Since arriving in Toronto and appetite and transportation wise a lot has change. The much desired side effect of this change is weight loss. I should be bouncing off the walls with joy; weight loss without the boiled chicken, flax flakes, blanched vegetable diet. But what about the parts we don't want to lose?
I am not a woman known for possessing junk in the trunk- quite the opposite so imagine my shock and surprise when I prep my little body for a shower. After disrobing I step past mirror and stop. I do a matrix lean backward to make eye contact with myself and reluctantly pull the rest of my body backwards. I made a startling observation.
The indentation between my arse/ass/buttocks/bottom/plumper and my spine/back is diminishing in width.
so after doing on average about twenty 360 degree spins in front of the mirror I realise I am in danger of being late for class because I should have showered 10 minutes ago. However, film technology must wait goddangit. So I start to do the body check and notice that I am losing weight which I should be bouncing off the walls over except that I now am in danger of having no ASS! I would like to keep my ass, I don't have one it does what it can to balance out my gifted bosom and losing it would be bad for my reputation. I'm a good looking gyal.
So I am officially in a state of panic and hysteria and must be comforted. So I frantically start messaging my partner who says to me "calm down baby" after laughing at me. After placating my emotions, the mission was born.
So I now walk up and do toning exercises in the morning and will be accepting donations to the Teneile gym fund. So the mission should you just to support me is to Save my arse!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Lamb, The Line and The Wardrobe
In my move to Canada there is an obvious climate change which undoubtedly has lead to a wardrobe change. Being a proverbial observer and a victim of ADHD I can't help but notice the things that are happening around me. In Jamaican I'm generally thrown by the Ugg boots walking by me in burger king or that woman in those yeast infection causing jeans.
In Canada it appears that the line between warmth and serial killer is very thin. You see the trench coat unfortunately has a bad reputation. Events such as Columbine, bank robberies and most mass murder shootings has resulted in this negative portrayal of the trench coat. What this has resulted in also is the lifetime movie trying to be coy by using other kinds of coats thus the coat has a bad reputation.
So when I go on the train, the young lady with the black trench coat and pink fashion water boots doesn't scare me. On the other hand, the gentleman in the long black coat in dirty shoes, with a blank cold stare on his face does. I can't help but think there is some serious artillery in his right coat pocket.
Like last night there was a gentleman walking towards me at the bus stop and I honestly wanted to push him in the line of on coming traffic before he did it to me. I guess the real issue isn't the coat is it? It's the persona in the coat as well. If you're going to wear clothes with a bad reputation at least where it with some amount of glee, a smile on your face and a sunflower in your coat pocket. Not literally obviously, but you get the idea.
So, upon a deep analysis of my fear of the coat or the persona in the coat, I think the bigger problem is I need to buy a coat and I don't want to look like a serial killer.
In Canada it appears that the line between warmth and serial killer is very thin. You see the trench coat unfortunately has a bad reputation. Events such as Columbine, bank robberies and most mass murder shootings has resulted in this negative portrayal of the trench coat. What this has resulted in also is the lifetime movie trying to be coy by using other kinds of coats thus the coat has a bad reputation.
So when I go on the train, the young lady with the black trench coat and pink fashion water boots doesn't scare me. On the other hand, the gentleman in the long black coat in dirty shoes, with a blank cold stare on his face does. I can't help but think there is some serious artillery in his right coat pocket.
Like last night there was a gentleman walking towards me at the bus stop and I honestly wanted to push him in the line of on coming traffic before he did it to me. I guess the real issue isn't the coat is it? It's the persona in the coat as well. If you're going to wear clothes with a bad reputation at least where it with some amount of glee, a smile on your face and a sunflower in your coat pocket. Not literally obviously, but you get the idea.
