Dumpstergate 2010.

A couple of weeks ago, I was strolling past a Calgary Sun paper box, and a headline caught me eye:
"Dumpster Baby Found in City's Northwest"
My first thought was "Oh. How sad.", but my second thought was "Halloween is a'comin'!"

For the record, little dumpster baby is fine. Chances are, he will have a close relationship with his therapist in the future (happens to the best of us), and he may never get to know his real mom, but let's face the facts: the kid's a star!

I went out the night prior to Halloween with a hungover stomach. I wore this costume to Local 522 for another amazing edition of Stars & Muscles. The bar was dark and crowed, a few people asked what I was, but most were fixated on the impending nip-slips that were about to go down (unavoidable when sexy costumes are out in full effect). I ended up taking off early, and not many of my pals caught a glimpse of my most clever costume yet.

Tonight, in between answering the door and dropping handfuls of candy into plastic pumpkins, I figured that I should post a photo of the costume of Facebook for all to see. What a horrible, horrible mistake.

Somewhere between high school and now, most folks have lost their sense of humor. Perhaps it's because a bunch of the chicks I knew in grade school are now full-fledged baby machines, but the amount of hate mail I received was staggering. Responses ranged from "What the fuck is wrong with you?!?" to "Obviously you don't have kids." (they were saying that like it's a bad thing). I had 26 people un-friend me in a span of an hour. Good riddance, you humorless bastards.

I took the photo down. No regrets, I just didn't feel like reading any more angry comments. I posted on a few select friend's walls, there was no reason that the photos should never see the light of day again... It was an amazing costume! There were folks dressed as Hitlers, child molesters, KKK-members, and dudes in fucking blackface, and I'm the one getting in shit? Relax, dudes. I didn't realize that a holiday built around dressing up like sluts and eating candy was such a somber occasion.

Here's a new headline for you: "Apparently, Halloween Is No Laughing Matter". Put that one on your front page, Calgary Sun.

Also, how am I going to top this costume next year, guys?

~sarah p.

The Inkling.

Those who know me well know that I have never had the urge to have children. Now, in the future, ever. Despite constant cries of "You'll change your mind!", and "Just give it a few more years!", I'm almost 29, and it ain't gonna happen. I love Dylan to death, but quite frankly, I do not want to see what the mingling of our gene pools, combined with nine months of cooking next to my small intestine, would churn out.
However, the other night, staring at the TV while in a overtime-induced stupor after work, I felt a small, strange feeling in the pit of my stomach... An inkling, if you will. What if I had a tiny person to carry around with me? Someone to dress in cute outfits, someone to push around in a sweet little carriage... My petite, well-dressed, apple-cheeked cherub would be the envy of all of my friends. It could be a wonderful, life-changing experience! Motherhood! Bravo!
That's when I spilled my iced tea on my sweatshirt, and came back down to earth.
Waaaaait a minute.
On second thought, the the odd, overtaking feeling that had just swept over my conscience was not a newfound desire to spring children from my loins, but rather a familiar (twenty-five year old) yearning for a really bitchin' Cabbage Patch Doll.

~sarah p.

Vote Purp.

As of Monday, Calgary has a new mayor, and for once, it's the guy I would've actually voted for. I used the word 'would've' because I failed at voting. Miserably.

I got up bright and early on Monday morning, and ran up to my voting station to place my ballot before 8:30AM. I was facing a long day at work, and wasn't sure I would be able to make it in time to vote in the evening. Too bad the polls didn't open until 10AM.
At 7PM, I ran as fast as I could to get back to my voting station. I got in lineup, ready and willing to place my ballot.
I know what you guys are thinking, but I didn't screw up my ballot by writing "yeah!" in the check-boxes instead of an 'x' (to be fair, I have made this mistake in the past). On a side note, I don't really think it's fair that you can only draw a check-mark or an 'x' to place a vote... They throw out your ballot if you don't mark the boxes properly! Ask any seven-year-old girl if a happy face or heart is just as valid as a check-mark or an 'x', and they will tell you what's up. Come on, now.
No, no, my friends... I did something far, far stupider than trying to 'spice up' my ballot paper. Far stupider.
I had only, shall we say, 'skimmed' my voter guide, and hadn't paid much attention to my appropriate location. When I gave my ID to the lady at the front, she looked at me with a panicked concern. "Sorry, honey," she said "You're at the wrong voting station". I asked if there was any way I could still vote. The polls were closing in minutes. The lady called over the head honcho, who shook his head in disgust at me, and turned me away (sorry, dude- that voter's guide was far too dry to read cover to cover- if they would've put some more pictures or a scratch-and-sniff motif in the booklet, I probably would've made it to the right place at the right time).
I was screwed...There was no way, on foot, that I could make it to my voting station before it closed. I walked home with my head down, terrified that my single vote would fuck up the results of the entire election. Imagine my relief when, at just after 10PM, Naheed Nenshi walked away with the victory by more than one vote.

