Archive for September, 2008

30 Sep

Your fibula is showing

Posted by Noelle in It's a medical condition. Tagged: .

I went to the orthopedic surgeon (the new one, not the jerk) yesterday to get new x-rays on my ankle.  Things are looking good, and we’re talking pin removal come January so I can gain enough flexibility to go down stairs normally again.  Woo-hoo!

Also, provided my employment stays the same, insurance covers the whole damn thing.  Double woo-hoo!  And if you’re interested, this is a comprehensive chart of the the health care proposals of the two major Presidential candidates. That link went over my head just enough that I figure I should get the surgery before some new plan comes into play, just in case.

Because I’m a cheap bastard, I didn’t fork over the $5 for a copy of my x-rays so I could share them on my blog.  Instead, I did a Google image search to see if there was anyone else who posted pictures of a similar nature.  And wouldn’t you know it, the internet is full of people who have broken ankles!  I don’t feel so special, anymore now that I know posting pictures of your surgical scars is “trendy.”

While I was at the doctor’s office, I made an off-hand comment to the doc that I had hurt my hand at swimming that morning (as I get tired, my left arm won’t go up as high, and I get thwacked by the people in the lane coming in the other direction.)  I was hoping to get a free ice pack out of him for my $20 co-pay, but instead I got… x-rays on my hand!  If you ever get a chance to see what the insides of your body look like do it, it is kind of cool.  It turns out that (as I thought) my hand was just bruised, but we also discovered that sometime in my life I had some kind of trauma to my left thumb (and no, that’s not the freak thumb.)

I tried to remember seriously injuring it, and I have no recollection.  Most likely I got hit by a softball while playing Dad in the backyard, and he told me to “buck up and walk it off!”  (He always wanted sons, poor guy.)  I guess there’s something to be said for just letting your body heal itself naturally, and that is that you might just forget you ever hurt it.

Unless of course, you break your leg in three places while playing kickball.  In that case I suggest medical attention.

29 Sep

Quid Pro No

Posted by Noelle in Hooray for Hollywood. Tagged: .

Before I moved to the Hudson Valley, I was a location manager for films and television shows in New York City.  For most of my jobs, I was just a locations assistant, taking orders from my boss, telling pedestrians to clear the shot (walk on the other side of the street) and ask anyone in the vicinity who is making noise (lawn mowers, ice cream trucks, veterans playing billiards on the floor above) to cut it out.  As a shy quiet person, you can imagine how much I loved doing that.

After working in that arena for about two and a half years, I was offered my first (and last) job as a full-fledged location manager, which would mean I got to tell other people to go tell the civilians to be quiet, and in excahnge for that, I would be part of the original pre-production team and be soley resonsable for the budget and hiring of my crew.  Also, they offered me a boatload of money.  Because it was October, the most active production period in New York, literally every other location manager in the city was working on some other job, so I got bumped up.

To say I was unqualified for the position is an understatement.  To say that the director and production crew were way over their head with a super-small budget for a mostly on-location shoot is also a major understatement.

Working on the movie literally broke me.  I had to learn to write New York City permits on the job, and if those things aren’t perfect and on time, you don’t get to shoot on the streets or police assistance you need (which happened once during production).  We didn’t find the location for the main character’s apartment until two weeks into filming.  Every day we went over time and over budget, and while we were shooting, I was scavenging and scrambling to get the next day’s locations firmed up and set in time to write the permits, create directions for the entire crew, and let the assistant directors know if they would be able to shoot the scenes they wanted or not.

On top of all that, the movie was not very good.  The production company had some lofty goals, and considered their film groundbreaking.  We had two young stars who are getting well known. (Although the male lead keeps losing parts to certain young actor, and did not much appreciate it when I off-handidly mentioned I was looking forward to seeing the gay cowboy movie.) However, the plot of the movie just made no sense at all, and was trying to do too much with too little.

So now it’s been almost three years since the day that I collapsed in a heap on the production company floor, shaken so badly that I couldn’t even cry.  (That day I had mis-labeled a permit, and we had to move all of our production trucks off of a main avenue, and this came on the heels of a neighborhood block association complaining about our presense earlier in the day meant that we had to move about 20 bags of garbage (that wasn’t ours!) to a trash receptical five blocks away, and after I spent the night at the production office making maps and directions for the next day’s shoot.)

