Title: Master. First Name: Is what. Last Name: You Will Address Me As.

I logged onto Westjet's website yesterday to book some flights for my upcoming vacation. When I reached the section where you enter your personal information, I saw they had a new title available in the drop down list:

My initial reaction was to wonder if people other than Jedi Knights actually hold the title of Master, and if it is imperative they are addressed as such while travelling?

"Would you like a beverage, sir?"

"I'm sorry, I do not respond to anyone who does not address me by my proper title of Master."

According to wikipedia, it was formerly common (in Anglophone Canada) for the English usage of master to be followed for boys, when addressing letters or in formal address, but use of the title Master has now largely ceased, outside of highly formal situations (such as for weddings and wedding invitations).

...wedding invitations??

You are cordially invited to the wedding of:

Master Sarah Johnson

and

Master Tom Henry

Their parents hope that the union of these two Masters will result in exponential growth of Masterdom for the family and will produce many Master sons and daughters, who will then procreate with other Masters creating a Master societal hierarchy in which they will be the sole Masters with the most Masterhood.

At least, that's how I'd write MY wedding invitation.

My second reaction was HEY...I could have some fun with this:

Once I had exhausted all my ideas for things I could be Master of, I started wondering what kind of a debacle the following would cause:

I imagine it would go something like this:

Westjet Rep: First name?

Me: Last Name.

WR: No, what is your FIRST name.

Me: Last Name...

WR: Fine, what is your LAST name then?

Me: First Name.

WR: I just asked you for your first name!

Me: I know. That's why I said Last Name.

WR: Look. Just tell me what your FIRST name is. The one that comes BEFORE your last name.

Me: Last name.

WR: *head explodes*

Sometimes The Most Effective Way To Express Your Feelings Is Through a Pie Chart

Last night started off as a pretty average night. I came home from work, ate, relaxed, tv'd, internetted, and completely ignored my plans to go to bed at a semi-decent time. I'd finally started to drift off around 12:30 a.m. when I was awoken by what I can only describe as the sound of someone stomping in big, wet, sloshy rainboots down my condo hallway.

I was immediately extremely confused. My brain struggled to push me into full consciousness while trying to comprehend why someone would be stomping in big, wet, sloshy rainboots down my hallway in the middle of the night.

Fully awake and slightly terrified, I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling and weighed what I had heard against logic. I decided there were only two distinct possibilities; either there was an angry fisherman standing outside my condo door, or something else happened that only SOUNDED like an angry fisherman stomped down the hall to my door. Which was more likely though?

Reasons it could be an angry fisherman:

-Was raining today...could account for sloshy rainboots

-Building security not very effective. Could totally see some pimply teenager holding the door open with one hand for murderous-looking angry fisherman while holding six pack of beer, video games and graphic novel with the other

Reasons it would NOT be an angry fisherman:

-Fishermen rare in Edmonton due to lack of large bodies of water

-Have you ever seen a picture of a fisherman who DOESN'T look happy? Like, really.

Although I carefully weighed each factor, I was still pretty torn:

My next step was to determine if this sound was worth getting out of bed to investigate.

I quickly made a mental list of pros and cons for getting up:

Pro - If angry fisherman is present and threatening situation ensues, can better utilize mad ninja skills if not lying down

Con - Must leave illusion of impenetrable fortress created by hiding under covers

Pro - By getting up, I will burn 7 of the 400 calories I intended to burn off before deciding to skip the gym today

Con - On a scale of "unlikely" to "extremely likely", the odds of me tripping on something in the dark are "definite"

Pro - Angry fisherman might be cute?

Con - If there is no evidence to back up strange sound, will have no choice but to determine sound was a result of a bad food dream forcing me to sacrifice my customary fruit-roll-up snack before bed

Pro - Maybe the lottery ticket I bought last week WAS a winner, and the sound I heard was actually people excitedly hiding so that when I walk out of my room they will jump out and yell "SURPRISE! YOU ARE A MILLIONAIRE! Here is your oversized cardboard cheque. We apologize for how difficult it will be to fit it into the bank machine's deposit slot. Would you like to pay someone to deposit it for you?"

It was upon realization that the safety of my cat could be in jeopardy (I don't know how fishermen feel about cats) that I finally decided to conduct a quick walk-around.

I stepped into the living room, turned on the light and was astonished by what I saw...

As it turns out, my cat was the angry fisherman!

