Green Mango

Reasons not to date me

2010-10-03T23:40:00.003-07:00

I have an unhealthy obsession with kitchen gadgetry.

Even after seven solid attempts over the last six years, I have yet to finish Anna Karenina.

I'm a married woman.

I gave you no warning that I am retiring this blog.

The Intern and I have tied the knot! Hoorah!

~ g. mango is looking forward to gardening, lawn bowling, knitting and other relaxing activities enjoyed by retired people everywhere.

Me and Jesus

2010-05-29T13:20:00.002-07:00

Much like Jesus, I have risen from the depths of hell. Unlike Jesus, it's just temporary, and starting Monday, I'll be joining in the chorus of gnashing teeth. And by that I mean, I'll be back at school all day, every day. And every night I will be buried under an almost unbearable amount of paper-writing, chapter-reading, and reflection-writing.

I know, it sounds like I'm exaggerating, but it is true! I am taking the equivalent of 7 courses right now. In French, no less! Sometimes it feels like it's going to be the end of me. But by some miracle (or fit of denial), I think I have done enough work this week to actually afford myself at least a partial weekend. Hoorah!

I went to see The Very Best last night with friends as a reward for my diligence. And today I have no intention of getting dressed. The little pleasures in life seem so great when faced with gnashing of teeth.

Redefining Productivity

2010-04-21T21:25:00.013-07:00

Oh, April, where have you gone?

We have one month of vacation in my teacher education program and it is April. I set off to do a whole host of things this month and so far am only about half-way through. Luckily, I am a tenacious kind of girl, so I don't see why I can't polish off the rest of the list in the next nine days.

Here is a short (read: long) photo re-cap of some of the things that April brought with her.

We went to Oregon.

I learned to play the ukulele. Sort of.

A chicken was roasted.

A small vat of ice cream was made and consumed.

Some poor animal was dried out and bottled.

Some apples were stripped of their dignity and viciously sliced into quarter-inch rounds.

The aforementioned apples met the same fate as the unfortunate animal.

And that's what the first two-thirds of my vacation yielded. More culinary and geographic adventures to come, I suspect. But one can never know.

~g.mango chooses vacation for her vocation!

March Break

2010-03-11T13:06:00.003-08:00

Hello, Internets. I've missed you.

When last we spoke I was flustered and frustrated, and neck-deep in the crappy part of student-teaching. But almost immediately after I had to write things in boxes and promise to over-plan every minute of my work day, the most wonderful thing happened: the higher ups okayed my plans and then left me alone.

So I promptly forgot all about the lesson plans and unit plans. And I started teaching. Woo! Teaching is so much more fun than planning to teach. Watching kids build yurts with their bodies, or exploring topography by making a class map of India (again with their bodies) is so much more exciting and fulfilling than writing about why it might be exciting and educational.

So, yeah, I'm doing just fine. Kicking ass and taking names later.

It also doesn't hurt that I have an excellent mentor teacher who is very encouraging and freely shares ideas and resources.

Now I just have to finish the last two weeks of March and I am ready for the world! Sort of.

~g. mango is getting an A+ for affort

Flunking out of teacher's college

2010-01-21T22:10:00.002-08:00

I don't think I am cut out to be an education student. There are times when I really do enjoy the act of teaching, learning, hunkering down with students, getting to know them, etc. But before I get to any of that good stuff there is the impossible task of planning units and lessons. Is there a real teacher out there somewhere who actually does this shit?

I'm all for having a plan. But, as you well know, I cannot be caged. And all of these god-forsaken unit and lesson plans have to be typed up, categorized, and fit into horrible little boxes on my computer screen. And as cliché as it sounds, I really do not think inside the box.

We have learned (in the very few classes that they give us at the university before they fling us into the unknown) that different students learn different ways and that, as teachers, we should not only respect but embrace the diversity of learning styles in our classroom. We learn to make room for the introspective types by letting them write a journal instead of an essay. We learn to make room for the musical types by letting them rap the passage of an apple through the digestive system instead of taking a test. We learn to let the dramatic types act out the archetypes of Jungian psychology instead of filling in a worksheet. We learn to stop privileging text exclusively and start embracing art, movement, music and nature.

And then they make us write. In little boxes. And put ourselves and our big ideas in little boxes.

But I, as you well know, cannot be caged.

~g. mango don't want no education

Nest, sweet nest

2010-01-06T18:13:00.004-08:00

FROM THE DUSTY KEYBOARD OF GREEN MANGO

Dear Internets,

When last we spoke I lamented the arduousness that is packing. Since then, I have been reminded of another labourious task to be avoided at all costs: unpacking. Please note that though packing/moving is still first on my personal list of grievances, unpacking comes in at a close second.

Perhaps it is the fact that the Intern and I had to combine two households in the space of one that made unpacking such a seemingly unsurmountable challenge. Perhaps it was the fact that we had neither garbage nor recyling facilities at our disposal, and the subsequent looming pile of cardboard boxes that overtook our kitchen. Perhaps it was the thick, hateful honey mustard drapes that blocked out the sun from our hateful honey mustard living space. Perhaps it was the unfortunate timing of two unwelcome monthly visitors. But for reals, y'alls. I thought I was gonna hate this place.

However, now that the boxes and the most oppressive bits of the mustard have been removed, and the city has decided to collect our refuse, and the monthly visitors have gone on to destroy another helpless female soul, things could not be better!

The Intern and I even succeed in putting together four pieces of Ikea furniture without me devolving into a petulant child. And that is a miracle in itself.

So do drop by and see our new place!* We look forward to having you here.

Cordially,

G. Mango (and the Intern)

--
*Now with 50% less mustard!

OMGFML

2009-12-12T17:13:00.004-08:00

I am moving tomorrow morning. I have been packing non-stop since Thursday afternoon. You would never know it, though. My bedroom is still in tact, except for an eerie lack of clothing in the closet. But that is really the only noticeable difference.

I hate moving. I hate packing. This is not a new, environmentally-induced statement. It is a truth that runs through my veins day in and day out. My nomadic childhood made me a wanderer, but washed out any fanciful misconceptions about new starts and new neighbourhoods. If you ask me on any given day what I hate most in the world, I would likely quote moving before trying to cover up my true self with something like "violence" or "injustice." But, let's be honest, moving sucks so large.

Packing, I think, is recognized under the Geneva Convention as a form of torture. So is disassembling Ikea furniture. I think the only thing worse than disassembling Ikea furniture is putting it together again. One day you have a fully-functional queen-sized bed, and the next all you have is four thousand special Ikea-only screws that don't match any of your screw drivers, forty-eleven pieces of misshappen stained-wood, and all of your hopes and dreams scattered across your new bedroom floor.

And what's worse: I already packed all the drugs and alcohol. Can't even self-medicate myself through this trauma.

~g. mango is a sedentary nomad.

For the Birds

2009-12-08T19:54:00.015-08:00

Don't look so surprised to see a post up here at the Olde Log. I know I have been neglecting you, but it is not without good reason. First, we all of a sudden started doing instead of feeling at school and I was thrown headlong (and slightly unprepared on account of all the feeling) into my first practicum. I was teaching Grade 8 French. And taking a night course. And still feeling every week and writing it all down and sending it to my supervisor, And, oh, writing a story. Not a publishable one (on account of copyright infringements*), but a story nonetheless. And I drew some pictures, too. It was for my night class.

SOME DRAWRINGS!

So, here, proof of my continued existence on this planet, and trickle-down benefits of class on French Curriculum: a few excerpts from Geai Bleu souhaite que le subjonctif ait une mort atroce (Blue Jay Hopes the Subjunctive Tense Dies a Terrible Death). A story about a plucky young bird and his quest to understand the uses of the subjunctive in French. I should warn you that the colours didn't really scan well; I rescanned Blue Jay himself on a different setting so you could get an idea of the real colours. It's the first image. Oh, and the text is all in French. So, good luck with that. Click to enlarge.

*(The Pigeon from Mo Willem's The Pigeon Finds a Hot Dog.)

~g. mango mange son hot-dog.

Reasons not to date me

2009-11-18T23:39:00.002-08:00

Can keep neither cacti nor bamboo plants alive for any significant amount of time.

Severe Earl Grey addiction.

Immune system is decorative at best.

Verbal processor.

Teenagers are my favourite.

In vino I'm hilarious. For like five minutes, then I fall asleep.

Irrational fondness for the sentence fragment.

~ sup, g?

Higher Education

2009-10-03T14:35:00.004-07:00

All right, all right, people. Here's the post you've been begging for. I haven't been writing because I haven't been doing much of anything that has not involved one or all of the following:

Going to school all day everyday
Also going to school at night
Wishing I was not at school
Doing schoolwork
Reflecting about how I feel about what we learned at school
Panicking about school
Talking to people from school about school
Trying to avoid talking to people from school about anything, really.

So, yes, I'm back at school. Vancouver only has one university way over on the other side of town, right before you fall into the ocean. I'm not going to that school, I am going to the school in the next town over from us, way atop Burnaby Mountain. And let me tell you, this is higher education (but only in terms of altitude). Ostensibly I'm there to learn how to teach teenagers how to be better people through the correct conjugation of French verbs. But at this point I am not convinced that the ends justifies the means.

This experience is unlike any other learning I've ever encountered. First, we don't get marks. At all. Ever. Second, we talk about our feelings. A lot. And then we go home and write about our feelings. And then we come back to school and share what we've written about the feelings that we talked about yesterday. Then we make a poster about our feelings with hidden flaps, and fun pictures. Then we share our posters and talk about how we feel about how creative we are for expressing our feelings in poster form.

I, for one, am running out of feelings. And patience.

I really want to learn to do something. For example, how does one go about planning a lesson? How does one choose activities that are engaging and awesome? What does one do if the students stage some sort of mutiny in the classroom? How does one keep from falling asleep after lunch when all one wants to do is curl up under one's desk? How does one find French videos that do not include full frontal nudity or old men in speedos?

I will let you know if we stop feeling and start doing. In the meantime, maybe you can answer some of my burning questions. Oh, and if you could answer them in French it would be even better, because (did I mention?) all of my schooling is in French!

