Blech

freak out: (noun) A sudden and apparently causeless change or turn of events.

This is the day the world almost ended.
This is the day Burger King discontinued the Whopper.

Holy crap, it's just a fast food hamburger. Now, I have enjoyed a Whopper before, but I would be just fine if it were to disappear. While I'm tempted to go on some diatribe about fast food and obesity and poor eating habits and Canada vs. the United States and sodium and fat levels, I'll leave well enough alone. All I can say is after Burger King was deemed to be the worst for trans fat in their food, maybe getting rid of the Whopper would be all right.

And even though I know that's not going to happen, at least I'm not like the dude int he video (voice only) who became a man when he finished his first Whopper. Egad.

Bah, humbug!

tired: (adjective) Weary or bored.

Emphasis on the "weary" part of that, because it's not a physical tired I'm feeling right now. It's more mental and emotional. I know it's just the time of year - even though I do love Christmas very VERY much - because there is just so much going on that's wearing me down.

I'm tired of work.
I'm tired of the big puddles of slush at every corner in Toronto.
I'm tired of the people waiting for the streetcar at Queen and University, who just stand on the sidewalk and act all surprised and annoyed when pedestrians have to shove them out of the way.
I'm tired of having to move out of the way of people on the sidewalk who INSIST on walking side-by-side instead of single file, so people can walk the other direction.
I'm tired of seeing Beyonce selling every crappy product known to man.
I'm tired of the stupid drivers who run stop signs, speed through school zones and cut off my crosswalk because they just have to make that right-hand turn or the world will come to an end.
I'm tired of things like Jamie Lynn Spears' pregnancy being big news.
I'm tired of the Leafs' excuses - and justifying why I'm boycotting them this year.
I'm tired of trying to think of the "perfect" gift, when it will really just be shoved in a corner somewhere until yard sale season.

And don't even get me started on tired being spelled "tiRED" but being pronounced "tiERD".

Sigh.

New word happiness

sol-ip-sis-tic: (adjective) Extreme preoccupation with and indulgence of one's feelings, desires, etc.; egoistic, self-absorption.

I stumbled across this word today in an article in the Toronto Star and I am going to use it EVERY chance I get. There's something incredibly self-satisfying (solipsistic, even?) calling someone arrogant and egotistical with a word that they most likely will not only not know the definition of, but will have never heard before.

THIS is why I love words.

Captain Crosby

o-ver-kill: (noun) An excess of what is required or suitable, as because of zeal or misjudgment.

zeal: (noun) Fervor for a person, cause or object.


I get it. Sidney Crosby is the greatest, awesomest, incrediblest, wonderfulest, superbest, fantasticest player ever in the whole entire world of hockey ever. Ever. EVER. I mean, honestly, why hasn't the NHL expanded and added a 31st team, the Sidney Crosby team, where it's just Crosby because he's so good he doesn't need any other teammates, ever. EVER.

Yes, he's good. Yes, he does pretty things on the ice. Yes, he deserves the praise and accolades. Yes, he has his own clothing line. But why does every game that has Pittsburgh in it become the Sidney Crosby Show? And that's before the game even starts - all pre-game interviews revolve around him, all idle chatter is about his stats, all emphasis is on him.

Sidney, Sidney, Sidney...he's Marcia to the league's Jan Brady.

I don't blame him for all the attention; he really is that good and does honestly deserve the attention. But there are so many other good players - they may not post the stats that Sidney does, but they still play a pretty game: Lecavalier, Heatley, Staal (all of them), Ovechkin, Malkin, Luongo, Kovalchuk, Zetterberg, Lidstrom, Brodeur, Lundqvist, Iginla, St. Louis, Toews ... and that's just to start. It's exciting to watch Crosby, but it's also fun to watch hockey. Since the lock-out ended, the talent has really been spread more evenly across the league and I think it's a good time to be a hockey fan. (I'm not going to get into things that still need fixing - that will be for another time.)

I like him, I really do. But I'm Crosby-ed out. So can we move on?

When books and movies collide

ad-ap-ta-tion: (noun) a written work (as a novel) that has been recast in a new form.

Oh Chapters, how right you are...

I hate movie covers on books. Alas, I did not buy Memoirs of a Geisha or Children of Men soon enough, and now I can't seem to find them with their original covers. As cute as Clive Owen is, I still don't like it. Now I must acquire a copy of No Country for Old Men before that cover gets ruined too. (They have released a movie cover, but I should still be able to find the original...) As much as I hate them, I guess movie covers are a necessary evil, as I'm sure sales of books go up once they are branded with the movie imagery. And there's nothing wrong with people buying more books; it just won't be me buying those movie covers.

I'm dreaming of a white...holiday?

Christ - mas: (noun) The annual festival of the Christian church commemorating the birth of Jesus.

I had the pleasure of seeing White Christmas: The Musical yesterday and it was everything I could have hoped for and more. I'll be honest, I haven't seen the movie (*hanging head in shame*), but I've been told the musical is very close to the film. And the singing! The dancing! The fits-right-into-today's-fashion 1950's costumes! It made me wish I could tap dance in a poodle skirt.

But there was one part that confused me a bit. In one scene, someone makes a reference to Hanukkah, which I was told was not in the movie. I understand the desire to be multicultural and all but it's called White Christmas. It's full of Christmas trees. There are Christmas cards. It culminates on Christmas Eve. So why can't it just be left at Christmas? That's what it is about, that's what it is celebrating.

Of course, this extends into today's society as well. (Here I go, on my soapbox.) Yes, Christmas is a Christian holiday and yes, there are many other religions that celebrate holidays this time of year that are not Christmas. But at the risk of offending those religions and holidays, I'm not supposed to wish people Merry Christmas? I'm supposed to send holiday cards? Put up a holiday tree? If so, does that mean we should call the menorah a "holiday candlestick"?

Just call it was it is. Let me celebrate the way I want. And in the immortal words of Clark Griswold, "Have the hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny f***ing Kaye."

Paronomania!

par-o-no-ma-sia: (noun) the use of a word in different senses or the use of words similar in sound to achieve a specific effect, as humour or a dual meaning; punning.

"Paronomasia" is a real word; "paronomania" is not. It comes from the Reginald Hill book Dialogues of the Dead and is defined as "a clinical obsession with word games". But I prefer "paronomania", even if I'm not clinically obsessed with anything. I just like words. I like the way they sound, the way the come together to form things of great beauty and intense ugliness, the way they do (or don't) rhyme, the way they can express so much with so few syllables. Like I said, I'm not clinically obsessed but I like the idea of being a bit manic when it comes to words.

The saying is that a picture is worth a thousand words. Then, as we go about our days, the images we see all around us create thousands of words for us. And each one of those words has a definition, made up of other words. And they are everywhere, informing us, guiding us, enlightening us. But mostly defining us.