Kickin' it in the SWO

Book It

2012-01-21T22:29:00.002-05:00

According to my list, I read 15 books last year. I won't say that is impressive because I know there are many who read much faster than I. However, I will say that in review of the list, it was a delightful selection which I thoroughly enjoyed most of - which is impressive. I even had a few surprises in there that I was not expecting to like so much. A couple disappointers, but it was bound to happen, right?

Fingers crossed that my selections this year are just as worthy. I've started with Book of Negroes. If you haven't picked it up yet...wow, you need to. Amazing book. I don't usually go on so much about a book, but this one deserves the praise it gets! That Heather, whoever she is, she has some good picks.

I'm a little neurotic about finishing what I start, even when I don't like it. There was one that has recieved immense buzz (guess which one!!!) and everyone loves it. Well...I thought it was a little lacking. Limited character development, not enough attention to creating a visualization of the setting and characters for the reader, and mediocre writing style. I can see how it would make for an amazing movie, but for a reader like me...not so much. I was lent the book, along with the second in the series. So of course I feel obliged to read the second. Even though I am sure I won't enjoy it. But it's like there is an imaginary person holding a gun to my head saying 'read this book or I'll shoot.' Actually, it's more like 'read this book or you'll be immensely curious forever to know what the book was about since it's sitting on your bookshelf right now and if you just give it back you'll be annoyed with yourself that you didn't read it. Even though you know you won't be thrilled by it.' Or something to that effect. You know what I mean, right??

So I've started off the year with a bang of the book, I'll dip to a mediocre one, and then hopefully I'll swing back up to the good stuff!

A Year in Review

2011-12-29T13:45:00.002-05:00

To Number 1:

Thank you for reintroducing myself to myself. I had forgotten. Also, thank you for introducing me to Malbec wines.

To Number 2:

Thank you for reminding me of simple activities that can bring me inner peace. I had been missin' that fishin'.

To Number 3:

Thank you for letting me be me. And for teaching me the trick to napping. I am now a napping whore who naps on the weekends all the time. It's delightful.

Fingers crossed that next year there is only a Number 1. And that I will not be inspired to write a silly little year in review to remind myself that more than 1 is ok, even if it's not ideal.

I meant for this to sound nice, not annoyed. I think I diverted from my intent.

Opps.

My Favourite Driving Technique

2011-12-09T09:34:00.002-05:00

I wouldn't say that I am a terrific driver, but I'm certainly not a bad driver. Perhaps I feel that I am a better driver than many people out there on the road.

I would definitely say that I am a confident driver.

I would also say that I am a driver who happens to experience road rage on the odd occasion. And by odd occasion I mean quite often. *averted gaze*

Yesterday as I was driving to work, the car behind me was driving precariously close to my tail end. So close, in fact, that I could determine the colour of the driver's eyeshadow by looking my rear view mirror. As we encroached a small town I dropped my speed accordingly, as did the driver behind me.

Yet she did not ease off. My road rage started to simmer at the surface. I muttered at her to get off my tail. Obviously, she did not hear me asking her to give some space between us. I tapped my brakes a couple times, in the hope that this little signal would relay the message.

No such luck.

The simmer turned to boil.

I pursed my lips. I flared my nostrils.

I employed my favourite driving technique for tailgaters.

I slammed on my brakes enough to decrease my speed 20 kms/hr in an flash.

Tee hee.

I saw the look of surprise cross the face of the driver behind me as she came even closer to my tail lights, her eyes widen with panic at the thought of hitting me.

I sped back up to my 55 kms/hr, and watched her slow her pace, growing the gap between us to a more than reasonable distance.

Sigh. My road rage started to subside. I happily motored on.

It's a great trick, I tell ya. Of course, I'm sure one day it will backfire on me and I'll actually get rear ended, but until then...it's so much fun to see those faces of shock in my rear view mirror!

Since when is 12 the magic number?

2011-11-23T10:04:00.010-05:00

I heard on the radio the other week that the average North American woman has 12 relationships before she gets married.