~g. mango souhaite que le subjonctif ait une morte atroce

--
*And, on account of it being my second language, I have even fewer feelings in French than I do in English.

Greenery

2009-08-04T20:59:00.006-07:00

Today was overcast in Vancouver for the first time in weeks and as a result I was one giant lump of unmotivation, which I am not even sure is a word. I spent the better part of the day in bed recovering from one lovely night of camping at Sombrio Beach, four days on the island, and two weeks with my small sister. Not that any of that really needed recovering from, except maybe the camping trip.

Anyway, as a pick me up, Small Sister and I made some pasta with green things. Green things almost always make me happy, and this summer I've purchased a half of a CSA share that ensures that I've got greens spilling out of the fridge and into every dish I make.

If I were a food blogger I'd give you a detailed recipe, but as I am just regular blogger who likes food, here's a short list of the green things that went into it:

homemade garlic scape pesto
arugula
parsley
squeeze of lime
homemade basil pesto on the side (which, truthfully is kind of blackish on account of its homemadeish nature)

And the non-greens were:
some romano,
a bit of butter,
s & p,
a dash of milk

--
And here's what it looked like.

If you want some green things, you know where to find me. And now you know what I am doing with my days and nights.

~g. mango is always greener on the other side

Two Unrelated Drawrings

2009-07-28T09:29:00.007-07:00

IF JESUS LIVED IN MY NEIGHBOURHOOD

IF I WROTE NELSON'S WEST INDIAN READERS (WITH THE SAME DISREGARD FOR LITERACY AND SENSE THAT J.O. CUTTERIDGE HAD)

(Click to enlarge)

And there you have it! More about how I am spending my summer days and nights later.

~g. mango is a drawring machine!

Native CanLit

2009-07-09T16:54:00.002-07:00

I've been taking an English course by distance ed for about six months now. I suppose a more accurate statement would be that I've been taking my sweet old time with a distance ed course.

It's a first-year English course that I have to take to qualify for Teacher's College. When I did my previous degree I convinced my school to let me out of the mandatory English 101 type class that every undergrad has to take. Let me take this way cool second-year English course instead, I said, oozing charm and so very excited at the prospect of not having to read another "classic" Canadian novel or write another dreadful literary analysis.

But nine years later, my new school has an English 101 prerequisite, and they seem immune to my charm (and stunning good looks). Anyway, you can imagine that after trying to hard to avoid this course the first time around, it's with good reason that half a year after my start date I've still got two outstanding papers and an exam approaching.

If you are having trouble imagining the aforementioned reasons, here are a few to start you off.

1) Papers do not write themselves. I am sure this was a phenomenon that I was familiar with about a decade ago when I started my undergrad, however old age robbed me of my memory and the motivation to write thousands of words analyzing theme, plot, and other things I do not care about. I would be much happier to just read the short stories before bed, and maybe write a song about them, or make a new dish and name it after the story. Why can't profs offer to do assessments like that?

2) I am a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to schoolwork. And I spend far too much energy trying to make sure my essays compare and contrast in a manner suitable to someone who has a degree in language expertise.

3) I am also a bit lazy as far as reading all the extraneous garbage I am supposed to read in order to complete this course. "The Difference between There, Their, and They're" is the actual title of an actual section of my text that I was supposed to peruse about halfway through the course. Yes, there are people who don't know their pronouns, but they're probably still in grade three. See what I did there?

4) Regardless of my efforts, I always get the same respectable yet mildly unsatisfactory mark on everything I hand in. If I didn't have morals (albeit questionable ones) I'd hand in a blog post see if he could tell the difference. Oops! Too late, already did that. And I got the same mark I always get! Hoorah.

The one saving grace in this course is that the final assignment has me doing a research project on a really excellent topic! I am so excited to write that paper. But first I have to see to this compare and contrast nonsense.

~g. mango is a non-traditional use of characterization to carry both plot and theme to their obvious blah blah blah

In place of a real post

2009-06-16T19:19:00.004-07:00

Here's one of those silly little things that float around the interwebs whereby you (I) answer questions about yourself (myself) using the song titles from one artist. I picked K-OS because he is one of my favourite artist, and well, I am going to marry him one day. And also today was the last day of school and I have no energy to write something substantial. Feel free to leave your own little interweb answers in the comments or suggest some alternate ones for me.

--
Are you male or female: Uptown Girl

Describe yourself: I Wish I Knew Natalie Portman

How do you feel about yourself: Born to Run

Describe where you currently live: The Avenue

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Highway 7

Your best friend is: Fun! (Also: Superstar)

Your favorite color is: Black Ice

You know that: Eye Know Something

What's the weather like: The Rain

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Burning Bridges

What is life to you: Crucial

What is the best advice you have to give: Heaven Only Knows

If you could change your name, what would it be: Commandante

~g. mango wishes she could have found an excuse to use "Neutroniks" as an answer, but isn't really sure what it means

Reasons not to date me

2009-05-28T21:49:00.004-07:00

When walking, I cross the street multiple times to ensure that I am always on the sunny side. I do not care how inconvenient it is, or if it means that I will be late to whatever meeting or event I am headed to.

I will find a way to be late to whatever meeting or event I am going to anyway.

There is often a sock collection at the bottom of my bed between the fitted sheet and the top sheet due to my inability to fall asleep without socks on, the magical sock fairies who remove my socks at night without my knowledge, and my frantic morning routine which does not afford me the luxury of the time to de-sock my bed before work.

I like brownies. But not chocolate cake. And I like hot chocolate. But certainly not chocolate bars.

As a child I fought tirelessly with my sister over which of us would be the one to play this song at her wedding.

I have since deferred my claim to the above,¹ and now have called dibs on Somebody's Getting Married ² from The Muppets Take Manhattan and Burl Ives' version of Froggy Went a Courtin'.³

I am serious about that last bullet point.

~g. mango went down to miss mousie's house mmhmm

1. But I still know all the words!
2. I figure I have enough friends who would sing and dance in the ensemble if given enough practice time or alcohol.
3. I have picked two frog-related songs to express my truest devotion. Wonder what Freud would say about that?

The Great Pasta Adventure

2009-05-11T12:59:00.007-07:00

Here are some pics of a weekend of pasta making. Mamabear, T, and little old me went to town and this is what the results looked like.

Spaghetti

Drying linguini

Ravioli

~g. mango is a card-carrying carb creator!

--
Pic creds: Mamabear - 1 and 3; GM - 2

Special Ed Special Report

2009-05-11T10:54:00.005-07:00

Setting: Christian Perspectives/Lifeskills Class, a class of five kids with certain challenges where we learn basic life and social lessons, and some stellar biblical principles as well.

The Players: Enrique the Chino, Green Mango (Teachers);
Textbook Asperger's, The Mule, Daydream Believer, Gollum (Students)

TODAY'S LESSON: HOW WE CAN SHOW LOVE TO OUR MOMS

ETC: I show love to my Mom by hugging her and showering her with kisses.
DB:(Interrupting) Awkward. Awwwwwkward.
GM: Why is that so awkward?
DB: (Without irony, as always) Your mom kisses you in the shower?!

--
~g. mango is laughing her way to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ

If the job fits, you must acquit

2009-05-08T15:50:00.007-07:00

I drew this drawring at work today. And I think my subconscious is trying to tell me something, but I am still not sure if this piece is a personal reflection or just further proof of my creative genius.

REAL LIFE DRAWRING

~g. mango is living for the weekend

Me and my Swine Flu strolling down the avenue

2009-05-07T22:49:00.002-07:00

Ever since I came back from Guatemala I've been in an on-again-off-again relationship with some sort of Nonspecific Tropical Mountain Virus. Symptoms include coughing, runny nose, fever, headache, everything else ache, and listlessness.¹ I've had to cancel a few engagements and I even left work early today due to the NTMV. Naturally with the global scare around Swine Flu and Guatemala's proximity to Mexico, I had to find out if I have the Swine Flu.

The Government of Canada website told me if I have a "cold and fever illness" that death was imminent. But the government is famous for fear-mongering. So I checked out Do I Have Swine Flu dot org. I found it very helpful. If you have a cough and fever illness, do your part to self-educate.

~g. mango is preparing for the aporkalypse.

--
1. Hey, did I just make a list? I guess that means I'm listfull again

Salud!

2009-05-06T22:36:00.000-07:00

While searching for the perfect glass beverage dispenser for the vast amounts of exceptionally good lemonade that has been produced and consumed in this household, I stumbled upon the following -- albeit less perfect -- beverage accessories:

Enabling the golf-fanatic who has everything.
And I quote, "Giant Extremely Large Flask."
For the drunk on the go! Why stop to fuel up when you can just tote around this beauty?

In other news, if you would like to participate in the G. Mango Beverage Dispenser Search, you may be repaid in exceptionally good lemonade. I may even throw in a Giant Extremely Large Flask so you can make your lemonade portable!

~g. mango is embracing summer

Special Ed Special Report

2009-05-04T22:00:00.003-07:00

TODAY'S LESSON: WHAT WE CHOOSE SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT WHO WE ARE

ETC: Imagine you are on a journey through the desert for many days. You finally come upon an oasis. What is your first thought?...

Daydream Believer: A waitress?! What is she doing in the desert?

--

ETC:When you finally reach your destination, you enter a building. In that building you go to the kitchen and open a cupboard. What is in that cupboard?

Daydream Believer: (Excitedly and without irony) Girls!

Textbook Asperger's: (Seriously and without irony) A dead body.

ETC: It has to be something you would normally find in a cupboard.

TA: Okay, not a dead body. A tied-up body?

~g.mango reporting for special ed news

Tip of the Day

2009-04-23T17:55:00.002-07:00

When asked by a student for some advice about her loser boyfriend in second block, I penned this drawring.

~g. mango is giver of sage advice and a penner of lovely drawrings

Post-Lent Update

2009-04-20T21:55:00.001-07:00

My Lenten Resolutions were an "epic fail" as the young people call it. Partially because of my trip to Guatemala, but mostly due to my own shameful lack of self-restraint, my resolve to not eat out went right out the window. So too did my promise to not check Facebook at work. In fact, on two occasions I broke both rules on the same day. Shame, shame, double shame.

