- Fade in on six year old D, wide eyed in the optometrist’s chair –

“You mean I get to wear glasses? Cool! Just like a movie star!”

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For some strange reason, my six year old self thought it would be quite a treat to have to wear glasses every moment of my seeing life. I can clearly remember playing with a pair of red plastic sunglasses before I got my real ones. I would pop out the tinted lens, stand on the chest in the living room and look into the mirror wondering who that handsome, intelligent looking, debonair six year-old was.

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- Skip twenty years to the future –

“You mean I can just shell out some cash and be rid of my cumbersome glasses for the better part of my active adult life? Cool! Just like a movie star!”

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And so, in a few hours, I will be sitting underneath a laser with my eyes pried open “A Clockwork Orange” style (without the benefit of slooshying any of that lovely Ludwig Van) waiting for that bright light to turn off so I can curl up into a little ball of light sensitivity and listen to books on tape for the rest of the week.

I am one of those people who abhor anything touching their eyes. When I tried to wear contacts (a failure due to the annoying dryness) I had to visit the eye doctor to take them out until I got the hang of it. But the mere notion that I will not be encumbered by these wire frames anymore is enough for me to quickly get over my silly fear. After all, your eyes are just a body part, like your hand, your nipple, or your teeth. And these people know what they are doing (I hope…).

So, I bid you adieu, blogosphere, until I emerge from my apartment, remove the cocoon of blankets keeping that annoying sunlight out, spread my eyes, and see everything (periphery and all) for the first time in twenty years.

Wish me luck.

D.

Posted by D. at Monday, May 29, 2006 | Permalink | Comments

One of the benefits of living in the “Centertown” area of Ottawa is that you get to witness the very strange behaviour from the unique demographic in the area. The housing ranges from huge old houses occupied by new families of public servants, huge old houses transformed into three or four unit apartments for young professionals, huge decrepit old houses transformed into three or four student apartments, and over-crowded row-houses. All these people are attracted to the proximity to three Royal Oaks, dozens of Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, and Indian restaurants, two high schools, a half dozen elementary schools, dog parks, bus routes, and lots of trees. While living in this little neighbourhood, I’ve been witness to many strange sights. There is the guy who rides his bike all day blowing a whistle, the random domestic screaming matches, people carrying furniture on their heads, and the crack park that lies a block away.

Lately, however, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend. I hope, for the sake of felines everywhere that these are just isolated incidents and that the behaviour will not be disseminated further. I have a message for the perpetrators of this behaviour: “Cats are not dogs, no matter how hard you believe!”

It all started on evening whilst K and I were enjoying our front stoop. We spotted a young lady walking her cat. WALKING HER CAT. Who the hell walks a cat? Moreover, how exactly do you walk a cat? And why? What purpose does walking a cat serve other than to inspire the anger of this blogger. Are you trying to get your cat to exercise more, loose weight, and live longer? Trust me, a cat will sooner die of embarrassment from being harnessed to a four foot rope than it will from being overweight. Unlike dogs, cats aren’t interested in getting their fifteen minutes of daily exercise, and they are even less interested in walking down a sidewalk along side you. If your are adamant that your cat needs the type of exercise and inter-feline social relations that can only be found outside of your apartment, then get it some shots and set it free.

Then, as I was walking to work one morning a few days later, I saw a different cat on a leash tied to a front porch. I now walk past that cat every morning, sitting on the front step on a short leash. What is a cat going to do on a leash? It can’t chase birds or bugs, it can’t hang with other cats and yowl at the moon. It can be the laughing stock of the other neighbourhood cats who stray-cat strut by and tease it from just outside the leash’s range. All the cat can do is the same thing it does inside; look around and lament that it isn’t able to run free.

I am a recent pet owner. We acquired a pair of cats a year ago. They are K’s first pet, and my first since my hamster, Hammy, died when I was ten. Gibson and Kishka are strictly indoor cats mainly because they have no way of getting in and out of our apartment, but they’ve tried. We live with two little Houdinis, always braced and ready to escape. They made it onto our third floor balcony a few times, but we were too afraid that they would jump after a fly and hurt themselves to allow them free reign out there.

As such, they are big sissies and would not survive ten minutes in the real world. But they don’t know that. Kishka likes to growl at the pigeons on the ledge outside our window, but I think the pigeons would get the best of her if it the confrontation ever escalated. If Gibson ever escaped, he would just lounge on the front lawn somewhere.

In the end, I’m no cat expert. If you want to take your cat for a walk, then go ahead. Be my guest. As far as I’m concerned, this is how cats should live:





D.

post script: Thanks to K and her blog for the readily accessible photos of our muffins.

Posted by D. at Friday, May 19, 2006 | Permalink | Comments

The one year anniversary of starting my full time job was last April 11th, and just to illustrate how quickly it passed me by, I almost forgot to blog about it! I did enjoy a quiet moment of reflection about the past year, however, but I feel oddly compelled to write a little bit about it as well.

It’s impossible for me to write an “Oh! Woe is me!” post about work for reasons I’ve gone into before. It is also impossible for me to go into all sorts of detail about the insane people who work with me (who I love, all of them – none of whom actually read this!) simply because I need to get away from work when I’m here. Incidentally, I do recognise the subtle humour in writing a “yay for work” post while I am slacking off at work, but what can you do when you are a slave to inspiration!

So, I suppose my only recourse would be to yammer with gentle and fluffy non-specifics and platitudes.

The first lesson that really stuck with me was how differently you are treated and approached when you are wearing a suit. I always had a general goal of one day wearing expensive suits every day to work. I had no idea what kind of job I would want that would fulfil that goal, nor did I realise how ridiculously expensive suits are. My first big boss (not my immediate boss, but the head honcho) always berated me whenever I wouldn’t wear a tie to work, especially if we were in a meeting. And it wasn’t always in the jolly co-worker sense.
Hugo the Boss at weekly meeting – Welcome everyone, D as well. It’s a shame your tie couldn’t make it
Staffers – forced chuckling
Me, under my breath - Freaking Sun King and his deplorable fashion sense. What the hell is a tie anyway? Stupid fashion norms and codes. Damned society.

This is the reaction that bubbled up in me. Unfortunately, the reality is a bit different. Do you remember that commercial with the guy in a hotel room on a business trip where he’s saying “goodnight” to all of those random typical office types that are hanging out? During this period of my employment, which only lasted the first four months or so, I always thought of myself as the kid he says goodnight to…

“Goodnight new guy, uh Jason, Jarred…”
“It-It’s Jason.”

Yeah. That was me. A poor young naïve new employee swimming is a sea of seasoned veterans. Luckily, my immediate boss had my back and turned me from that nervous new guy to the dynamic, multitasked that I’ve become (thanks AL and JL!). But the lesson wasn’t lost on me. To this day, I still wear a tie occasionally, even though I don’t need to. It’s all about dressing for the job you want, and not the job you have.

The second lesson that I learned is that a great boss is essential. It’s not enough just to have a nice boss, but you need one who will be a teacher, a mentor, a friend, a listener, and a stickler. My first boss (not the big boss, but my immediate boss) was a great boss, despite how demanding she could be. I worked my ass off for her, but she taught me a lot in return.

My current boss is a genuinely nice guy, also a great teacher and a little less demanding. This is the perfect second boss to have because I need to fend for myself and keep myself busy most of the time. He put me in control of my “professional development” so my future is in my hands. I’m trying to make the most of it.

So my one year at work has been eventful. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, but I have yet to hurl. Let’s hope the next 34 are just as entertaining (oh god).

D.

Posted by D. at Thursday, May 18, 2006 | Permalink | Comments

As I mentioned a couple of times in recent entries, K and I have found a new set of bricks, drywall, and wiring to call home. Although we only moved four blocks west and half a block north, I like to say that we’ve actually moved up. The new place is bright, clean, and secure, has tonnes of character, a sunroom, tiled bathroom floors, and is apparently situated in a black hole.

I had a roommate once, long ago when I lived in the other end of the city, named the White Lightning. He fought crime at night. Sadly, we’ve lost touch over the years. He used to amuse himself while we would watch TV by quietly whispering from across our living room “nobody loves you…” He was trying to subliminally destroy my self-esteem and self-worth. I think he did it because I was ahead one series of best-of-seven series to none in our ongoing living-room sock-hockey tourney. Anyway, in this black hole that is our new apartment, I am feeling less than loved by the various people who are being paid for various services that K and I expect. Here’s the list:

1 – Rogers
Never in my life have I had to deal with so much incompetence on a telephone. And to make matters worse, said telephone was on payphone because of said incompetence. Rogers was supposed to come and install our cable, phone, and internet on the day after our move. I took that day off work to unpack, rest a bit, and get all the Rogers related business taken care of. On a whim, I decided to stop at a payphone on the morning in question to confirm the appointment, only to find that they had no record of it.
Rogers Tool - We’ll call you when an appointment opens up.
Distraught New Apartment Dweller - But I don’t have a phone.
Rogers Tool - You don’t have a phone?
Distraught New Apartment Dweller - No, BECAUSE YOU HAVEN’T HOOKED IT UP YET!!
Rogers Tool - Oh. Well we need to confirm that someone will be home before we send someone over.
Distraught New Apartment Dweller - How exactly do you set up new phone lines if you have to call to confirm before you set up the phone?
Rogers Tool - I don’t know.
Distraught New Apartment Dweller - Well, I will confirm to you that I will be home between 2:00 and 5:00 today.
Rogers Tool - Oh, we can’t do that.
Distraught New Apartment Dweller - Okay, figure it out and I will call back in an hour.
Rogers Tool - Okay. Have we answered all of your questions today?
Distraught New Apartment Dweller -click-

Three days and four hours on hold at various pay phones around the new neighbourhood later, we had internet and cable, but still no phone. A guy did come to plug the phone into the wall. He went back and forth between his van and the apartment for half an hour, only to disappeared. An hour later, I called from a payphone to find out what was going on, only to go through the same old routine.
“The guy just left?”
“Yes.”
“You should have received a call letting you know that there was a problem with your phone.”
- click –

2 – UPS
K bought us an air conditioner from Costco and arranged to have it shipped to our apartment. After coming to the conclusion that there was no possible way to arrange to have the package delivered to us after 5:00 (is that such a strange request?) we opted to have it sent to a friend who is home on weekdays. After two days without a result, I called again.
UPS Tool – Hmmm…. It says here that there were two attempted deliveries, then an address change, then… nothing.
Distraught Soon-to-be-to-hot-in-our-new-apartment Guy - Nothing?
UPS Tool - Nothing.
Distraught Soon-to-be-to-hot-in-our-new-apartment Guy - Do you think you could tell me why?
UPS Tool – Let me check with my supervisor.
5 minutes later
UPS Tool – We don’t know why.
Distraught Soon-to-be-to-hot-in-our-new-apartment Guy – Okay, can you send it then please?
UPS Tool – Sure! We’ll call you before 11:00 to confirm.

That was two days ago and we still haven’t heard anything. I really wonder about people sometimes.

These recent experiences have also solidified my extreme dislike for automated phone systems. They serve no purpose whatsoever. With Rogers, for example, I spent the first 15 minutes of every phone call inputting my phone number, my postal code, and my shirt measurements (so that when I loose my shirt, they’ll know which employee to give it to) before proceeding the next menu - “Do you want help with Roger’s phone, cable or internet services?” The answer is “all of them!” but since that isn’t an option I would amuse myself by choosing a different option every time. Oddly enough, the cable option will get you the quickest service, but no matter which option you choose, the same person will answer and ask you the same questions again. Turns out that those phone systems are all just there to sell you more stuff, make you wait longer and give you the illusion that the company you are dealing with isn’t run by a group of a Noah’s Ark of crack addicted animals. Seriously, ask anyone who works for Bell or Rogers!

So, with the knowledge that no one from either Rogers or UPS loves me, I continue to wait for our new air conditioner and let the loathing for Rogers – who now controls our cable, TV, and internet – to secretly ferment close beneath my calm and composed exterior.


D.

post-script: It must be mentioned that K came to my rescue with Rogers. She's got fantastic phone skills. We now have all of our services hooked up as well as two weeks of free service.

post-post script: Here's what I imagine every time I am on the phone with someone stupid: Dead Parrot

Posted by D. at Wednesday, May 17, 2006 | Permalink | Comments

In case there was any doubt whatsoever, I have the best girl in the world. I made this point a while ago while celebrating the first ever International Month of K., but it was reinforced again this weekend.

K is the best because of the effort she puts into everything. Just take this weekend as an example. While I ran off for my old friend Krawn’s Stag and Doe (or Jack and Jill, or Buck and Doe, depending on where you are from) in Ajax, K was busy being perfect. Upon my return, here is a short list of what I found.

1 – Clean floors
K washed the floors. Personally, if my significant other is off partying, I’m sure as hell not going to clean. I even had to specifically tell her NOT to go on a crazy cleaning spree while I was gone. To be fair, I am going to clean our bathroom in the next few days.

2 – Part-ay
Just to make sure that I won’t be the only person hung-over on Sunday, K went to a raging party on Saturday.

3 – Make dinner
As soon as I walked in the door on Sunday, I could smell that K was up to her usual antics. She is currently in her “pre-party planning mode” which consists of finding as many great recipes as possible to serve at our next party. I get to be the guinea pig for all the great food that she makes, a task that I take with utmost seriousness. After eating Tim Horton’s, vending machine food, and other random junk foods all weekend, I came home to mushroom, bacon, and scallop skewers, roast-beef, onion ring, and horseradish-wasabi mayo sandwiches, and lemon-herb corn on the cob followed by fresh-cut fruit salad. Wow.

4 – Decorate
Two weeks into our new apartment, K has already ensured that the place is as comfortable and beautiful as our last place. This weekend, she hung a set of colourful Japanese cloths on just the right wall, at just the right height and spacing.

5 – Look Amazing!
So, not only was K busy with all of these goings on (as well as being “a bit under the weather”), but I was also greeted with a request to look at her beautiful new dress (complete with shoes). So dinner smells great as it is cooking, the place is clean and decorated, and K puts on this gorgeous summer dress. In usual D fashion, I was overwhelmed by all of this and fell flat on the one task that was given to me: tell K in no uncertain terms how amazing she looks. My only recourse is to plan a great romantic evening where I can show her off. Stay tuned.

So there you have it. Oh, what did I do this weekend you ask? Well, I went on a road-trip to Ajax and had too much beer (all in support of Krawn’s upcoming wedding, of course!) and passed out. So I’m a bit tired this Monday morning at work, but K must be exhausted – and who could blame her!

D.

Posted by D. at Monday, May 15, 2006 | Permalink | Comments

Reviews by D:

Pearl Jam - Pearl Jam

Tool - 10,000 Days

The Tragically Hip - World Container

Posted by D. at Friday, May 12, 2006 | Permalink | Comments

So I went out and bought some new CDs last week. Yes, you heard that right, I bought music. From the store. With money.

Even though I own an iPod, I really like listening to a non-compressed CD in a dark quiet room with big juicy headphones on. Call me crazy, but you really can tell the difference between and mp3 and a CD track, especially on the sound of the snare drums and cymbals. So when a CD comes out that I know will be good, and I know I will need to give the sound the justice it deserves, I will go out and buy it. It’s kind of like going to see a movie versus renting it (or downloading it, for that matter). There are some movies that you just have to see in the theatre, like Star Wars or King Kong, and there are some CDs that you have to buy to listen to, like Nine Inch Nails or Radiohead. This is not to say that they are lesser CDs, it just means that I can live with myself if I don’t own them.

Now, the two CDs that I bought this week are must-owns. Here’s a short review of each:

Pearl Jam – Pearl Jam
So, the new Pearl Jam CD has been called a “return to form” by a lot of reviewers. It seems that the prevailing opinion on Pearl Jam is that their last few albums were crap. I for one think the crazy experimental Pearl Jam was just as good as the rest. I love Binaural and No Code, I think they have great songs on them and as a whole, the albums stand up well. And they don’t sound that much different than this new one – the only difference is that the new CD is much more accessible and fast paced. I think all of the little pieces that made me enjoy the other albums came together on this one.

If you compare this CD to Ten or Vs, they are completely different. I think these two are their best so far followed closely my Vitalogy (which was great, but had its moments of “meh…”). Where this one stands out that it combines the energy of Vs with the edge they developed over their last few albums, and that edge is what I always characterized with Pearl Jam. Whenever I hear "Alive" or "Even Flow", I think of how great those tunes could have been with a bit more of a fine touch to them. This is what they’ve managed to do with the new CD all while combining the “Anti-Bush” sentiment of Riot Act.

Standouts are “Army Reserve” which has a great groove in its main riff, as well as some good old fashioned Vedder screams and “Comatose”, a “Spin the Black Circle” rocker. As with any great album, there are some great slow tracks as well, like “Come Back” which has a slow-jam feel and “Parachutes” which feels like it could have been on a Pink Martini CD.

Overall, the album is well done and worth buying.


