merripaul
Merrianne Couture
Fincher's Tattoo Girl: Original's vaporous tattoo ink turns into a full blown oil patch in the opening sequence. #biggerbudgetlesspunkeffect
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Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Punctuation By Any Other Name
Dear Apostrophe,
I'm writin' to you 'cos you've been so abused lately. I thought you might like some company. Seems that folks don't get you. I feel for you because I've always been a bit of a weirdo myself. Mainly, I'm weird because of wanting to talk with punctuation marks, when the appropriate behaviour might be to talk about punctuation. Which I do. A lot. Maybe excessively. Anyway. You must feel terrible about how you've been misused.Or maybe you don't. I hope that's not out of desperation. I know that I would if I were you. And, don't get me wrong, I'll be writing to Ms. Subjunctive some day too, but not today. Just the other week, I spent more than ten minutes in my class detailing one error that I must've seen at least 200 times this term alone. And, oddly it requires an extra bit of typing on the keyboard to make. Oh yes. You're probably used to hearing all about the it's vs its usage issues, and I certainly hear you on that. It's still happening. There's a new twist, though, and it's all about possessive and plural and third person singular.
I know. I know. It's like listening to a one-sided conversation. Isn't it?
Well, I tell you honestly here. If I see one more verb conjugated with an apostrophe, I might have to undertake some additional letter writing. And I do mean individual, actual, real alphabetical letters, and not what I'm writing to you today. When I see something like, "Kate Chopin show's the reader's that M'rs. Mallard died of the "monstrous joy", I seriously want to kill myself. Wouldn't you? You're being murdered anyway, aren't you? What's the difference?
It's not like I would say to any of my students, "Hey back in the day, we wrote out the word apostrophe three thousand times until we knew how to spell it and now you guys can't even use your baby finger to reach over to the far right of the QWERTY board." No. I don't blame. Do not blame. No. I am curious, though. I was correcting papers before cell phones were widely used and I still encountered rampant it's/its errors, though fewer of the say's and character's (as plural) types of mistakes.
I do know that I don't use the apostrophe when I text on my own phone. This is not being radical. It has to do with the fact that my cell phone is very stupid and to get an apostrophe, I have to switch the keyboard configuration and then press one button three times to get the symbol. I use an asterisk instead. So, while I am writing to you in a compassionate spirit here, I am also guilty of some pretty serious apostrophe abuse myself.
It is true that the plural, possessive and third person singular get all mixed up in the apostrophe wars of student writing. There is another aspect to this battle, I'm afraid. Remember when poetry used to matter? Or should I say, remember when a line of poetry had a particular number of beats that contributed to some larger frame? Sometimes these beats would be collaps'd with a little apostrophe -- it's a contraction, but on words that might not be shorten'd in this way today. This buggers most students who then claim that all poetry is a foreign language. Blaming the poetry. Imagine. I suppose this is better than blaming your mother, which I had two students do this week regarding two separate instances of cheating. That is another story.
In the family of punctuation, apostrophe, who are your parents? The semi-colon is more misunderstood, I believe, but less difficult to correct. I must say, though, that I have received the semi-colon instead of the apostrophe on a number of occasions. And certainly, while texting, I've used a comma instead of an apostrophe because as I've mentioned, my phone is stupid. Is the apostrophe like a beaten up colon, winking at it's [sic] enemy. Is there any irony in the misuse of an apostrophe? I sometimes wonder as I've encountered one too many compositions articulating the universal desire to "live life to it's fullest." Does Eminem have anything to do with this? Ladytron? Lady Gaga?
So, yes. I find myself writing to you dear, abandoned, over and under-used and abused apostrophe. There is another use to you that I'd like to acknowledge while we're at it, oh once mighty apostrophe. I am addressing you and I wish you were human because then there might be a facebook group that could save you or prevent further damage. Oh apostrophe, I am sorry. Forgive them (and me).