Excellent.

Seven down, five to go. I'm more than halfway there now. Score for me.

*rolls eyes*

I'm hoping this definition of relationship includes these little blips of 'relationships' that I tend to find myself involved in. You know, the ones that last only a couple months, where you're not sure if the guy is your boyfriend or not.

Otherwise I'm two down, and ten to go. Man, I'll be like 70 by the time I get married. Can't wait. I think I'll just marry myself. Send out little cards saying I'm registered at shoe stores and makeup counters, and buy myself a nice dress. Throw a party for me and me. It will be a good time. You should come.

*with sarcasm dripping from my fingertips, I hit the 'publish post' button...*

The Rural Compromise

2011-10-14T12:06:00.003-04:00

Throughout my wanderings across Southwestern Ontario, as I am sure you have realised, I have landed myself in both urban and rural places to live.

As I currently live in an urban centre (not Toronto...don't worry, I won't put myself through that again!), I still find that I yearn for the small town loveliness. (Just like when I lived in the small town, I yearned for the city. It's like I just can't be satisfied. Pfft.) Well, I may have recently found a good compromise. Live in the city, but work in the small town. I know, I know, most people do this the other way around. I like to be different, what can I say??

It's only been a few weeks of the switch up with work, but it's off to an excellent start. I spend my mornings driving through the countryside, enjoying the horse paddocks to the right, and the patches of forest on the left. Traffic is minimal, a tractor or two on the road to slow us down, but that's about it. I mean, it's not as ideal as my two minute roll to work when I was working at the city office, but I really can't complain.

One of the projects I am working on right now is setting up an event. This really defines why I love small towns. I stroll on into the Legion to scout out their hall as a potential venue. As I look around the hall, an older gentleman walks through. He stops.

"You looking to get married here?" he asks me.

A little startled at the question, I hastily answer "Uh, no, sir."

He raises his eyebrows in wonderment as to why I am there.

I think quick. "Can't find anyone to agree yet!" I exclaimed, whilst snapping my fingers and doing the classic finger gun.

He chuckles and carries on to the bar side.

See, in a small town, this is a funny, friendly old man. In the city...he would be classified as a creepy old man.

Small town charm seeps into everyone. You just can't help it.

Sleep Tight

2011-09-18T14:16:00.002-04:00

I am 31 and a half. Recently I've taken to sleeping with my teddy bear again. He's 30 and a half. We've been in it together for the long haul. But seriously. Like I am physically falling asleep with my teddy bear tucked up in the crook of my arm. What am I, 5??

What the hell is up with that???

Ten Years

2011-08-12T15:58:00.003-04:00

It's hard to believe that it has been nearly 10 whole years since 9/11. Less than a month away now.

I'm reading a book right now and there is a reference to one of the characters working in the south tower of the World Trade Towers - it's just 1999 for them. As I was reading it, I wondered if it was a pre-emptive hint that this character was going to be taken out of the story, because I know what is coming along in just two years for them.

I remember the first time I experienced 9/11 to be woven into pop culture. I can't even remember what book I was reading, but I was half way through it and there it was. September 11 on the news and the characters in the book were stunned, speechless, at a loss what to do.

I had to put the book down and I walked away from it for a couple days. I didn't like that it had found it's way into contemporary fiction. I didn't like that such horrific reality was now accepted reality in the world we live in. That I had to read fake people were experiencing the real thing we did.

I guess 10 years down the road it's still as fresh as it was then, but it's a real part of the everyday now.

Eight Arms to Hold You

2011-06-11T22:43:00.005-04:00

So I've been finding a rather high number of spiders in my apartment this past while. Really, I live in a basement apartment, so what can I expect? I am generally ok with spiders, they don't give me the heebie jeebies, and I don't desire to squash them every time I see them.

I pretend that spiders know what I am saying to them. I tell them we have an agreement. You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours. Don't scuttle across the living room floor when the lights are on, and don't creep up the legs of the bed to where I am sleeping. Up until last week, this understanding, as far as I was concerned, had been met.