Apparently the sound of big, wet, sloshy rainboots stomping down a hallway is identical to the sound your cat makes the first time she yaks all over your floor.

Important Warning Signs That You May Have Turned Into a Sloth

• You have a mini heart attack every time you hear someone walk outside the door of your condo because it could be your roommate, and you’re not quite sure if you have enough time in between hearing her keys jingle and sprinting to your bedroom in order to avoid her seeing you sitting on the couch eating freezer-burnt ice cream in nothing but your underwear


• You sit on the couch eating freezer-burnt ice cream in nothing but your underwear


• The vacuum was successfully retrieved from the closet, but the only function it now serves is to stand like a Greek statue in the middle of your living room. You dutifully walk around it as to not disturb its artistic stature.


• “Hey, this blog I found is so totally awesome, like I mean, wow, it’s so incredibly funny and I could read it forever and then I could read it some more and OH GOOD GAWD how has four hours past already?!”


• The only reasons you have removed yourself from the crater your ass has created in the couch is for washroom breaks and to heat up a microwave dinner.


• You feel physically incapable of turning off the tv even though you have a splitting headache from watching too much of it and it’s long past the point that anything remotely decent or entertaining would be on.

  Pretty soon you’re stuck flipping between a rerun of Hell’s Kitchen (you know, the one where Chef Ramsey loses his sh*t and shuts down dinner service) and one of the Matrix sequels where Morpheous struts around in sunglasses that are supposedly so cool they don’t even need arms.

• “I seem to have spilt some juice on the counter. I should probably clean that up. Yup. Probably should.”


• The garbage and recycling are so very full but you insist on stuffing them down some more because damn it, you’re not taking both those bags out simply because some empty milk carton has the arrogance to take up so much space.

If you identify with any of these telling signs but are still unsure if you are a sloth, it won’t hurt to take immediate corrective action just in case:

• Peel yourself off the couch and go outside for a run.
  

  If this task seems too daunting or pushes you too far out of your sloth comfort zone, at least pull yourself onto the elliptical beside your couch that has rapidly been collecting dust since you discovered one side squeaks like a squirrel that swallowed a chew toy, subsequently causing you to pull multiple muscles because you think by shifting your weight around you can trick the elliptical into not making said squeaky noise.
  

  Use earplugs to circumvent the squeaks.
  

  For motivation while you are exercising, put up some red tape between two walls or objects in front of your elliptical. This will create the illusion that you are in a race and very very close to the finish line. (For added effect, play theme song from Chariots of Fire in the background.)
  

  Once you have completed your allotted amount of exercise time, feel free to run through the red tape chest first with your arms flailing gloriously in the air. Jump up and down in slow motion. Avoid any nearby furniture. (Important note: Unfortunately, simply thinking about exercising does not burn any calories.)

• Call a friend to come over at a specified time. Choose someone you know well enough to invite over but not well enough that you wouldn’t care if they came in and saw you living like a sloth. You now have a deadline to tidy up, vacuum, do laundry, shower and make yourself look like you weren’t rescued from a bayou and raised by a pack of mangy wolves who cared little for personal hygiene.


• Trick yourself into thinking that you are the Terminator, but instead of fighting evil robots from the future, your mission is to destroy dirt and uncleanliness in all its forms. Schwarzenegger accent and catch phrases should be used sparingly.

Warning – prolonged slothen activity could be hazardous to your health. If you have been suffering from intense symptoms that have lasted for more than seven days, please consult your physician, therapist, life coach, and contact a junk removal service to remove the stack of pizza boxes that is threatening to fall over and bury your cat alive.

Conversation Medley: Spock, Euchre and Cat Tails

Via msn:

Me: My friend met Spock about a month ago.

Brian: When he was in Vulcan?

Me: Yeah, and Calgary.

Brian: He must get very tired of still being Spock...

Me: If I were him, I think I would be having an identity crisis for the past 50 years.

Brian: I think I would be tempted to get up at the podium...stare out at all the people dressed in Trek clothes...and tell them to move on.
________________________

While playing euchre:

My euchre partner: Why is it that you only win when I’m not your partner?!

Me: …because you’re not my partner…?
________________________

While I draw a picture of my co-worker's cat on her white board, she tells me a story about meeting her ex for coffee:

“So yeah, he walked in and…he has a long black tail with a white tip.”

I stop drawing and turn to her…

“…what? Wow, what kind of kinky guys do you date!?”

