My absolute favourite sport at the summer Olympics is women's gymnastics. Unfortunately, I missed a lot of it this time, due to vacationing and whatnot. The only coverage of it that I could find for the final few events was on NBC. I was watching the uneven bar event final, when I realized how much I HATE American broadcasters. Nastia (what kind of hellish name is that???) from the US was up second and ended up tying for points with the Chinese gymnast, but was ranked second because of some tie breaking rule. The American play-by-play people spent the next 6 gymnasts picking apart everyone's routines, nit-picking every wrong move, and commenting before every gymnast performed that "there's no way SHE can win". Instead of focusing on the grace and beauty of the routines and on the positives, they went straight for the "nasty". The entire thing turned into a poor us, we only won Silver. Nastia was actually CRYING about winning the silver (or NOT winning the gold). Oh, poor you Nastia. I know the next time I win a silver medal at the Olympics, I'm sure I will be incredibly disappointed.
But it didn't stop there. Bela Karoli was interviewed later and he actually accused the judges of being incompetent because there weren't any from a country that has won an Olympic gymnastics medal (apparently only American judges truly know how to score a routine). All this whinging and dithering about winning a silver medal????? Oh grow up. Come live in a country that has won fewer medals overall than the Americans have won just in gymnastics. You will learn to cherish medals, no matter what colour they are.
So. America. Grow up. Stop whining and enjoy watching your athletes compete.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Canada Day - Now Available With More Taxes!!!
Happy Birthday, Canada, you big brute of a country. We all wore red and white in your honour. And to help you celebrate your big day, here's a list of the Top Ten Reasons I am Proud to be a Canadian.
10. If only so I can say I am NOT American
9. Our health care system may be in crisis, but at least families don't have to choose between eating and getting Johnny's huge head laceration looked at....
8. I will never have to regret voting for Bush.
7. Our money has colour.
6. The Barenaked Ladies are Canadian, so it must be cool!!
5. What fun it is to live in a country where pop that contains caffeine cannot be clear or colourless.
4. Our country is still young enough to have all it's hair and teeth.
3. Hockey...'nuff said.
2. We get all the benefits of American pop culture without having to live there.
1. Without Canadians, there would be a lot of people in the world running around with their flies open...on account of zippers not being invented.
So there you have it, Canada. Go on and enjoy the rest of your birthday.....while you still have your youth and good looks....
From the Skye/Weisner/Farmer Clan and all it's subsidiaries.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Irony Returns from a Vacay.....
Alright. Gimme what you have, dear irony. I can take it. Or at least I think I can.
About two months ago I started thinking about all the pictures I have on my computer. There are lots that I don't have anywhere else, that would be devastating to lose. Like all the pictures of Kinsey's birth. And her first 2 years. All in all, about 7,000 pictures. I began to worry that something strange might begat my 'puter, rendering the pictures unviewable. Now, I'm sure you all know by now that I am plagued by irony. So we all know this story will not turn out well for my little computer friend.
So I decided I'd better back them all up onto CD's. So, being the naive person I am, I set out to do that. And my computer said "Huh??? You realize, dumbass, that this will take 48 CD's.....do you HAVE 48 CD's???" And I realized that I had about 4. So, it took a bit for me to actually get to Costco to buy the monster pack of CD's. So, weeks later I truck home to copy all my pictures. In the meantime, I had made myself some mixed music CD's (the new version of the mixed tape), and all the songs after track 10 sounded really weird. I deduced (being, you know, aware and all) that my CD burner had some 'issues' and would need replacing.
So.....I consulted my personal tech department (my bro'), and ordered me a new CD burner. I was so proud. Look at all I was able to accomplish!! The day it arrived I decided to tackle the installation myself. After a lot of vacuuming (holy crap do computers ever accumulate a lot of dust bunnies) I managed to get the CD burner installed. Happy happy joy joy!!! I plugged everything back in....turned on the computer......and.....sparks flew and the sound of hissing electricity came out of the back of the computer, along with a hideous smell and a nice puff of smoke. I phoned my tech support and was told that I had let the white smoke escape, which is never a good thing. Basically, it was funeral time for poor 'puter......this was the calamity I had been feeling the foreboding of.