Tool – 10,000 Days

Okay, Tool may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it certainly is mine! I’m not a big fan of all things heavy and loud, although in my youth, I have been known to listen to a few questionable bands (Limp Bizkit anyone?) but always with an underlying appreciation for what they were doing different. I liked the Bizkit because of Wes, their guitarist who always managed to make a regular rap-metal song different. I had a soft spot for Korn because they were the first to really tune their sound down low and experiment with it. I still enjoy the Deftones because they are more than just a metal band. And Tool has always done things a bit differently as well.

For anyone that hasn’t learned to appreciate this band – a position I completely understand – let me give you a bit of a primer. Tool is like mathematical Led Zeppelin with a good chunk of dark Black Sabbath, psychedelic Pink Floyd, and pure loudness.

Reviewing a Tool CD is hard because it isn’t very accessible, and it is definitely not easy to convince a non-listener that they should listen. As a matter of fact, if you are thinking of becoming a Tool fan, talk to me first. I’ll get you some essential listening and explanations on why what you are listening to is so awesome. It is also tough to review because you cannot listen to the tracks as single songs, true appreciation can only happen if you listen to the whole thing. And you can’t listen to it just once; you have to listen to it, in its entirety at least five times before you begin to get into it. That takes a big time commitment. Thankfully, they make their albums with five years between them, which is just enough time to digest it properly. I’ve always bought their albums shortly after their release and I have never found myself waiting for the next one. In fact, I still listen to the album of ten years ago, Aenima, with as much wonder as I did when I bought it, and I haven’t even begun to figure out their last (and best) album, Lateralus.

As such, I was a bit unprepared for this one, which is a shame because there is a lot more going on with this album than any of their last ones. It is also a lot harder to listen to because there aren’t any solid easy listening singles. Almost every tune feeds into the next one, and thematically they are all tied together. Sitting down with this one on my day off last week for a first listen was almost painful because so much was being pushed into my head at once. Now, after a week of digesting, I think it is one of their best. It definitely has some of the best tracks ever, but one or two weaker ones hurt the flow a bit.

“The Pot” is a great song with some really interesting vocal sounds. “Vicarious”, the first single, is possible the best Tool song ever, and the 17 minutes of “Wings” (a song about Maynard’s recently passed mother – split into two parts) is the most personal and emotional song Tool has ever written.

As usual, the CD is full at 78 minutes, which I love. I always feel better about buying a disk that uses all the space to its fullest. I feel like I am getting my money’s worth. Rather than run through 11 tracks, the band takes their time and develops the songs and the themes to their fullest. It is something that can seem a bit bloated if it isn’t done right, and Tool definitively does get it right by not repeating the same verse-chorus-verse structure, but rather by moving the songs forward with new ideas throughout. I know a lot of people will bristle at this comparison, but I always think of classical music when I listen to Tool simply because they never use a verse-chorus-verse formula in their songs, but rather use themes, time changes, key changes, and new ideas to build a song.

Of course, the drumming is out of this world. If you are a fan of bands that have great drummers, then you are missing out. I’ve never heard any band have such consistently mind-blowing drumming. I have no idea how they do it. The vocals are great as long as you appreciate Maynard’s style. The bass has a very different sound than previous Tool albums. I think it sounds more “prog-rock” than before, but it is featured only when it fits. The guitar work is great, and genius in its simplicity.

So, if you are willing to invest the time to understand the CD while blowing out your ear-drums, pick this up!

D.

Posted by D. at Wednesday, May 10, 2006 | Permalink | Comments

So, in a past blog I made mention of our freindly and open PM's use of the thumb. It was mostly a reason to talk about J and W who were, at the time, about to welcome a little bundle of joy into their lives. Of course, the bundle is here now, crying and sucking away at his soother, and depriving his mom of sleep.

Anyway, W sent me a picture which will inspire a new segment on my blog. The segment will document the rising use of the "thumbs up" by various celbrities and public figures, as popularized by this very web site. Of course, I am reluctant to take all the credit for the upcoing rash of thumbers, but I think time will show that they can all be traced back to this blog and to J, the original and most prolific thumber there ever was.

So, here is the photo:

It is of the PM again and his head cheque writer, Jim Flaherty after they delivered their first big cookie to the Canadian voters. They're happy because they think they've just won themselves a solid four years. They're also happy because they are under the impression that they are winning the war on control of public opinion. Here is a snippet of a closed door conversation that I imagine they might have had after giving this raucous thumbs up.