Directly after the production ended, Birmingham and I took a trip to California where he hid my phone so I couldn’t take stray calls from the production office while they worked on some post stuff.  I had to change my cell phone ring, because just the sound of it sent shivers up my spine.  (Is that the city office guy calling to say that he’s changed his mind and we can’t use his building after all?  Or is that the mayor’s office calling to say my permits are denied and I can’t get a police unit on the scene?  Maybe just the head of production telling me that I messed up again, but they’re not going to just take pity on me and fire me?)

It was bad.  But after all these years, the movie finally came out.  Almost direct to DVD, but for a few festivals they played, and the one week it was in general release.  I had it on my Netflix queue for a while, but I was afraid that watching it would send me into a spiral of depression or something.  Because this weekend was pretty great (saw friends in the city on Friday, went to a swim party on Saturday, helped friends move) I felt ready to bear down and watch the movie, and I’ve emergen unbroken, but annoyed that I put so much into that thing.

Some thoughts:

  • The story makes even less sense when you haven’t throughly studied the script.
  • They cut the scene of the car crash!  That was our first day of shooting, and we had to go all the way out to the middle of nowhere in New Jersey and trucked in a crashed car.  They just showed some driving shots that could have been filmed anywhere.
  • The Chinese restaurant scene was only a minute long, and it took us about three days just to get permission to shoot in Chinatown, and then a whole day to shoot.  You can’t even tell that the scene was in Chinatown.
  • The scene in the Bronxville mansion was cut!  Arg, it was so hard to find that location, I actually hired Birmingham for a day to scout for it.
  • The scene with [Holling from Northern Exposure] was cut!  And we spent an entire day cleaning out the office of this church pastor so we could turn it into a doctor’s office!
  • Come to think of it, everything we shot in that church was re-shot after principal production, and re-cast.
  • They cut the final scene!  WTF?  That was our last day of principal photography, and we shot it at the park near my old apartment.  I got up at 4:00am that morning, and lied through my teeth to the city park official as we brought in cranes and trucks that we were not permitted to have.
  • The scenes we shot at the Brooklyn Museum were pretty damn beautiful.  Maybe it was worth spending half my budget on that location.
  • But it was not worth moving the garbage, because that scene did no look good.
  • Writing this post is making me remiss too much about those two months of my life.

On one hand, I should have never taken the job.  On the other, I needed something that truamatic to shake me up and get me out of the business where I had no business.  I interviewed for my current job the day I got back from California, moved up here a few months later, and do not regret it at all.  I don’t want to leave a hyperlink trail to the actual movie, but if you want to ever watch it, you’ve got all the info you need from the post title.  And if you watch the whole movie including the credits, after names of the gaffers, post production assistants, key grips, casting associates and caterers, you’ll see my name go by, in really small print.

25 Sep

Preferred whoever

Posted by Noelle in White Box Living. Tagged: .

I’ve been getting a lot more junk mail at my new place than in my old place.  I think it has a lot to do with the fact that the landlesbian isn’t taking it.  When it came to the mailbox we all shared on the farm, she always had first dibs on “resident” and “occupant” and my personal favorite: The Pennysaver.

Today, stuck under a collection of grocery store circulars, I received a piece of unsolicited junk mail asking me to sign up for FiOS, the internet service that I had installed two weeks ago.  I guess the mailing center didn’t yet communicate with the sign-up center.  It was addressed to “preferred resident.”

I know that they really wanted to send it to “preferred customer,” but they hadn’t yet gotten the intel that the resident at my apartment was a customer.  And they didn’t want to send it just to plain old “resident” because it could fall into the wrong hands.  Like a kid.  I have first-hand knowledge of the fact that kids always get those letters first, because mail is still exciting when you’re a kid.  (Or when you have Netflix.)

Note to Netflix: Can I get a free month for that plug?  It’s better than a pop-up ad!

So to keep those kids from getting the precious FiOS information, they addressed it to “Preferred Resident.”  I suppose they figure that all the occupants can fight amongst themselves as to who is preferred, and who is just not pulling their weight.  As for me, I kind of wonder if it means they prefer me over the previous resident, who evidently did not sign up for FiOS.

They probably had dial-up.  And no one prefers that.

Have a great weekend, Preferred Readers!

25 Sep

10. The Towne Crier

Posted by Noelle in Thirty Activites: Hudson Valley. Tagged: .

