Note my youngest offspring is trying to hide something in his pocket. (as usual)

The Mama: Whatever it is, take it out, and hand it to me slowly (this is the best way to do it in case something alive happens to be handed to the mama).

Out comes a plastic gun. I have no time to give the horrified routine. I have no time for lectures or anger. One raised eyebrow is the very best I can do. So… I continue my morning: I drive to work, and attempt to find parking. (As usual) I am forced quite a ways from my building. I grab my laptop, manage to get my purse off the floor (sans a deadly tipped over handbag disaster), shut and lock the car door, and JUST as I’m about to briskly walk down the block, I see the plastic gun. Granted, nobody would probably think any soul driving a 98 Toyota with carseats in the back would be idiotic enough to leave a real weapon in plain sight on the passenger seat, however it’s not something to take chances with. So… I re-open the door, bend over the front seat and grab the gun. Where? I ask myself…. Where to put this? (conscious that the time is ticking and I’d like to save enough to grab a coffee) After a moment of pondering, looking at this gun, I lean over the back seat and shove it under a picnic blanket that’s sitting there. Very gratifying. If I were ever a gansta, I’d be an exceptional one… All in a morning’s work. (smiling to self)… Concealing weapons in the blink of an eye…

and.

of course.

as i look up,

out the car window…

A construction guy who is working beside my car - above ground doing something with a load of sparks and metal… has been observing me as I’ve frantically leaned over, stared nervously at this weapon, and shoved it under the blanket in my backseat. Nice work, Mama. Nice.

(the fbi was NOT called - but I’m still expecting it)

Anyhow - just marveling at the communication channels of the world - ones that I’ve woven myself into. I am right now drinking coffee (of the Kick Ass sort) from a mermaid cup at my kitchen table - it’s barely 6 in the morning here in the Westernmost part of Canada… I’ve sent a couple of emails from my laptop - keyed in a couple of mobile texts, locally… msn’d a personal “hey” to my writing counterpart in our England office (where our French team also works - so I said hi to French people, too!)… Twittered a line (140 characters of inconsequential Deanna morning drivel)… and thought I’d blog for a sec. I think I’ll leave facebook alone this morning -’tis only so much of the communication the world needs from moi.

Crazy. And cool. (But mostly crazy.) 

(for example, my query of the day generally sounds something like: “what was the best part of this day - the bit you’ll keep in your head forever…” - CLEARLY far too whimsical for the demographic…)

Nevertheless, when he comes up to me and wraps his arms around me and says, “Mommy, can I ask you a question?” - just by default, my heart throws my head the best moments of the day so far. “Yes!” I say, pondering which to choose…

Alas - the question was unexpected. “Which island would you choose - One made of elephant poo? Or one made of foot fungus?” Oh yes… the philosophical wrestling begins… 

There is no good answer - and to my chagrin, I answered his question as he usually answers mine. With exasperation and a ”I don’t know….”

What if you could wake up and: 

• One of the MAC gurus just happened to be visiting as you were making a wee purchase, decided YOUR LIPS should be THEIR TESTERS and sent you free lipstick for the rest of your life? 
• Bono finally wrote back.  And he’s coming tomorrow.
• That last 15 pounds melted whilst you were dreaming about your date with Bono.
• You were flooded with that freaky fab intense teenage kinda love (but WITH brains this time - not necessarily with Bono if he’s - gasp - not your type…).
• Your entire house (including the laundry…. folded) was spotless leaving you free to experiment with martini mixes.
• You suddenly could play a kick ass game of Mario Kart and beat the hell out of your friends (or offspring) with hardly any effort.

what would be your uber-sudden overnight fast lane wish?

It’s been a summer where I’ve gone back in time a bit.  (Not in the delusional sense… Whilst jazzed about a slight wrinkle in time, I’m still clear that I’ll never pull off a bikini and that botox needles are simply a few birthday cakes away.)

Don’t immediately cringe when I make the reference, but it’s like life today has a bit of the late ’80’s injected into it.  This epiphany began innocently enough with a magazine spread - all the “feature” items were oh so ’80’s… but I didn’t realize the seriousness of the situation until I was recently traipsing through the mall.  All late 80’s/early 90’s - more than a little blip on the fashion screen.  Bright colors - synthetic material - stilettos and pointy toes…. crazy.  Naturally, nobody will ever do that HAIR again.  But I’ve been sort of wooed back into that late 80’s groove….