So, basically, I was left with a bill for a new cd burner, a million blank CD's, and a new power supply (so tech support could see if the computer was working). Luckily I was able to recover all the pictures (wow, dodged a bullet on that one!!!) and my old hard drive now functions as the back-up for my (well, our) new Macbook. Which I love more than life itself right now
You may be asking, hey Jenn, have you learned anything from this experience?? And I would have to answer, why YES I have. I have learned that no matter how slim a possibility there is for something strange or ironic to happen to me, I should ALWAYS assume that the worst and most ironic thing will, indeed, come to fruition. The problem is, I can never anticipate exactly when irony will strike, or in what form it will come. Apparently my role on this earth is to give a big laugh to whoever or whatever is controlling my fate.
Alright irony.....whatcha got for me NOW???
About two months ago I started thinking about all the pictures I have on my computer. There are lots that I don't have anywhere else, that would be devastating to lose. Like all the pictures of Kinsey's birth. And her first 2 years. All in all, about 7,000 pictures. I began to worry that something strange might begat my 'puter, rendering the pictures unviewable. Now, I'm sure you all know by now that I am plagued by irony. So we all know this story will not turn out well for my little computer friend.
So I decided I'd better back them all up onto CD's. So, being the naive person I am, I set out to do that. And my computer said "Huh??? You realize, dumbass, that this will take 48 CD's.....do you HAVE 48 CD's???" And I realized that I had about 4. So, it took a bit for me to actually get to Costco to buy the monster pack of CD's. So, weeks later I truck home to copy all my pictures. In the meantime, I had made myself some mixed music CD's (the new version of the mixed tape), and all the songs after track 10 sounded really weird. I deduced (being, you know, aware and all) that my CD burner had some 'issues' and would need replacing.
So.....I consulted my personal tech department (my bro'), and ordered me a new CD burner. I was so proud. Look at all I was able to accomplish!! The day it arrived I decided to tackle the installation myself. After a lot of vacuuming (holy crap do computers ever accumulate a lot of dust bunnies) I managed to get the CD burner installed. Happy happy joy joy!!! I plugged everything back in....turned on the computer......and.....sparks flew and the sound of hissing electricity came out of the back of the computer, along with a hideous smell and a nice puff of smoke. I phoned my tech support and was told that I had let the white smoke escape, which is never a good thing. Basically, it was funeral time for poor 'puter......this was the calamity I had been feeling the foreboding of.
So, basically, I was left with a bill for a new cd burner, a million blank CD's, and a new power supply (so tech support could see if the computer was working). Luckily I was able to recover all the pictures (wow, dodged a bullet on that one!!!) and my old hard drive now functions as the back-up for my (well, our) new Macbook. Which I love more than life itself right now
You may be asking, hey Jenn, have you learned anything from this experience?? And I would have to answer, why YES I have. I have learned that no matter how slim a possibility there is for something strange or ironic to happen to me, I should ALWAYS assume that the worst and most ironic thing will, indeed, come to fruition. The problem is, I can never anticipate exactly when irony will strike, or in what form it will come. Apparently my role on this earth is to give a big laugh to whoever or whatever is controlling my fate.
Alright irony.....whatcha got for me NOW???
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
You want the flute???? You can't handle the flute....
So, I'm not trying to brag, but I have always been fairly musical (I say fairly, because I was never destined to be orchestral). I was able to pick up playing any musical instrument pretty quickly. And I really loved playing. I played the violin from grade 4-6, the clarinet in grade 6, the flute in grade 6, the tenor sax from grade 7-10, the baritone sax from grade 8-9, I played the trombone for a few weeks in grade 6, when playing the clarinet, flute, and violin wasn't quite enough. I was in the choir from grade 3-7. I sang for the Sweet Adelines (acapella, barbershop) for a year. I took piano lessons when I was 20, and made it to grade 2 piano in a month. I also used to wish that I could be Annie and used to sing the songs as loudly as I could in hopes that someone would hear and cast me in the starring role. I have to admit that, with the exception of the piano, I didn't have to try very hard to play the instruments, and I rarely practiced.
