Blogathon 46 – 4:30
July 26th, 2009I always sleep really well in hotels because of the blackout shades.
Perhaps writing that down will help free it from my brain, so I stop obsessing about how tired I am.
I doubt it.
I always sleep really well in hotels because of the blackout shades.
Perhaps writing that down will help free it from my brain, so I stop obsessing about how tired I am.
I doubt it.
I was going to take a picture & show you what’s on TV at 4:00am, but my camera doesn’t like the contrast.
It’s infomercials.
Perhaps no pic is better.
This is getting really, really hard. I am trying to go to my “happy place.”
For me, that place thinking about travel. I’ve been fortunate to have taken some fantastic trips to various places in the world. London, Korea, Morocco, Grand Cayman, New York, Las Vegas.
Our next major trip is slated to be to Thailand in February. We’re hoping to leave town during the Olympics (both to escape the mayhem, and because getting out of Raincouver for a spell in February is a really nice thing to do) and head to the country we’ve heard some great things about.
If you’re still up with me, have you been to Thailand? Any travel tips?
Or, what’s your happy place?
Or, if you’re still up with me and haven’t donated, what the heck are you waiting for?!?!?!?!
Pledge through the Blogathon Site
or
Directly through the SPCA Paws for a Cause donation portal.
Top 10 things I love about Tanya.
Written at her sleep-deprived request.
10. She has excellent taste in friends
9. She’s not afraid to be a girly-girl
8. She constantly strives for improvement
7. She doesn’t understand the concept of “can’t”
6. She doesn’t settle
5. She’ll put up with a nutter blogging into the wee hours
4. She’s always up for adventure
3. She’s genuinely joyful and optimistic
2. She’s a dog person
1. She’s a highly excellent friend!
Back to the SPCA, the whole reason I’m doing this wacky “blog all day and all night” thing.
They’ve got a Pet on the Net feature, where they highlight some special animals needing homes each week.
The latest pets are three cats, and since I am not a cat person at all, I thought perhaps some of you out there might be more feline-inclined and be able to, or know someone who wants to, give one of these three lovely kitties at home.
“Tiny” 117352
Tiny has a big heart, despite being surrendered to the BC SPCA’s Kelowna Branch just after Valentine’s Day in 2008. What a way to treat this sweet, loving gal! Tiny is a six-year-old domestic longhaired tuxedo cat, who is all dressed up with no place to go. She’s litter-box trained, uses a scratching post instead of the furniture, and gets along well with other cats. She loves attention, and the more she gets, the louder she purrs. One of her favourite “activities” is curling up near the window where the sun can warm her beautiful fur.
“Fiona” 148814
Poor Fiona is suffering from Black Cat Syndrome! That is, she doesn’t attract attention or command interest like her multicoloured calico, tortie and tabby counterparts do, simply because she’s black. On average, black cats spend about 15 per cent longer in shelter care than other cats, for reasons that can only be speculated. It could be that they’re difficult to photograph and thus to promote, but it could also be that they just don’t stand out enough. Fiona is a gorgeous black cat who was living a stray’s life, fending for herself, until a Good Samaritan picked her up and brought her to the shelter. She had a cat cold when she arrived back in November, but she’s healthy now and on the hunt for her forever home.
“Chameleon” 170479
Chameleon is a 14-year-old Siamese mix who has only been at the shelter a short time, but the busy environment is no place for an old girl like her. She arrived with her seven-year-old brother, J.C., when their owner moved away and couldn’t take them. She hasn’t been able to express her true personality just yet, but she appears to be a gentle, healthy cat who would like her next home to be her last.
Tiny, Fiona and Chameleon are available at the BC SPCA’s Kelowna Branch.
If you are interested in meeting Tiny, Fiona or Chameleon or any of the other animals in care, telephone us at the BC SPCA Kelowna Branch at 250-861-7722.