Here are my most excellent summer things - that can be traced back to that time:

• a large metallic purse
• a blackberry (texting is almost like passing notes in high school)
• cold beverages (especially martinis & bellinis)
• evening walks along hot pavement with that magic aura of possibility
• re-introduction to my fave bands… U2, Love & Rockets, Stone Roses… and an intro to The Pixies (my new faves!)
• (and finally, the ultimate in 80’s and 90’s…) MADONNA! Madonna Hard Candy Tour tix.  Oh  yes.  Madonna.  For the MGM Grand Vegas Show.  True story.

And so, while some of that era’s memories haunt me… a hard core revitalization of the past may just be in good order.  It’s nice to do all the good things more than once, don’t you think?

Maxim - Always excellent in its wit, though the amount of mostly nude gorgeous women often causes passengers sitting beside me to do a double take.  Best article?  I like the one about Coldplay.  Perhaps for its first sentence.  (I’m not typing it.  Go buy the mag.)

Details - The best of the best  (and the same company as GQ).  I don’t know if this has ever graced the spot beside my airplane puke bag before.  But it will from now on.  Start to finish it was good enough that when the flight crew asked us to grab our personal belongings, I grabbed it back and shoved it in my shiny new handbag - proud to have made the discovery of the edgy voice and super illuminating article titled “Meet the Men Who Want to [get with] Your Wife”.  I even brought it out during martini hour and the girls and I had a lengthy discussion and debate about the topic. 

GQ - A bit too hormonal… more model shots than wit.  And I’m not really into all the uber-cool, sleek suits that their 16 year old models don.  But still worth the hefty newsstand price, I’d say.  I liked the ”letter from the editor” bit the best, I’d say.  Political - but relevant.  And, in spots, creeping up on edgy…

Esquire - I laughed OUT LOUD (in a near hysterical manner at 37,000 feet) at Mike Myer’s piece.  Almost every inch of this is worth reading twice.

And so, yes… maybe label me a defector.  But if you know of any women’s magazines with even HALF the tongue and cheek sharp, savvy wit that goes into these mags, please let me know.

On a slightly less witty note, go check out my latest article in Okanagan Life Magazine.  It’s one in a bunch of a cool clump of articles of some “Really Good Ideas”… Once you’re done absorbing all of the brilliant proposals, please feel free to leave ridiculously complimentary comments on the blog there. 

After the day’s ordeal (which was both sad and lovely - I got to see so much of my family), when I returned to the rental place (being so pleased with myself for having managed all the car rental stuff, navigating of strange highways alone, and for finding my way back), I was looking forward to getting my gas money deposit back so I could justify the creme brule to room service.  T’was not to be.  Of COURSE it t’was not to be!  

“What sort of a person buys the gas from the rental place?!” was heard from several people later on… Because you pay for a full tank of gas up front… and then you don’t get a refund.  Even if you return with more than half a tank.  “But that gas costs more that the CAR RENTAL!”  I told them.  They smiled.  They knew.  What they did NOT anticipate was me walking around the parking lot inquiring if anyone wanted to syphon a half tank of gas…  

• The Listener… what can I say?  Good ears are hard to find and we all need them!  (Beware of those really good listeners who don’t share enough of themselves to make you feel they’re invested in the relationship… you may as well be talking into a mirror - it’s too hard to be able to “give back” - which is a really important part of any relationship). 
• The Idea Generator… with his/her head in the clouds, there will never be a shortage of ridiculous (but maybe fun) things to discuss or laugh at over martinis and lattes.  It might get a bit annoying to have someone around who doesn’t live in the same reality everyone else does… still, a change of perspective can be fun sometimes.
• The Organizer… with his/her head on the ground, these people make the crazy plans happen.  And thank goodness someone does.
• The Crush… everybody should have someone who makes their heart flutter (for example: a partner, non speedo wearing neighbour, Anderson Cooper…) Heart fluttering makes all days better.
• The Rock… there’s gotta be one person you would call no matter what.  Even if you haven’t talked to them in forever, you know how much they adore you (and you them) and thus you could call them up and wherever in the world they were, they’d instantly appear knowing what you need…
• Professional Connection [cook/lawyer/doc/mechanic/plumber/makeup expert/botox provider…] Whatever you AREN’T (in a professional sense), it’s a good idea to collect some of these types of people to compliment your skills. 