Once or twice over the past few months I had spotted a huge mother of a spider zip along the floor when the lights were on. Big and black and hairy (ok, I am am making the hairy part up) and fast like lightening.

Maybe it looked like this. (There are too many spider pictures to choose from, and not enough time.) I'd say it was less brown and more black.

Anyways, point being, the big spider broke the rules, but since it quickly dashed under the bookshelf it was safe.

My crazy thinking makes me have weird notions. Some spiders, well I don't mind them at all. You know those smaller ones, with the yellowish bodies and spindly legs, and they generally stay up along the ceiling corners? They don't seem to want to bring any harm at all, so when I see them, I tell them to scoot off to where I can't see them. I don't mind sharing my living space with them.

But these big guys who are so obvious in their whereabouts...not so much. I had noticed a little yellow spindly spider had taken up residence in the bathroom. She had started a web in a corner beside my standing cupboard. I had a notion to be a homewrecker, but decided to let it be. Really, what was the harm? Two days later I notice that another spider - big ol' spider - had taken over the web. The little one was no where to be seen!!! What? Spider homicide?? I was irked that this big spider had bullied the little spider out of it's home OR that it killed it. Yikes. The world of the arachnids is a brutal one. I reflected in my heart and only found a stone cold answer. Yup. I did away with it. All I could think of was it was big and it was going to get me somehow.

Imagine my chagrin when the very next day I am blow drying my hair and I spotted an even bigger spider!!! This was the mother of all spiders!!!! You know on Harry Potter, the big spider Aragog...yeah, we're talking big here. Ok, obviously not that big. But a big spider on the terms of a house spider in Canada. It's body might have been equivalent to the length of a nickel, but more oblong. Ick. My cold heart told me what to do. All I could think about was this big ol' spider having free reign of my apartment and running all over. I took care of business.

I pulled aside my laundry basket, tissue in hand (that's right, I'm tough, I can handle the killings with a kleenex) and got to task. As I move the basket further to make sure that there wasn't another huge mofo waiting for me I see this wee little one come running out in a jagged little path.

My heart panged for a moment. What if I just killed it's mother!?!?!? This spider who really wasn't going to do me any harm who just lost it's life because I'm a nut has little babies who now have to grow up without a mom.

Uhhh...and then I remembered oh right, we're talking about spiders here. I don't think they have the same bond I have with my mom. And for Pete's sake, if there is one baby there is bound to be a hundred. Crap. That's a lot of spider killing coming my way.

Why can't they just listen and stay out of sight?

Can't Buy Me Love (And Happy Mother's Day!!)

2011-05-07T21:12:00.005-04:00

It's been a good nine hours since the words were uttered, but I am still appalled. Today I attended a conference with prominent speakers from the Canadian business world. They discussed integrity, passion, motivation, self confidence. The things that would make you a great entrepreneur. My intention of attending was to gain some insights into networking. A little study I'm doing. Understanding the nuances of relationship building, of networking, of remembering things about a gazillion people. You know the stuff I'm talking about.

It seemed like a good place to be. These people in the room were network hungry. And apparently, many of them were money hungry. I understand that the point of the business world is to generate money, to get a little green in your pocket to make your life a little easier. I know there are people out there who think money really makes the world go 'round and that money makes you a better person. I just didn't expect to hear one of the presenters say that. That's right, SAY THAT. Not insinuate that. He actually said that having wealth made him a better parent.

Excuse me!?!?!?!?

It was the most ignorant, asinine, self inflated thing I have ever heard someone say. To over two thousand people in an audience. I mean, yes, I agree that having money can alleviate certain hard situations and open the door of some opportunity. But make you a better parent? I don't think so. Life is what you make it, with or without money. Would I say that if my mother had been rich she'd have been a better mother? Of course not. I think the fact that she experienced hardships and struggled made her a strong woman who set an excellent example of integrity for her children.

