Work Those Abs

When I saw this excerpt from the Ellen show, I really got an ab workout:



If the video is removed from YouTube, you can see it on the Ellen site, here.

Who comes up with these gimmicks anyway? More importantly, who buys them?

Decay in MA

The Daily Show's Ed Helms exposes the downward spiral of society, ever since the legalization of gay marriage in Massachusetts. Shocking!

Miami is Nice, so I'll say it Thrice

Whenever I here the word Miami, I always think about that Golden Girls episode when Rose (Betty White) is writing lyrics to a song about the city. Although there were plenty of Golden Girls references on our most recent trip, fortunately there were no Golden Girls moments.

Mr. T and I set out for a five day adventure that helped us recover from an otherwise stressful holiday season. It was also the perfect opportunity (and first that I have had) to use my new macro lens!

These shots were taken at Vizcaya: a surprising and stunning "retreat" for an urban industrialist, built at the beginning of the 1900's. The gardens were my favourite part.

Of course, our entire visit wasn't spent absorbing horticultural and architectural marvels. In fact, the larger part of it was spent spent lounging on the beach or on the roof top terrace with the other South Bitches, and a margarita, of course.



We both arrived back in Montreal feeling relaxed and Vitamin D'ed: ready to face a busy six weeks of packing for the big move.

Change in Change?

Is it just me, or has everyone noticed a lot more American change in their pockets these days? I have received three quarters, two dimes, and one nickel of Amercian change from various Montreal vendors this week.

Now, I know that when you look for something, you notice it more. But for those of you that know me I'm a bit of a coin and note fanatic: generally, I look at the change when I get it back (for commemorative or rare coins, not to see if I'm being short changed). So, maybe this isn't a coincidence. I guess people are just starting to get rid of those American coins, realizing they are worth less than their Canadian counterparts.

Food for thought.

Support Beams

Although nobody has been clamouring for a new post, I thought I would give this blog thing a go, again.

Today, I spent some time at my mother's place. We were clearing all of the furniture out my baba's room: she is now permanently in an old folks home. As I was disassembling the frame of the bed, I had a moment of realization. The metal beams and plywood that I was taking apart had been supporting my grandmother for as long as I can remember. Not only physically, but also mentally: my baba has a habit of lying in bed when she was feeling depressed, and has throughout her life. A coping mechanism, if you will.

My mother has a tremendous amount of pent up guilt about leaving my baba in the hands of the people in the retirement home. After spending seven years providing home care for my grandmother (living with her in the house where she grew up) my mother wasn’t able to care for my grandmother anymore, and had neglected to care for herself. My mother had been supporting my baba for a long, long time. I, on the other hand, was there to support my mother: physically, by getting these things out of the house; and mentally, by reminding her that she has been as supportive as anybody could possibly be, and that it was time to put herself at the forefront of her life.

Recently, in various media, I have heard a couple of variations of the saying that, “the only person that you can depend on is yourself.” I think that's a crock of shit. Yes, ultimately we are responsible for our own actions and ourselves. However, without being able to be weak, admit defeat, and ultimately depend on a loved one for support to get us through a rough time, we are not human.

We all need support, and today, I was there to support my mom, just like so many people support me.

On a lighter note, here’s an old picture that my mother dug up. It’s a Polaroid taken circa 1979 near my grandparents' cottage north of Montreal. We were on our way blueberry picking. I like this shot because I think that we look like a real Eastern European family.

Clockwise from the far left: my great-aunt Katerina, my mother, my baba, my dido, my sister, and myself.