Upon the end of Lent (and the arrival of Easter!), I decided that I needed to make things right and give Lent another try. Lent 2.0, if you will.¹ But this time I am only focusing on my Facebook Addiction.

It's been going great, thanks for asking. I've made it a week without checking Facebook at all, even when I am not at work. I had forgotten how liberating it is to not have a Facebook Addiction!

And what, you ask so intrusively, have I been doing with all of my new-found free-time? Mostly I have been letting my creative and social side out for a much-needed whateverwordIamsearchingfor.

I wrote the first essay for a distance ed class that I signed up or all the way back in January. And I started the second assignment (a highly emotive personal narrative which made me highly emotional, so I just cut that right out). And I posted three blogs. You gotta love that, right? And I have read good literature.² I went rollerblading for the first time this season.³ And I even filed my taxes. And I've spent hours and hours of time with real.live.people. All in all, I gotta say Lent 2.0 is the way to go.

~g.mango was meant for Lent

--
1. I cannot take credit for coining Lent 2.0. Big ups to the Clown and her Crocodile Tears.

2. See Wrath, Grapes of

3. If you know me well at all, you will know that rollerblading is less of a recreational sport, but more a creative outlet that produces shortness of breath and a damp brow.

Special Ed Special Report

2009-04-17T13:49:00.002-07:00

Welcome to what I hope will be a repeating feature here at Ye Olde Green Mango Log. Here I will recount some of the seemingly unending humourous encounters I have had with the lovely Special Students at my current place of employment.

Setting: Christian Perspectives/Lifeskills Class, a class of five kids with certain challenges where we learn basic life and social lessons, and some stellar biblical principles as well.

The Players: Enrique the Chino, Green Mango (Teachers);
Textbook Aspergers', The Mule, Daydream Believer, Gollum (Students)

Today's Lesson: Advocacy and the Good Samaritan

Enrique the Chino: What is an advocate?
Daydream Believer: (Excitedly and without irony) A cake! A cake! Someone who makes a cake!

--

Green Mango: What is God trying to say to us in the story of the Good Samaritan?
Daydream Believer: (Excitedly and without irony) Make girls happy!

--

GM: Who do you think needed help in the story of the Good Samaritan?
Gollum: Jesus! God!
GM looks quizically at Gollum
Gollum: (Quietly and with less gusto) Jesus? God...?

--

ETC: In the story, who does Jesus say we should love?
Students: Everyone!
The Mule: Except Hobos.

--

Textbook: People in other religions don't believe in God. Except Jews.

~This is g. mango signing off!

Pancreas plea

2009-04-16T18:38:00.003-07:00

After a rather horrifying bike accident, my good friend R-E contracted a case of pancreatisis. As no amount of prodding or poking by the surgeons could convince the organ to function properly, I decided to send her pancreas an email. In rhyming verse, no less. You will find the aforementioned correspondence below.

FROM THE DESK OF G. MANGO

Oh Pancreas, oh Pancreas
I need you like a fish
Needs water and like how
scientists
Need a petri dish

Oh Pancreas, oh Pancreas
You make endocrine
Or insulin and enzymes
Or was that the Spleen?

Oh Pancreas, my Pancreas
I cannot tell a lie
If you insist on being broke
I think that I may die

So Pancreas, dear Pancreas
I hope you can agree
To do what you're meant to
And quit hurting sweet R-E

Sincerely,

G. Mango

Things that I am giving up for Lent 2009

2009-02-26T19:51:00.004-08:00

Since I was so successful last year in my Lent-induced self-discipline, I believe I should continue the tradition of giving thing up for Lent.¹ Here’s what I’m working on abstaining from this Lenten season:

My two favourite cardinal sins:

sloth
gluttony

Eating out.² (See gluttony)

Checking Facebook during work hours.³ (See sloth)

--

Also, because I don’t believe in setting the bar too high for myself, I have authored another Lenten List

VICES THAT I AM EMBRACING FOR LENT 2009.

Obsessive cuddling

Français langue seconde

Recreational pancake consumption

Footnoting footnotes

~g.mango is full of lists (and pancakes)

--
¹ Can you believe I've been cable-and-Backgammon-free for a whole year?!

² Streetmeat not included. Also, I am mostly abstaining from eating out to stand in solidarity with Julie Anna.⁴

³ This should be made easier by the fact that Spring Break is falling right in the middle of Lent, and I will consequently find myself in a remote internet-less village in Guatemala (making both "work hours" and "Facebook checkage" a non-issue for two whole weeks.

⁴ But also to coax my bank account back into the black. After all, it is Black History Month.⁵

⁵ And as a halfrican, I'd like to wish you all a Happy Negro-Appreciation Month!

Reasons not to date me

2009-01-26T20:51:00.002-08:00

My first celebrity crush, at five years-old, was Tom Selleck. (Or more accurately, Magnum PI.)

I am unnaturally good at word games, and will school you without shame.

I try to avoid playing games that are picture-based, and when I do play them, I am often in a sour mood on account of my terrific ability to lose. Every. Single. Time.

I think carbon offsets are dumb, but social and environmental responsibility are rad!

Typewriters? Also rad.

The word rad? Lame. Dated. And an essential part of my vernacular.

I get a lot of satisfaction when my dentist compliments my flossing habits.

Children's Lit is my favourite kind of lit. I only read Grown-up Lit if it is exceptionally well-written, or if it will teach me something new.

I will read picture books to you at the most inopportune times.

I end lists abruptly.

~g. mango is rad to the bone

Better late than never

2009-01-02T11:24:00.009-08:00

Dear Santa,

I have been very good this year. I brushed my teeth almost everyday, except for Tuesdays, and flossed on alternate Fridays. I have been very diligent in sharing (especially my cold germs and left –wing ideas.).* One time I let an old man have my seat on the bus, but that’s mostly because I thought I had to get off at the next stop. It turns out I didn’t have to get off until four stops down the line. But when I asked for my seat back, he didn’t want to give it up. (Please give him coal for Christmas).*

I left some black cake and sorrel for you on the table and some high fibre reindeer pellets for the boys on the roof. If you want anything else you can rummage around in my Dad’s top drawer. That’s where he keeps all his candy (and his harmonicas, too.)*

Please note that if you brought any of my sister's presents here that she is in Korea. Not the bad Korea with the Great Leader, the good Korea with the All Right Leader. She may not have been able to send you her Christmas list because she is so busy teaching English to starving children in Africa. So just in case you don’t know, she would like some almond butter, some fudge, a word puzzle, some prophylactics, and a lash in her tail. Anything else you can think of? Anyway, I need some gloves and a new ribbon for my typewriter.** I am much less greedy than my sister. In fact, please give her coal for Christmas as well.

Please note that my two useless teenage sisters, who are sleeping down the hall, have chosen not to write you a letter or set out any snacks for you. Again, I suggest coal.

Love,

Green Mango

* See below.

** (Also a grammar book would be nice so I can find out if I should close brackets before or a after a period).)

Marital Difficulties

2008-12-14T20:44:00.003-08:00

This week our Member of Parliament sent three letters to my roommate. My roommate (who I might add) only lives here three days a week. Can you believe it? She got a love letter for every day she was here.

And I (a faithful defender of the NDP, and more-or-less permanent resider in an NDP riding) went expectantly to the mailbox everyday, and got a whole lotta nothing. The audacity of some people. Least she could do was show a mango a little love.

~g.mango is having the green-eyed monster over for a bowl of organic chicken soup and contemplating voting for the conservatives*

---
*Aha! Now that would be the day!

Rent-a-Rag

2008-12-09T19:56:00.004-08:00

In response to a friend's recent sexual activation and consequent trepidations:

Haven't had your period in two months? Think you might be pregnant? Why not Rent-a-Rag?! Sign up for our month-by-month rate and you can have MY period for less than a dollar a day! That's right, for less the the cost of a cup of coffee a day . . .

~ g.mango is fresh as a prince on a ghetto spring day

In these times of economic turmoil

2008-11-25T06:38:00.002-08:00

I just paid 86.4 cents/litre for gas! In Vancouver. Can you believe it? I haven't seen prices this low since. . . well, ever. When I first came here in 2003 cheap gas was 99.9.

I hate to say it, but I sure do love this recession.

~if this keeps up, g.mango may one day be able to own a house

My Christmas wish list

2008-11-20T23:23:00.004-08:00

Or things that I used to end the phrase "Man, I need . . ." in the past week?

Jesus
Jesus in my life right now
Jesus to come back
some new shoes
a loonie
someone to rub my back
a break
a miracle
a Coke
a bathroom posthaste

~g.mango is anon

--
Answer Key

Man, I need: 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 9, 10
Christmas list: 4
Both: 6, 7

I just can't get enough

2008-10-30T22:28:00.002-07:00

Our elections are never this entertaining.

Teen Moms for Palin PG13 (Grammar)

Go look it up, I'm tellin' you. 14A (Language)

~g.mango is a bleeding heart liberal with cheese

I do not live in the United States

2008-10-24T10:33:00.002-07:00

But I am a little bit interested in their election.

It's President Palin, to you bud.

American Demographic.

You are not a douchenozzle, are you? PG 13 for language

~g. mango cannot confirm or deny those allegations

Reasons not to date me

2008-09-30T21:18:00.002-07:00

My self-worth is directly connected to the number of comments I receive on my blog.

I am not nearly as funny in real life as my writing would lead you to believe.

I get my best ideas for writing from reading Craigslist or daydreaming in the shower.

Combine my daydreaming and my shoddy short-term memory, and it means I often forget which parts of me I've soaped up, prompting me to soap-up multiple times when I bathe.*

I use bathe (v) and shower (v) interchangeably.

This is the first time in four years, and only the second time in my life, that I have had to work a five-day work week. Even including all those times when I had two jobs.

I am exhausted.

