The hardest holiday

It's never been a secret that I don't particularly care about xmas. And this year, it was harder to get through than any other I've ever experienced, and that includes the disaster of 2002.

To begin with, Rod went home for xmas. His mother couldn't bear not having him around, and I was both neither willing to go back to Edmonton so soon, nor could afford to go back, so...xmas without the most important person in your life is a less-then-stellar prospect. Rod was leaving very early Friday morning, and the night before we were meant to do our gift exchanging. It was also the night of his staff party, but I was too sick to attend, so I had to wait for him to come home.

To understand another factor in my black xmas, I have to take you back to last year. Rod forgot to stuff my stocking. I stuffed his full, and he forgot about it totally, so I felt a little let down. He tried to make up for it by shoving $100 into my stocking for my Boxing Day shopping. Well, this year, there was a bigger oopsie-daisy performed by Rod. This year, he came home from the staff party, took my stocking, and put all of my presents (regular and stocking) in...unwrapped. I was choked about that. It just screamed 'after thought' and therefore insensitive. I can deal with this, cause I'm the first person in line to tell everyone that life ain't a bowl of cherries. But the straw that broke the Ukranian's back** was yet to come.

Rod's parents sent us money to buy their presents to each of us with. Admittedly, Rod didn't get the most awesome presents from his parents, as I chose to buy him things he needed rather than things he wanted to play with, but I made sure they were nice presents. And on my birfday, when I said point blank that I thought his parents' gift to me should be the Anne of Green Gables DVD to replace my aging tapes, I thought it was going to be taken care of. I continued to remind him of this twice more before the big day. So when I pulled $40 out of the stocking and he said it was his parents' present to me for Boxing Day shopping, I lost it. It was rubbing a box of salt into a gunshot wound.

I'll admit it. I lost it.

I was so upset with him, I let him have it. The worst part is it wasn't one of my famous screaming fits. No, I was so upset, I could barely talk through the sobbing. I was going to be without him for xmas, I was sick, I was PMS'ing, I was depressed, and I was feeling so distraught over the after thought thing, that I said all kinds of things that weren't very nice. Go ahead, feel sorry for the guy. It was not pretty.

Fast forward a couple of days, my parents came over on xmas eve, and stayed until Boxing Day. I love them, no one can question that, but I've never needed any reminder of reasons why I don't live with them. I'm the queen bee of my little nest, and when others come into my house and disrupt my routine, I get irritable. It's clear proof that I wouldn't have made it as a boomerang kid. I appreciate them being here for xmas though.

And finally, the Boxing Day sales were a little disappointing. Mexx came through for me, as always, I can count on that gem to keep me in stylish and versatile clothes. But I walked into stores at Metrotown and the best deal they had to offer was 10% off new stock if purchased before 2 pm. Someone forgot to tell those geniuses that it's not a deal when the sale discount is less than the combined sales taxes. Seriously. I went to two different Mexx stores to spend all of my Boxing Day money. I tried! I really did! I know I should've gone down to Seattle :-s

Ready...Aim........Fire!

Wow, it boggles the mind how many times I've thought of that phrase over the past few days, in many different contexts.

Fire...

...George W. Bush. Duh. Okay, today, Robert Gates, his nominee for the office of Secretary of Defense said under oath (paraphrased) that the American-led coalition was losing the war in Iraq. I could've told them that before they went in.

...Stephen Harper. Again, duh. You don't get to claim massive surpluses in the budget, then institute a whole shiteload of social spending cuts that are based on unpopular conservative ideology. Shame on you Harpertron 2000! Bad Harpertron! Go to your Pod.

...the West Vancouver Police department. All of them. And the Mayor too. Guys...you can't run a fucking POLICE department like a frat house. Clear out Spanky and Alfalfa, and take Buckwheat, Froggy, Stymie and all the other Little Rascals with you. You've had your chance to serve and protect the city whose eyes have been blackened by your drunk-driving, fraud-loving, National Lampoon Policing antics, make way for people who can prove they have considerably better personal and professional judgement. You want to play a game? Play follow the leader...follow Scott Thompson right out the door.

...Paris Hilton...can she be fired? Does she do anything? Can we fire her from the human race? How about from a cannon? Can we make it a layoff situation (putting aside all puns about One night in Paris) and lay off all the Hollywood starlets who are a waste of time, money and the talents of many an overworked plastic surgeon? I'm thinking Paris can join her new BFF Britney, and The Simpson girls, and Lindsay, and any girl dumb enough to sleep with loud-mouth Wilmer Valderrama in the Pink Slip club, and I don't mean of the lingerie variety.

...Anyone who had anything to do with creating and bring to production the game World of Warcraft. Just because you guys had nothing (or no one) better to do, doesn't mean I should suffer for it. Rodney, my love! Turn away from the Dork side!

Honourable Mentions go to:

*Tom Cruise - Bad Alien Soul! Bad! Go to your pod.
*Perez Hilton - We're all stocked up on Bitchy Queens in this house, take a hike.
*Plato - A-ha! I'll bet you thought I forgot about your dead greek ass after two and a half years! You can still bite me.
*People who are cruel to animals - oh you'd better believe I'd do to you what you do to them if I wasn't such a fine, upstanding citizen.
*The Mean Chicken - you know who you are and what you did.

The day after the race

I won't bore you with talk of the weather or the state of the roads, though there is indeed a funny and lengthy tale to tell involving the airport, my dad on public transit late at night, and the continuation of the stupid mess that is my SFU experience. Suffice it to say that I got into the Social Policy issues program, but can't get into any classes, my father did not get to fly out to Edmonton last weekend, and there are some DAMN super vistas when it snows in the Lower Mainland.

But I will bore you with an analysis of the results of the Liberal leadership vote. You see, being a history buffette, I know all about the 1968 Liberal Leadership Convention, the last great Convention. I know how the 'flash in the pan' Pierre Elliott Trudeau was polling at 4th place going into the convention among a field of candidates that ironically included Paul Martin, Sr., in a race that little resembled Paul Martin Jr.'s coronation mere months ago. I know that Trudeau won on the fourth ballot. And I know that the average Canadian greatly distrusts intellectual political leaders, preferring to go with the street smart candidate or the smooth operator.

So knowing all of this, I had this hunch back in July that Stephane Dion was going to come out on top. I knew Bob Rae wasn't viable because he can't deliver Ontario, which you have to do to win an election in Canada. I knew Michael Ignatieff was too polarizing, and I was actually surprised how his support basically flatlined as long as it did. I knew the rest of the candidates weren't viable because they either lacked name recognition or were, to put it politely, questionable figures. I'm well aware of Dion's trouble with Federalism in Quebec, but I think when it came down to crunch time, he was more palatable to newly disappointed Bob Rae supporters, and with no love lost between Rae and Iggy, it was a done deal regardless of Dion's questionable Quebec prospects.

I'll admit, I was not at all dazzled by the field of candidates this time out. None of the heavy hitters in the party stepped up to the plate...no Frank McKenna, who was to be the Liberal Party's second coming...no Allan Rock with his shrewdly cunning political sense...not a peep from the super-ambitious Belinda Stronach...not even an attempt to coax Captain Canada aka. Brian Tobin back into the fray. It was a race that lacked inspiration. There were no radicals, no steady hands to pick up the reins, no visionaries, there was no charisma. But obviously Harpertron 2000 proves that you can be a visionless lacklustre attempt of a human being and still lead Canada (seriously Conservative Canada...you can do better for a leader).

I wish Dion all success in his new endeavors, and I'll pony up and support him because I do believe he's an intelligent, capable and driven man, and because I can't stomach the idea of more years of Harpertron 2000, but let's just say I'll be watching Dion with a pragmatic eye and a hopeful heart.