Money shmoney. What does he know? I bet his mother didn't raise him to think that. Mine certainly didn't. The audacity to actually say that money makes you a better person. Pfft.

Mom, I think you are a better parent for not having money. Thank you for instilling good morals into my being!

In person or bust.

2011-04-18T21:12:00.006-04:00

The continuing trend of online shopping just irks me. In what I am sure is not surprising news to you, I like going out to buy things. Much like I enjoy going to the bank in person, I enjoy going to the store in person. I want to hold the item in my hands before making a purchase decision. I want to check out the packaging, open it up if I can; I want to see it first. And on top of that, I want to get out of my apartment and have a little excursion in order to make the purchase, and see a friendly face or two.

As much as I love Chapter's, I also hate that I will come across a book that I want, only to discover it is not in stock in any of the nearby Chapter's. Meaning I should buy it online. But you know what??? I don't want to buy it online. So I'd rather not buy it at all.

Take that, online shopping. I'm not relenting. I'd rather suffer and be uninformed about my topic of interest. That's right. Self induced ignorance just to make my point. I'm that kind of person. An in-person kind of person.

Hindsight is more than 20/20. It's like Superman vision.

2011-04-08T22:03:00.007-04:00

It's interesting. In November I felt that I could once again reassemble myself to the full glory of completeness. Getting my footing back has certainly made headway for that progress, I'm pleased to announce. I can't express properly the delight I arrive at now when I feel myself becoming excited about doing things that in the past couple years I felt I could do with or without. The indifference hung over me like a saturated cloud ready to burst, but now the brisk breeze of pleasure is gently ushering it away. At the time, I didn't really see what was going on. I just knew that a part of me was taking a nap, all curled up in a warm duvet with 600 thread count sheets, and wasn't so keen on waking up. No one offered to wake me up for dinner though. A mild tap on the shoulder here and there, but nothing to really rouse me. I slept way past midnight. I remember saying to my close friends "I think I've lost my funny." I kept feeling that way but wasn't so sure what to do about it. That should have been my red flag. They still laughed at my jokes and my silly antics, because, let's be honest here, I'm always funny, though sometimes to a much lesser degree. Their laughter was, and will always be music in my soul. It helps to keep me going. I kind of felt like I was just going through the motions of my life. But I did not ever address the worry. I just kept going and told myself I'd get myself back on track. Perhaps I hid things pretty well too. Smiling when I should, laughing as I could, and running away every chance I had to not draw attention. And then November came. I finally realized I needed to do something. I don't really know if anyone gets it, if anyone understands that collecting myself and being on my own again and having all of my things in the land of Melissa put in the right spots makes me feel good, makes me feel like me. But it does. Notably, the first three months of this year were hilarious and fun. I know that I would not have been able to enjoy myself quite so much if I hadn't realized last fall that I needed to collect myself up and put me back together. Regardless of anything, I am just so happy to know that I was me, one hundred percent me, for the first time in a long time. That is what I call progress. That is the glue that is binding me together. Knowing that I still exist. *Apologies for the serious and cryptic nature of this post. Very out of the ordinary, I know! *Son of a crap! Why won't this format into proper paragraphs!!!! Pfft. Here I felt all nice and mellow from writing this post, and now the anger of poor formatting makes my blood boil!!!! Kidding. Mostly... ;)

Farewell Dinner

2011-03-24T19:50:00.004-04:00

As I graciously transition from 30 to 31, I was inspired to treat myself to a delectable dinner I have not indulged in for quite some time.

I poured myself a glass of red wine. A nice 2009 Malbec.

Sorted out Moulin Rouge from my DVD collection

Sighed dreamily over Ewan McGregor

I toasted up a few slices of ciabatta, spread on a nice creamy goat cheese and topped it off with smoked salmon.

So good...I ate too much.

Barely had room for my Petite Four!

Just. So. Delicious.

Goodbye 30. You were Spectacular Spectacular. No words in the vernacular can describe this great event. You'll be dumb with wonderment.

Every year....

