1. I was super jazzed when The Flames got booted out of the playoffs
last night. No more puke-lined sidewalks. No more cars with Flames flags
driving up and down the street laying on the horn. No more using a
hockey team as an excuse to sexually harass. And
hockey? That's winter shit anyway. It's almost summer, bitches. This brings me to my next point:
2. I hate winter so fucking much. It snowed this morning, and I seriously
considered calling in sick to work so that I didn't have to leave the
house. Instead of moving to a warmer climate, like anyone with a brain
would do, I have decided to stew in anger for eight months of the year.
I've always said that my hatred of the frost makes me love summer so
much more, but that could just be a weird theory. I have a lot of those.
3. Nenshi? Meh. Sure, he's a super entertaining and likeable dude (and pretty adorable, like a big brown teddy bear), but
city mayors have very little power over what happens. A sassy Twitter and a ride on a Pride float do not mean that you actually run the show around here. Plus, like all
preceding mayors, he coddles the upper and upper-middle class folks.
The Cycle Track Network seems like a great idea, but the reality is:
people that can afford to own and maintain a cycle also have the
functional ability to get to and from work by just riding down the
street. After years and years of working with low-income families with huge financial barriers to getting around the city, I
approached the mayor's office, presented them with the numbers I had
crunched and a plan to offer all low-income folks the choice of a free
bike for life (with repairs!) or a bus pass for the year; a plan that
would actually leave the city with a transportation budget to spare. I
was told that they need for dudes that wear spandex with padded butts
was far greater than those of families that don't have bus fare to get
to a doctor's appointment. In my mind, a mayor is a mayor is a mayor,
with our precious Nensh' included.
4. The Stampede. Lawwwwwd help me. There is not a more awful week on
this planet. I guess it would be cool if it's your "thing" to get tanked
on awful beer that you had to wait in line for an hour to get, all
while a chubby mom in a tied-off gingham shirt and straw Cowboy hat
tries to grab the asses of dudes in Wranglers (side note- dudes in Wranglers: is
there anything worse?) while simultaneously screaming "Yahooooo" in your
ear with wicked whiskey-breath. All of this "fun" will cost you a bare
minimum of $300 in a single afternoon, and some people go every. fucking. day.
5. I firmly believe that Peter's Drive-In milkshakes are nothing special. Milk and ice cream and syrup are the same no matter where it comes from. Sorry.
~sarah p.
p.s. For the record, I love this city. My family is here, the Glenbow is a great museum, the zoo is kind-of a rockin' time, 17th Ave is a fabulous place to watch mentally ill folks, it's nice to be able to see the mountains, and it's still semi-affordable. Also, there is a candy store here that knows me by first name, and that is really fucking amazing.
Monday, May 11, 2015
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