So, upon a deep analysis of my fear of the coat or the persona in the coat, I think the bigger problem is I need to buy a coat and I don't want to look like a serial killer.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Come on Subway...I'm dying here
The Subway... Its a novel method of transportation. The basic idea is to get the individual from point A to B on one fare provided there are no stopovers. The subway is just as immortalised in films about New York as the Central Park or the Statue of Liberty is. You can't tell a tale of the city that never sleeps without a subway scene. The New York City Subway is a part of that city's popular culture.
Unfortunately, my tale of subway brilliance comes from Toronto, Canada.They got subways too eh? But here's the thing for some strange reason every time I go on the subway, I'm waiting for Collins to break out into song like that scene in Rent. I get on the subway and my eyes start looking for that actor or that person who's gonna make that moment happen for me. " Sunny Santa Fe would be nice..." And then I have a delusional moment and wonder if that person is suppose to be me. But my insanity doesn't last long enough for me to inflict such pain upon others.
So here I am on the subway waiting for it break out in song and it doesn't. And I find myself looking at the design of the subway train from the seats to the standing bars to the doors to enter and the doors between the cabins. I notice what each person is doing and I'm thinking we've got the makings of magic here.
All kinds of magic too...horror can happen on the subway. Let's face its underground and an excellent location for a crime. The subway scene "The Pursuit of Happyness" may lead one to pursue suicide.
Tony Manero has a fun subway scene at the end of Saturday Night Fever. Event Step Up 2 God forgive me for remembering this has an amazing subway scene. The subway is movie magic...its the greatest film location ever invented. The Seinfield subway episode is EPICNESS.
So what I'm trying to figure out is what's wrong with my subway. Is the problem that I'm not in New York? I've got it all...the hallow sound of underground, the grunge kid, the guy in the suit, the artist, the crazy person, the steps leading down and the bodies coming and going. I'm beginning to feel like I've been duped and I don't appreciate it. Cause, well cause I've grown to like taking the subway.
I just need the other people on the train to see my vision you know.
In other news it seems the magic has been happening on the bus. I've been serenaded in Hindi, been shamelessly hit on, viewed a rather unattractive make-out session and a close encounter of the 5th kind with humanity. Okay, maybe the last one isn't unique to the bus so much as its just a part of life.
You think Make a Wish Foundation would help me out. I got big subway dreams
Unfortunately, my tale of subway brilliance comes from Toronto, Canada.They got subways too eh? But here's the thing for some strange reason every time I go on the subway, I'm waiting for Collins to break out into song like that scene in Rent. I get on the subway and my eyes start looking for that actor or that person who's gonna make that moment happen for me. " Sunny Santa Fe would be nice..." And then I have a delusional moment and wonder if that person is suppose to be me. But my insanity doesn't last long enough for me to inflict such pain upon others.
So here I am on the subway waiting for it break out in song and it doesn't. And I find myself looking at the design of the subway train from the seats to the standing bars to the doors to enter and the doors between the cabins. I notice what each person is doing and I'm thinking we've got the makings of magic here.
All kinds of magic too...horror can happen on the subway. Let's face its underground and an excellent location for a crime. The subway scene "The Pursuit of Happyness" may lead one to pursue suicide.
Tony Manero has a fun subway scene at the end of Saturday Night Fever. Event Step Up 2 God forgive me for remembering this has an amazing subway scene. The subway is movie magic...its the greatest film location ever invented. The Seinfield subway episode is EPICNESS.
So what I'm trying to figure out is what's wrong with my subway. Is the problem that I'm not in New York? I've got it all...the hallow sound of underground, the grunge kid, the guy in the suit, the artist, the crazy person, the steps leading down and the bodies coming and going. I'm beginning to feel like I've been duped and I don't appreciate it. Cause, well cause I've grown to like taking the subway.
I just need the other people on the train to see my vision you know.
In other news it seems the magic has been happening on the bus. I've been serenaded in Hindi, been shamelessly hit on, viewed a rather unattractive make-out session and a close encounter of the 5th kind with humanity. Okay, maybe the last one isn't unique to the bus so much as its just a part of life.
You think Make a Wish Foundation would help me out. I got big subway dreams
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