(This text was originally written for 750 words)
I'm writin' to you 'cos you've been so abused lately. I thought you might like some company. Seems that folks don't get you. I feel for you because I've always been a bit of a weirdo myself. Mainly, I'm weird because of wanting to talk with punctuation marks, when the appropriate behaviour might be to talk about punctuation. Which I do. A lot. Maybe excessively. Anyway. You must feel terrible about how you've been misused.Or maybe you don't. I hope that's not out of desperation. I know that I would if I were you. And, don't get me wrong, I'll be writing to Ms. Subjunctive some day too, but not today. Just the other week, I spent more than ten minutes in my class detailing one error that I must've seen at least 200 times this term alone. And, oddly it requires an extra bit of typing on the keyboard to make. Oh yes. You're probably used to hearing all about the it's vs its usage issues, and I certainly hear you on that. It's still happening. There's a new twist, though, and it's all about possessive and plural and third person singular.
I know. I know. It's like listening to a one-sided conversation. Isn't it?
Well, I tell you honestly here. If I see one more verb conjugated with an apostrophe, I might have to undertake some additional letter writing. And I do mean individual, actual, real alphabetical letters, and not what I'm writing to you today. When I see something like, "Kate Chopin show's the reader's that M'rs. Mallard died of the "monstrous joy", I seriously want to kill myself. Wouldn't you? You're being murdered anyway, aren't you? What's the difference?
It's not like I would say to any of my students, "Hey back in the day, we wrote out the word apostrophe three thousand times until we knew how to spell it and now you guys can't even use your baby finger to reach over to the far right of the QWERTY board." No. I don't blame. Do not blame. No. I am curious, though. I was correcting papers before cell phones were widely used and I still encountered rampant it's/its errors, though fewer of the say's and character's (as plural) types of mistakes.
I do know that I don't use the apostrophe when I text on my own phone. This is not being radical. It has to do with the fact that my cell phone is very stupid and to get an apostrophe, I have to switch the keyboard configuration and then press one button three times to get the symbol. I use an asterisk instead. So, while I am writing to you in a compassionate spirit here, I am also guilty of some pretty serious apostrophe abuse myself.
It is true that the plural, possessive and third person singular get all mixed up in the apostrophe wars of student writing. There is another aspect to this battle, I'm afraid. Remember when poetry used to matter? Or should I say, remember when a line of poetry had a particular number of beats that contributed to some larger frame? Sometimes these beats would be collaps'd with a little apostrophe -- it's a contraction, but on words that might not be shorten'd in this way today. This buggers most students who then claim that all poetry is a foreign language. Blaming the poetry. Imagine. I suppose this is better than blaming your mother, which I had two students do this week regarding two separate instances of cheating. That is another story.
In the family of punctuation, apostrophe, who are your parents? The semi-colon is more misunderstood, I believe, but less difficult to correct. I must say, though, that I have received the semi-colon instead of the apostrophe on a number of occasions. And certainly, while texting, I've used a comma instead of an apostrophe because as I've mentioned, my phone is stupid. Is the apostrophe like a beaten up colon, winking at it's [sic] enemy. Is there any irony in the misuse of an apostrophe? I sometimes wonder as I've encountered one too many compositions articulating the universal desire to "live life to it's fullest." Does Eminem have anything to do with this? Ladytron? Lady Gaga?
So, yes. I find myself writing to you dear, abandoned, over and under-used and abused apostrophe. There is another use to you that I'd like to acknowledge while we're at it, oh once mighty apostrophe. I am addressing you and I wish you were human because then there might be a facebook group that could save you or prevent further damage. Oh apostrophe, I am sorry. Forgive them (and me).
(This text was originally written for 750 words)
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Thanksgiving
Conversation with the Immigration Officer @ Montreal Airport:
Officer: Where are you going?
Me: to New York City for the weekend.
Officer: And, what will you be doing there?
Me: I am just going to visit. I'm meeting my husband there.
Officer: Oh. Are you feeling optimistic?
