ramanda's Diaryland Diary

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fought with kitchen knives and skewerrrrrrs

02.06.05

8:53pm

Friday night was wine and pizza and movies and sex with Dan and going to bed at 10:00pm. Not necessarily in that order.

Saturday night was a Winterlicious dinner with the girls at the top of the Westin Harbour Castle in Toronto. Even though it was foggy, we had a good view of the city as we sipped wine and talked about careers and boys and babies. The atmosphere was posh, but relaxed. The food was awesome. The company even more so.

Afterward we traipsed up Yonge Street and across the Esplanade to the Bier Markt where we got tipsy on $6 mixed drinks, made fun of the other patrons and danced to bad cover songs that (once you had a couple of the aforementioned drinks) were really not so bad. Unless you count opening with Maggie May, playing both Smooth by Santana and that I�m Not a Perfect Person song, and then coming back from a break to play that horrible song by The Darkness. They redeemed themselves by playing Word Up by Cameo and following it up with Superfreak by Rick James. And Laid. Cos a night spent with friends isn�t quite complete until you get to sing �You think you�re so preeeetty-yyyy-yyyy� in your best drunken falsetto.

This morning brought a nice walk through the melting snow, laughter over breakfast at a warm pub, hugs goodbye in the parking lot and casual conversation as Julia guided the car west across the sun-spattered 401.

{aside}

After we dropped Natalie off in Kitchener, Julia was talking about last year�s Superbowl halftime show and how this year, as a result of the backlash, the show and the commercials that air during the game are supposed to be much tamer*. We agreed that advertisting doesn�t have to be full of sex and nudity to be cutting edge, but that risqu� themes seem acceptable for commercials during football games. Especially given the target demographic. Neither of us buy into the idea that watching football is a family event. I would argue that even if it is, maybe watching a �wardrobe malfunction� with your kids is an opportunity. Maybe being with your children when they witness something like this affords you an opportunity to explain to them how such things fit in your own value system. I dare say that such a conversation is probably a valuable one. But heaven forbid children learn about sex and body image from their parents. Television, magazines and the Internet already do such a good job of this.

After Julia dropped me off I got to thinking a little bit more about what happened after the Superbowl last year. I remember the apologies from Justin and Janet. The somber faces. The bullshit excuses. This called to mind other bullshit excuses, like the ones Ashlee Simpson spouted after her lip-synching fiasco on SNL. And all of that got me to thinking about accountability.

Forget nudity and sexual innuendo. Those things have a time and a place. Maybe it�s during a Superbowl halftime show and maybe it isn�t. Either way, I don�t think there is ever a time and a place for bullshit. And yet we�re swimming in it. No questions asked. As a culture why don�t we insist that people take responsibility for their actions? What kind of example is that?

I am a big believer in accountability. I am the first one to own up to my own bullshit. And it troubles me that the rest of the western world doesn�t seem to value honesty and responsibility. I�m not perfect. I fuck up all the time. And I see nothing wrong with learning to say: Oops, I fucked up. I�m sorry. I won�t make that mistake again.

Is that too much to ask? Why are we all so fucking scared to admit when we�re wrong?

{/aside}

Go Eagles?

-A

*Sure, I was expecting something a little safer than Justin and Janet. But I didn�t expect something quite as contrived as Sir Paul McCartney. Hey Jude? All the people on the left side? Honestly now. Fuck you Paul McCartney. Fuck you right in your knighted face.

8:43 p.m. - 02.06.05

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