~g. man. . . zzzzzz

--

*The good thing about multiple soaps is that I'm extra clean. The bad thing is that I use enough water to power a small city in my twenty-minute shower every morning. Representatives from Greenpeace have threatened to come to my apartment and chain themselves to my shower-head. But even that won't dissuade me from my long showers. They'll have to pry the soap shrapnel from my cold, wet hands!

In a pickle

2008-09-25T21:25:00.007-07:00

In case you were wondering what a young, happening mango in her early late-twenties does in the long pauses between posts, here's a sample of my latest work.

Sweet pickles are one of my favourite fall treats. Saving money is one of my favourite year-round activities. So I combined the two and made my own sweet pickles. Come over and we can crack open a jar!

That is all.

~g. mango is a silly little pickle (0:32)

Tradesies!

2008-09-08T16:08:00.008-07:00

I have never really been a fan of the North American Free Trade Agreement until very recently. It seems a bit suspicious when a giant, knuckle-headed bully wants to strike a deal on the playground with the scrawny math geek. Imagine that conversation.

--
Outside a school, near a playground.

GKB: Hey twerp. How 'bout a knuckle sandwich?*
SMG: Uh. . .

GKB grabs SMG by the collar

SMG: PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! I'll do anything!
GKB: Anything? I know how 'bout we make a deal?
SMG: Yes, absolutely.
GKB: I won't punch you in the face if you'll do my math homework for the rest of the year. Everybody wins.
SMG: Wait, you won't punch me in the face right now, or today, or ever?
GKB: Yes.
SMG: Which one is it?

GKB pulls SMG closer, and gives a menacing look.

SMG: (Exasperated) Okay, fine, it's a deal.
GKB: It's been a pleasure doing business with you.

GKB winds up and plants one on SMG's face.
SMG lands on the ground in a daze.
Exit GKB
End scene.

Next Scene

SMG sits at a desk in his poorly lit room, with a black eye, working diligently on two sets of math assignments. . .
--

And that's pretty much how it's been with Canada and the US (and Mexico, remember them?). NAFTA was supposed to be a mutually-beneficial thinger dinger. But, not surprisingly, the US always comes out on top. And when the US decides something isn't right, it turns into a petulant child -- or possibly a sumo wrestler. Either way, there is a lot of weight being thrown around and lots of political tantrums and sooner or later somebody loses a softwood lumber industry.

And what does poor, little Canada do? Not much. We get our sweater vests in a knot, cry foul, and keep trading our resources away. Not the bravest math geeks in the bunch, the Canucks. Which is probably why the US picked us to partner up with in the first place.

But this fall all that is going to change. For once there is the possibility for a trade that would be truly mutually-beneficial. As both countries are in the midst of preparing to go to the polls, there is something we can do to make Americans happy and Canadians ecstatic.

I'm proposing trading Stephen Harper for Barack Obama.

It's no secret that Stephen Harper has been playing by the Republican rule book since before he was elected Canadian Prime Minister. In fact, he's better at it than the real Republicans are. McCain is an all right presidential candidate, but he's a little on the moderate side for the staunch right-wingers. And he's kind of homely. Stephen Harper is a Conservative's Conservative. And he's easy on the eyes. Sort of. Plus, even the most generous predictions for the Canadian elections have Harper scrounging up just enough votes for another minority government. But you can bet that he'll boost Republican votes with his pro-war, anti-gay, fiscally conservative despotism.

As for Obama, he's beginning to lose popularity south of the border. But I've seen more Obama '08 bumper stickers 'round these parts than I've seen for any Canadian politician in recent memory. Obama currently has more Canadian supporters than the Liberals and the NDP combined.** The people have spoken. Give us Barack. We don't want Harper back.

~g. mango is bam! right in the kisser.

--
* Knuckle sandwich? When was this confrontation going down, anyway? 1954?
**According to an informal poll conducted be the G. Mango Research Group of the people currently in my apartment at press time.

Reasons not to date me

2008-09-03T20:42:00.006-07:00

I will unfriend you immediately and without question if you are over the age of 18 and use OMG or LOL in any form of written communication with me.

I will excommunicate you for life (no matter what your age) if you use OMG or LOL in oral communication. Unless you do it ironically; in which case I will just look at you with contempt and call you a hipster.

I harbour no ill-will against those who use FYI or btw.

I am a hypocrite.*

I only have a vague idea of what bandwidth is, but I know I will be angry if you steal mine.

~g. mango looks just like buddy holly and you are mary tyler moore trying to t'ief my internet signal

--
*I mean with the OMG and the FYI thing, not in general. Although if you do a thorough investigation, who knows what you'll dig up?

Job Postings

2008-09-03T13:45:00.004-07:00

Conservative Christian School seeks Left-wing Green Mango to challenge dress code and subvert fundamentalist curriculum. Must love kids.

About you: You are willing to quietly question my theology and tend to my kids (I have 1400 of them between the ages of 12-18). You are genuinely interested in both education and teenagers. You are also cool and calm in the face of adversity and are not one to make a spectacle of yourself or my kids. You can do high school French in your sleep, and can remember how to calculate the volume of a cylinder. You look dashing in sweater vests and are thinking about starting to sport a faux-hawk. However, you can be gender normative when the board members visit. Because you know how to keep your skeletons in the closet where they belong.

About me: Probably not nearly as bad as this ad makes me out to be. I'm just a regular independent school, full of rich kids who need cool adults who value them just as much as the poor kids you are used to working with do. So get over yourself, put on a sweater vest and meet me in the suburbs tomorrow morning at 8!

~g. mango is the ~~best~~ newest TA this side of the Canadian Bible Belt

Reasons not to date me

2008-08-08T12:33:00.007-07:00

Surprise! I have a day off the island! Huzzah! Internet access is always a reason to celebrate! And what better way than with a hastily-put-together list of reasons not to date your favourite mango?

Reasons Schmeasons!

I hate using little pieces of soap in the shower, so when my bar gets too small for comfort, I just leave it sitting in the soap dish and open a new one.

I never mush all the discarded soap pieces into a big bar, so I've accumulated quite a large collection of soap shrapnel.

I prefer the ocean to swimming pools.

I have been living on a beautiful island all summer and have yet to go in the ocean.

I'm always cold in the daytime.

I'm always hot in the nighttime.

Hot or cold, I will cuddle you within an inch of your life.

As a rule, I don't eat beef.

As a rule, I don't follow rules. (This doesn't usually end well for me if I break the beef one).

~g.mango is four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie

Rainy days and vacays always get me down

2008-08-04T10:52:00.004-07:00

Like I said, it rained almost all week. So the Intern and I had to change most of our plans.

Instead of tubing down the Cowichan River, we memorized the first fit of The Hunting of the Snark.*

Instead of driving to a scenic little town to check out their famous used bookstore,** we saw Mama Mia. Which, by the way, you should see right now. Don't even finish reading this post, it will be right here when you return. Go on, I'll wait.

Instead of going to see an outdoor performance of Much Ado about Nothing, we sat home and did mostly nothing.

Instead of having a big sunny barbecue, we had a big rainy barbecue. And I, being the designated griller of the two of us, developed a wicked case of pneumonia.***

Oh, yeah and we also went to a United Church for the first time, where the preacher informed us, much to my chagrin, that Jesus was not, in fact, magic. And we ended up taking in another Shakespeare play, though I can't for the life of me tell you what it was about. And we pretended we were tourists and took in the sights downtown. And we ate lots of street meat (which we later regretted). And we went to the outdoor symphony. And we picked the perfect spot to see the fireworks, which we still managed to have to strain to see through the trees.

And now I am off to the Little Island again, where I will have no internet, but many adventures. Check back in a few weeks for more.

~g.mango is a lean, green, grilling machine!

--
* We are so awesome!
** We are such nerds!
*** No, I did not.

The Two Plagues

2008-08-04T10:26:00.004-07:00

I've been off the Little Island (LI), and on the Big Island for about a week now. And I gotta say, the six hours of public transit and ferries trips it took to get here notwithstanding, it sure has been a great surprise vacation. And, of course, I have neglected to tell you, my deserving public, about it. I intend to remedy that right now.

It all started on a dark and stormy night sometime last week on the LI. The air was still, the moon was shining, and twenty-five people in the surrounding cabins were violently vomiting the night away. So the next day all who were able to stand bleached the whole place down, and the rest of us struggled mightily to call out "Unclean, unclean," as we ran to the toilettes and begged at the city gates. Then they evacuated half of the island and sent us all home to either recuperate and/or avoid disease and/or infect our loved ones.

But as I have hired my apartment out to a stranger, and had planned to be on the Big Island for the long weekend anyway, I decided to skip Vancouver and head straight to Victoria (enter the six hours of public transit, plus a ride from Mama Bear et al, and a pick up from the Intern on the other side).

The Intern and I had great plans for our week off. Which is why, I'm sure, it rained all week long. At least it wasn't locusts.

~g.mango, what's your twenty?

Letters to Vancouver

2008-07-14T19:59:00.002-07:00

FROM THE DESK OF G. MANGO

Dearest Vancouver,

Give me a break already. What have I ever done to you? Except for that time in 2002 when I said Toronto was way better than you, and that your mountains were kinda lame. But I was young and foolish, and that was before we were well-acquainted with each other. And I have apologized countless times for it. I know for a fact that you still have that cute little apology card I made for you stuck to the front of your fridge with a magnet that says "Go West, young mango."

So let's just call it even, and you can let me know at least some kind of stable success while I live in your borders. Or else I might have to move to Calgary. And you don't want that to happen, now do you?

Sincerely,

G. Mango

More of the Change

2008-07-14T06:35:00.004-07:00

Here's a little taste of what I've been doing with my life.

Left the soulless temp job where I got detention for being late.

Temporarily relieved myself of my little white car, Snowball, in protest of the ridiculous, ever-increasing cost of the juice to make her go.

Sublet* my loverly apartment to a relative stranger.

Moved to a small island of the coast of BC to get paid to play on a tire swing, tell stories, and go to the skate park with Mama Bear's two little girls for a couple hours a day.

Wondered how I overlooked the fact that this small island has no internet access, shops, roads, or other coloured folk when I agreed to take the job.