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Thursday, October 6, 2011
Origins
Which came first?
Corner of Hutchison and Bernard: Montreal
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Corner of Hutchison and Bernard: Montreal
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Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Laneway Wisdom
A recent skype chat with one of my closest friends, an accomplished, charming and very funny individual went something like this:Me: I want to try busting some cliché expressions by taking one a day and making it literal -- that would be a fun blog activity, I think. Gotta document everything because I have no children.
My Friend: ha. I have to eat more because I have no children [...] I have to sleep in more because I have no children.
Me: I have to eat more carbs because I have no children.
My Friend: me too. I love carbs.
Me: My favourite.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Tiger Walk
On the return from spending $200 on condiments, I followed this lead.
Park Avenue Montreal:
Moving has occasionally inspiring moments.
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Park Avenue Montreal:
Moving has occasionally inspiring moments.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iTouch.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Colonel Friday
Salesperson: Is there anything else I can get for you today?
Me: Well. If you can make my ass smaller, I'd take that.
Main Street, Vancouver. Summer 2011
Photo by Sue Pearson.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Urban Wonder
Not a word of a lie... I and my good friend Renata walked into these folks on Main Street at 22nd in the middle of a Friday afternoon. Vancouver is wonderful that way.
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iTouch.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Labyrinth
Yesterday, a man dressed as Wonder Woman got on the 22 MacDonald bus. He attracted a lot of attention, of course. A woman sitting next to me went up to the man and asked, "Are you Wonder Woman?" He responded, "Yes."
She said, "Me too."
You can't make this stuff up.
Spanish Banks: Vancouver
Visit: walkingalabyrinth.blogspot.com
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She said, "Me too."
You can't make this stuff up.
Spanish Banks: Vancouver
Visit: walkingalabyrinth.blogspot.com
- Posted using BlogPress from my iTouch.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Slow Running
I do very little original writing here (or elsewhere come to think of it) as the ethos of the blog is that the text has to have appeared in some form already (email, skype, chat, whatever). Also, I do not generally write about my hobbies or even acknowledge I have them.
But.
As I ran for several hours this past weekend at the Seattle Rock n Roll Marathon, I realized I had a couple of things to say. First, I do not consider myself a runner. My life is lived in a general state of irony and so this truth may not seem obvious. I don't really care about that. I also have as big a hate on for corporations as is possible, and had already decided that I would hold my nose and do this hugely corporate half marathon because I love Seattle, Washington.
I have run at least 12 half marathons in the last two years, punctuated by the occasional 8k or 10k race; this was the first overtly corporate (Dodge being the lead sponsor). Yet, when I admitted to the City Hostel Seattle person who called a taxi for us at 5:00 race morning that "if I can do it, anyone can," I wasn't just talking about fitness. I don't have an attitude that's going to make anyone any money. I, my beautiful husband and 25,998 other runners got up that day hours before sunrise to get to the start on time. I wonder how many of the other runners had smoked for 30 years. The race is filled with stories and, as it turned out, the rock n roll people know how to tell them.
Two and a half hours later, my bloodied toes and blistered feet do their best to cross the finish with dignity. The race felt like a fiction in parts, with rising action, emotional attachments and several epiphanies. I openly wept for the young woman running in front of me because the back of her T-shirt said "1960-2010. I'm running for you, Mom." Broke my heart. I lost count of the ribbons and pictures and pins and buttons that appeared on the garments of many other runners. I have run with similar ribbons.
This race was different. For instance, I did not know until hours after the race that there is a runner's group of widows of fallen American soldiers: a tribute for these soldiers lined the route's right side, along Mile 7. Usually, this is the point in a race when I lose sense of my surroundings. Here, I could barely cast my eyes over to the many runners who tapped each of two dozen posters of these soldiers. I've never experienced anything like this while running.
My next race is the Acura Ten Miler in Toronto. It's unlikely that I'll call myself a runner there either.
But.
