facebook is a time machine

I have recently been sucked into the vortex that is Facebook and I've discovered something: Facebook is a time machine. The cool thing about it is that it takes you back to people you've lost touch with, to places you haven't been in a long time. It might even take you all the way back to a place 'where everybody knows your name'.

But the other thing about Facebook is that it's a time machine. It's making me feel old.

It's pulling me slightly out of phase, convincing me that parallel universes do in fact exist. There are people I haven't seen in years. In my head they are as I left them -- 15 or 16 and probably going camping. On Facebook they're suddenly halfway through College. How can this be? Time suddenly moves very quickly. In reconnecting with old friends I find I have to learn them all over again. They are not who they were, and mercifully neither am I.

Facebook also bares a startling resemblance to certain aspects of high school. (Time travel has always had its dangers.) I find I'm torn -- do I stick with it and see if high school is different now that we're all grown up? It reminds me of Eliot, "Only through time, time is conquered."

It is good to see old friends again, but I can't help feeling like I'm walking those old halls asking someone to sign my yearbook.

use the floss, Luke

Fresh from the dentist today I went to restock my floss. When I opened up my new pack of Crest Glide Deep Clean Cool Mint it looked so much like a little droid there was only one rational thing to do: photo shoot! Don't you think it looks like a little droid? (Maybe it's just the fluoride rinse talking.) Ah well, how often is floss fun, I mean really? Is this the floss of the future? Is it A New Hope? Have we stumble upon the final frontier of .... floss?

Oh wait, can't mix my Sci-Fi metaphors. That's just not cool.

sun ran

It's hard to believe it that's time of year again, but this morning we headed down to Vancouver to join
50 000 other people in the 10km Vancouver Sun Run. What a great day. The weather this year was perfect. Some years there is a suspicious lack of sun and I wonder if the name of the race is merely wishful thinking. We got off to a slower start this year -- almost 20 after 10 before they let us go, but once things get moving it never takes long. The Sun Run is an incredibly beautiful route and as Shannon pointed out we got to have our own little cherry blossom festival and tulip festival along the route.

We had our very own paparazzi following us around and he does good work. Once he's got the photos online I'll steal a few. For now, while we're not in the photo above, you get the idea. If you ever get a chance to do the run, I highly recommend it. (Even if you have bad knees like I do and spend the rest of the afternoon shuffling around like an old woman in slippers.) It's still worth it.

happy. Easter.

chocolate bar throws down

Update: Turns out there a little test you can take to see if you qualify to buy a Yorkie. The video is on YouTube. Thanks to Gord for finding it.

Yesterday we were out running errands and Kendra noticed a Celtic Bakery. We decided to check it out. In addition to the bakery they import various British things. In particular they had an impressive selection of British candy and confectionary. Ah the joy of staring at a whole shelf full of your childhood -- Fruit Pastilles, Cadbury's buttons, jelly babies, Jaffa Cakes!

And then in midst of all of it, was this:

Clearly there had been a mistake. A chocolate bar NOT for girls? What planet did this thing come from? And who did it think it was anyway? Was it not aware of the long and glorious history shared by chocolate and women throughout the ages?? "Right, " I said to the bar on the shelf. "It's on."

I brought the bar home and took a closer look at the 'No Girls' sign on the package. It appears that not ALL girls were deemed unsuited to the bar, just girls who stand with one hand on their hip while holding a small purse and wearing a shortish skirt. Well, to be honest I can get behind that, not being much into hand-on-hip-purse-toting myself.

Still, it was strange. How could a chocolate bar declare that it was too much for a girl to handle. I mean, really. There was only one thing to do. I had to prove it wrong.
I win.