“The problem is that I’m seated and sober.” – Birmingham

As I was saying yesterday, the key to being happy and single is to keep doing stuff.  So when Birmingham invited me to see The Young Dubliners on Wednesday night, I had to go.  In hindsight, I should have probably taken a few moments to text every person I know in the area to invite them along, because not a lot of people show up to a rock concert at 7:30 on a Wednesday night in Pawling, NY.  There were 16 of us in the audience and 6 of them in the band, and until some late-comers showed up to round out the 16, it looked like the band was going to be outnumbered.  Also, the Dubs put on one hell of a great show and I’d love other people to know about them.

If you want to know more about the band including a video, I’ll give you the link to my post from last St. Patrick’s Day.  You’ll also notice that back then I had quite a different take on singledom than I did yesterday, so I guess these things are fluid.

Last night we ventured to The Towne Crier, a place I’ve never actually been to because Pawling, NY seems  just far away enough to be far away.  Although it only took us about 40 minutes to get there, the local radio station did fade out as we traveled over hill and vale.

The strange thing about this venue compared to other concerts I’ve been to is that it’s actually a restaurant with tables that face the stage, and no standing room.  I’ve always associated seeing the Young Dubliners with bouncing around the dance floor like a crazed white girl, so it was strange.  It also made us feel compelled to order food with our Guinnesses since we were sitting at tables with classy white napkins.  So instead of burning off calories with my insane dance stylings, I packed them back on by getting the nachos, which were delicious, and possibly worth the drive in and of themselves.

Of the four times I’ve seen the band, this was the most mellow, probably because of the seating which is better suited to a folk singer or maybe an acoustic guitarist.  Also, this show was at the end of a whirlwind tour, (including a show in August where all of their gear was stolen out of a van) and they seemed a little tired.  Having only a dozen people sitting in the audience probably didn’t do much for the energy, either.

Next time they come around, we’ll first make sure that there’s a place to dance in front of the stage, and then we’ll call all our friends and invite them along.  And if I’m ever in Pawling again, I know where to find a nice intimate show and some nachos.  And maybe get a better camera than my cell phone to document the outing:

24 Sep

Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose

Posted by Noelle in Thirtysomething. Tagged: .

I’m a little late on this because it started on the 21st, but Happy National Singles Week everyone!  I know that “happy” and “single” are words that stereotypically don’t belong together, but I think that’s hooey.

Since Birmingham and I split, I’ve been thinking a lot about the nature of being single or married and trying to figure out what it is exactly that I want.  When we were together and things were going great, the subject of marriage kept rearing its pesky little head.  I’ll be the first to admit that I was the one who invited it in, but those kinds of questions came at us from the outside, too.  I wouldn’t characterize it as pressure, but there was a certain expectation that if a relationship is going well, then it’s only a matter of time before the marriage happens.  And with that goes the prejudice that if marriage doesn’t happen quickly, then there’s something wrong.

And that’s what I think is bullshit, and I’m really glad to have this time to myself to realize that getting married is not something that I want to think of as a “goal.”  Some people make marriage out to be a magical panacea that makes anything better and must be gained as soon as possible, and it makes you lose sight of the fact that life is what you’re living right now.

That being said, I know I joked that Birmingham and I broke up because he wouldn’t fucking propose already, but it was really more because he wasn’t as willing to commit to the future of our relationship in general, and unrelatedly, we had many fights revolved around the distance between us and scheduling time to get together.

Since we’ve been apart, it’s true that I missed his companionship, but I’ve also realized that I love being single.  I do a lot of stuff, and when I’m busy, I have no time to feel lonely.  Through doing all this stuff, I’ve met some great people, and those friendships also prevent loneliness.  And when I come home, I’ve got my alone time where I don’t have to worry about pleasing anyone but myself (and some cats.)  If I want to go out, I don’t have to tell anyone or get permission or check in.  I just go.

The problem with being single, and the idea behind this national week, is that we don’t get a lot of respect.  I first heard about it on Jezebel yesterday and they linked to an article by Bella DePaulo listing the 14 reasons why we need this week.  The reason we need to be heard is that in America is that there are about 1,138 federal statutes that give benefits to married couples over single people.  No wonder so many people get married just for the heath insurance, a move that I think devalues the institution of marriage even more than if two dudes want to shack up.  As she says in the article:

We need it because the de-stigmatizing of single life does not undermine marriage, it strengthens it. When single people can live their lives with all of the same respect, benefits, protections, and opportunities as people who are married, then those who want to marry are free. They can pursue marriage for the right reasons – not to run away from the stigma of being single, but to embrace the attractions of being married.