2011-03-21T22:08:00.002-04:00

Remember when I was about to turn 27? Impending doom and bull elephants and all that?

Yeah. And now 31 is just days away.

The good news is that now I don't drink nearly so much beer. If you can actually call that good news.

Pfft.

My Addiction

2011-03-12T21:20:00.002-05:00

Well. I found myself at Chapters again today. I really should not be allowed to go in there. I just can't help it though. Chapters is to me what an opiate dealer is to Keith Richards. Ok, maybe that was mean and a little extreme. But you get the gist. I am a bibliophile. After an hour and a half of browsing and sipping on my Starbucks, I had four books tucked under my arm and a few funny little clearance rack items.

A little too much. I needed to reconsider.

You know those people who wander around a public space in their own little word and act like no one else is around? Well, that can be me. In this moment, it was me. Like a seven year old trying to make a decision, I found a clear space on the floor and laid out all the items in front of me. Crouching down, I put my coffee aside and gently touched each book, each item. As if a simple touch was going to determine it's worth. I picked each one up and read the relevant information.

Sigh. Michael Ondaatje. I adore his writing. Goes in the purchase list.

Ella. Good ol' Ella. I don't own any Ella. 50 songs for $10. Now that's a deal.

Velveteen Rabbit for James. Well, it's an Easter present, so of course I should get it now. I mean, if I don't buy it now, I'll buy him something else later. Might as well be this.

The Glass Castle. I've been itching to read this for months!!

Are you there God? It's me, Margaret. I mean, c'mon. How could I not? It will be a youthful inspiration.

I hummed and hawed with my final decisions. Nothing went back on the shelves.

As I walked towards the bank of cashiers, I claimed ownership of my addiction. I thought about how much this was going to cost me. I thought about how many times I have been in Chapters over the past few months. I kept telling myself in the past that I didn't have a problem. That I should not sign up for an iRewards card, it wasn't worth it. For a fleeting moment a light shone down on me that sang a heavenly tune confirming that this addiction is ok, and an iRewards card is something useful, not something to scoff at every time the cashier asks me if I want one. I approached the till, and like an AA member, I said, "I'm Melissa, and I buy too many books. I'd like an iRewards card, please."

After saving a nice $18, I arrived at home and pulled my goodies out of the bag. I thought about which one I was going to read next. I am currently working my way through Doctor Zhivago. I sat in front of my bookshelf and pulled out the book I've already designated as my next read. I skimmed over other titles and realized I had others on there that I had forgotten about. Huh. Interesting. Including the new ones, there are seven. Oy. I have a problem. My goal now is to read them all and get them taken care of. I will not sweep them under the rug.

I am not a speedy reader. I want to absorb each word, get caught in the beauty of the scene of the author has painted with lyrical words. I want to connect to the characters and know them inside out. I like to curl up in bed with my book and have a relaxing moment. I am, however, pretty excited about these seven books, so I just might pick up the pace...excuse me now, if you will, I must go and read.

A Simple Transaction

2011-01-20T11:16:00.002-05:00

I blog. I facebook. I email. I am LinkedIn. I love the internet for many things. I do not, however, love it for banking and other personal things that could secrete my life's savings.

I am that girl who loves going to the bank. Face to face banking will never be replaced in my opinion. Who doesn't love bank tellers? They are always so friendly. And when you keep going to the same bank, you get to know these ladies (and the few men) and it's just plain nice. Going to the bank is warm and fuzzy.

Every trip to the bank reveals that I am not the only one who loves real life banking. (Though I note that it's usually me and a bunch of old folks, but that's besides the point.) I stand in line waiting for my turn to arrive. I sway a little to the music in my head, or hum to the radio playing in the building. Overall, it's a peaceful activity for me.

Until I am in a rush. Like yesterday. My lunch was chalk full of errands that needed to be run. The most important errand was picking up lunch for my growling belly. What can I say, my priorities revolve around food? I had decided to swing by the Italian deli for a delectable dish, but knew I had to be there by 12:30 in order to get back to my desk in time for my 1:00 appointment.

