Maxed Out

Oh to be in Whistler now that Valentine’s Day is near. I don’t know anyone who won’t admit to being just the tiniest bit ambivalent about Valentine’s Day.

Finally! The issue is broached, the floodgates are open, we’re talkin’ about the elephant in the parlour. Thank you Ms. deSousa.

There are a lot worse things about the outcome of this week’s federal oh-no Canada election than the somber reality of rolling the phrase Prime Minister Harper round and round a brain unapologetically small-l liberal.

For reasons that still aren’t entirely clear to me, I got up this morning – actually tomorrow morning which will be this morning by the time Pique rolls onto its stands sometime later tomorrow, which is to say today… unless you waited until Friday to

Suppose you work like a dog, trying desperately to cram three weeks of work into a single week in a pointless attempt to stave off facing six weeks of piled-up work when you get back from your one week holiday – feel free to diagram that if you

So let’s suppose for a minute you’re a parent. Hey, for a lot of you, this shouldn’t be much of a stretch; you are parents. But let’s suppose for a minute you’re a parent of a boy child.

Well, here we are, another year. And while it may seem like 2005 was several years long, it actually went by in a blink of an eye. Okay, it went by like a sharp stick in an eye.

Well, here we are, another year. And while it may seem like 2005 was several years long, it actually went by in a blink of an eye. Okay, it went by like a sharp stick in an eye.

When I was as small a child as I can remember ever being, well before I understood Christmas to be the stressful holiday it seems to have become for adult people, the days leading up to the Big Event filled me with one overriding fear.

The deja vuness of it all didn’t really strike me until I drove down to Vancouver on Monday. There’s another election coming.