Cut my losses, and called it a cross-cultural learning-experience.

Flew to Toronto for one of my weeks off, supposedly to surprise my sister for her birthday, but mostly for the plentiful internet access and coloured folk.

And you?

~ g.mango loves watching two-year olds on skateboards.

--
* What is the past tense of sublet? Sublot? Sublight?

Reasons not to date me

2008-06-26T19:38:00.007-07:00

I think scrambled eggs are legitimate dinner fare.

I am certifiably bilingual, and yet still hesitant to speak French within earshot of a francophone.*

I am unable to resist manhandling the produce at the each of countless markets on my walk home from the train station.

Inexplicably and without trying to, I will remember the make and model of the car you drive before I know you well enough to warrant such a thing.

I do not own a bike helmet.

I do not own a bike.

I wouldn't wear a helmet anyway.

I fantasize about ~~shooting~~ relocating the birds that sing cheerily outside my window at 4 am every morning.

Despite being intimate with unemployment, I never seem to qualify for employment insurance.

Despite having been a child when their best work came out, my most recent music downloads include songs by Naughty by Nature, Young MC, and Skee-Lo.

I'm down with OPP.

I wish I was a little bit taller.

I wish I was a baller.

I wish I could sing that song without thinking about how someone should have introduced Skee-Lo to the subjunctive tense.

~g. mango souhaite qu'elle ait pu se souvenir comment parler francais (et aussi ou se trouver les accents sur le clavier)*
--
* You can see why i am so terrified to speak French; I don't even know if that sentence makes sense. Yeesh.

Long weekend blues

2008-06-03T16:20:00.003-07:00

Is there a long weekend in your near future? Great. I hope you enjoy it. Well, the beginning part, at least. Because it will end badly. I guarantee you.

You will travel for five hours across land and sea, stopping (of course) to buy a typewriter on the way home. You will foolishly pick up a hundred-year-old typewriter and carry it up four flights of stairs the same week you get into a car accident. Your back will hate you for life. You will find that you have not one, but two keys to the outside of your building on your keychain. And not one, but NONE to your actual suite.

You will also find that your roommate is not coming home until tomorrow night; your neighbour gave you back your spare key last year, remember?; your best friend who would have offered you a place on his futon, and helped you see the humour in all this has moved to Slovakia; and your other friends are all out of town because, hey, IT'S A LONG WEEKEND.

You will also find that you have to lug all your belongings back down the stairs with your hateful back hating you all the way. You will get your hand stuck in, and subsequently cut yourself on your newly-acquired, rust-covered typographical device. You will remember (surprisingly and suddenly) that your tetanus shot expired last year, and you will know that tomorrow morning, after a night of sleeping in your compact car in your crime-ridden neighbourhood, you will have a gangrenous stump where you once had a finger.

Then you will call Lisa, and she will extend the radical welcome of Christ to you, and offer you clean linens and the most comfortable couch known to mangokind.

Just want you to be prepared.

~g.mango is an alarmist and a prophetess all in one

Textual healing

2008-06-02T22:21:00.004-07:00

I bought three typewriters the week before last. I think that may be two typewriters too many for a one-person household.

Might even be three typewriters too many. But I'd rather not dwell on that.

If you're free, come over and we can write letters together! On real paper. And send them to people through this thing they call "the post." I'm not really familiar with it, but apparently it was all the rage before 1996.

ALSO

I made this button.

I think it is the radest thing I've made all week.

~g.mango laughs in the face of technological advances

Never send a man to do a girl's job

2008-05-09T14:21:00.007-07:00

Oh, hello. Are you still here? I thought you'd left. What's that you say? You thought I'd left?

Naw.

I, for one, have been very busy dressing up like an old man so I can play shuffle board and boccie ball without being ostracized, and enjoying the spoils from the deli meat factory outlet store that I found. Hungarian salami for $1.69/100 g! I am in deli meat factory outlet heaven. Either that, or they are classin' up purgatory real good these days. Probably trying to attract more tourists.

ALSO

Yesterday I asked my friend, Little Jon, to help me change my windshield wipers. The result proves that feminine finesse is better than boyish brute strength. And as they say, a picture -- like a Canadian dollar -- is worth a million and a half US dollars, so I present you with more money (and punctuation marks) than you will ever know what to do with:

The one on the left is mine. After twenty minutes of trying, Jon produced the one on the right.

Yes, yes y'all.

~ is it just g. mango, or is it really hot for purgatory in the spring?

Best thing/Worst thing

2008-04-05T16:04:00.008-07:00

THE WORST THING

Getting a paper cut in your eye. Or, possibly, violence against the innocent. Or being sick. One of those three.

THE BEST THING

Bathtime!

THE BEST THING ABOUT BATHTIME

Bath Crayons!

WHAT I REMEMBER ABOUT NOT BEING SICK AND/OR HOW IT MUST FEEL TO HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY TO STAND IN THE SHOWER FOR TEN MINUTES

Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows!

Sick and Tired

2008-04-03T16:08:00.007-07:00

I (half) remember reading one of Gordon Korman's Bruno and Boots books wherein Boots (or possibily Bruno) explains that the best way to get out of class is to declare that you are siiiiiiiiick. With nine I's. It's not too many to make it seem that you are feigning illness (even though you probably are), and not so few that your authority figure of choice just dismisses you as the poser that you are.

Well, today I am siiiiiiiiick. My head is currently clocking in at 45 psi. Unless I hold it at a 76 degree angle, then I feel just fine. Except for the crick in my neck.

My tastebuds are refusing to acknowledge all but the most basic of flavours: my tea tastes like water; my Coke tastes like 16 tablespoons of sugar dissolved in 355 mL of acid; my wheat thins taste neither wheaty, nor thin (they taste salty and a bit sharp).

I have so many drugs in my system that I could likely walk through a plate-glass window without noticing. My apartment looks like the hideout of a tissue serial killer. My nose runneth over. And I have subjected myself to six steam baths in the last 24 hours. So if you are currently experiencing a water-shortage, it's probably my fault. But I can't help it, I'm siiiiiiiiick.

~g.mango will be fine in the morning

Reasons not to date me

2008-03-31T20:10:00.005-07:00

Chances are at whatever time you are reading this, day or night, my underwear is showing.

I was totally serious about that leg hair thing.

I am allergic to the following:

raw apples, peaches, pears, plums, apricots, nectarines, cherries, carrots, almonds
cats (raw or otherwise)
artificial food colouring
Spring
vacuuming

I often forget that I am allergic to most of the above until it is too late.

I have freakishly long appendages, and almost no torso to speak of. If I were a grasshopper, I'd look ridiculous.*

I haven't posted a drawring in ages.

I am prone to the overuse of parentheses. (See below).

~sgm seeks team of hair removal specialist for LTR, must have own tools

--
*As it is, I am a human being (not a highly intelligent mango as I have led you to believe), and I still look ridiculous. But unlike a grasshopper (or a mango), I can create the illusion of having a somewhat normal torso-to-leg-proportionality with cunning use of extra-long rib-knit tanks.** I've given up on trying to disguise my orangutan arms, and have just taken to wearing knuckle guards so I don't get too scraped up.

**And yet my underwear still manages to reveal itself over the top of my pants. This is a mystery to me.

Missed Connections

2008-03-30T21:17:00.002-07:00

You: Sunday afternoon nap in my unbelievably comfortable bed.

Me: Sleep-deprived mango on a spontaneous walk with two girlfriends. I am miserable without you. Let's try again next week? E-mail me if you see this.

~g. mango is looking forward to the sweet, sweet bed-head

Global Warming is broken

2008-03-28T09:28:00.003-07:00

Global Warming has been cancelled this week.

Yesterday it hailed in Vancouver. Today it is expected to snow. I am about to embark on a journey to the grocery store in two-degree weather. In Vancouver. At the end of March. And this after walking around in shorts and a t-shirt in February, the spring wind blowing through my leg hair and upsetting my bowl of organic, communist granola.

Please write your MPs.

~g.mango is layering up like an onion

How to Fill those Unending Hours: A Guide to Productive Unemployment

2008-03-11T16:50:00.003-07:00

Learn how to do things by yourself. Now that you're unemployed, you have tonnes of time on your hands. Your friends, God bless them, are still happily employed and likely won't be able to skip their weekly staff meeting to play mini golf on Wednesday morning. You can still hang out with them in the evenings if you haven't tired yourself out with all the exciting one-on-none activities you have crammed into your day.

Go to all those places you always wished you could go, but never had time to when you had a job. Best case scenario: everything you always wanted to do doesn't cost any money. 'Cause let's face it, it's not like you're bringing in anything that could be classified as an income (even in jest). For future reference the Science Centre, IMAX Theatre, neighbourhood comedy club, and community centre photography class all cost money. It would be wise to avoid these. Try the library, or the mental hospital.

Spend time with your pets! You've neglected them for so long. Now's a great time to start walking your dog twelve times a day. Don't have a pet? Beg, borrow, or steal one. I was out of town this weekend, so I improvised and contracted some bed bugs. They aren't fuzzy and furry like a puppy, but they sure are friendly. Why, one of them "kissed" me thirty times during my two hour nap. I had a nasty reaction to those kisses and am now covered in golf-ball sized pustules and vesicles. But the doctor has me on a lovely drug cocktail to counter the symptoms, and at least I got some quality time in with some of nature's lesser creatures.

Cry. Cry yourself to sleep. Cry when you are sending out resumes. Cry when you are playing mini golf by yourself for the third week in a row. Cry when your are in the library reading self-help books that you are too embarrassed to check out in case your friends ever happen to remember you exist and come over one day after work for water and ramen noodles. Cry because you are covered in giant, red blotches that make you irritable, and unpresentable even if someone were to actually call you in for an interview.
Write some lists.

~g. mango is overdue for an after dinner drug cocktail

Further reasons not to date me

2008-02-11T20:46:00.000-08:00

I have the attention span of a grapefruit.

I have the heart of a lion. I bought it in Chinatown for $14.

I might be arrested for aggravated assault the next time I hear the words "female" or "male" used as nouns.