But don’t forget to do what all smart lipstick collectors do… Only keep stuff & people!) that makes you feel great about yourself and fits in with your life. 

Maybe you have a red lipstick that was really, really fun for a while, but now, since you cringe at the way that the shade screams and it makes you do a double-take in the mirror, it is reduced to sitting and clogging up premium space in your bathroom drawer.  But don’t feel bad about saying good-bye to it.  You might find another red that makes you feel terrific one day.   

Or a gloss that is constantly accentuating the one thing that you don’t adore about your face?  Pitch it.  This life only has time for stuff that makes us feel really good.

Dear Telus Communications:

(Please pause as I grin.  After you hear my story you will be able to see the irony I find in your name.  Classic paradox.)

We moved six months ago.  Because Telus was not able to offer us the best “bundle” deal, we did not get Telus service in our new location (I would like to stress this point.  We have never, ever had Telus service in the new location).  Indeed, Telus was our service provider in Grande Prairie, however we cancelled it when we moved.

Since we have been in our new house, we have received phone bills for a phantom phone number that was NEVER HOOKED UP.  Further, Telus owed us almost $300 from an overpayment of our home phone bill in Grande Prairie.  If you look at the account number, you will see that we have called repeatedly to get this straightened out.  Repeatedly.  We were assured month after month that you had fixed your error.  You hadn’t… We continued getting phone bills and continued to rip our hair out.  We were stunned at the incompetence of the communication practices between your own departments and with us.

Finally, after our heads had almost imploded with frustration, last month we spoke to someone who listened to our story - yet again - and after many apologies, assured us things were finally taken care of.  Shortly thereafter, our credit cheque was sent, and we enjoyed a blessed month without hearing from you about this phantom phone number.

Apparently I haven’t wasted enough time in futile exasperation attempting communication with you, because the sad story does not end there.  Today I received a letter threatening a collection agency.  I took a deep breath, reminded myself that frowning gives me wrinkles, willed myself to leave what’s left of my hair in place, and called you.  I was disconnected during the first phone call.  The second one was comical - The customer service representative could not speak with me about my issue because, save for her phone, your entire internal communication system was down.  She asked me to phone back another time and I had to laugh.  And then I politely declined.

I’ve already spent too much time on the phone with you.  And I certainly don’t want you to waste any more paper.  If I thought it a possibility, I would ask for some serious hair treatments (to make up for that I have pulled out) and some botox injections (to fill in the wrinkle lines frowning at you has caused).  But what would REALLY make me happy is if you could get your act together and quit sending me stuff.

“Telus Communications.”  Do you see the irony?

Deanna Kent-McDonald

“How is that duck going to choose who he kisses?”  Oy.  I know, I know.  For all of you who are (like me) concerned with the obvious retort, which would begin with something like “What makes you think the BOY chooses?  Girls can pick, too…”, I can only tell you I promise to deal with that at another time. 

Instead, I said, “He’ll pick who he likes best.”  And for a Kindergarten boy, that was all the answer that was needed.  But it got me to thinking.  How do we choose “who we’re going to kiss”?

I found a little article on Wikipeda … so I’ll dish the condensed version… It’s ONLY concerned with physical attraction - (which, I surmise, is what ducks would be also be concerned with since I’ve never seen them in deep philosophical conversation):

What Determines Female Attractiveness?

• youthful appearance (full lips, clear smooth skin, clear eyes, good muscle tone)
• proportion of body mass to body structure (that dreaded BMI index is apparently a good guide here)
• waist hip ratio (take a peek at Venus de Milo for an example)
• height (many men are more attracted to women of shorter statures than themselves)
• facial influences (features that are ‘typical & familiar’)

What Determines Male Attractiveness?

• Body (a smaller waist, broad shoulders, slightly muscular)
• Face (women tend to prefer more masculine features –strong jaw, strong brow — during the fertile periods of their cycles)
• Height (Cosmo once published an article saying women prefer men who are 1.1x their height - but posture is important - women like the appearance of confidence, strength & a powerful bearing)

Although it is not a PHYSICAL feature, it is so very important and deserves mentioning… Lipstick appreciation is mandatory… (perhaps not so much for ducks). But that’s for a whole ‘nother blog… 

Three of my fave famous types: