nd I'd give myself a solid 8/10 at life. It's just that remaining 2/10 that's sometimes missing. This other 20 per cent is, in my opinion, the zest of life. It's those moments you get caught up in and find yourself wondering if this is really your life -- is it actually possible to be this excruciatingly happy?
I realize that Tim Hunt is not a character on a sitcom. But when, oh when, did everyone become so brittle and humorless? And where is our sense of proportion? Hunt didn't harass a colleague or assault someone or fire a woman who wouldn't have sex with him or say that women shouldn't be scientists or that female scientists weren't as good as male scientists.
Poverty, inequality, violations of human rights and other forms of social injustice aren't usually associated with humour. But growing numbers of international development organizations are using humour both to catch our attention and to make us think more deeply about serious issues of global injustice. While some global charities still use pictures of sad, hungry children in their communications, others are using much more creative strategies involving humour -- from satire to parody to slap-stick comedy.
Baby C is getting closer and closer to hitting his first birthday. I can't believe it, and because I know this is my last child, I'm feeling a little bittersweet. There are plenty of things I know I will not miss about the baby stage, but when I stop to think about them, I have to admit that I'll miss them, in their own way.
If your child is anything like mine, he can sleep through the apocalypse, once he's deep in sleep. Seriously, 15 minutes into a nap, the fire brigade could pull up in front of our house with sirens wailing, and he wouldn't do anything more than sigh deeply and roll to one side. However, falling asleep requires a special kind of silent juju that I still haven't got straight, after two kids.
Yes, it's been 25 years since I was an awkward teenager, screaming pop ballads out my car window on the way to my job at K-Mart. Like many people, the songs of my teen years hold a special place in my heart. So this week I'm taking the Delorean to 1990 and remembering what the Top Five Songs were on Billboard's Top 100 chart this week way back when.
Dear Kristin Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez. First of all, let me congratulate you on your success. A hit Disney movie, two Oscars, an American Music Award, a big single...it's wonderful and awe-inspiring. But I think I can speak for all parents when I ask you to never compose music for a children's movie, ever again.
I don't wear makeup because of society. It's not because every endorsed picture of the naturally exquisite Sofia Vergara makes me want to set my corneas on fire. It's not because I don't like what I see in the mirror without embellishments (okay, it's a bit of all of those things). It's because, for the most part, wearing make up makes my days better.
"I like my violence like I like my beer: domestic" This was the recent Facebook status of popular east-end Montreal bar, Nacho Libre, whose social media manager somehow thought it completely appropriate to publish this cringe-inducing "joke." Isn't domestic abuse a riot? Sexist jokes are not funny -- they're hostile.
Do you really want to know why a barista not remembering their name offends people? Because people think they are special. Everyone thinks that his or her drink order is special and that his or her name is special. Everyone is too busy being offended about how they are special to realize that to an hourly employee trying to get by, you're just another non-fat, extra hot, no foam double latte.
I've been meaning to write this to you for some time, but to be honest, I've been so huddled up under layers of sweatshirts and blankets that it makes using a keyboard difficult. I suppose all that's really done is prolong the inevitable. But our time has come. I think it's time we re-evaluate our relationship.