Sunday, October 31, 2010

WARNING: This post is weak.

Because my creativity has left me but I've been a very negligent blogger: some interesting advertisements I've come across recently....

1.  On the radio station I listen to each morning on the way to work, they regularly give jewelry away as prizes for listeners who call in and jump through the appropriate hoops.  Normally it's your birthstone in the form of a necklace or earrings or something.  More recently however, they've kicked it up (or down?) a notch.  Their current advertisement:
"...want to once again give two BFFs a great gift; a pair of pearl necklaces to celebrate their friendship."
If this doesn't sound weird to you, you don't know what kind of pearl necklace I giggle about whenever I hear this commercial.  (NOTE:  Maybe my in-laws shouldn't click on that link, nor should you if you're at work - your IT department will think you to be a pretty kinky (or exciting?) individual.  Your call.)   Also?  I'm 100%  95%  90% sure I'm not the only one who thinks of this when I hear this commercial.

2.  On this same radio station they run advertisements for a local plastic surgeon at "Bluewater Surgeries".  They're targeting young mom's who are missing their pre-baby body and are willing to take time away from mommy-hood to undergo some cosmetic procedures that will turn them into that "yummy mummy they knew they could be".  The ad campaign ends with a little tune that says "Fall in love with yourself, Bluewater Surgeries".  Not meaning to go all feminist on you, dear reader, but it saddens me that cosmetic companies are focusing their marketing campaigns on young women who should quite frankly have better things to worry about than fitting in their "skinny jeans" having just had a child.  I think this company may be in cohoots with The Gap.

...So far, it's looking like the ad companies want you (and your BFF) to be skinny and taut so that you can attract men who will give you pearl necklaces!  There's got to be something better out there, right?  Let's continue...

A sign that I used to drive past on the way home from work:

So what we have here is a billboard for a karaoke spot for kids, which is licensed by the Liquor Board of Ontario...the place that controls all the booze for our Province.  They really want to start them on the booze at a young age, eh? I suppose it's only fitting though.  If they find joy in drinking, they'll be more likely to pair up with their best friend and meet up with a guy who will give them pearl necklaces, and then knock-them-up, after which they'll need to go to Bluewater Surgeries to get their pre-baby bodies back!  Oh, the circle of life.

On a completely unrelated note to all-things-advertising, did you guys know that apparently you need to have a pumpkin on your porch or in a window in order for the little halloween people to know that you're giving away free candy?  Sadly, we dropped the ball on the pumpkin boat, and have had about 16 little rug-rats in the last hour and a half.  We've watched people walk past our house, looking in at us, but coaxing their kids to go to the house next door.  Maybe it's because of our reputation as the naked house.  Once again, home ownership will lead to plumper home-owners as we eat the candy we couldn't give away....*sigh*

Monday, October 25, 2010

Living the Exposed Life - May Contain Pornographic Images of Sorts...NSFW

Contrary to what the title of today's blog may indicate, I have not turned into a nudist since my last post.  Instead, being the bad, bad blogger that I am (having not updated in nearly two months), I've been so enthralled with the process of finding a home, buying a home, and then moving into said home, that the art of blogging has been lost on me.  Let me destroy your hopeful dreams right now by promising you that this update will in no way compensate for my lengthy absence.  Instead I shall regale you with observations about first-time home ownership and why I'm pretty sure buying a house equates with a ten pound weight gain which leads to friends suggesting you read books about compulsive eating. 

A short list of my personal observations regarding our home acquisition and home ownership (in the whole 9 days we've lived here):
1.  During our time living in rental units, I lived in a relatively constant state of fear that something expensive was going to be ruined and we'd end up having to pay for it.  As a prime example, less than 2 weeks before moving out of our apartment, Toby decided to become a carpet muncher (no, not this kind of carpet muncher), when he decided to chew the carpet right down to the underpad in a small area of our bedroom.  Upon looking up the breakdown of general repairs as supplied to us by our property management company, we were potentially looking at $1400 to replace the carpet in that one room.  That's more than we paid for the dog and all of his associated vet bills.  Something about this did not seem right.  But now it's a whole new ball game.  Now I live in a constant state of fear that something expensive is going to break and we're going to end up having to pay for it, which when you think about it seems like it's the same ball game, but I guess we're just in a different field now.  I feel as if any potential problem we have is magnified a hundred (thousand) times knowing that we are the only ones responsible for handling whatever situations may arise.  I do believe our neighbourhood's property values may reflect this point over time.

2.  Buying things is fun!  And addictive!  Also?  It's incredibly hard finding that special balance between "I don't want to be broke", and "I want to replace everything we own!  Would it be too obvious if the moving truck with all of our insured belongings accidentally ended up in the river?".  This is increasingly more difficult when you realize that you're still using the same furniture you moved out with 4 years ago, or the $15 end-table that is a byproduct of Swedish child-labour.

3.  I'm a little disappointed that our house isn't haunted.  I think I've watched too many episodes of Ghost Whisperer and had convinced myself that moving into this house would be like some magical gateway into the world of communicating with ghosts.  (Although I continue to consider the fact that maybe they're just shy...) 

4.  I'm worried that we're going to establish a reputation for ourselves in our new neighbourhood as the "naked ones".  The original intent with this phrasing was because all of our windows are naked (finding acceptable window treatments is hard, y'all!), but the more I think about this, the more I realize that people are quite probably actually seeing us naked since the only room in the house without a window is the bathroom.  I'm increasingly suspicious of the neighbours peeping-tom habits since several people walked past our house this evening while I was sitting in the car out front - they made direct eye contact with me but did not return my polite smile...instead, I caught them rubber-necking to look into our house as they walked along.  If they're trying to get a good glance in now, they won't for long....

Moving is incredibly fattening.  First, there's the fact that you're trying to "eat down" the reserves of food you have in your fridge, freezer and pantry so that it's less for you to move come the big day.  Of course the closer you get to moving day, the fewer options you have, and the chances increase dramatically that you'll opt for pizza, or something with equal artery-clogging powers.  Then comes moving day where you reward the help of your movers with yet more pizza for lunch!  And beer!  Lots and lots of beer!  Then come dinner time you're tired of pizza, so you decide to get chinese food instead, only this time you're not hungry again an hour later because the yeast from all the beer you've been drinking makes you feel like this.  Since you have no eggs, no bread, no anything really your husband suggests McDonald's for breakfast the next morning.  A couple days later, you realize that one of your movers missed out on the reward of pizza and beer because she had to leave for a family function, so you decide you'll make her a cake.  Only instead of making her a cake using all of the batter, you decide to play "some for you, some for me", and end up making one small cake for her and a dozen cupcakes which are promptly devoured by you and your husband. Of course you're out running errands and shopping all the time (see observation # above), and by the time you get home it's too late to actually cook anything, so you end up picking food up on the way home.  It's a vicious cycle that ultimately leads to this:
Also?  I apparently had no arms when we were living in the apartment.

So anyways - moving = you get fatter.  So much fatter that in the once-a-month-get-together where you meet up with a few friends and discuss a book you all read for about 15 minutes but then continue to yak about all things not-book-related, one of your friends decides to suggest you all read a book about overcoming compulsive eating.  Number of girls in this small little group? Five.  Number of girls with a BMI greater than 18%?  One.  Hmm.  Come to think of it...this book was recommended before the move.  Awesome. 

Truth be told, we may be a few pounds heavier in the new house, but we'll take those added pounds over the potentially fatal injuries that could have been incurred had we stayed in our Toronto neighbourhood.  I think this one is an easy call.