Rose's Cantina

My husband and I were having a nice time last evening, watching a Diane Keaton movie in which she plays a bitch. Diane was definitely playing against type as the snarky wife of the dispicable Kevin Kline. I didn't like her character. I also didn't much like her hair. Suddenly, I realized that I didn't like her character because she was playing me. Lately, I've been sniping at Scott, saying really nasty things. This is unlike me. I love my husband. I usually treat him gently. But the harsh economic times have done a number on my psyche. It hasn't helped that he quit his crappy job just before Christmas. I decided to make amends. "I want to apologize," I said. "I realized watching this movie that I have become a first-class bitch. You don't deserve that. That said, I think I'm mad at you for quitting your job." Feeling I hit a nerve, I continued, fueled by copious amounts of Merlot. "I realize that you hated that jo...

I've been noticing something weird lately. Lots of people say that time goes really, really fast when you start to get old. My experience is the opposite. That's because I work at home. When I worked in an office, the weeks flew by. You couldn't get to your holidays fast enough and they were over in the blink of an eye. When you work at home, time creeps along in its petty pace, as Bill Shakespeare used to say. He must have been a home office worker. Each day begins exactly the same. I let the dogs out, then I feed them, then I get go to the gym or take the dogs for a walk. Then I get down to work for a couple of hours. Then it's lunch time. I put on the noon news on CTV Ottawa which always has some lame business that it's trying to promote. But I watch it. Every single day. Then it's afternoon naptime. Then it's suppertime. Then it's wine time. Then it's bed. See? It never changes. But the weird part is that despite time rolling a...

Dear Lord: That's right, I'm talking to you. I tried talking to your son last year, but I guess he decided to spend New Year's Eve with Ryan Seacrest. I've been thinking about my resolutions, those pesky things that none of us can ever keep. But being an optimist, I resolve to keep them this year. To wit, I resolve: To stop breaking things. In 2012, I broke my really expensive coffee maker, my Ekornes leather chair which came all the way from Denmark, my tooth, my car, my foot, my heart. And I think, maybe, I might have broke my liver. To stop drinking red wine after dinner. Yeah, right. Let's just say, I'll do the best I can. To get off the damned blood pressure medication which, as far as I can determine, just makes me feel anxious about my blood pressure. To get a full time job that will allow me to enter the bank and have them not laugh at me when I present my meagre paycheques. To stop using MoneyMart. See previous resolutions. To collect ...

Aside from nearly losing my two front teeth during a dog walking accident, it's been a ridiculously wonderful Christmas for me. It began with the acquisition of the Christmas pug, Sophie Tucker, who, as we speak, is engaged in a heroic battle to the death with the gynormous Finnigan. Sophie weighs less than four pounds and most of it is teeth. She spent the last four days sweeping the kitchen floor while attached to my suede slipper. The last two pugs on my watch, Gordie and Ming (he of the preent, she of the past) were kind, sweet, woo-wooing little dogs. Sophie is evil. Aside from tormenting the deserving-of-torture 90 pound Finnigan, she has already caused a major rug calamity after diving through the air, like some kind of Wallenda, from Scott's chair to the table and toppling a rather large glass of Merlot onto the beige carpet. She considers herself an indoor girl and, while she grudgingly squats for a pee outside, she also has managed to find crannies about ...

I woke up on this crisp Christmas morning thinking about Chief Theresa Spencer and her hunger strike. She's not looking for the new Wii or PS3 under a fake Christmas tree. All she wants on this day is a meeting with Stephen Harper to discuss the plight of Canada's indigenous people. Not too much to ask, I say. This kind of real dialogue should have happened a long time ago. But our Prime Minister won't meet with her to talk. He's probably saying in that George Bush way he has that he doesn't negotiate with terrorists...or mothers on a hunger strike. Really what he's thinking about is Canada's dirty little secret, the metaphorical abused child locked in the basement of our posh custom made house. To open that door would expose our country to the world and leave us open to charges of neglect and abuse, passive aggressiveness in times when action is needed. This morning on reserves and in cities across Canada, men, women and children will be freez...

Nobody told me that dog walking was a contact sport. I had just put the puppy Sophie down this morning at the dog park when Finnigan the retriever throttled toward me smashing his big stupid black head into my mouth. I suppose it could have been worse. If his blow had landed a couple of inches higher, he would have broken my nose. For now, I have a sore tooth and an upper lip that looks like hamburger. Also a split lower lip. I won't be needing stitches but I may have to eat my turkey dinner through a straw. Merry Christmas Eve, ho, ho, ho. This isn't my first time at the Christmas injury rodeo. Nope. Last year, I sprained my ankle falling over the late Hannah and spent New Year's day and the better part of a month with an ankle the size and consistency of a juicy pork hock. And one year, I spent New Year's Eve in the emergency after Fred Chartrand accidentally cut my eye with ticker tape at the Canadian Press New Year's Party. That injury lasted for fiv...

A story carried today by the National Post . MONTREAL — Before 2012, Luka Rocco Magnotta was a little-known, 4-a.m regular at a Montreal diner, where he munched on poutine and guzzled water to rehydrate after performing at a nearby strip joint. He ends the year as a notorious international figure — an accused killer charged with stomach-turning crimes that set off a global manhunt and horrified people around the world. Driven by his headline-grabbing spring, Magnotta has been voted Canada’s 2012 Newsmaker of the Year in the annual poll of the country’s newsrooms by The Canadian Press. The National Post is not a member of The Canadian Press organization and was not involved in the poll. It is shameful enough that the Canadian Press made this announcement just days after the mass killing in Littletown, Connecticut. Every forensic psychiatrist quoted on television has noted that most mass killers are not mentally ill, rather, they are in it for the notoriety.  I...