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Showing posts from October, 2005

Searching for Flitsee Flinger

I started Tuesday's blog posts as a journey... a journey to understand the role of blogging women in bloggywood. Their hopes. Their dreams. The challenges they face. My journey begins and ends with Flitsee Flinger: an award-winning blogger who seemed to be on top of the world, who had the love and adoration of thousands, but who--for very personal reasons--quite simply vanished from blog life. I was, quite literally, Searching for Flitsee Flinger .

Mitzzee Muzzled Mee

Since I can't undo a whole morning of cbox posts and miscellaneous comments on every blog that I can remember being linked to Ooh La La , I'll provide this update instead: Mitzzee appreciates all of the lurve (although you'd never know it from some of her comments on the previous post), but the poor dear just needs a break. Like Sarah Jessica Parker killing Sex and the City in its prime, or Naomi Judd leaving The Judds , she decided to exit while the exitin' was good. (I'm secretly hoping that her "retirement" is more akin to Celine Dion's... i.e., often-promised but never actually delivered.) For more information, please visit the homepage for Exhausted Bloggers of North America . The family (myself, Jason , Bruce , Shora , Carmine ) asks that in lieu of flowers (or pleading e-mails), comments and good wishes be left here rather than sent directly to Mitzzee. (I really can't stress that point enough. She'll cut me.) p.s. - I would like

Mitzzee, we mitzz you so much...

Post a comment on this entry if you'd like Mitzzee to rejoin the fold and bring back her blog, Ooh La La . I'm going through freakin' withdrawal here. Come back to the five and dime, Mitzzee Dean, Mitzzee Dean...

I'm not the only one...

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...who wonders why The Tea Party had the career and exposure it did in Canada, or who isn't lamenting their breakup. This Canadian band wouldn't have been lame if it had just billed itself what it was: a tribute band to The Doors . Who does Jeff Martin think he was kidding? This was from an online poll yesterday. NB - I am not a completely merciless critic of Canadian music--despite my post from Friday, October 7, 2005 . I'm just not afraid to voice my opinion of which Canadian acts, sheltered by CanCon regulations , suck ass.

it's time for some more Shirley

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and I thought Brokeback Mountain was going to destroy me

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Jason , Paul, and I saw C.R.A.Z.Y. lastnight. It is a really good film... it has already won a prize at the Toronto International Film Festival, and will probably take best foreign language film at the Oscars. I'm even going to take liberties with copyright law and post the movie poster, because I really want people to see this movie. This is the best Canadian film I've ever seen. Director Jean-Marc Vallée has created something so true to the identity and sometimes tortured experience of a young homosexual that it's almost hard to believe he's not gay himself. I left this movie in such a state of catharsis that it took me a good 10 minutes to pull myself together. ( Jason and Paul, I'm sorry I was such a mess.)

this is so west coast

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My friend Paul, currently visiting me from SF, brought me this poster that was apparently all over the Castro during Folsom . It appears to not be associated with any particular organization or support group... I'm guessing that someone made it him/herself and decided to paste it on light standards. I love points #8 and #10. And I love the little cub on the right. WROWR! (Alright, alright. Confession: madamerouge secretly envies the progressiveness of the west coast; having lived in Seattle and spent time in Vancouver and San Francisco. But from time to time, things like this poster just strike madamerouge as so granola as not to be believed .)

this other redhead said it best

click here to listen

Freudian slip (a.k.a. too much Thanksgiving dinner)

Thanksgiving on the shore of Lake Huron. Dinner is finished. I'm trying to recall the name of a math teacher I had in high school. The teacher (who was excellent) was somewhat overweight in those days, so I described him as "rotund." My brother starts laughing loudly. When I ask him what is so funny, he tells me, "you pointed at yourself when you said rotund! "

Bed-o-win Sound-torture

I don't know about y'all, but if I hear "When the Night Feels My Song" by Bedouin Soundclash one more time , I'm going to lose it. Seriously, I want Coca-Cola bottles to fall from the sky (a la The Gods Must be Crazy ) and hit them all on the head. Other songs that drive me meshugena: anything by Maroon 5 "Pon de Replay" by Rihanna "Bad Day" by Daniel Powter anything by Simple Plan, Amanda Marshall, Nickelback/Chad Kroeger, or other lame Canadian acts that wouldn't be "acts" without Canadian content regulations

the etymology of "madamerouge"

January, 2001. Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico. The San Marino Hotel . A rainy day. Jason , myself, and our other friends spend the day downing Pacifico and blender drinks. Dinner is consumed on the beachside patio of the hotel. A beach vendor walks by and asks us all our names. Jason does the honours. "I'm bitch , that's miss thing , that's whore , and that's (pointing to me) madame rouge ." We all laugh. (I had been faithfully applying my spf 30, but I think I was a bit red at that point of the trip.) Half an hour later, the vendor returns with a painted seashell bearing the name madame rouge . Uproarious laughter ensues; Jason peels out some money and buys me the shell from the vendor. It is still proudly displayed on a bookshelf in my apartment.

smog in October

Omigawd, Toronto is like, so international . Year-round smog, just like Athens, Los Angeles, or Beijing. It's interesting to observe the enthusiasm of tv & radio weather reports. "Yes, we have a smog advisory in effect, but with the humidex, the temperature will feel just like summer! " This speaks to the desperation of Canadians for warm temperatures. It has to. I theorize that no one actually enjoys humidity. It's the psychological effect of having the "temperature" pushed up 5 or 10 C that these people like. Perception vs. reality. It's like Dubya extending Daylight Savings Time to "save energy." Or jamming the ruler into the flesh above the base of the...

Cameron Diaz and I are different

On a local Toronto station over the weekend, I caught part of an interview with Cameron Diaz. She was talking about self esteem, and how her parents probably gave her too much of it. I agree with her. I dare you to watch The Sweetest Thing and tell me with a straight face that there's zero per cent of Cameron Diaz in her hubristic character. (God, that movie frightened me. And reaffirmed my sexuality at the same time.) I have too little self esteem. In this respect, Cameron Diaz and I are different.

shame spiral

I don't know whether it's what I ate this weekend (a bag of Doritos, an entire BP pizza, a half bucket of Fudgsicle ice cream, a box of Kraft Dinner), or my sleeping habits (up all night Friday, sleeping all day Saturday and Sunday), or my Friday get-together with someone I know is bad news (nearly incoherent on t...), or the picture of the ny state sheriff on the front page of a couple of local dailies today, but I am a complete mess.