As I ran for several hours this past weekend at the Seattle Rock n Roll Marathon, I realized I had a couple of things to say. First, I do not consider myself a runner. My life is lived in a general state of irony and so this truth may not seem obvious. I don't really care about that. I also have as big a hate on for corporations as is possible, and had already decided that I would hold my nose and do this hugely corporate half marathon because I love Seattle, Washington.
I have run at least 12 half marathons in the last two years, punctuated by the occasional 8k or 10k race; this was the first overtly corporate (Dodge being the lead sponsor). Yet, when I admitted to the City Hostel Seattle person who called a taxi for us at 5:00 race morning that "if I can do it, anyone can," I wasn't just talking about fitness. I don't have an attitude that's going to make anyone any money. I, my beautiful husband and 25,998 other runners got up that day hours before sunrise to get to the start on time. I wonder how many of the other runners had smoked for 30 years. The race is filled with stories and, as it turned out, the rock n roll people know how to tell them.
Two and a half hours later, my bloodied toes and blistered feet do their best to cross the finish with dignity. The race felt like a fiction in parts, with rising action, emotional attachments and several epiphanies. I openly wept for the young woman running in front of me because the back of her T-shirt said "1960-2010. I'm running for you, Mom." Broke my heart. I lost count of the ribbons and pictures and pins and buttons that appeared on the garments of many other runners. I have run with similar ribbons.
This race was different. For instance, I did not know until hours after the race that there is a runner's group of widows of fallen American soldiers: a tribute for these soldiers lined the route's right side, along Mile 7. Usually, this is the point in a race when I lose sense of my surroundings. Here, I could barely cast my eyes over to the many runners who tapped each of two dozen posters of these soldiers. I've never experienced anything like this while running.
My next race is the Acura Ten Miler in Toronto. It's unlikely that I'll call myself a runner there either.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Judge Not
This is an email exchange between me and my husband a few hours ago. Read between the lines a little (just a tiny bit) to follow the event.
Husband: I have to order a cup cake cake for Friday...we are having a client appreciation day.
Me: Cup cake CAKE -- I can't even believe it -- Nice! I could meet you there and we could have spaghetti and wine. What do you think?
Also, I was thinking about getting the airplane crew some chocolates...
This poor Asian man who worked for another airline with the word China in it ... was the first to notice that my flight had already left. And the F word actually emitted itself from my mouth. He must have thought I was utterly vulgar.
*mercifully...missed flight rebooked with no additional charges. There aren't enough exclamation marks to illustrate how dumb I felt.
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Friday, May 20, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Speed Lapse
Precocious followed by late bloomer followed by ironic followed by getting...
No one I have ever voted for in any kind of election has won.
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No one I have ever voted for in any kind of election has won.
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Thursday, May 5, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Almost Goodbye
Vancouver owns spring all winter long.
Game 7 notwithstanding...
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Game 7 notwithstanding...
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Thursday, April 14, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
...in the literal lane.
I'm getting big bowls of this served up left, right and centre.
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Saturday, March 12, 2011
In Your Neighborhood
On our way to coffee this morning, we saw this :
And this:
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And this:
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Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
For the Better: Gamble on Gehry
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Bridal Hair
Me: first one is too big and too$$. I like the second one, though it's a bit Medusa and pricey...I really need to go to some store and try all of this stuff on my head.
Sarah: this is pretty: garden-party-set-of-clips. Something like this is really cool: stanza-bridal-hair-clip
Me: Yes. I like that -- why don't you make it for me and send it to me. I'd rather it be by you.
No to the bridal clip. It even sounds S and M. The vintage roses hairpin thing is nice.
Sarah: the garden party clips?
Me: What colours? I like a blue in there for popping effect...I almost wrote pooping.
On the other hand, the wedding was organized in 30 minutes.
Viva Las Vegas!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Slogan Art
Mount Pleasant Shop Window
The best is often for less.
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The best is often for less.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iTouch.
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