One of the reasons there’s never been a strong single-person’s lobby is that it’s very easy for singles to become married, and very few people are honestly vowing to stay single forever. But while we are, it would be nice to get some damn tax breaks.  I mean, many of us are paying our own rent or mortgages for goodness’ sakes.

After it ended with Birmingham, I finally started asking myself questions like “why do I want to get married?” “why do I want a boyfriend?” and eventually “do I want to get married?” and “do I want a boyfriend?” and I realized I don’t really know the answers for certain, so I might as well make the most of what I have instead of trying to get something I don’t have.

Another pitfall I worry about is that in this day and age of bridal craziness, many women spend more time planning their wedding than planning their marriage.  But that was never really my problem since I’ve never been a fan of weddings, and I really don’t like diamonds.  (Don’t even get me started on how the whole “two month’s salary” crap was actually a “tradition” stared by the diamond companies in recent years, who don’t exactly have the cleanest hands in the world when it comes to how they get those clear rocks that my untrained eye can’t differentiate from a piece of pretty glass.)  I digress.  My point here is that I don’t want to get into a lifetime commitment until I’ve thoroughly vetted my potential forever-roommate, and I suppose I’m not in any rush to do so, because I’m in a very happy place right now.

So single people, this is our week!  And I must add I wish not to disparage the people who made the choice to join in a more perfect union.  I probably would have done so myself had I had the opportunity.  So you marrieds and couples out there, why not celebrate this week by going to the movies by yourself tonight?  Or trying to figure out the best way to make a delicious meal for one?  Or better yet, call up your single friend and she if he or she wants to come over for a glass of wine?  If that friend doesn’t already have plans, you’ll get a great addition to your evening conversation.  Especially when the topic turns to dating.

23 Sep

Home again

Posted by Noelle in Bringing home the bacon, Drop Everything And Read. Tagged: .

I’m back!  I had a lovely few days of spending quality time with the Northeast’s finest booksellers.  I felt like a rock star, waking up in one city and going to bed in another, and then waking up again not certain of what state I was in.  However, I went to bed before midnight every night, didn’t trash any hotel rooms, and never played a lick of music, so I suppose I don’t qualify for legitimate “rock star” status.

I appreciate all the people who lived near my destinations and wanted to meet up, and I apologize that I didn’t get back to you, but I was actually working the entire time (including dinners and post-dinner cocktails) except for one evening that I spent with Nancy Pearl Wannabe, but you all know that we’re secret lovers anyway.  (That’s mostly because I find her sexier than a Sony Reader AND an Amazon Kindle put together.)  Of course, as always, our time together was all too brief and then it was back on to schmoozing with the book people.

In addition to meeting some of the most fantastic booksellers in the business, I also met some pretty kick-ass authors.  Because I need to attend to my work-related Internet responsibilities and sort out all these business cards, let me give you a list of recommended fall reading based on some of the authors I just saw:

(All of these books are available from your local independent bookseller, go to IndieBound.com to find yours!)

Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins: I started reading this on the drive from Boston to New Jersey.  I chose it because it’s actually a YA novel, and I figured it would be easy to read.  It is, but it is also fantastic, and the subject (children selected to fight to the death in a Gladiator-style competition) is decidedly adult.  At her book talk, Collins told us that despite the fact she looks like a hippie, she grew up watching Gladiator movies.  It shows in this book, which is absolutely fantastic and I wish I was reading right now.

The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff: I read this a while ago because we were planning an event with him.  The book tells the dual story of modern day fundamentalist Mormons and the original clan of Mormons, including the woman who was Bringham Young’s 19th wife.  If you find religious cults facinating like I do, this book is for you.  Even if you don’t, it’s a great read.

The Patron Saint of Butterflies by Cecilia Galante: Speaking of religious cults, Galante was part of one in upstate New York for the first fifteen years of her life until the leader died and she and her family assimilated into mainstream society.  At the New Jersey show, she was given an award for best children’s literature book of the year.  In her acceptance speech, she spoke of being teased in middle school, which caused her to run for cover into the first room she found.  It was the library, and as she told us that it was the first time in her life she was ever in a library, she choked up and started to cry.  Then we all cried.  It was very moving, and I really want to read this book, which is loosely based on her life story.

