I’m back in the basement attempting to piece together my final paper for my history class. It’s worth 40% of my grade so I really should be buckling down and getting it done as opposed to blogging. However, I’ve learned a horrid truth about myself. If procrastination can be done, it will be done. I’m pulling a solid B in the class so I really do need to work my ass off on this paper to at least maintain the GPA. I’d prefer an A (who wouldn’t) but just can’t see that happening for this course. I guess I’ll just have to learn to live with the disappointment.

Like a good little girl I headed off to the dentist this morning and was poked and prodded with shiny implements. Thanks to a sadistic dentist I had as a child I’m not the biggest fan of the field of dentistry. For years I was the adult blubbering like a child in the patient chair whenever I had to visit a dentist. I only went if something had gone horribly wrong and I had to go. Like when I broke a tooth eating a piece of pizza. Being a genetic freak with no adult teeth – baby teeth are not designed to last into your thirties – I need to visit the dentist frequently for preventative maintenance and other fun treatments.

Thanks to a recommendation from Nana when I was living in Winnipeg I lucked upon an excellent dentist. He was patient and careful. Often his attentions were almost painless. I think he’s the reason I don’t turn into a bundle of jelly when ever I have to visit a dentist now. I can honestly say I was sad to loose him as a dentist when we moved from the ‘Peg to Club Ed.

After breaking another tooth at work shortly after I landed in Edmonton I asked my friends and co-workers for a recommendation. They all spoke highly of a dentist that shared office space with the company I was working for. Everyone said he was wonderful and most brought their entire families to him for appointments. When I called he was booked solid and instead recommended a young dentist who was also located in the building. No one I worked with had ever heard of him.

Desperate, I called the young dentist and set an appointment for a few minutes later. I toddled down the hallway and landed in his chair. He was smart enough to pick up on both the severe pain and the fear. So he sat down beside me and explained everything he needed to do, what I could expect, and loaded me up with enough freezing medication to ensure I was feeling no pain when the drill started. Needless to say he did a great job. I’ve been returning to his offices multiple times a year. We’ve been through cleanings, reconstructions, and crowns together. In a few weeks, we’ll start the fun of crowning 2 new teeth (our insurance will only cover the cost of 2 a year).

I’m such a glutton for punishment that I scheduled the first appointment 1.5 hours after I finish my exams.

Those who’ve been paying attention in the Canadian blogosphere are likely well aware of this issue.  For my readers who may not float around politically slanted blogs as often as I do this may be new.

I may not read some of these authors frequently (or in some cases, at all).  I certainly don’t agree with everything written by those I do read.  However, there are many aspects of this lawsuit and the underlying concept that speech should be censored that should be of concern to us all.  Since there’s already so many postings on the topic of the Canadian Human Rights Commission behaviour of late [here, here, here, here, here, and here for starters], I’ll skip over Warman’s association with the CHRC and the battles in which he’s currently embroiled as plaintiff in that arena.

What does concern me is the pattern of behaviour that has been in evidence since the early-to-mid 1990’s.   For how much longer will we allow this to continue in Canada?

First step: silence dissenting opinions – bloggers, publishers, authors and columnists of national magazines and newspapers – no one is safe.

Second step: censor books.  Remove from public libraries materials that some might find offensive.  Oh wait, that’s already been tried.  The BC Gov’t had to draft and enact a law specifically designed to protect libraries from being forced to comply with requests to remove books from their  shelves by public citizens who happen to be suing the book’s author.

Third step: dictate what we’re supposed to think and feel and how we are to behave?

Section 2, Fundamental Freedoms, of the Canadian charter of rights and freedoms guarantees all Canadians “freedom of thought, belief, opinion and expression, including freedom of the press and other media of communication“.    The absolute right to free speech is limited to politicians statements within the House of Commons.  All other Canadians share limitations on what Section 2b of the Charter will cover.  Despite what has been bandied about in past CHRC tribunals regarding the concept of free speech, it is as much of a Canadian value as an American one.  The Canadian right to free speech may not be as old or ingrained as the US right – the Canadian charter wasn’t made official until 1982 – and does not protect “Hate speech”.

