Saturday, March 6, 2010

Open Letter

Dear French Lady Who Corrected the French Portion of My All-Staff E-mail,

You probably don't know this about me, but I don't actually speak French. However, if you had thought about it, you probably could have figured it out, because you went through the French portion of the all-staff e-mail I sent out and marked in red my errors and sent it to me 15 minutes before quitting time on a Friday afternoon.

I actually copied the French portion of that e-mail from a template (written by a French person), and just changed the applicable words. Because I don't speak French.

I am learning French, I'm taking classes in it, in order to get a better job. In the meantime, thank you for berating me in French after pointing out my errors.

Oh yeah - I don't speak French. So I have no idea what the rest of your e-mail said.


Friday, March 5, 2010

Cold Hard Cash (or: I Need a Boy Like Johnny)

In my endeavour to post every day in March (oh yeah, didn't I mention that's what I was doing?), I seem to have forgotten about the fact that my life isn't super-interesting.

Um... I watched Walk the Line last night. It was like a white Ray. Although June Carter's (Reese Witherspoon) costumes made my day. And I like it when she has a southern accent. And I like it when she sings. The music was my favourite.

I need a rock and roll boy. Preferably one with a dark brown or black pomp. Yes please.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Sold out sellouts

As I previously mentioned, yesterday was my best friend's birthday. I took him to see Wilco.

The opening act was Bahamas, and I have to say the lead singer was a bit of a dick. OK, so, Wilco asks you to open some shows on their tour, don't bitch about having only one guitar (oh, and by the way, I saw you pick up your second guitar and carry it off stage), and complain about having to borrow your mother's Subaru to drive to Halifax for your next show.

He just seemed so damn bitter and ungrateful. Dude. You got to open for Wilco to a sold-out theatre. Suck it up.

He did berate some front-row talkers and texters though, which was pretty funny. However he made me so uncomfortable with his breakup songs and his heart on his sleeve that the one moment of humour wasn't fun enough. It was a disappointment that Califone (who opened most of the tour) weren't the opening act.

As for Wilco themselves? Well, the nicest thing I can say is that Michael had a good time.

My friend Sean's assessment? "Proficient but tasteless. The Cats of rock and roll."

Well played, my friend, well played.

Monday, March 1, 2010


It's St. David's Day today, and on this day in 1970, Michael David Sheridan was birthed.

I was lucky enough to be his girlfriend/fiancée/whatever for four years.

I'm luckier still that I've been his best friend for two.

He's awesome and hilarious and makes me laugh like not many other people can. He's insightful and serious and sometimes dour. He's single (ladies) and sweet and can cook up some pasta that will make you swoon. He knows a lot about wine and a bit about scotch and another little bit about a lot of other things.

Here are some pictures of Michael that I love:

For Halloween in 2005 we went as hipster douchebags to a house party. A lot of people asked us why we weren't in costume. Patrick wanted to punch Michael in the face. It was a good night.

(Note: While Michael and I are both reasonably photogenic, there is not one single picture of the two of us together in which we look good. This photo is no exception. Probably a good thing we never got married, hey?)

I am not exaggerating in the least when I tell you that this is my favourite photo of Michael ever in the entire universe. Seriously: look at that face. And he's drinking wine? And he's clearly drunk? And he's wearing a lei? Yes please.

Michael plays in two bands - our band, The Inbetweenies, and this other band with a bunch of stupid boys who are stupid. I hate this band. (I don't really, I'm kidding, they are super-cute and fun and I went and saw them and danced my butt off. Well, not my butt, but I did kind of dance out of my bra...)

ANYWAY, the band is called The Start and they do British 80s music mostly and it's really fun and I love them and I love to see Michael rock the eff out.

None. None more metal.

Michael is magic. You should know this.