound Canadians holed up in our homes and pottering around with cabin fever in the middle of winter. You go girl!

What will she auction off next? The bugs that were planted in her bed?

Ingrid

Cabin Fevered Puddle Potterer

Oh thank goodness! I can’t believe how relieved I am to know that Julie Couillard now plans to auction her famous dress, the one she wore to Bernier’s swearing in ceremony. You might remember it, the dress, probably not the ceremony, her breasts were amazingly firm and plump, and not fake looking in the least.

But, the money she’ll raise from the sale of the dress will go to an epilepsy charity, a disease she apparently suffered from as a child. I can’t believe this woman and all that she’s suffered! Poor, poor girl. First we heard of the horrible life she had as the unwitting girlfriend of biker criminals; then later, the horrible experiences at the hands of that political cad, Maxime Bernier, and now, oh woe is she, a victim of childhood epilepsy. Give me strength!

Adding to the irony, she will be a co-hosting a fashion show on a Quebec TV station in the spring. Um, excuse me, I direct you to the blazer over exhibit A, the dress.

The poorly fitted blazer she wore over the dress didn’t match the outfit and it looked like a last minute cover up, like she had planned to do something else that day, like go to the beach, but at the last minute Maxime called her up and asked her to come to his inauguration. Would you take fashion advice from a woman wearing that?

I’d rather turn to Posh, thanks very much, so that’s saying something.

Well, at least this story still makes for fun reading and searching on the Internet, and a reason to post to our blog when all else eludes me.

Happy Holidays!

Ingrid

It’s time for a quick update before I head to work.

I’ve been thinking about our Canadian prorogued parliament (Professional Rogues), and I can’t help but think of union workers who go on strike. As far as I understand, a union leader goes to the membership and suggests to go on strike when all other options have failed. After some discussion, a vote is cast, and the union files a notice that they will be striking. When this happens, the workers no longer get their wage from the employer, and the union pays the workers strike pay.

Now, not that parliament, or government, is a union (they only conduct business for the unity of Canada, that’s all…), but many of the same principals apply. For instance, they follow Robert’s Rule of Order. Like a union, not one person can make a final decision, but make decisions based on the will of the majority. So, when a question is asked, discussed and concluded, it’s done through consultation, debate and discussion with the group as a whole.

When unions and employers meet to figure out their contracts, sometimes a third party is brought in, in the form of an arbitrator. This person is supposed to be unbiased, who concludes (hopefully reasonably) what the best course of action should be taken. In the case of our Canadian parliament, the parties went to the arbitrator (the Governor General), presented their sides, and the GG weighed the arguments on both sides, consulted with experts and looked a precedents, and made her decision to prorogue, or suspend, parliament.

That’s all fine and well, except that in a way, a prorogued parliament is like a union that has gone on strike. Sure, people are still working, but are they working to the same level as before? Do they put in the same number of hours? Are they being effectual? Are ALL of them working as much as they had been? Should they be paid their full wages, or a minimum daily wage, like strike pay?

Now, being a cynic and all, I’m inclined to think that out of the 308 seats that make up the House, not all are working 100% to 110% capacity. Look, it’s the Christmas season, and what better time to get a little break and go back to your constituency than just before Christmas. You can cry and bemoan the “undemocratic” nature of the events that led up to you sitting by the Christmas tree, feet up on the ottoman, rum and eggnog in hand, and taking a little break before you go back into Mr. Milliken’s grade 7 class to practice hurling spitballs and try out your newly minted bullying tactics and insults. What’s even better, the work you did in fact do over this break at 30% capacity, still paid you 100% of your wages. And that nerdy kid in the glasses that bugged you so much? He’s been moved to the back of the class so you don’t have to even look at him any more. After Christmas, Mr. Milliken’s class will have all the bull-dog bullies going after each other, scrapping outside after school by the bike racks. You’re almost in grade 8, and this is practice for the gladiatorial ring of high school.

We should all consider politics as a viable career…. and then go on strike at Christmas.

Ingrid
Pro Puddle Rogue

Last weekend we found ourselves once again surrounded by a happy bunch of nuts, and burned an effigy of Guy Fawkes, the 17th Century British terrorist who was eventually, hung, drawn, quartered and burned at the stake for trying to blow up parliament. Yeeeuck! Hellova way ta go! Our friends Andy and Cathy have been “celebrating” Guy Fawkes night for a few years, and last year was our first exposure to it. It was so fun, we eagerly anticipated this year’s festivities all year long. I made the head again this year, and we upped the ante a little with a stick body Neil made out of wood. It even had feet!

Anyway, 500 years after Guy’s dastardly attempt to smuggle loads of gun powder into the British House of Commons, under his coat while carrying a torch or something, we’re standing in our friend’s back yard in deepest, darkest Maple Ridge, watching Andy toss gas at the bonfire, while the Guy sits perched on a little makeshift seat, wearing a huge cowboy hat that looks more like a sombrero, going up in flame. The Guy has been stuffed with newspaper and hay, and two fireworks have been shoved into his empty head. When they finally go off, one makes a really lame “pop” while the other shoots out of the Guy’s head and lands in the neighbour’s yard where, after a pause, explodes with a huge “BANG!” Then the drunken Brits, Andy and a buddy, drag out some HUGE fireworks and “bear sticks”, which are like firecrackers that sound like bombs exploding, and set those off from a bucket filled with sand.

It was all incredibly bizarre and very testosterone laden, but fun, too, in that red-neck, backwoods kind of way! The whole scene was surreal, with much laughter and antics all ’round. Meanwhile, everything burned but the Guy’s shoes, which took forever. Nike sure knows how to make them there shoes. One leg fell off with a shoe still attached and continued burning on the grass until someone pushed it back into the fire.

Brits have this reputation of being all stuffy and stiff upper lip and ‘what’, but seriously, they make the Vikings look like SISSIES by comparison. Burning huge bonfires is one thing, but burning effigies in bonfires is wholly another! It’s borderline psychopathic… and fun.

So, for your viewing pleasure, here are some photos I took of that night. And yes, there was a small child at the party. What can I say? Nuts are made, not born!

Ingrid
Fire Puddler

The Guy’s comical head, complete with wonky British teeth.

The “Stuff and Dance”, standard moves…

The “Stuff and Sew”, the only way Guy will keep his clothes on, the cad!

Is it a cowboy hat? A Puritan hat? A sombrero? Whatever it is, it’s too small!

Guy Fawkes, convicted and condemned for all eternity

Flame on!

Ever defiant, even after 500 years.

An eery picture of the Guy burning

“I’ll be back!”

Engulfed in flames

Roaring bonfire

Shoe hanging on to… life?… and limb

Moon, clouds and sparks

Writing with sparklers

Child, sparkler and dwindling fire

Fireworks

The end of the Guy… until next year…

Neil tells me our blog is getting pretty serious, so I thought I’d take a page from Sarah Palin’s tactics and post something with a bit of “levity”… at least Sarah Palin thinks so…

After pardoning a turkey at American Thanksgiving, Sarah Palin conducted an interview in front of a turkey slaughter house.

**Warning: This is graphic, and might offend some viewers**