. . . is when you look at somebody’s vacation photos with interest.

. . . is when somebody is telling you their dreams and you are listening with interest. 💑

Unless, of course, you are an analyst. 😱

The massage therapist turned out to be a very chatty person. I’d never met anybody who talked as much in a quiet massage room with dimmed lighting and ambient music. 

First, she informed me that I have “an extremely heavy accent” and demanded to know how that came about.

Then, she asked me the weirdest question any massage therapist ever asked me.

“Do you still work?” she inquired.

It’s the word “still” that confused me. There is no way I look over 65 years of age. But who else can you ask if they STILL work but a retirement age person?

I made another appointment with this massage therapist, though, because she is very good at what she does. An artist should be allowed to have her small foibles, I guess.

Today, I slept until 10:30, then had a long, lazy breakfast with my husband, and am now at my salon for a pedicure and a massage. After that, I’m going shopping.

My students often complain that my Hispanic Civilization course is too dark. They are right. If you are not already wildly enthusiastic about the culture, it’s easy to get tired of all the genocide, dictatorships, military coups, economic misery, and corruption. I’ve been trying at least to end the course on a positive note, but in the year that passed since I taught that course, the already slim reasons for enthusiasm evaporated.

Before, I could end the course with, “Finally, Spain established a functioning democracy. The economy is growing, and Spain overcame its long-lasting marginalization in Europe when it became not only a member of the EU but its model member and success story.”

All that is now shot to hell because Spain hasn’t been able to come up with a government in over 6 months, its economy is in shambles, and it’s once again marginalized in Europe.

Or I could say something like, “There is hope that the government of Evo Morales will improve the standard of living of the indigenous population of Bolivia, etc”, but Evo Morales has turned into the same ridiculous type of dictator we see throughout the course, and the whole of Bolivia is following, with great dismay the pathetic soap opera of Evo and his idiot mistress.

At least, I could say, “El Chapo has been captured”, but we all know how that ended.

Venezuela is falling apart, Cuba sucks as much as ever, and Argentina’s narrow escape from the clutches of Putin is hardly enough to cause massive enthusiasm. I’m afraid my course will be more negative and depressing than ever. What am I to say at the end of the semester? “But the literature that comes out of all this is sensational”? I’ll feel like a dumbass.

When Nadiya Savchenko returned home to Ukraine from Russian captivity, she was greeted by happy, adoring crowds. The president himself went to fetch her in his airplane, she was drowned in flowers, every TV station wants to interview her, people are going nuts with joy.

At the same time, the two Russian POWs who were exchanged for Nadiya and returned home to Russia were not greeted by anybody except their mildly indifferent wives. Nobody talks about them, it is as if they didn’t exist. 

This is not strange if we remember that the existence of POWs was considered shameful back in the USSR. A Soviet soldier was expected to die before he got himself captured. The liberated Soviet POWs were considered traitors and were sent to concentration camps back in the USSR.

But hey, this isn’t just a Soviet thing. Isn’t there a presidential candidate who agrees with Stalin that POWs are contemptible because they allowed themselves to be captured?

Montreal’s Taxi Bureau is a huge embarrassment. Inspectors are stalking and intimidating people they suspect of using Uber. The other day, these idiots cornered a famous Italian chef who was visiting the city.

Montreal was hosting the huge C2 conference for the past 3 days (and my sister attended, by the way, because she is an important business woman), and the Taxi Bureau decided it was a good thing to do some Uber-hunting among the visitors from all over the world.

Montreal is the best city in the hemisphere but it does tend to go nuts in a regulation frenzy. As you might remember, the city has already outlawed food trucks and fireplaces. And words like chowder and lasagna.

Here is a link but it’s in French.

So I no longer can make my favorite dishes that take hours to cook and many flavors to develop. These dishes need attention and dedication but they have lost to a smiley, blue-eyed competitor with huge cheeks who needs me more. 

As a result, I started using the slow cooker. I made two different kinds of pot roast in it (on different occasions, obviously). It tasted very good, especially the one where I cooked the roast in red wine. Here is the problem, though. The food ends up looking sad and boring. Everything ends up being the same color. Does anybody know how to combat this issue? Is there an obvious solution here that I’m blanking on?

Today work email and social networks brought the following insights from my hugely Liberal colleagues:

1. Evolution is just a matter of opinion.
2. Rauner is the hero of the people of Illinois.
3. Rauner is the best.
4. Rauner is totally the best.
5. Women who abort are still immoral.

I’m sure there are people on campus who espouse other points of view. Maybe I will even hear from them at some point in time. I mean, it’s only been seven years. That’s no time at all for raging liberalism to manifest itself.

And now please excuse me, I need to go listen to some recordings of Bernie’s speeches to make myself feel less alienated.

P.S. This is a sarcastic post, in case anybody is wondering.

I’m starting to think that all of these apocalyptic  (and largely fake) articles about drug-resistant bacteria, swine flu, killer bees, etc are a marketing device. People who think the end is near are more likely to make ill-considered purchases. If horror is inevitable, why not just go and buy XYZ while one still can enjoy it?

A constant low-grade anxiety is very conducive to unbridled shopping.