Public grooming: bad. CityLine: Good!

What to write, what to write? It’s not easy you know. I don’t want to take up word space just because it’s there. Blabbing on like a Vanity Fair essay seems like a waste of time—both yours and mine—so I won’t do it.

“If you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say anything at all”, right? Wise words. And widely used by mother’s explaining to their children that hateful speak is very unbecoming. Same applies here. If it ain’t good, what’s the point?

So I’m always thinking of you, my loyal reader, and how I might be able to offer you something new—like a steamy casserole recipe, say, or, something trendy such as Brazilian rum and the hot cocktails to make with it.

But when it came time to write today’s post I must say, I was a bit at a loss.

Shall I regale them with tales from my virgin expedition to T&T Supermarket this past Friday? (Condensed version: prepared sushi, dumplings and spring rolls, YUCK!; fish counter, butcher shop and frozen items, YUM!)

Should I share my thoughts on etiquette and human behaviour, before launching into a 1000 word diatribe encompassing the foods one should not consume while waiting in the reception area of a local spa? (Falafel anyone?)

Let’s say it together:

“I will not eat a falafel sandwich at the spa.” Repeat until behaviour becomes habitual.

It’s like those oblivious folk who clip their finger nails on public transit. How is it that you just fell off the turnip truck and landed right beside me on the subway? The logistics of making that happen seem overwhelmingly difficult, yet here you are, shooting razor sharp pieces of dead skin cells at weary city travelers, with no conscious thought on the utter repulsive nature of your actions.

But like I said, nothing good, nothing at all.

And it just so happens that there is a wedge of good shoved into the middle of this January Monday.

Seems I’m going to be starring in my own episode of, wait for it, CityLine. Yes, starring thank you.

The call came in right as I was hankering down to write terribly mean things about the stupid actions of mediocre people. (There’s always tomorrow.)

After speaking briefly with the producer she scheduled me for the February 9, 2009 show. I’ll have seven minutes to razzle-dazzle ’em with fun and entertaining ways to celebrate an oh-so-trendy, anti-Valentine’s Day.

Yep, that’s right. Instead of long-stem roses, heart-shaped boxes and cooing couples, I’m going to show all the single ladies how to celebrate in style and hold onto your dignity! That last part might be tricky.

It’s great news because CityLine doesn’t open their doors to new talent everyday and if I create seven minutes of the most compelling Canadian lifestyle programming this side of The Dini Petty Show, I just might become a recurring guest expert. How fab!

Let me know what you’d like to see on the program and it just might happen—live on TV (okay, live-to-tape but who’s keeping score?). Delicious new champagne cocktails? Quick and easy recipes for a “Singles Only” themed party? Or, how to hire a “hit” on your ex and keep your hands clean perhaps?

Whatever it is, let me know.

No query is too big or too small and no question is stupid. Stupid is mentioning fingernail clippings in a food blog.