I decided about a month ago that I would really like to join Robyn's concert band. You know, get back into being musical and all that. But they didn't need a tenor sax (which I still have, but haven't played in a while). And she said they needed flutes. And I thought, hey, a challenge! So I bought a flute and started practicing. And realized I had a lot of work ahead of me. I thought the 2 weeks of practice I did was great, and that I had caught on to it fairly quickly. There were a few really high notes that I couldn't make, but hey, how often will I need them??? Hah! Sweet irony strikes again.
My first band practice was last Wednesday. It was my most humbling musical experience ever. When I arrived, the conductor was handing out the most complicated, butt-ugly, high noted piece of crap music I had ever seen. It took every ounce of courage in my soul not to run out of the room screaming, bashing people over the head with my flute and cursing the music gods for this twist of fate. I stayed, but it was beyond my better judgment. It was like one of those dreams where you arrive at class only to find you have a test worth 100% of your mark that you didn't study for, or that you have not handed in any of the assignments thus far for the course, and are now failing. And I thought, holy crap. Even if I practice 2 hours every day for the next year, I will still not be where everybody else in the band is. So my first band practice was a huge flop, and I think I may have played one out of every 20 notes in the songs we played. I am not the musician I thought I was.
Guess what? I'm going back. I have been practicing. I'm not giving up. Because I am a glutton for punishment, I enjoy being musically flogged, and I have some perverse need for humiliating experiences. Or I just really want to be able to say "Last summer, at band camp...."
Next practice, I will play 2 out of every 20 notes (that's 1 in 10 for all you fraction wizards out there).
On the bright side, I now have a musical instrument that fits in my bag. It would just be better to have a musical instrument that fits in my bag and that I can play proficiently. But, as the Rolling Stones say, "you can't always get what you want..."
I decided about a month ago that I would really like to join Robyn's concert band. You know, get back into being musical and all that. But they didn't need a tenor sax (which I still have, but haven't played in a while). And she said they needed flutes. And I thought, hey, a challenge! So I bought a flute and started practicing. And realized I had a lot of work ahead of me. I thought the 2 weeks of practice I did was great, and that I had caught on to it fairly quickly. There were a few really high notes that I couldn't make, but hey, how often will I need them??? Hah! Sweet irony strikes again.
My first band practice was last Wednesday. It was my most humbling musical experience ever. When I arrived, the conductor was handing out the most complicated, butt-ugly, high noted piece of crap music I had ever seen. It took every ounce of courage in my soul not to run out of the room screaming, bashing people over the head with my flute and cursing the music gods for this twist of fate. I stayed, but it was beyond my better judgment. It was like one of those dreams where you arrive at class only to find you have a test worth 100% of your mark that you didn't study for, or that you have not handed in any of the assignments thus far for the course, and are now failing. And I thought, holy crap. Even if I practice 2 hours every day for the next year, I will still not be where everybody else in the band is. So my first band practice was a huge flop, and I think I may have played one out of every 20 notes in the songs we played. I am not the musician I thought I was.
Guess what? I'm going back. I have been practicing. I'm not giving up. Because I am a glutton for punishment, I enjoy being musically flogged, and I have some perverse need for humiliating experiences. Or I just really want to be able to say "Last summer, at band camp...."
Next practice, I will play 2 out of every 20 notes (that's 1 in 10 for all you fraction wizards out there).
On the bright side, I now have a musical instrument that fits in my bag. It would just be better to have a musical instrument that fits in my bag and that I can play proficiently. But, as the Rolling Stones say, "you can't always get what you want..."
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