Tag Archives: Totally Weird

Just a Car Crash Away

Posted by on October 15, 2011 4 comments
Look Ma I'm An Artist!

Last night, I was minding my own business, just heading to Red Lobster for some crab legs with my gentleman friend. I was looking forward to the hot savoury biscuits and the mid-week alcoholic beverage I planned on ordering (don’t look at me like that, Dad, I’m a grown up and I’ll drink vodka on Thursdays if I wanna!) and was just explaining to my companion that I really didn’t understand the appeal of drawn butter with seafood cause, well, it’s just freaking butter and who put butter on meat, anyway?

As we were preparing to pull into the parking lot, we noticed some shit-for-brains on one of those e-bikes zooming down the sidewalk. The sidewalk! Whatta jerk! He was weaving from side to side too – it was ridiculous. So we’re just about to make a right turn into the parking lot (using the driveway with the big IN sign, cause we like obeying signs yo) when a dude in a white work van makes a left turn into the street (from the IN driveway, because he’s a rebel who disobeys signs I guess). This guy was seriously ugly – bright yellowish red afro that started right at the top of his head because of his receding hair line, a sleeveless basketball jersey, and crazy I’m-on-crack bugged out eyes.

Well, he didn’t look where he was going when he pulled out, because he was too busy cackling at e-bike guy, and he T BONED ANOTHER CAR! We saw the whole thing. Read more »

Bicycle Rage

Posted by on August 24, 2011 12 comments
Aaaaaand the bikes go crunch.

Well, that’s it. I’ve succumbed to cyclist’s rage. But not as a result of actually, you know, riding my bicycle. No, my friends, my ire is roused today by some loutish miscreant who lives in my building and who’s been messing with my new blue bike.

(It occurs to me that I haven’t yet written about my newly acquired wheels – maybe tomorrow, when the anger has settled into a plan of action.)

About two weeks ago, someone snuck behind my house, hopped on my daughter’s bike (which, it should be noted, has two flat tires and hasn’t been ridden in over a year) and took it for a joyride in the middle of the night. I never would have noticed, except they didn’t put it back where they got it – they left it leaning against my front porch. What a stupid thing to do, I thought, but it’s really my fault for leaving it unlocked.

From that moment on, I was (a bit) more vigilant in locking up our bikes. I live in a quiet residential neighbourhood and all spring and summer, the bikes were unlocked without a problem. Still though, I didn’t want to tempt fate.

However, Sunday night I forgot to lock my bike, and guess what happened? Read more »

How Far Would You Go To Protect Yourself?

Posted by on March 17, 2011 1 comment

Imagine yourself in physical or mortal danger. If you don’t do something to protect yourself, serious harm or death will befall you or your family.

How far would you go to protect yourself? What would you do? I’d do anything to save my family, you’re  thinking. I would kill to save my son. I would do whatever it took. No questions asked.

Would you lie? Cheat? Steal? Would you defend yourself physically, even if it meant the harm or death of your attacker?

What if your attacker were your own child? Would you kill your own child to protect yourself, if your child were trying to kill you?

Seems a little far-fetched, even to me, that this would happen. I mean really, what child would try to kill its mother? And what parent would, in turn, place more value on her own life than their child’s, and actually kill that child to save their own soul? I can’t imagine that ever happening.

Unfortunately, I don’t have to imagine it happening. Reality has supplied us with this exact scenario in Calgary, Alberta, where Aset Magomadova, a refugee from Chechnya, stands accused of killing her fourteen-year-old daughter Aminat by ligature strangulation [link] in what she calls self-defense.

[link] Toronto Star article
[link] Global News, Calgary

According to the media, the fourteen-year-old girl had a history of drug abuse and regularly took crystal meth, which is known to cause erratic, violent behaviour in users [link], as well as mood swings and unpredictability. The articles go on to say that the police had been called to the home five times in the last five months, by the mother, who feared for her safety and that of her young son, who has muscular dystrophy. Aminat was often brought home by police, high, after violent fights with her mother.

This family obviously had a lot of problems, but despite repeated visits from police for domestic disturbance, no authorities were ever brought in to assist the family, despite Aset’s desire for intervention. She felt she could no longer control her daughter, and with the help of her sister, attempted to convey this fear to the police. She even stayed in a battered women’s shelter for a few days, less than a month ago.