I'm proud that Calgary finally decided to go against the 'wealthy middle-age white guy for mayor' grain. That shit didn't work two years ago, four years ago, forty years ago. Nenshi's an every-man's mayor; the kind of dude that would eat at a Chinese buffet and watch 30 Rock on a Thursday evening. The kind of guy that just may be able to get shit done. Dude is mad relateable.
He was raised in Marlborough, which gives him both street-cred and leading authority in Jamaican food. He is single, which means that he won't waste his breath trying to preserve 'family values' in the city. Fuckin' Bronconnier.
Plus, I can't wait to see how his dusky cinnamon complexion will contrast against the requisite giant white Stetson hat that he'll wear all throughout Stampede (probably beautifully).

Man, it's time this city shook things up a little bit, because we're the type of city who has a 'comfort zone' based on Budweiser, rodeos, Caucasians, suburbs, country music, SUVs, butter chicken, $1000 strollers, and absurdly shitty weather.
You've got a lot of work to do, Nenshi. Glad to have you on board.

~sarah p.

Behind The Scenes: Rick Ross Featuring Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa "Super High" (Sativa Remix)

Man, I have been geeking on Teflon Don for months now. Lately, my attention span with rap albums has been wavering. Most albums, beyond this one and, surprisingly, Big Boi's new album, are a two-week fling.
However, I'm totally in love, for life, with the Super High Remix, and even more in love with this 'making of' video:



Catch the highlights at:
0:57- Wiz Khalifa loses his train of thought for the first, but not the last, time in the video.
1:05- Wiz Khalifa forgets where he is.
1:18- "They have smoked so much already, and it's not even halfway through. That was just, like, recreational smoking to get ready for it, but now we can get super high... Turn it up. I need to eat first, though. Fuck that."
1:43- Rick Ross' entry shot- glamour shot of diamond crosses around his neck, panning up to red, squinty eyes.
2:00- Rosay's personal shout out to 'Toucan'!
2:17- Rick Ross' exit shot- red, squinty eyes, panning down to a glamour shot of diamond crosses around his neck.
2:19- Perhaps Curren$y shouldn't eat and try to talk at the same time.
2:48- Walter's: A Place to Remember
2:55- "This is like, not the video shoot." "This is, like, behind the scenes, actually."
3:09- "And just trying to get uhhhh... Emergency... Uhhhh... I can't... Woooo, pause."
3:12 to 3:35- Straight gibberish.
4:03- Curren$y wanders off like a curious small child. Probably not for the first time that day.

Moderation, boys... Moderation. That way you don't get lost in downtown Atlanta at 1PM on a Monday during a video shoot. Chances are, they had to spend an hour out of their day trying to find Curren$y in the crowd at the hot dog stand. When they finally found him, squirting relish in his mouth at the condiment cart, Rick Ross probably ran over, hugged him, and said "Never leave my side again, okay? I was worried sick!".

Anyway, how are you guys? Perfect? Super perfect?

xoxo
~sarah p.

A note to Autumn 2010:

I see that you have your bag packed, I know you're ready to leave, but please, baby, don't go. We've had some great times together this year. The way you made the leaves fall to the ground? Beautiful. Your colors? Intoxicating. I thought we were still in the "honeymoon stage". You were into me, I was into you, what changed? I have been wearing my prettiest light jackets and boots to try and keep you interested in me! Is the magic really gone already?
How you gonna play me like this, Autumn? I don't mean to be cocky, but I feel like you kinda owe it to me to stick around for a while longer, after giving me the cold shoulder and taking off early last year.
I really feel like we had something special. The way you hit twenty degrees more than once? This year, I wore a bathing suit in front of you for the first time in 28 years! Now you want to turn around and take off? I love you. You make me want to break out into Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel", or the Yeah Yeah Yeah's "Maps", or some corny shit like that. I need you! Damn, baby. You're the world to me right now!

Okay. Look. I'm sorry I'm getting so exited.
I know you can't stay forever, but the truth is, Winter is a cruel bitch mistress that takes away my livelihood every single year... He doesn't take care of me like you do, baby. He tries to freeze my fingertips off, and just when I think he's gone, he wrecks all of my fun by snowing, then trying to freeze my ears off. Sometimes, he even prevents Spring from coming and helping me escape his abusive ways. In the past, he has even gone as far as to ruin my Summer. Not joking! He had made it snow in fucking August, and you of all folks should know how horrible he is... He steps on your game almost every year! Stick up for yourself, man.
Please stay. My relationship with winter is not healthy, and only you can save me, Autumn 2010.
Don't leave me, baby. Please.
~sarah p.