With only one person in front of me, I figured this would not be an issue. Until a few minutes later when I started to 'accidentally eavesdrop' on the people up at the teller. Wow. They were telling her their life story. And she was soaking it up like a good romance novel. (Is there such a thing? A good romance novel. Maybe I used the wrong example.) She was soaking it up like a good Timothy Findley novel. (Much better!). Crap. I looked at the time. 12:16. Still had to go to the other bank AND go to Shopper's Drug Mart AND drive up to the deli.

The woman in front of me had about 4 different bank books with her. She was here for some serious business. The other teller opened and I made my way to the front of the line. Life story still going on to my left, serious banking going on to my right. 12:20. My tummy growled angrily at me.

Sigh. Depression sank. I was not going to get the tremendously tasty lunch I had hoped for.

A third teller opened up her station and called me over. Can I tell you that she was the most pleasant lady? We joked around, she told me granddaughter was moving down here for school and she was excited. We shared tidbits of positive information in a timely and efficient manner. My banking was complete. It was both a functional and jovial banking transaction.

This, my fellow bankgoers, is how you do in-person banking. Be respectful of the line behind you! We all have places to be, but we shouldn't have to suffer just because we actually like going to the bank and you are a chattypants!!! Keep your chit chat limited to the transaction time. These people behind the counters are professionals. They know how it rolls. Just follow their lead, exchange your pleasantries and get out of the way.

Simple as that.

Even though I had to suffer through potato wedges and chicken bites for lunch from the Valu-Mart, I still love the bank...

Who me?

2010-12-06T16:08:00.002-05:00

He said I looked like Carrie Underwood's twin.

I don't know about that, but it sure made me feel pretty!!

Thanks, Mister, whoever you are.

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Gym?

2010-11-23T16:53:00.004-05:00

I would like to say that I am growing by leaps and bounds. I would like to say that every day I am moving in a new direction.

I would like to say a lot of things, but I cannot tell a lie.

No. Today I realized something. Faced with panic and over-awareness , I rushed myself to end the frantic pace I was running. Or rather, that I was walking very fast on -- on the treadmill.

Today I went to the gym. The co-ed gym. I have been a regular gym goer for quite some time now, but I strictly have attended the ladies only gym. Me and the ladies, breaking out a sweat, minding our own business, worries cast aside (mostly). I have purposely avoided the co-ed gym for many a month because, well, I am afraid of the co-ed gym.

Yes, that is right. Afraid.

I am quite positive it has something to do with my neurotic fear of the male kind. (Have I not mentioned this before!?!? Where have you been??)

From the moment I got out of my car, my pulse started to race. My new apartment is so utterly close to this new, shiny gym that I thought hey, why not? Now my beloved ladies gym is all the way on the other side of town. And this one, well...it's so close. You see my logic.

Where was I? Or yeah, racing pulse. I opened the door to the mega gym of sweaty men and women -- the endless rows of cardio machines drumming out my heartrate with every footfall of every person. Eek. It was a bit much.

My nerves were trying to take over and make me turn around. But I persevered. (You should be proud.) I changed into my gym clothes, I filled my water bottle and I stepped on the treadmill. I tried to refrain from looking around but everywhere I looked, there they were. Men in stretchy shorts and damp tshirts. Walking around like kings (oh wait, is that any different than usual?) I became aware of my own attire -- an older tshirt, black cotton pants that were mildly too short (stupid dryer). I saw the other ladies looking all confident in their Lulu Lemons. Way out of my budget but I desperately wished they weren't. Hmmm...oh confidence. I know you are in there somewhere.

I tried to occupy my mind. I wonder how much energy could be generated by these people on the treadmills? Enough to power the building? The city block? Or just my cell phone?

Ok. I felt like enough time had ticked by. My typical route would have been to go on the weight machine circuit. Pump some iron and all. The panic in my throat was catching my breath, and I found myself making a beeline for the change room (this is where you start to be disappointed in me.) I quickly changed and scooted out the door into the pouring rain. Sigh. Life was so much better out here!