Or if acquiring a cat isn’t in your future, perhaps you’ll be compelled to donate, so that the shelters can continue to house cats like these three.
I’m blogging for 24 hours straight to support the BC SPCA
Pledge through the Blogathon Site
or
Directly through the SPCA Paws for a Cause donation portal.
One of the best stand-up comedy bits I’ve ever heard is an Irish comedian “complaining” about his girlfriend. She snores.
“Oh, but don’t I sound like a kitten, purring?”
“Aww. Bless. No. You sound like a cat, drownin’ in oatmeal!”
*cue sound effect of comedian making “cat drowning in oatmeal” noises*
Tanya snores. Ever so slightly. Much more on the “kitten purring” than the “cat in oatmeal” side. But it’s definitely snoring.
Don’t tell her I told you!
I have a terrible, terrible sunburn.
Because I am an idiot, and spent the day on top of a mountain without applying sunscreen. As if having the bottle in my purse is enough.
I do this all the damn time. While I make sure my moisturizer and makeup have at least SPF 15, I’m completely in denial about my need for actual, proper sunscreen when going out in the blazing sun.
Perhaps you can offer some reassurance that I’m not alone in my idiocy. What common-sense thing are you stupid about?
And speaking of Barry, he sent this over (to ease the burden on my rapidly deteriorating mind) after staying up late (he’s 2 time-zones ahead) for no good reason at all!
As a certified “prairie boy” I have had ample opportunity to observe what I like to call “plainsbillies” – hillbillies without the benefit of hills. Tonight I write from the lobby of a hotel in Regina Saskatchewan, having journeyed from my home in Alberta. It was 33 degrees for most of the 8 hour trip, made in full protective armour and full-face helmet on my motorbike. I mention the details of my apparel to protect myself from a shin-kicking from my beloved Netchick. It’s also to give me an excuse of heat stroke for any of my witticisms that may cause legal action to be taken upon me.
Back to the plainsbillies. They are a friendly, outgoing bunch here. Very likable and quick to smile, especially when they are blowing past you at 140 km/hr in their jacked-up crew cab Ford truck, depleting the ozone layer behind them, beloved six pack of Pilsner twixt their legs. The thing about Saskatchewan these days is that they’re no longer the poorer sister to Alberta since they decided to exploit the massive natural resources trapped under their farmland and cattle pens. Now they’ve got money! And there are very few things more entertaining to me than a plainsbillie with money. You hear them dreaming of the possibilities of buying a “triple-wide” home, buying a brewery and getting that extra special set of truck rims for the wife for her birthday. Which, of course, she actually wants.
As I attended the Riders vs Eskimos football game here, my delicious intestine-encased tube of ground swine in hand I realized that these people deserve the trappings of wealth far more than many others I’ve met. No unused mansions, offshore accounts and ridiculous overindulgence that normally goes along with significant wealth in other parts of the world.
So I say good for you, Rider Priders. To quote an old joke – an aging farmer who won the lottery was asked what he planned to do with the 10 million dollars. “oh, probably just keep farmin’ til it’s all gone” he said.
Good for him.
He thought you might be more compelled to donate if he gave you something truly entertaining to read (rather than my redbull fueled delusions). Please don’t make a liar of him! Donate!
Pledge through the Blogathon Site
or
Directly through the SPCA Paws for a Cause donation portal.
It’s a new day!
There are only so many things going on in our room at the Hilton (those things are blogging, and TV – no funny business here!) to keep me entertained and awake.
Lucky for me, one of those things was Tanya’s fiance Barry and his story-telling!
We just got off the phone with him, after he read a couple stories from David Sedaris’ latest book “When you are Engulfed in Flames.”
Of course Sedaris’ stories are entertaining already, but Barry (if you didn’t know) is a spectacular orator and great storyteller. He’s got the kind of voice you’d expect to hear when playing an e-book. It was a great way to spend half an hour, and certainly went a long way to keeping me up at least this long!
On hotels.