I listen to Prince, Ella, and Timbaland without even so much as one ounce of shame.

I ain't got no money.

I ain't got no car to take you on a date.

Can't even buy you flowers.

~g.mango is your perfect soul mate

Things that I am giving up for Lent 2008

2008-02-06T22:19:00.000-08:00

Today is the start of the Lenten season. And though I am not Catholic, and was not raised in the tradition of abstaining during Lent, I quite enjoy archaic self-deprivation rituals. Also, it's all the rage in hipster cirlces, and God knows I want an in with those hipsters.

So I give you the things that I am giving up for Lent:

Unemployment. Again. Let's see if it works this time.
Cable television. Not because it's a vice, but because I am paying $50 a month for shows I can watch on Youtube for free.
Backgammon. That game makes no sense.

~g.mango is our lady of perpetual sarcasm

Pancake Tuesday

2008-02-05T16:07:00.000-08:00

Hey. It's Pancake Tuesday.* Did you know? Of course you knew. And I knew, too, so I made some Pancake Tuesday Pancakes and cinammon-lime syrup. I love Pancake Tuesday Pancakes, and not just because they have the word "pancake" in their name twice.

But I might have gotten a little carried away, 'cause I made entirely too many pancakes than are necessary for the nutritional needs of a single mango.

Happy Pancaking to you!

~g.mango is increasing her pancake consumption to get fat enough for fat tuesday

--
*It's also Super Tuesday, which some would have you believe has something to do with American politics, but really it's called that on account of all the pancakes.

Love potion No. 9

2008-01-18T13:27:00.000-08:00

The boy that I had a crush on in grade six looked just like Bobby Brown in Every Little Step.

My tastes have been refined since then, but I'm still a sucker for a Gumby fade.

~g.mango is a dream come true, a real life fantasy

Pop Quiz

2008-01-14T18:12:00.000-08:00

Which of the following is NOT true:

a) I just scored 51 points with the word "chest" in Scrabulous

b) I finally made good on my threat to my mentally unstable PC and replaced it with a Mac

c) I have moved back to Toronto without telling any of my friends on either side of the Rockies

d) The US is doing a lame job of counter-spinning its attempts to start something with Iran

e) C is for cookie

--
Answer: c

So everyone hold your horses, cool your jets, relax yourselves, and stop sending me panicky emails about my total lack of respect for our friendship. Yeesh.

I love you all. And though I am still in Toronto, I haven't moved anywhere. Quit reading all the celebrity gossip about me, and trust that I might make some sort of announcement if I were to move three thousand miles away. I even make announcements when I move thirteen blocks down the road. Or across the street.

I'll keep you posted on my job situation in the next little while. Oh, did I not mention that I am unemployed again? Surprise! More later.

~ a rolling stone gathers no gossip

You heard it here first

2007-12-31T09:45:00.000-08:00

Two thousand and eight is the Year of the Mango. Yep. I am claiming good luck; good lovin'; prosperity; wisdom; and year-long, steady, enjoyable employment.

What are you claiming for the next year?

~if g.mango can name it, she can claim it!

An open letter the women in my life

2007-12-05T20:22:00.000-08:00

FROM THE DESK OF GREEN MANGO

Hey ladies,

Your mustaches look just fine.

Regards,

G. Mango

~g.mango: offering equal-opportunity criticism since 1476

An open letter to the men in my life

2007-11-29T10:26:00.000-08:00

FROM THE DESK OF GREEN MANGO

Dear you all,

I know November is mustache month.

But you look ridiculous. Please shave that thing off.

Regards,

G. Mango

~g.mango: in favour of baby-face boys since 1854

Ten words whose definition and proper spelling often allude me / Ten words that I am dying to use in a single paragraph in my new children's book

2007-11-21T13:10:00.000-08:00

pedantic
magnanimous
hossenfeffer
stymied
perspicacious
pulchritude
petulant
precocious
dilatory
elude

~g. mango should get to work on Percy the Petulant Penguin

Reasons Not to Date Me (v. 2.0)

2007-10-27T00:02:00.000-07:00

1. I cannot assemble IKEA furniture without adult supervision and/or constant encouragement.

2. I get sad when it rains, and I live in a rain forest.

3. I mercilessly judge people who have a tenuous grasp of (on?) punctuation or grammar.

4. I answer my cell phone when I am out with other people.

5. I like lists. A lot. Especially bulleted ones.

6. I am too short to reach the top shelf.

7. I am too tall for these jeans.

8. I have an astonishing propensity to forget things.

9. I am dsylexic.

10. I just misspelled dyslexic.

~sgm seeks charming dyslexic for long wakls on the beach

I'm struggling mightily

2007-10-24T15:56:00.000-07:00

With hyphens today.

Also sentence fragments.

~ "newly-employed twenty-five- year-old g. mango", right? or is it "newly-employed-twenty-five-year-old-g.mango---"?

Ain't that the truth

2007-10-17T22:09:00.000-07:00

Today was my first day at the intership. I realize that I have yet to say anything substantial about this new postion, but that is not for lack of effort. I wrote a whole witty, involved post about the internship the other day. But then my computer crashed. So you got nothing, I got a headache, and the computer got threatened to be replaced with a Mac. And now I am all out of wit, so indulge me as I lay before you a bulleted list.

INTERSHIP: A BULLETED LIST IN ONE ACT

Working as the Publishing Intern for Canadian publishing house that puts out many fantastic books, including a series about a boy wizard, which is supposedly quite popular.
Officially part-time until the end of December, with the possibility of a full-time extension.
As far as I can tell from the first day, involves a whole heck of a lot of reading, summarizing, critiquing, and editing potentially publishable material.
Focuses on works of Adult Non-Fiction and, my personal favourite, Children's Lit.
Could be the start of a wonderful friendship. Or, an enjoyable career.
Is clear across town and involved an hour and a half commute this evening.
Has a Coke machine in the lunchroom.

I think that covers the most important points. Especially the part about the Coke machine. But I am happy to answer questions as they arise.

~ g. mango was born with a green spoon in her mouth

Placatory "Drawring"

2007-10-01T09:42:00.000-07:00

Contrary to popular belief and interweb chatter, I did not forget to make or post a drawring. What I did forget is that since the Great Computer Crash of 2007,*^ I lost all my programs with which to create a drawring. So my attempts to make a celebratory digital masterpiece were in vain. Instead, here's a lino stamp that I made on Friday night. It has nothing to do with the internship, but I know you visual types have been starved for a drawring.

A LINO "DRAWRING"

The Redefinition of Drawring

~g. mango had a drawring, and you had none

--
* Did I forget to tell you about that too?

^ Let us take a moment of silence to mourn all of my files. And another moment to wonder at my bad judgment in double-footnoting one piece of information. This is the kind of thing that would make me lose all respect for a writer; as is the fact that this footnote is as long as a standard paragraph. The possible misuse of the semi-colon above doesn't help either. But you can't lose respect for me, because I made you a drawring.

Ponies for everyone!

2007-09-25T21:59:00.001-07:00

I got the internship!

Oh, did I not tell you about that? Sorry. Tried to keep this one on the down low in case, as in the past, I told the whole wide internet and ended up with a whole lotta eggs and no chicks in my basket. But I suspect you were still praying and/or sending out positive hippie vibes out into the atmosphere. 'Cause you're cool like that. A pony for you and your household!

And a nap for me and my foot (which is now in the door)!

I might also post a drawring tomorrow. You know, to celebrate. But, then again, I might forget.

~g. mango is printed on recycled paper

Tell me, have you seen 'em?

2007-09-04T12:05:00.000-07:00

I can't find my keys. I know they are around here somewhere. Because I am around here and there's no way in here except by use of the aforementioned keys.

I am not the kind of person who loses things easily. I probably lose things about as often as the average person does. Unfortunately, I do suffer from about sixteen times more short term memory loss than the average person.* I can't remember what I had for breakfast, or who my grade twelve math teacher was, or the plot of any of the movies I've seen recently, or the names of the characters in the book I am reading, or -- it seems -- where I put my keys.

My early-onset senility makes it so that when I do manage to misplace something, I cannot manage to retrace my steps to figure out where I put it. And not enjoying the panic that comes upon me when I cannot locate important possessions, I always put The-Things-I-Need-When-I Leave-the-House in the same place, in the same order from front door to bed, every night when I come home from work.

My keys go in my shoe (don't ask). My iPod gets plugged into the computer. My wallet goes on the dresser. My watch goes on the night table. My cellphone gets plugged in on the other side of the bed. And then I hop in the shower and go to bed. When I awake the next morning, I just run through the list in the opposite order, right from bed to keys.

But yesterday morning when I went to go through the list, something went awry. I tumbled out of bed and had a satisfyingly myopic shower; my cellphone was even plugged in right where it was supposed to be. But my watch was not on the night stand. In its stead was the iPod, which should have been plugged into the computer. My watch turned out to be in my wallet's place on the dresser. And my wallet was in my shoe. The most logical place then for my keys would be in the iPod's place by the computer. However, I am staring at the computer right now and, if you can believe it, there are no keys plugged into it.

Perhaps I should spend more time searching for my keys and less time telling you all about it.

~g. mango is blaming it on the boogie

--
*This condition hasn't been diagnosed by a medical professional, but I am sure it's accurate. Once, I made an appointment to get it checked out, but I forgot to go.

Feelings, nothing more than feelings

2007-08-02T23:06:00.000-07:00

I have too many feelings tonight. This, coupled with an acute craving for a coke and a family-sized bag of Miss Vicki's sea salt and vinegar kettle chips, and an ever-shifting body temperature (current state: higher than seasonal temperature with a low pressure system moving up from the mid-west), has led me to one conclusion: I am pregnant. Or, more likely, I am menopausal. Or, even more likely, I have PMS. But who's to know? The symptoms are so similar.

Don't worry, Mom,* I'm probably not pregnant. Probably. I mean, unless pregnancy is the root cause of run-on sentences and careless over-use of adjectival modifiers. And sentence fragments.

I better quit before the comma, splices start.

