The other day, I gave my eight-year-old nephew an awesome present for his birthday. One I wished for at eight years old. One I could never have as a kid, because of six letters: D, A, H, L, I, A.

I gave him a sign for his bedroom door – with his name on it – even though he too has a unique name.

You see, in a futile effort to be uncommon, there is the mutilation of common names like, say, Khrystee and Timh. And then, with the advent of celebrity baby (read: publicity) names such as Kyd, Apple, Kal-El, and Moonblood, toy and novelty manufacturers have finally accepted that there are more than 20 names out there. Hence, they now give stickers to spell your own moniker.

So, great gift, right? It was … until the not-yet-even-a-tween opened the iPod touch from his mom.

With all this G20 Armageddon madness happening in Toronto right now, it seems entirely appropriate that I write about…

Plastic bags.

Because you can never have enough bags, but you can certainly have enough G20.

True story: The other day I’m at the pharmacy waiting in line, while the lady in front of me pays for a greeting card. This woman asks the cashier for a bag. The cashier gives the stock-Toronto response, “That’ll be five cents, please.”

(Yeah, you got me. She didn’t actually say “please.” Please isn’t really part of any stock-Toronto vernacular, but that’s another story.)

Your poster is everywhere. Three thousand people are screaming for you, throwing their barely-there clothes at you.

You’re high, not only from the excitement, but the drugs too – drugs you got for free like heroin, cocaine, ecstasy, and plain-old marijuana.

They think you’re a rock star. You forget you’re faking it.

Some people became famous by pretending to be famous. “Tyler,” a former male supermodel-turned actor, recalls his days “dancing for dollars” in Milan.

You make a dinner reservation, but have to wait six months to get in.

Then you arrive on time for your reservation, only to sit there for two hours before getting seated at your table.

You order food. The waiter is rude. Presentation is half-ass. And the dinner leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You pay through the roof. Didn’t like the food. And wasted your time.

Would you return to a restaurant like that? Would you deal with a business like that? That service is not acceptable.

So why do we accept that from so many doctors in Canada?

25. i typically read magazines from back to front. so i thought you may like to read my list that way too…

24. as a little girl, i often tried to sneak into the boys' washroom, just to make sure that all boys actually had peni…

23. i don't believe the plural of penis should be penises, rather i strongly avow it should be peni [pronounced: peen-eye].

22. i have always excelled at grammar... and could probably write a book on textbook grammar... yet i often choose not to adhere to any rules of grammar… "..." is pretty much all i need... so i’m goin’ commando with the grammar today…

A while back, prominent Egyptian lawyer and women’s rights activist, Nagla Al-Imam, proposed that young Arab men should sexually harass Israeli girls as a means in the resistance against Israel.

And though I would like to take credit for the clever facetiousness, in calling Al-Imam both prominent and a women’s rights activist, I am sadly just stating the facts.

There’s a quote making the retweet rounds on Twitter:

Running is a great metaphor for life, because you get out of it what you put into it.
- Oprah Winfrey

Yes, the omnipotent, omnivore Oprah, in all her wisdom, has broken down life for all of her (Twitter) followers to understand. Turns out, the big secret we’ve all been looking for, almost managed to run away from us.

Life is just like running.

For the record, I side more with Team Forrest on this one.

Ever look at a family and wish yours could be just like that one?

You dream that yours could be just like that TV-perfect family: Sunday dinner get-togethers, always cheering each other on, always helping each other out…

Ahhh, if only.

Because your family is dysfunctional, right?

Well, mine is.

My parents are married. I think it’s going on 100 years. Not sure. But, they can’t take offence - neither of them remember my age. I’m lucky if one of them even gets my name right - on the second try.

Dearest Lovelies,

I apologize for the time between articles, but my dad just had heart surgery yesterday. Triple bypass we thought. Then inadvertently found out today that it was quadruple. So thank you to the doctors for potentially saving my father's life, and for keeping such a good secret!

Anyway, he is still in the ICU, but things seem okay. Once things settle down, I'll whip up another order for all my lovelies.

Thanks for checking in, and keep checking back.

Meanwhile - if you haven't already - take a look around the site. Maybe something will whet your appetite.
-dahliaxoxo

Ever hear of the Sámi people in Sweden?

Does anyone know how the Basques are treated in Spain?

The Sámi (or Laplanders) are indigenous peoples of Sweden and the largest indigenous ethnic group in Europe.

Sweden is touted as one of the most egalitarian countries in the world; yet, the inequality with which the Sámi are treated is astonishing. Even though legally entitled, their rights have been unafforded.

Many haven't even heard of the Basque people. According to international reports they are ill-treated and tortured by Spain.