I’m sitting in the Hilton Whistler with Tanya. It’s Saturday night, and I can hear people in the hallway. It’s (unsurprisingly) always loudest on Saturdays.
The noise of people in the hallway is the one thing that reminds me I’m in a hotel. I can hear fans and traffic and TV and it doesn’t phase me. But strangers tromping down the hall and talking outside the door is the thing I never hear, except in a hotel. And I’m reminded again I’m not home.
Over the past couple of years I’ve spent a lot of time in hotels. Probably twice as much time in the past couple years than my entire life up until then.
And I never used to “get it” – but now I do.
For me, people who were picky about where they stayed were crazy. How could they be unconcerned with value by paying a premium for anything other than a door that locked and a clean place to lay their head?
I was one of those people who did not travel for anything other than vacation. I was too busy to care about anything other than crashing out at night.
I did not spend days on my feet, then want nothing more than a cozy robe and slippers and a decent thing on the TV and a comfy desk chair that wouldn’t further destroy my back while I caught up on email (over a connection fast enough that I wouldn’t spend hours doing it).
I didn’t spend days or weeks away from my loved ones, and then have to try to speak to them through a crackling, uncomfortable telephone with a cord not long enough to sit comfortably while chatting.
I hadn’t grown so weary of yet another dinner by myself that room service with me and the TV seemed like a much better plan than making small-talk with yet another Wednesday night bartender.
But now, every time I hear voices in the hallway, I’m reminded of all the times I’ve spent in hotels, feeling exactly the things above.
And for all those times, I have to offer a heartfelt THANK YOU to every hotel staff member who made the effort to say a friendly “Hello” (because you were often the only person to bother that day), who remembered my name, who offered a hand with my bags or the door. The same to every hotelier who made sure those little creature comforts (the things I used to think it was stupid to pay for) are available when I’m trading in business, rather than bliss. And especially to the late-night desk staff who are so patient and accommodating when I call because I’ve forgotten my toothbrush again and need them to bring one up.
This post is totally un-sponsored, and un-influenced by anything other than my tired ramblings and the service I’ve gotten today, but the Hilton in Whistler has been an absolute pleasure to stay at. Even though this trip is mostly for pleasure, the little touches continue to go a long way. And every time I hear the voices in the hallway tonight, I also say a silent “thank you” for making me feel like home is a little less far away.
Another part of the SPCA’s work, perhaps the most important part, is the part where they deal with cruelty investigations.
It really destroys me to know that people can take out their anger and issues, and just be completely ignorant of or ambivalent toward the suffering of another living creature.
Especially having experienced the unconditional love that domestic animals offer – evolutionarily they have been served very well by aligning themselves with humans, and the unconditional love and devotion they are now conditioned to offer, which only comes with the hope that the trust they have put in us to provide for them – and knowing it is unequaled.
My parents’ dog, Bandit, was surrendered to the SPCA, but it’s pretty obvious he was abused before his former owners finally got sick of him. My parents rescued him at 2 years old, and he already walked with a limp. He’d been kicked hard enough to have broken his hip, which never healed properly. He was also terrified (consistently for the next 3 years) of men wearing baseball caps. Obviously some man in a ball-cap was awfully terrible to him.
He’s still a bit ornery, but isn’t completely terrified of people and is generally a very happy 9-year-old pup with a great life and people who love him.
As his owners surrendered him (after they brutalized and broke him), there wasn’t a cruelty investigation, or any charges laid. But it’s obvious that Bandit, like so many animals who end up at the SPCA (and so many more who aren’t lucky enough to make it that far) did not have a happy life for his first couple of years.
Please, please help to ensure the SPCA can continue this most important work, and ensure that when the unthinkable happens, they are able to stop it, and ensure those who do these things are never given the opportunity to do it again.
I’m blogging for 24 hours straight to support the BC SPCA
Pledge through the Blogathon Site
or
Directly through the SPCA Paws for a Cause donation portal.