~g. mango: hero without a clause

--
*Also, don't get too excited, Dad. There are no grandbabies in your immediate future.

Coveting:

2007-07-25T22:44:00.001-07:00

This shirt.

Also, this one.

Ahahahaha.

In addition, this was actually true of my last employment situation.

If you were hoping for a real post, I will have to write one when I am not so sleepy and ill-prepared to construct cohesive sentences.

~g. mango's call is very important to us, please stay on the line

Job Update

2007-07-16T15:26:00.001-07:00

THE GOOD NEWS

I really like this coffee shop job (CSJ). It's stress-free and fun. And I get to be as social as I want, generally without that people-overload feeling you get when you are in relationship-based jobs like I've been in the past. I will have to tell you all my funny stories one of these days.

THE OTHER NEWS

I didn't get the other job. At this point is anyone surprised? Anyone at all?

~g. mango is made of 100% recycled materials

Overheard at the beach

2007-07-06T11:08:00.000-07:00

Three scantly-clad teenage girls are laying on the hot sand perusing some photograph-saturated celebrity magazines.

SCTG1: Umm, what does ornate mean?
SCTG2: (Looks bewildered)
SCT3: (With great confidence) It means cluttered.
SCT2: But not in a bad way. In a totally good way.

Oh my word. Perhaps if adolescents read real literature with real words the world would be a better place.

~g.mango is half the battle. the other half is cake.

So good to see you again

2007-07-03T16:01:00.000-07:00

WELCOME BACK

My dear, loverly sunshine and all the dry Vancouver heat you bring with you. I love Vancouver summers.

All my homies who jetted off for the long weekend. You missed a weekend of hot sun, cool jazz, and general merriment. And fireworks. Which you could have totally seen from my balcony if you were in town.

Gainful employment and the warm fuzzy feelings I have when I am out in the real world interacting with real people. Oh, did I forget to mention I started work this week? Not real work, just a coffee shop job. But, you know, I like it. True, I do start at work at an hour when the only other people who are awake in the city are nursing mothers and other baristas. But, who can complain? It just means that I can effectively go to work with my sleepy eyes on and no one will care or even notice until a good three hours into my shift when the rest of the world starts to stir. Brilliant.

Real employment opportunities. Tune in next week to see if I got the job I've been interviewing for over the past few weeks.

~g. mango owes you a pony. well, maybe half a pony. you'll get the other half if i get this other job.

Unemployment is a four letter word

2007-06-26T11:02:00.000-07:00

Or at least it is today. Welcome to my first non-unemployment centred post in months. I figured it was about time to write about the other things that are going on in my life. Because, you know, with all this free time there is a whole heck of a lot going on in my life. But you'll have to give me some grace, the quality of this entry might not be upto the usual Green Mango snuff. Nevertheless, come on in and stay a while.

PLAYING DRESS-UP

I wore make-up and a dress a few weeks ago. Of my own volition. Did you even think that was possible? I sure didn't. But when you are the Best Woman in a wedding you'll do all sorts of surprising things. Matthew, the groom and my very good friend, even has photographic evidence. You should track down his happy, newly-married self and see if you can get a peek.

PLAYING MUSIC

This week is Jazz Fest in Vancouver. And I am in heaven. I spent all day Saturday at Gastown taking in the smooth, soul-soothing sounds with friends. It was brilliant. I think I am in love with the bassist from the AfroCuban trio we saw. And also the bassist from a band based out of Toronto. Pardon me, I am drooling. Not just over boys who play the bass, but for the free jazz that flows through the streets like water and bounces off the rooftops like summer rain.

If you are anywhere west of the Atlantic you should really make the trip out this week and take in some jazz with me.

~return g. mango for refund where applicable

Humility

2007-06-16T15:11:00.000-07:00

Is a hard thing to learn. And I must be failing the test, because I've had to take it so many times in the last six months.

Not getting that job hit me a lot harder than I expected. I actually had already decided not to take it if they offered it to me, but I still wanted the satisfaction of turning someone down for a change. I think I have weathered enough rejection of late to warrant doling out a little rejection of my own.

I had a teary-eyed, jobless, self-pitying session with my sister last week and another with a friend this week. I think I have shed more tears in the last seven days than I have in years. It's a bit ridiculous. It's just a job. Or, rather a lack of job.

But I'm starting to realize that it has less to do with being out of a job, and more to do with all the baggage in my trunk. I come from educated people, with impressive jobs, and admirable work ethic. There is a fully spoken expectation that I get a real job and start saving for a house, a car, some children, and a comfortable retirement.

I worked hard to get myself through school, and I thought that guaranteed me a way onto the road that leads to Freedom 55. But apparently a Bachelor's degree is merely a twenty-thousand dollar piece of wallpaper. I need to either get some more education, or do a whole lot of volunteering in my field so I can get a decent portfolio together, or reassess and just keep plugging away at non-profit work. And none of those options makes my heart go giddy-up.

Anyway, all that to say, I have an interview on Tuesday. It's just a job to pay the bills. And hopefully I will get it, and I will work enough hours to pay for rent and food and humility test re-takes. And hopefully I will work few enough hours to pick up a writing gig or two so that my muse is placated.

~who are you? g. mango is you in 25 years.

False Alarm

2007-06-10T12:28:00.000-07:00

Employment decidedly not ahoy. I didn't get the job.

~g.mango doesn't like this game

Employment Ahoy?

2007-05-28T22:19:00.000-07:00

I have an interview on Wednesday. And I am so incredibly qualified for this job. Or at least that's what it seems like from the job description. And my contract at the Old Job is up on Thursday, so getting this job right now would be perfect timing. Perfect.

So if you, my faithful readers, would like to say a prayer for me, or send me some positive hippie thoughts or something, I would really appreciate it. I promise if I get this job I will stop writing such semi-dejected employment-centric posts and I will return to my usually witty and all around entertaining self. And I will give you a dollar. And a pony.

Look at all those tempting incentives. How can you resist helping a sister out in her time of need when there's mention of a pony? You can't, that's how.

~g. mango could already be a winner!

Hide me under a bushel

2007-05-07T21:42:00.000-07:00

I've been working and it has been good. It isn't a lot of money, but it gets me out of the house and with people, which is what I really needed anyway.

But the reality of approaching unemployment looms large: my contract is up on June 2nd. And I have nothing coming down the pipes. I have a few people looking out for me. Which is a fine feeling, believe you me. However, I am still anxious. I want something to hold onto. Some concrete leads to stave off this nervousness.

I don't even know why I feel so uneasy. There are people who are in much worse situations than I am. I could easily get a job at a coffee shop in the lean times while I search for something else. I have enough money to see me through to the fall even after that horrific cheque I had to write to the government at tax time. It all works out.

Still, this feeling of dread is reminiscent of last year this time when I was facing impending doom and homelessness. At least I had a job. This year I have a home (though, oddly enough no roommate, again), but no job. It would be nice to have both. At the same time.

Enough drama for today. I leave you with a quote from one of our kids, "I know for sure if you knocked on God's door, he would open it and say 'Come on in; stay for a while.'"

Actually, I will leave you with this quote from another kid, "God is not purple. And he doesn't smell like fish."

~g. mango spies with her little eye, something that is purple!

As it turns out

2007-04-11T22:13:00.000-07:00

I'm working. At my former place of employment. No need for any commentary from the Peanut Gallery. It's just temporary, and it's a different job than I had before.

I feel excellent, by the way. Fulfilled, motivated, constructive. Working is a great thing for me. And so is sunshine, of which there seems to be a giddily unending supply of late.

More info to come when I get some time.

~g. mango is here for all your accounting needs

Unemployment Chronicles

2007-04-02T21:41:00.000-07:00

Hey, I'm working this week. And I worked three days last week. And boy do I feel fine.

I was talking to D, who also has had an intimate relationship with unemployment of late, about how not working just saps the life of me. There is so much of self-worth, motivation, and fulfillment tied up in working full time. And I have been working two jobs for the last two years, six if you count all those years I spent going to work by day and university by night. And now I have no jobs. It is such an off-putting place to be.

I'm still looking. I am trying to make connections. I am trying to assess and use my skills. I am trying not to be so fatalistic and hopeless. I am trying to remind myself that I am talented. Or is this all chimerical fancy?

The only way we'll know is if someone were to hire me and give me a fighting chance.

~g. mango provides support for alumni at all stages of their careers

Public Letter

2007-03-26T12:05:00.000-07:00

FROM THE DESK OF GREEN MANGO

Dear Vegans,

I hate cooking for you. Eat something good for a change.

Love,

G. Mango

~g.mango would pick bacon over ethics any day

For the record

2007-03-20T14:52:00.000-07:00

I am not 17 anymore.

I sometimes forget this fact. And I sometimes find myself, overwhelmed with the very presence of SUN IN THE LOWER MAINLAND, strapping on my trusty rollerblades and heading to the local skate park. And after 15 minutes of trying to work up the courage to thrust myself into the unknown at an ungodly speed and possibly humiliate myself in front of the nimble teenagers that surround me, I sometimes find my aging self barreling down the into the dish. And wiping out gracelessly.

And this is where it dawns on me that I am not a teenager, and I should just tuck my tail between my arthritic legs and head to the mall to walk with the senior citizens group.

~OMG!!! g.mango h8s pain! LMAO!! TTFN!

I am so bad at now

2007-03-18T18:58:00.000-07:00

HEART

Dichotomic lives
Finding solace in extremes
Light and darkness

AND SOUL

I am so unimpressed with this stage of life. I have always wanted to be more grown-up than I am. I have always wanted to arrive at maturity and understanding without having to pay my dues. The destination, I think, is much more enjoyable than the journey.

One would think I would have life more figured out by now. But in truth, I have things less figured out today than yesterday. And yesterday I hardly had anything figured out at all.

Now I am tumbling through my adolescence again. Except this time I have the words to express myself more accurately, and a more profound (though still largely intangible) knowledge that this too shall pass.

If nothing else, there is an unstated promise that all green mangoes will one day be ripe.

~g.mango tastes good in a salad

Were you Aware?

2007-03-11T18:29:00.000-07:00

I hate this rain
I want some snacks
I need more human contact during the hours of 10 and 5
I do not not enjoy sending out resumes all day long
I hate this rain
I drew this drawring months ago and never posted it:

LONG LOST DRAWRING

On my way to the grocery store

~take a good look at my faaaace, you'll see my smile looks like a piece of licorice

Things that I am giving up for Lent

2007-03-03T20:09:00.000-08:00

Unemployment
Abstinence
Jesus
Rum
~~Coke~~ (Who am I trying to kid?)

~g. mango prays for the spirit of repentence

Even Jesus saves

2007-03-03T03:49:00.000-08:00

I cannot believe how frustrated I am that I lost every single one of the 417 songs my sister put on my iPod. And all this after I spent three hours organizing iTunes and importing all my songs. BAH! I actually had every song that I own and every song that I wanted from my sister's library on my iPod for ten whole minutes. And now I have nothing.

Well, not nothing. I have my charming wit, a headache, and a painful reminder to back up my files. Oh yes, and a terrible empty feeling brought on by the realization that something so superficial as losing my music can ruin my entire night. I am a moron. And the good people at Apple, with their circumvention of the purgatory Recycling Bin and their expensive recovery software and their uNnecessary iCaps, are morons too.

There. I said it.

~iHate iTunes or iCaps are for iDiots

I love to state the obvious II

2007-02-22T16:16:00.000-08:00

I hate shopping for grown-up shoes.

I am already getting a little bit tired of looking for work.

~g.mango is fat and glad

I love to state the obvious, but

2007-02-14T11:53:00.000-08:00

I hate shopping for clothes.

And I'm back in Vancouver.

~g. mango has all the makings of the next big canadian nudist

Travel Update the Third

2007-02-07T11:18:00.000-08:00

Well, after much drama with Air Canada (boooooo!) both to and from Antigua, I am finally in the Tdot again (applause).

I invite you to share your stories about bad experiences you've had with Air Canada (booooo!), and link them to this page. I'll link back, and soon the wholewide Interweb will know the truth about Canada's dirty bird in the sky.

I will tell my story later. But first, a representation of the most recent leg of my journey for visual learners.

A DRAWRING

Step 1: Enjoy your vacation in the sun

Step 2: Find out after hours of waiting in the terminal that your plane has mechanical and operational issues and won't be flying today after all.

Step 3 (not shown): Curse Air Canada for stealing another day of your vacation.

Step 4: Arrive in Toronto despite all of Air Canada's attempts to strand you indefinitely.

~g. mango will catch a falling plane and put it in her pocket

Travel update II

2007-01-28T07:49:00.000-08:00

I was going to upload some pictures so everyone in the whole wide Interworld could see what a great time I'm having in the sunshine.

But, you know, I'd rather just go to the beach.

That and my memory card won't fit into the reader on my Grandparent's computer.

Pictures to come ~~when~~ if I return.

~g. mango specializes in rest, relaxation, and consumption of tropical beverages

Adventures in adventuring

2007-01-17T09:52:00.000-08:00

Since we last spoke I've:

been to Time Square
taken in the tree at Rockefeller Square
seen a GIANT RAT on the New York subway
lost three pounds
gained five pounds
taken up skipping rope three times a week
taken the longest, most convoluted bus route from Buffalo to Toronto
gotten to know every side street from Fort Eerie to Mississagua very intimately (see bullet above)
survived being mercilessly attacked by Toronto hail
sustained minor injuries after my front stoop and much of the GTA was transformed into a skating rink
had all my ~~assests~~ important parts frozen
given in to wanton consumerism

To come:

sunshine
warm weather
beaches
family time
tropical fruit
home cooking
gloating
boating
bloating

HOORAH A DRAWRING

mango was a rolling stone

~g. mango sees your smarties and raises you an eyebrow

Travel Update

2007-01-06T11:10:00.000-08:00

So, I decided to forego the trip to Europe, and instead just do Toronto, the States, and the Caribbean for my month off. So far, it has been great.

I am currently just outside of Baltimore. And it's sunny with a high of 75. Brilliant. I defintely did not pack adequately for this weather, but I'm not complaining. My goal for this month off was to find relaxation, visit family, and get as far away from Vancouver rain as possible.

I thought the trip to the West Indies was going to seal the whole trip off with a sun-kissed goodbye. But it looks like I didn't have to wait that long.

Plus, I walked about 2 sunshiney miles today with my cousins, and lost two pounds.

So, I am safe, and sound, and sunny. More to come when I have steady internet access.

~g. mango is your source for quality weather forecasts

A friendly note from your local mango

2006-12-11T13:32:00.000-08:00

IN THE MATTER of the Adolescent Festive Act, 1988, c-35

BETWEEN: G. Mango

AND BETWEEN: The Juvenile Populace (hereinafter referred to as "you")

WHEREAS you are many in number.

WHEREAS you are far too hard to shop for.

THEREFORE cut it out.

Love,

G. Mango
Regional Representative for the Office of Too Many Freaking Teenagers at Christmastime (Interim)

~g. mango for Regional Representative for the Office of YOU GET NOTHING (Permanent)

Bite back

2006-11-21T19:16:00.000-08:00

FROM THE DESK OF GREEN MANGO

Dear Arachnids and unknown biting creatures who share my apartment,

It has been very nice getting to know you over the past two months. Thank you for staying largely out of sight during the day light and evening hours. You don't know how much I appreciate the sacrifice on your part.

If I have any misgivings or complaints, believe me, they are the exception and not the norm. However, I would like to bring to your attention the basic scientific concept known fondly in the human world as "The Food Chain". The capitalization there is for effect, not because we English-speaking beings capitalize things at random. Without going too deep into it, let me explain that you are much further down on the food chain than, say, a goat or a ferret, or a human being. Please don't be insulted, this is not an attack on your personal character, merely a statement of fact. There are many creatures further down on this veritable chain of foods.

And that is where my problem begins. You, friend, are supposed to eat things lower down on the food chain than you. And I, being much higher on the food chain should be left out of your feeding rituals. But on occasion, I awake from a peaceful night's sleep to find myself snacked on, tasted, and chewed.

So please return the kindness I show you by not biting you, and quit biting me. Seriously, cut it out. Or I will kill you and all your children. I will show no mercy. 'Cause I am swollen and itchy and you can never trust a bulging, angry fruit.

Sincerely,

G. Mango

All signs point to maybe

2006-11-16T10:36:00.000-08:00

Is it something about being in your twenties? Or is it just me? Because I definitely do not have my entire life figured out yet.

I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
I don't know what I want to take my Masters degree in.
I don't know what kind of job I want when I am done with this one in December.
I don't know why people keep asking me about this even though I already told them I don't know.
I don't know the meaning of life.
I don't know the difference between prawns and shrimp.
I don't know who sang that song in that movie with that guy. Remember?
No, I don't remember.
I don't know who will win the Liberal ~~Demagogue~~ Leadership Race.
I don't know how to spell demagogue without thinking about it first.
I don't know exactly what I believe about God.
I don't know the Muffin Man.
I don't know if I should go to Toronto, Europe, and the Caribbean on my month off, or just to Toronto, and the Caribbean.
I don't know if I should buy that cool new MP3 Player that is barely bigger than a toonie, or if that is the first step to resigning myself to a life of wanton consumerism.

And what's more, I really don't care.

~g. mango cracked corn, and I don't care.

Shuffle, Repeat

2006-11-01T17:14:00.000-08:00

I have been listening to Jann Arden, Melissa Etheridge, and The Temptations all day today on a continuous loop. Which means three things.

I'll give you a dollar if you can guess all three.

~g. mango is to x as x is to y

Alms House

2006-10-18T13:16:00.000-07:00

Hey. I got paid for that translation I did so many moons ago. That is so sweet. And my co-translator dude refused his half of the payment. Which means:

I am rich
No I am not
But the G. Mango automotive and exotic vacation fund is much beefier than it was yesterday
And I am thankful

HERE'S A DRAWRING

Actually my other car is a transformer, robot in disguise

~g. mango is subject to the agreements and regulations which govern her use

Might as well face it

2006-10-05T15:12:00.000-07:00

I'm addicted to Coke.

The dangerously saccharine beverage, that is, not the illicit alkaloid.

Today has been one of those days. I have been tired ever since I woke up, even though I got a healthy amount of sound sleep. I was a walking zombie all day at work today until I went out and procured myself some heavenly, carbonated sweetness. And as soon as the sweet nectar touched my lips (or, rather, as soon as I drained the contents of the can directly into my gullet), I transformed into a normal human being.

I find this disconcerting.

And reading over all this again, I aslo find it unsettling that today's post seems ~~as verbose as an episode of the current season of Gilmore Girls~~ . . . ~~like an obtuse foray into the deep jungles of a Rogets Thesaurus~~ . . . like a word-a-day special.

But what do I care? I have found the elixir of the life!

From homeless to homeful

2006-09-26T14:40:00.000-07:00

I found a house! Hoorah! I'm moving this weekend. Which is bittersweet.

SWEET

Living out of a suitcase has gotten very tiresome and messy over the past four months.

Now I don't have to spend all of my free time cruising Craigslist for housing that cost less than my firstborn and yet is not on par with living in squalor.

I can finally take all my kitchen gadgets out of storage. Which gives me far more pleasure than it should.

I will have my own space wherein I can walk around in my underwear. Which also gives me far more pleasure than it should.

I will live approximately 28 seconds away from Commercial Drive and five minutes away from work.

BITTER

I hate packing. I have already moved nine times in my life, four of those times have been in the past year and a half alone. Certainly I've reached -- if not exceeded -- my moving/packing quota for life. I should be exempt from any further relocation endeavours from now on.

I will miss my new roommates. They are an enjoyable bunch. We have dinner together and then ~~argue passionately about politics and race issues~~ talk about our days over Hobnobs and tea.

THE RETURN OF DRAWRINGS
(TO COMMEMORATE MY TENTH RELOCATION)

affordable housing never looked so good

complimentary peanut doesn't know his english pastries

~g.mango is happy to accept this lifetime achievement award for nomadism