The Chantastic Blog

Actual conversation I had with a salesperson from Telus:

Salesperson: “You have caller ID, right?”
Me: “Yes.”
Salesperson: “Well, with the money you’re paying there, plus what you’re paying for your texting plan, you might as well get voicemail and uplimited texts for an extra $2.”
Me: “No. I’m fundamentally against voicemail. I do not believe in it. I hate leaving voicemail for other people, and I don’t want people leaving voicemail for me.”
Salesperson: “Oh. Um, yeah, I don’t like it either. I wish it we could remove it from our lives.”
Me: “Alright. So we’re done here?”
Salesperson: “Yes. Thank you very much. Have a good day.”

And that, my friends, is how you stop a salesman dead in their tracks.

Remember my decade-long feud with a neighbor that began when I was woken up by a horrendous violin coming from their place?

Well today was my last day in Edmonton. As per my usual routine, I was enjoying a nice nap until I was woken up by a radio being played. I stumbled downstairs to find out what it was - it turns out it was that same neighbor blaring the radio through the same window from a decade ago. So basically, it was the exact same situation. Are you kidding me? What are the odds?

But this time, instead of provoking an argument, I went back to bed. I’ve matured since the last time, you know.

Of course, I still do not like those neighbors. And I’d be lying if I claimed I didn’t want to channel my inner Wayne Brady…

Remember my rant on the plastic bag policy in Toronto being idiotic?

Well, since I’m not bringing much back to Toronto from Edmonton, there’s plenty of room in my luggage. As I was packing today, my mom brought a bag over to my suitcase.

“Here are some plastic bags. I know they cost money in Toronto, but they’re free here in Edmonton.”

And that is why my mom is awesome. It’s not so much about the 5 cents as it is about how she was on my wavelength to find a loophole around the plastic bag policy.

For those of you keeping score: Chans 2, City of Toronto 0.

As some of you might be aware, Facebook added the “Like” feature to photos and status updates on its website a few months ago. Now, this was a neat little addition because it gave users the ability to demonstrate that they like certain posted items without having to come up with a funny or clever comment. I mean, there’s only so many ways a person can say, “Awesome pics!” before it gets annoying, right?

However, I have noticed that some people use the “Like” function like idiots. Pun very much intended. You see, I’ve observed people using the “Like” function on their own photo albums, and it annoys me to no end.

Let’s take a moment to think about this. Is using the “Like” function really necessary for a person’s own photo albums? Would you ever post photos on Facebook that you didn’t like? Isn’t it implied that if you’re posting photos, you approve of them? Showing the world that you like your own pictures is a bit redundant, isn’t it? Am I missing something here?

Of all the days and of all the times during the day that the City of Edmonton could have sent a construction crew to do some paving on my street, how come they had to choose the Monday morning at 8:30 AM of the one week I’m back in town?

Recall that sleeping is my top priority when I’m back in town, and that I’ve literally started feuds with neighbors that have lasted more than a decade over it. So to say I was unimpressed to be woken up well before 9 AM would be the understatement of all understatements.

And it’s not like the construction guys were down the street from my place. No, I took a peek outside my window. They were literally right in front of my house. You walk out through my garage, down the driveway, and there they were.

Even more annoying was the fact that they were fixing the area on the street between the neighbor I’m feuding with and my house, where water seems to collect. The reason they were fixing that area was because my evil neighbor phoned the City of Edmonton and demanded they fix that part of the street because that’s where a puddle accumulates everytime there’s rain. Basically, it is again my neighbor’s fault that I was woken up.

I still don’t like them.

Remember my slightly bizarre two workouts in less than twelve hours weekend? Before the second workout, the shirt I wore during the first workout was still damp, so I had to switch to a backup shirt. After I was done, I decided to throw the two shirts in a tub of water and put detergent in the tub because, frankly, the shirts smelled gross.

The problem is that the first workout shirt was lime green whereas the second workout shirt was plain white, and I completely forgot about them for a couple of days.

The first shirt is still bright green. The second shirt, not so much. I spoke with my fashion consultant, and though the possibility of a comeback for tie-dyed shirts was discussed, ultimately the plan is to keep the two shirts in a tub of water over the nine days I’m back home so that the white shirt will become light green instead.

Giorgio Armani, you’ve got nothing on me.

I made a return trip to the infamous Wednesday Aveda warehouse sale last week because it was my last Wednesday at my summer internship, and my mom e-mailed me a list of things she wanted me to buy for her.

As I stood around like a deer in the headlights, a girl entered and saw the wall of items for sale. She then exclaimed, “Oh my God! This place is AMAZING!”

My co-worker, who was also acting as my purchasing consultant, replied to her, “It’s your first time here, eh? You get total ADD because you don’t know where to start. It’s great.”