The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs: At the same dinner, he won an award for best non-fiction of the year for a very different take on religion.  I read this when it first came out, and I highly recommend.  It’s based on his experiment of spending a year following every rule of The Bible.  Very funny stuff, and actually pretty reverent.

The Given Day by Dennis Lehane: Although I’ve seen both Mystic River and Gone, Baby, Gone, I’ve not actually read any of Lehane’s novels.  After hearing him speak on his newest one based on the Boston Police Strike of 1919, I think I give it a go.  And for those of you who like your books extra-special, he let us in on a secret that there’s a typo in the first edition, so get yourself one soon, as it will be fixed by the second printing.  (And bonus points if you actually find the typo, which is actually a continunity mistake based on a section that was cut out…)

State By State by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey: Weiland sat at a table with me during one event called “The Moveable Feast” where everyone sits at a table with an author.  Each time a new course is served, the authors change tables so by the end of the meal you’ve met three authors.  It’s a really neat concept, especially when you get someone as personable as Weiland was.  He actually edited this book, which is a collection of 50 essays by 50 authors about each of the states.  And as a meta bonus, it turns out that the “Delaware” author wrote his essay about two Wilmington booksellers who happened to be sitting at the table with us.

Mudboud by Hillary Jordan: Lastly but so not leastly, I have to give this book a hearty push.  Jordan is a local author (to me) who hails from Tivoli, New York.  I got the pleasure of meeting her at an event we hosted back in February when her book first came out, and not only is she a lovely person, she wrote this amazing book that has seriously stuck with me all these months later.  At the New Jersey show, she was awarded best fiction book of the year for her tale of a family living in the Mississippi Delta after World War II.  It’s beautiful and heartbreaking, and I highly recommend you pick up a copy as soon as possible.

There are your tasks to take on until such time as I’ve conqored the back-up in my Google Reader.

17 Sep

Gone Fishing. And by “fishing” I mean working.

Posted by Noelle in Uncategorized.

This Thursday through Monday, I’ll be gone off at trade shows for work.  First I’m going to lovely Boston, followed by even lovlier Cherry Hill, New Jersey!  Becasue the nature of these shows means I’m standing all day and nowhere near a computer, there’s a good chance I may not blog, (not that I EVER do that from work…) and a better chance that I’m not going to get to read yours while my reader fills itself to the brim.  So if there’s something I should know about, leave me a comment, and I’ll come check it out when I get a mo’!  Otherwise, I’ll come back to my reglarly scheduled life next week.

17 Sep

Mommypants

Posted by Noelle in Drop Everything And Read, Thirtysomething. Tagged: .

After work on Friday, I took a journey to the wilds of New Jersey to do some new-apartment shopping with my mother and the IKEA that’s oh so close to where I grew up.  Because I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, we took a leisurely stroll through the showroom, where everything’s laid out for you.  At the mid-way point, the store features children’s items for the rooms of children or adults with a strong sense of whimsy.  I almost started to look at some of that stuff when I had the epiphany that my sense of style does not encompass the whimsy.  So we sailed on by.

On Tuesday after work, I went shopping at the local grocery store to pick up some cheese.   I keep four reusable totes in my car, so since I was only buying some cheese, I just took the bag that was on top of the pile, the Captain Underpants tote I got from Scholastic at some trade show or another.  It’s my favorite and least favorite bag because it always gets comments, which can be fun, but half the time I’m in the grocery shopping zone and not interested in answering questions about my shopping bags.  Also, like I mentioned in the paragraph above, I’m not really one to go for the whimsy.

Today, when I was packing my bag, the girl at the register said she loved it and wanted to know where I got it.

I told her that I work in the book industry, so it was just one of those things that I picked up along the way somewhere.

She told me that she thought it was really cute, and practical, too.  Then she asked me if I ever got other Captain Underpants stuff.  I told her that at one point I had received some temporary tattoos featuring the little bugger.

Then she looked at me and said, “your kids must love you.”

I kinda looked at her silly while trying to figure out if she knew something I didn’t.  Did I inadvertently say that I was in the teaching rather than the book industry?  No, probably not.  So the only other thing must have been that she mistook me for somebody’s mother, a concept that I can’t even conceptualize.