PM: Wow! By shutting everyone up, we're doing really well!

PM lackey #1: Right-o, Stevey! As long as we can shut everyone up for the next year or less, we're set!

PM: Righteous!

PM lackey #2: But, doesn't the media play a large part in public opinion? I mean, there are two 24 hour news chanels and dozens of papers in Canada that are getting more and more annoyed that we won't talk to them about anything of substance! And even Rick Mercer is getting pissed. We've had two of his "Rants" directed squarely at us! And just because the press was nice and cozy with us during the last election, doesn't mean that we can just as easily win them over next time around...

PM: You're fired.

So let the good times roll, Canada. And enjoy your tax cuts. Thumbs up.

D.

post-script: Anyone wishing to submit a "thumbs-up" photo is free to do so. You should have my email...

Posted by D. at Tuesday, May 09, 2006 | Permalink | Comments

It was about a week ago as I was walking down one of the long grey halls of the non-descript interior of my bland workplace that someone passed me in the hall and said something that I found a bit disturbing.

As anyone who has spent any time with me will tell you, I am a pretty content person. Not only content, but calm as well. It is rare that I fly into a rage about anything, unless I'm driving a rental car - or any car for that matter - as I have been known to yell and curse at other drivers. At work, I am even calmer simply because there isn't anything worth getting into a fuss about. I've worked in the kitchen at Harvey’s in my high school days, and that was a stress filled job. The particular location in which I slung grease was the record holder for sales in a year in Canada. When you can keep track of 30 different burgers on the grill, six different deep fryers, all while keeping up the stocks of buns and packaging for hours on end, while rocking out to Led Zeppelin IV, you will know you can handle any kind of stress. When you work in a shoddy hotel with clients expecting four-star service, and you are one of three waiters on staff, the senior waiter in fact, with three shifts of Pizza-Hut serving credentials to your name, and no one speaks English or French, you will know stress, and how good four straight shots of brown tequila can taste!

Don't get me wrong, office jobs can be stressful. There are tight deadlines, people yelling at you, you yelling at people, people yelling at other people, long hours, and with the blackberry craze there are times when you can never leave. And I must say, in the grand scheme of things, my office job in particular isn’t very stressful.

And no one who has a steady job - especially those of us who are public servants - ever has the right to hate their job. They are paid well and have job security and benefits. What more could you ask for. With only a modicum of motivation, you can find a job that challenges or interests you.

So there I was, walking down the hall, and someone who I don't know all too well walked by and said "What are you so happy about?” Of course, I had no idea that I had one of my goofy smiles on as I was strutting along with my head in the clouds. I was probably thinking about our new apartment (stay tuned!) or the hockey game the night before. I might have been laughing at an old tired joke (Did you hear that the Pope caught the Bird Flu? He got it from one of his Cardinals - Wakka wakka wakka! Thanks B.).

K., by the way, frequently asks me what I am smiling about. While I often have no idea which of the billions of trains in my cranial-subway system generated the smile, I maintain a fairly solid answer:

"You know, there are so many random acts of violence and hatred in the world that I guess I just feel like I need to add a small act of random happiness, for balance."

Of course, I couldn’t articulate this to the person I passed the hall. All I could answer was "Oh, just life in general," which was met with the reply "Must be nice..."

Next time you find yourself in a bit of a "Must be nice..." mood, try this little exercise. I saw a CBC news piece about Laughing Yoga or something. Most of Laughing Yoga consists of getting together which a bunch of people and just laughing for no reason. You just go and belt out some good old laughter. I thought was a bit excessive, I mean why should I pay some stretchy pants wearing Yoga type $10 for an hour of laughing when I can rent The 40 Year Old Virgin for $5 and laugh for two hours? But one nuggets of wisdom that came out of watching the story was this:

1 - Take a pen or a pencil THAT IS CLEAN!
2 - Place lengthwise in your jaw as far back as you can so you look like a dog carrying a bone
3 - Try and pull your lips away from the pen or pencil

This is an artificial way to force a smile. Whether through Pavlovian training or some biological reaction, when we smile, we get happy. Apparently, we don't smile because we are happy, we are happy because we smile. So if you are stressed at work, try it out and inject a little random act of laughter into our world. I dare you not to give a little laugh as you do - you can't help it, it's biological.

Tee-hee.

D.

Posted by D. at Monday, May 08, 2006 | Permalink | Comments