Spelling & Grammar Pet Peeves

I was talking with a friend today about spelling and grammar pet peeves. While I in no way claim to be the all knowing authoritative source for spelling and grammar, and do (on rare occasions, ahem) make errors myself, I cannot help but be bothered by some very common spelling and grammar mistakes. I've also discovered a definitive correlation between the type of error and my level of annoyance. If I were to chart it, it would go something like this:

C Level Errors

Annoyance Level: Mild

Annoyance Indications: furrowing of one or both eyebrows, narrowing of eyes

• then/than
• to/too
• its/it's
• effect/affect
• whose/who's
• double spaces between words

B Level Errors

Annoyance Level: Medium

Annoyance Indications: Unsuccessful suppression of eye twitches, low grunts of disapproval

• you're/your
• there/their/they're
• desert/dessert
• where/wear
• were/we're

A Level Errors

Annoyance Level: High

Annoyance Indications: Yeti-like noises and mannerisms

• using three commas instead of ellipses (,,,/...)
• apostrophes in the wrong place, such as turning "doesn't" into "does'nt". (Saw this error on a shirt in Bluenotes one day. True story.)
• spelling the word "definitely" incorrectly such as; definately, deffinatly, definatly, and ESPECIALLY defiantly, which makes it a different word all together

One of my co-workers perpetually writes "defiantly" instead of "definitely", and I've been trying for months to find a gentle way of saying AHHH STOP WRITING 'DEFIANTLY' WHEN YOU MEAN 'DEFINITELY' BECAUSE EVERY TIME YOU DO A SMALL PIECE OF ME DIES! Just remember; every time you write "defiantly" instead of "definitely", the terrorists have won.

My friend did mention that one of the only times it pleases him to see things spelt incorrectly is in a tattoo, and he sent me a link to this picture, which really just made my day:

I'm actually not incredibly surprised that someone who would want "I'm Awesome" tattooed on their back would spell it incorrectly.

Google (The Wise & Powerful)

I was in the middle of doing laundry tonight when I noticed one of my white shirts - despite having been bleached repeatedly - was still not looking quite as white as I would like it to. Being the resourceful perfectionist that I am, I immediately consulted the all-knowing Google.

Oh wise and powerful Google, the 2000's version of www.askjeeves.com, the modern-day magic 8 ball of all knowledge replacing vague, obtuse answers such as "ask again later" or "outlook not so good" with millions of answers of every colour, shape and size conveniently categorized into "results". But you are not only a provider of knowledge, oh no...you also add joy to already joyous holidays by presenting a lovely custom Google graphic logo. I always know when it's Halloween because when I google something on October 31st, I see the letter G is lookin' mighty smug in its witches hat, and those two little o's are lookin' mighty uncomfortable stewing in that cauldron. Although, I must say, even on an average day, just seeing those primary colours (plus that sneaky non-primary-coloured green 'l') softly dance around the curves of the Google letters makes me feel happy. I think because those colours subconsciously remind me of crayons. And, really, who doesn't like the thought of crayons?

So laundry...right. I log on to google (the wise and powerful), type the first three words of "how to get your shirts their whitest" and see google (the wise and powerful) - like an over-zealous student that sits at the front of the class and yips "OOOHHH OHHH! PICK ME, I KNOW, I KNOW!" while nearly falling out of his chair from pushing his hand so far in the air in an effort to answer the question before the teacher has even finished asking it - present me with its top ten guesses for what I am hoping to learn how to get. Here is the list:

Let's take a moment to examine the top ten things that people have googled "how to get".

• "How to get rid of fruit flies" is second ONLY to "How to get pregnant". We hate them so much that as soon as we conquer that challenging and highly emotional conception problem, the most prominent issue in our minds is dealing with those damn fruit flies.
• 50% of the listed items are cosmetic.
• People desperately want to know how to get a guy to like them, but not as desperately as wanting to know how to get a girl to like them.
• 'Bed bugs', despite being used for ages as a seemingly cute bedtime rhyme for children ("Goodnight...sleep tight...don't let the bed bugs bite...") actually DO exist, and, coming in at number 8, are much more prevalent than we might have thought. (Although, not as prevalent as fruit flies.)

On a google (the wise and powerful) sub-topic, have you ever googled yourself? I just did. Just now. Just for funsies. Check it out:

1,210,000 results! Google (the wise and powerful) loves me THAT much. I knew the feeling was mutual.