I know that I live in the ‘burbs and that when you’re 30 and live there, it’s more likely than not that you’re a breeder.  But I always assumed I gave off a strong “single and loving it” vibe.  Finally after a moment, I told the checkout girl, “I actually don’t have kids.  I don’t even know any kids.  I just have the bag.”  And she looked at me like that was the saddest thing in the world, whereas I’m petty confident that being child-free is the reason that I love life.  There’s just something great about having grown-up responsibilities, but not being responsible for anyone else.

So no, I won’t be decorating my new apartment with Pez dispensers (although I used to work with a guy who did that, and it looked great, but he also makes his living voicing an animated milkshake.)  And I won’t be getting a race car bed, despite the fact that I rent instead of own, and I can guarantee you that I will not be getting knocked up any time in the foreseeable future.  (Unless Sarah Palin has her way and I am no longer allowed to legally purchase contraception in the form that I prefer.)

But as long as we’re still in this envirornmental crisis, I’ll keep using the totes, although maybe this weekend when I’m at the bookselling trade shows I can pick up one that has a more adult theme to it.

16 Sep

NSFW?

Posted by Noelle in Birmingham, White Box Living. Tagged: .

On Saturday, I was hanging out with a friend from swimming and he asked me about my plans for Sunday.

“I’m going to ask Birmingham to come over to my place and screw.”

“Does that mean you guys are back together?”

“No, it means I have some shelves I need to be put up and I my drill is 100% broken.”

And indeed, on Sunday, Birmingham arrived with his drill, his stud detector, and some caulk.  It was one hot and sweaty day.

First, we screwed in the dining room:

The dining room is mostly behind us. I don't have a table yet, but at least I have shelves!

Then, we screwed in the bathroom:

in all my life I've always wanted a glass canister with cotton balls. Now I have one!

True story: in all my life I've wanted a glass canister with cotton balls. Now I have one!

Then, we screwed in the kitchen:

Twice.

It was spicy.

When we were done screwing, he nailed me in the hall:

That picture reminds me of my time in Paris. It was a very blurry trip.

And then we nailed a little in the bedroom, just to be traditional:

That painting used to be in my Grandpa's living room.

That painting used to be in my Grandpa's living room.

The one place where we didn’t do it was the living room.  My jury’s still out on what to put over my (newly slipcovered and throw pillowed) love seat.  Any ideas?

It's blurry on purpose, I swear.

If you come up with something good, maybe you too can come over and screw.  I’m easy like that.

15 Sep

Ask a Canadian

Posted by Noelle in My Heart Bleeds Blue. Tagged: .

I know that things keep getting political around here, and I sort of apologize for that.  It’s just hard to feel really strongly about something and not think about it all the time.  And one of the things I was thinking about recently was the fact that so many of us Dems are threatening to move to Canada should McCain win the election so we don’t have to deal with four more years of the government trampling on everything we hold dear.  But who really knows anything about Canada?

Many of us are making this rash decision based on little to no information about what actually happens up there. So that’s why I before I packing up all my belongings one more time, I asked the internet’s favorite Canadian, Ben of No Ordinary Rollercoaster, a few questions about his home country.

Before I begin, I need to mention that all I know about Canada is based on Michael Moore movies including “Canadian Bacon,” coverage from the 1992 Calgary Olympics, and John Glass*, the boy I dated at summer camp when I was 13. He never wrote me back over the winter and broke my heart. I blamed your entire country for that for a long time. *not his real name, not that his identity deserves to be protected…

First question!

I figured that John Glass didn’t write me back because Canadians are so far north and they are therefore cold people. Can you refute this claim?
Hm. As far as being cold goes, we have some WWII history that begs to differ. Is it still okay to name drop WWII? It works in Europe… But really, we are a kind, friendly, loving people who like to hug it out to both show affection and save on winter heating bills. I think we can only assume that John Glass died on his way home or was simply a douchebag – we usually isolate all these to Toronto (sorry Torontonians…okay, I’m not really…).

I hear you guys have legal gay marriage over there. How many regular, old-fashioned marriages have fallen apart because of that?
No one gets married here anymore since they let the homos (I can call them that because I am one) get married. Everything Palin says is true – gay marriage DOES devalue the institute of marriage. As a matter of fact, no one even falls in love anymore. We just go around dry-humping maple trees while screaming cuss words and stomping on babies. The Canadian population will not be around for much longer as a result.

Having gay marriage here has had next to no impact on the general population aside from a boost in tourism and annual visits from Rosie O’Donnell and her line of cruise ships. It’s your call on whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

You guys have some of the best comedians in the world: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Canadian_comedians How is it that Canadians are able to crack me so consistently up? Will you continue to do this for me if I move there?
We laugh because we’re nervous. If shit goes down in the US, shit’s gonna go down in Canada.

hahahahahaohgodhelpushahahaha…

That and we’re drunk.

P.S. Why aren’t I on that list? Betcha I’d make the cut if I were fat or french…

Based on what Michael Moore tells me, you all seem like happy hobbits of the north who get free health care, never lock your doors, and generally all get along. Is this an exaggeration?
Yes and no. I think Canadians generally feel safer than Americans but we’re not singing Kumbaya and helping burglars get back on their feet with a hot meal and a fresh set of clothes when they break into our homes. We lock our doors and cars because – as a matter of fact! – we’re in civilization.

The health care action up here is pretty swell though. My brother had to pay something like $20,000 when he broke his collarbone in Pennsylvania. Here, you pay in drugged-up small talk with overzealous nurses and extreme parental worrying.

Are there any parts of Canada where people don’t say “eh” all the time? And how come most of you live so close to the American border, but that particular tic doesn’t seem to pass over?
Eh is kind of a myth. Even when people DO say it, it’s such a cliché that it rarely happens again. Plus, it’s not used as a tic so much as a “don’t you think?”, “isn’t it?”, or “huh?”. The Eh is too important to just throw around willy-nilly.

It hasn’t crossed the border because gas is too expensive and the last time it tried, it got an incredibly invasive examination at customs.

Who’s the best Canadian MP?
For rock star qualities, it has to be Danny Williams. Yes – I know he’s not an MP but he’s one of the most recognizable politicians in Canada despite being at the provincial level.

He’s the billionaire, Rhodes scholar, premier of Newfoundland who basically shouts at Prime Minister Harper about screwing over the Atlantic provinces by saying things like, “Give me a break, Steve…” and starting the ABC – Anything But Conservative voting campaign.

He’s vocal, he’s down-home, he knows his constituents and he’s got nothing to lose.
Note from Noelle: I was looking for the answer “Carolyn Bennett,” but I guess the best thing about her is her name, not her politics…

Are there any other good politicians we should know about? And do you have any aerial-wolf hunting crazy-eyed hockey moms hiding in your government? I need to be certain that they won’t be picked out of the blue to run for the second-highest office in the land.
Scott Brison is our openly gay MP. He had a big, almost celebrity, gay wedding last year that was all fancy and secretive. He’s the J-Lo of politicians. Well, he is if my vote counts for anything.

Peter McKay is pretty popular around these parts too. They try to paint him as the heartthrob politician but it’s mostly because there’s so little competition.

As for the aerial-wolf hunting crazy-eyed hockey moms, yes – we have those but they don’t aerial wolf hunt and they’re too busy driving their kids to 5am practices to run for office. Thankfully.

Maple leaves: awesome or fantastic?
Stuff we rake off our lawns with very little regard.

Now Maple SYRUP on the other hand…AWESOME FANTASTIC.

My sister reminds me that your country is hosting the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver. If I could maybe real quick get really good at the bobsleigh or something so I can participate, will Canada allow me on the team if I move there?
Probably not. We don’t like to support athletes of any kind. Instead of competing really hard (like Alexandre Despatie’s body) at the Olympic level, we tend to just like to show up to support the other countries. I mean, somebody’s got to come in fourth.

Almost a year ago I drove from Detroit to Niagara Falls by way of Canada. It was kind of fun until we had to wait almost two hours to cross the border on the way home. But that’s not my question. I spent the night on the Canadian side of the falls, which is admittedly the better side. Even if Obama wins the election, I might move to Canada just for the bragging rights of that side of the falls. But seriously, what’s the deal with all the wax museums? Do they exist in other parts of your fine country?
Umm…I don’t know where the closest wax museum would be. Maybe Montréal would be the furthest east? We tend to not waste our time on wax creations when there are things to eat and drink. I can’t speak to the rest of the country since I’ve never been further west than Ontario.

Even though I love Canada, it’s too damn expensive to travel though. You can fly through continental Europe for less than it takes to get to Vancouver. Not cool, giant homeland. Not cool.

Ben, thanks so much for those thoughtful answers!  If the swing states don’t get their act together, I’ll be applying for citizenship on November 5th.

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