‘Twas (I believe) Voltaire who stated: ‘I don’t agree with what you have to say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.’  Many military members I’ve met over the years have spouted this same phrase as an underlying defense for why they willingly go or do whatever the Canadian government tells them to – despite their personal beliefs.

Keeping all this in mind, I’d ask those of you who aren’t already aware of the battles being fought to take a few minutes to visit those being sued to learn more about the accusations.   If you’re able, please consider donating to their cause.

• Ezra Levant
• FreeDominion.ca
• Jonathan Kay of the National Post
• Kate McMillan of Small Dead Animals
• Kathy Shaidle of FiveFeetOfFury.com

h/t to the broomking

I landed at midnight last night and arrived home just before 1am MT. Having just crossed 3 timezones my body was suffering under the delusion that it was past 4am AT when I finally crawled into bed. I started my day at 7am AT. Have I mentioned I don’t have any luck trying to sleep on planes?

Late night and early morning flights always remind me just how far outside of Edmonton the Edmonton International Airport is located. There’s nothing quite like driving a half an hour to get to the city limits (30 mins if there’s no traffic, over an hour during daylight) and another 20-30 minutes to reach the airport when you have a 6am flight and need to be at the airport 2 hours before departure.

Poor Drew had to be at work at 0 dark 30 for mandatory time on the rifle range and was not amused. He was less amused when he discovered – upon arriving to an empty parking lot at work – that he’d set the alarm clock an hour early and landed at the office 45 minutes before he was supposed to be there.

I was going to drop into work for an afternoon seminar on copyright law but didn’t even hear the alarm go off. I slept for approximately 12 hours and missed the session.

And now I can’t sleep. Crossing time zones is always evil. Of course traveling from the east coast to the west coast is not nearly as disruptive to the internal clock as traveling to India or the Philippines was. I do have a few days off before I head back to work on Monday, so it’s not all bad.

What’s bad is my 10am appointment with the dentist. Yep, it’s that time of year again…

While I was away someone stole my neighbours’ white pomeranian.

According to Drew, the dog had been missing since the weekend. Our neighbours had thought that someone (they or the mail carrier) had inadvertently left the gate open. They figured she’d gotten out of the fenced yard and was off wandering. E and V have a large fence in the backyard and a small 2 foot one in the front. Fluffy was in the front yard at the time. Normally she’s not left outside on her own but V has been quite ill and didn’t stay outside with her that day. So, when V opened the door a few minutes later to let her back into the house, she discovered the pooch was missing. That started an immediate panic. E hadn’t returned from work. Friends and neighbours were rounded up to help V search for the dog. Calls were placed to the city pound and SPCA. Fluffy has both a collar and a tattoo so if she was found and turned in to the city, they’d be able to find her.

People searched for days with no results. The city’s Web site listing lost and found pets was checked multiple times a day. No mugshot of Fluffy appeared on the site.

V was in a panic. She’s had Fluffy for years. Since her diagnosis last year Fluff has been her constant companion while E is at work.

Today as E was driving home from work he saw a couple walking a dog that looked suspiciously like Fluffy. He pulled over and called the dog. Fluff rushed over to him immediately. Then he was told a story. Apparently the couple walking Fluff had been approached by a man attempting to sell the dog just off the main road running through our area. They don’t know how many people he approached before he happened upon them. They were suspicious and refused to pay for Fluffy. Eventually, he gave Fluffy to them. They suspected she might have been stolen directly from the yard (pulled over the fence)and handed the dog back to E. He brought her home to V.

Of course, I’m still wondering why they never called the number on Fluffy’s collar once they had her. Revise that. I’m a bit hazy on whether or not she still had her collar. Still, if they really were suspicious of the dogs origins, you’d think they’d have reported her to the city pound. Her tattoo could have been easily traced and her owners found.