It's all over!

I have finished my stint of gainful faux-employment.

In honour of my 3 months at an actual workplace, I will introduce you to some actual workers:

Aren't they pretty?

Left to right: Paul (assistant art director), Linda (associate editor), Me, Anne (editor), Flannery (managing editor) and Linda (fellow intern/partner-in-crime)

If you look carefully you can see WHERE magzine. Sniff. Edging its way in to the picture, far right, the Christmas tree.

Now off to Dundas for some festive cheer (and to do a week's worth of laundry)

Happy holidays!

Ah Christmas.

A joyous time of year, when everybody assembles to eat, drink, sing and be merry while the snow falls outside and mince pies blaze upon the hearth.

Sadly I shall not be spending Christmas at home this year.

Aww...

But, family, friends, rest assured that I am in safe hands.

Because Canadians sure do like to celebrate Christmas, in their own subtle way:

There is really no better way to understand the workings of the Canadian mind than through its cultural influences. When Canadian children are growing up, they are only allowed to listen to government-authorised music. As films are rated according to "thematic elements", "mild peril" or simply "language", so too is music. The result is that all Canadian children grow up listening to this man, who is the only one who passed the censors:

Raffi

Yes, Raffi. Author of "Baby Beluga". But wait, what's that he's holding in his hand? Could it be? Yes, it is!

It's a... Bananaphone!

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring

Banana phone

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring

Banana phone

I've got this feeling

so appealing

for us to get together and sing

- SING!

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring

Banana phone

Ding dong ding dong ding dong ding

Donana phone

It grows in bunches

I've got my hunches

Its the best

beats the rest

cellular modular

interactivodular

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring

Banana phone

Ping pong ping pong ping pong ping

Ponana phone

Its no baloney

It aint a phony

My cellularBananular phone

Don't need quarters

don't need dimes

to call a friend of mine

dont need computer or tv

to have a real good time

I'll call for pizza

I'll call my cat

I'll call the White House, have a chat

I'll place a call around the world

Operator get me Beijing jing jing jing

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring

Banana phone

Ying yang ying yang ying yang ying

Yanana phone

It's a real live mama and papa phone

a brother and sister and a dogaphone

a grandpa phone and a grandma phone too - oh yeah

my cellular bananular phone

Banana phone

ring... ring... ring...

Its a phone with appeal

Banana phone

ring... ring... ring...

Now you can have your phone and eat it too

Banana phone

ring... ring... ring...

This song drives me .... bananas

Banana phone

ring... ring... ring...

Bo ba do ba do do doob

Yes, that explains why Canadians are the way they are. Especially the last line.

If you would like to hear the song (but beware, you will have it stuck in your head for the rest of the day, and I accept no liability for damages caused as a result) then you can see;

a badger version at: www.allmedia.com.au/bananana

a battle of wills at: http://ghostalmedia.com/banana

a techno version at: www.transbuddha.com/osaka/osakaphone.html

and a home-video-style interpretation at: www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/bpvid

This seemingly random post of schnauzer puppies is in honour of my wee sister because she just started her own blog!!!! I am so proud!!!

Catch her at: http://box-monkey.blogspot.com

Alarming news today.

Just when you think it's safe to eat fruit again, something comes along and shakes you to your very marrow. Well, it does if you are Mark Parent, environment minister for Nova Scotia, and you are at a reception at the Nova Scotia legislature.

Apparently, he was reaching for a grape, when a spider emerged from the tray of fruit.

"He says he's not normally afraid of spiders, but this one was black and scary", reported the Halifax Chronicle-Herald today "Agriculture minister Brooke Taylor squished the spider in a napkin and sent the creature to his department for analysis." (Lucky there was an agriculture minister on the premises, really)

The spider was a black widow. Just goes to show.

"I'm going to encourage everybody to be very careful when they are handling fruit because you never know what might be in it", said Mr. Parent, who is responsible for food safety in Nova Scotia.

P.S. I'm not going to illustrate this post. I had a look on Google images and scared myself and now I feel like I have spiders on me...

So, it's the end of a long working day for your dog. He's been running around all day, barking, piddling, eating, reading, chewing things, chasing things, and sometimes all those things at once.

Yes, really.

So what does your furry friend need at the end of such an exhausting day?

Yes, you've guessed it...

Beer for dogs!

www.beerfordogs.com

Only in America...

Arrrrrrrrrrrr!

It's a good life being a pirate on Lake Ontario. At the helm of a mighty ship, wind lashing at the sails and the lament of the albatross circling above.

Probably.

It's not so easy to imagine when you are sitting in a nice cushy sailboat with a glass of wine and a bag of Doritos. But it was quite windy. And I did get to steer.

Here is part of a song about Canadian pirates by the Canadian band the Arrogant Worms:

(NB: Saskatchewan = the Prairies)

I used to be a farmer, and I made a living fine,
I had a little stretch of land along the city line
But time went by and though I tried, the money wasn't there
And bankers came and took my land and told me "fair is fair".
I looked for every kind of job, the answer always no
"Hire you now?" they'd always laugh, "we just let twenty go!"
The government, they promised me a measly little sum
But I've got too much pride to end up just another bum.
Then I thought, who gives a damn if all the jobs are gone?
I'm gonna be a PIRATE on the river Saskatchewan!!!
Cause it's a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin' down the plains
Stealin' wheat and barley and all the other grains
It's a ho-hey, hi-hey - farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores!

Autumn's here!

Except, of course, here it is called fall. Presumably because the leaves fall off the trees, or something. With autumn comes the eerie wonder that is Halloween. In Canada, it seems that everybody loves halloween, with its possibilities for conning people out of large amounts of confectionery and standing strange scarecrows outside your house, ie:

I tell you, they don't half give me a fright when walking home of an evening. Especially the ones that don't have any legs and seem to be a ghastly, pitiful human-terracotta hybrid.

Phew. You can relax now, I am back from the wilderness.

No bear sightings to report.

Although we did have a prolonged encounter with an equally terrifying critter of the woods.

Having seen very little native Canadian wildlife so far (a tame skunk at the Blue Jays game, a dead raccoon, black squirrels and Canada geese) I was extremely gratified to discover that we had a new lodger in the cottage woodpile...

(sadly this is not my picture. As soon as I get my pictures developed you shall see them, even though they may fall incongruously in the middle of a blog about Thanksgiving, hockey, or if I'm really lazy, Christmas)

We saw the chipmunk from a distance and decided to try and get it to come closer, using that old and most carefully constructed of stratagems... bait! (Not the live kind - peanuts). Placing small piles of peanuts at intervals ever closer to ourselves, we awaited the chipmunk, hoping it would become gradually accustomed to our presence.

An entire bag of peanuts later, we had to admit that the chipmunk seemed unusually confident around us, to the extent of actually getting inside the peanut bag when our uncontrollable joy at relating to one of God's creatures had dwindled. Apparently, this particular chipmunk is more than used to stupid humans feeding him peanuts for no reason, and gets really lairy when you stop. So much for our cleverness.

Oh well. Next week, bears!

Other highlights of the trip were the 'cookout', where we discovered just how flammable the humble marshmallow can be; our own dramatic recital of 'Oedipus Rex', complete with ever-more believable regional accents (notably "Messengers" #1 & 2) and my own special and unique brand of furniture destruction (nobody will ever know...)

Today I am preparing for that most singular of Canadian experiences: going toThe Cottage! This involves packing a whole load of stuff and going to sit in a house in the woods for a couple of days/couple of weeks/until you get eaten by a bear/until you get eaten by someone out of a Stephen King novel.

JUST KIDDING!

Or am I...?

Generally, when you arrive in Cottage Country, your first port of call will be the local supermarket, to stock up on food, drink etc. for your stay. On your way back to the car, you might want to pick up a couple of Cokes out of the vending machine outside. This is where you must be very, very careful.

DO NOT PICK A VENDING MACHINE THAT LOOKS LIKE THIS!

(And also, if I was a fish, I think I would be more than a little alarmed if the worm that I was about to eat had a top hat and a bow tie, and was grinning like that.)

I AM EMPLOYED!!!!

Well... Kind of. I have an internship at a magazine called Where Toronto, which is a magazine all about... Toronto! Unpaid, but we've all got to start somewhere when we move to Canada, right? The best thing is, I get to find out all about Toronto while I work. It's a plan of pure, non-evil, genius. And I get to work in Toronto amongst all the skyscrapers. They will be my friends.

The Canadian experiences continue.
GO BLUE JAYS!
Yes, this week I have been inaugurated into that most exclusive of clubs, People Who Have Been to a Baseball Game. And much fun it was too. At the vast Skydome (recently renamed the catchy 'Rogers Centre' to the chagrin of many a Torontonian) the mighty Toronto Blue Jays took on the sweet ol' Tampa Bay Devil Rays and won 6-1. Baseball = much like cricket, except the players run in circles, there is a breakdancing break in the middle, and it's exciting. Spare a thought for poor Rays pitcher Edwin Jackson who was hit on the head by a baseball travelling at about a million miles an hour:

But he's ok!

Question: How is a Blue Jay scarier than a Devil Ray?

Fig 1. Blue Jay

Fig 2: Devil Ray

The answer:

Creepy, eh?

I'm living in a Calvin and Hobbes book! Or Peanuts...or Garfield...
Oakville = a rich suburb (kind of) of Toronto, with wide, leafy streets, white picket fences, pioneer-style wooden houses, fire hydrants (a very important feature), kids that play hockey in the street, and I'll swear I saw two chipmunks today. It's all very quiet and well-behaved.
No job yet. I'll keep you posted.

FINE!!!! Here is the blog of the weirdo I am living with in Canada
http://insipid-realities.blogspot.com/
Are you happy now, Fortibular?

So..... Canada, eh?
Home of Moose, Bears, Maple Leafs (both the botanical and the ice-hockey-cal versions), Maple Syrup, Snow, Ice, Canadian dollar$, Tim Hortons, Second Cup, the CN Tower, many Canadians (and some others as well), and now me!

The question: Is it possible for a rookie British journalist with no connections to find a job in Canada?

The pros:
1) Canadians love British accents (apparently). At my orientation I was told to speak as much as possible to make up for any deficiencies in talent, skill, charm etc.
2) It will be harder for prospective employers to notice/check any lies I may tell (if I decide to)

The cons:
1) I know next to nothing about Canada.
2) I don't have a car! Almost every single Canadian reporting job requires a car because of the size of Canada. Darn. All I have are my own two feet (plus GO Transit)

Watch as I begin optimistically and discerningly, and then descend into the hell of applying for every single job on Workopolis.ca as the money runs out.

"Well, I think I'll have a Canadian Maple."

August 27th 2006 = Canadian Maple Day!!!
Or... the day I go to Canada.
For the uninitiated, a Canadian Maple is not a tree, but a doughnut. A custard-filled, Maple syrup-iced doughnut. From Tim Hortons, home of the double double. More on that later.