Nobody ever referred her to the appropriate social services, such as the Calgary and Area Child and Family Services, or the Domestic Dispute and Cultural Resources units of the Calgary Police. This family could have been helped. This girl could have been saved.

How did Calgary fail this struggling family after it survived refugee untold horrors at the hands of Russian soldiers? Who knows the horror in that girl’s mind after living through what we can only imagine in our worst nightmares. It’s no wonder she turned to drugs to alleviate the damage done by terror. But it all went horribly wrong.

Now, the girl’s mother is in jail, charged with second-degree murder, and her wheelchair-bound son is in foster care. It breaks my heart. However, I am torn.

I’m trying to put myself in this woman’s shoes. I imagine that Gwen Junior is older, the same size as me, and prone to violent drug-induced rage. I imagine that she beat me. I imagine that she smashes furniture, breaks windows, and runs away constantly, only to be brought home by police time after time. I imagine her coming at me with her fists or with a weapon, hatred and rage in her eyes, intent on causing me physical boldily harm. What would I do? Would I allow her to hurt me? Would I try to protect myself without causing her pain, if it were at all possible? Or, with my backagainst a wall, would I fight back?

The thought haunts me. What would be more powerful: maternal instinct or fight-or-flight response?

* Article originally written in March 2007



Horoscope Shmoroscope. NOT.

Posted by on January 20, 2011 2 comments

Okay so here’s something you don’t know about me: I looooooove superstitions. They make me squeal with glee. Not because I actually believe that shit – but because it makes life interesting. I mean, you can totally break up the monotony of a nine-hour drive up into Northern Ontario by doing things like holding your breath as you pass cemeteries and lifting your feet off the floor of the car if you’re going over a railroad track… and there are just so many other juicy ones, like throwing salt over your shoulder if you knock over the shaker (extra points for aiming at the goddamn ankle biter in the booth behind you who’s been kicking your seat for twenty minutes) and making a wish at 11:11 (which I did this year – twice – on January 11th and where is my pony, thank you very much?).

One “superstition” I particularly enjoy is reading my horoscope. I normally don’t put much stock in it but the past week has been extra freaky for my friend Michelle and I in the horrorscope department. Check this out:

This holiday season, the drama llama came to visit. I tried so damn hard to make it awesome and it just… wasn’t. I was super sad about it until, the day before the offending parties flew the coop (or the llama pasture, as the case may be), I read my horoscope as published in Eye Weekly:

Sagittarius (Nov 22-Dec 21)
After all this time trying to keep up with the Jones’, you finally get a peek at what the Jones are really like deep down inside and it’s not very nice. The selfish, manipulative behaviour of some people you once admired makes your own family look like the freaking Cleavers. Maybe where you come from isn’t so bad after all.

Whoa, Nelly! How accurate is this? I’ve busted my butt for YEARS trying to rock the casbah, and I’ve finally come to the realization that I am just too awesome for some people to handle. My horoscope just reiterated it for me. The grass ain’t always greener on the other side, kids. But it’s green like dolla dolla bills over here!

Now my friend Michelle had a crazy experience of her own. Last week, she found 30$ in the pocket of a seldom worn cardigan, she realized she forgot to cash her last 2010 paycheck, AND a former employer in (the much loathed country of) Australia  she’d been fighting with for almost 9 months finally decided to pay her for the overtime she’d worked before blowing that penal colony pop stand. She says when she read her weekly horoscope, her skepticism vanished:

Gemini May 21-June 20
G’day, Gemini! Things are definitely looking up for you this week. You’ll find money where you least expect it, like in the bottom of a reusable shopping bag, or on the ground when it falls from the pocket of the Aussie bloke who just rained blows on you for asking him if he was descended from rapists. Crikey!

So? Do you read  your horoscope? Do you believe in it? Did you have to give up your much-loved zodiac sign to become a… a… Ophiuchus??? If you’re one of the unfortunate souls who had to move to a new zodiac address, I feel for ya… I missed that boat by one day. But don’t worry, we still love ya.