I don't know. The ladies gym is just so...safe. I'm chicken, what can I say? I'm afraid of the big bad co-ed gym.

Movin' on and movin' up

2010-10-28T18:29:00.003-04:00

Moving. Relocate. Transplant.

In just a matter of days I am shimmying myself back to independence! What has felt like clipped wings are free and full again, ready to fly.

*To be honest, I clipped my own wings. It was no one's fault by my own. Shame, shame, for shame.

November 1 the sweet and quaint apartment is mine. November 6 will see my delightful belongings on display exactly how I want them. They have been boxed up for two years. TWO YEARS!!! My serving tray has been doomed to the gloom of a box. My artwork carefully wrapped up and packed up. My scrapbooks full of happy memories have been ushered to silence. And I...well I have been biding my time. I feel the return of all of me is on it's way!!

This is merely procrastination

2010-10-17T20:12:00.003-04:00

Guess who doesn't want to do anymore homework today? This kid, that's who.

Instead of diligently reading my book on the quality of life, I will tell you about my assessment of my own quality of life. We have to create little activities for ourselves throughout the book to help us understand the context better. Genius, I tell you. I totally get it now. (HA.)

The topic of behaviour patterns is examined in this book, so I decided to look at patterns, habits and behaviours I have implemented into my own life. And do you know what it made me realise??

I am kind of a geek.

Yup. That's right. The habits I have changed/developed/scrapped/etc/etc over the past few years have not been drastic or fun or really even blog worthy (yet here I am blogging about them.)

This is me in a nut shell.

In 2003 I decided no more red meat for me. I'll go with chicken. And pork -- the other white meat!

In 2004 I decided I was no longer going to watch TV after 10pm. Still stickin' to that plan.

In 2005 I decided that I was going start having a morning coffee at 10am. Yes, specifically 10am. It took about two months for the extra caffeine in my system to adjust and not affect my sleep. From here stemmed the "no caffeine after lunch time" rule, because it would keep me awake at night.

In 2006 I realized that dairy and I were not friends. I stopped eating yogurt and ice cream. I still dabble in cheese and lactose free milk.

In 2007 I decided to ban myself from the mall. HA! Like that one stuck!!!

In 2008 I decided to join the gym. I stuck to it for almost a whole year! Then I moved to the town with a crappy very expensive gym.

In 2009 I decided to ban myself from the mall again. No such luck.

In 2010 I joined the gym again. And cut out tomatoes. Those red little morsels are good for my soul, bad for my stomach.

Look at that list. Sigh. I am not cool, am I? Or, as my friend Laurie says to me "Wow. You live with a really mean lady!" I am just too strict for my own good. How is this impacting my quality of life???????? Actually....pretty damn well ;) I am a happy lady, albeit, a boring one.

Well, I wrote this faster than I planned. Guess it's back to reading homework....I hope you can think of exciting things you implemented in your life!

A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

2010-09-26T20:57:00.002-04:00

I have to admit it. After my last post all heartfelt and concerned for the authors of the bargain section at the bookstore, I betrayed those hardworking writers.

I went to Chapter's today to stroll around (actually went to find a specific kind of book, they had three on the topic, do you think I found any of them???) and found myself in the Bargain Books section. Ah ha! I could purchase myself a thrifty $4.99 book and support some random author I've never heard of. I browsed the shelves, I picked up a few books and read the back or the inner jackets. A few sounded good. But alas, my bladder was full and I need to find the ladies room. I had every intent of returning to the Bargain Books section to decide on a book to purchase. (I've recently banned myself from shopping at Winner's/Homesense and the mall, so I need somewhere to spend my money!!)

I was derailed at the humour section. There I saw it. Are you there, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea. The book I've been wanting to read for many a month. I even attempted to locate it at the library, but it was always on loan to some other person who undoubtedly was splitting their sides at that very moment reading her prose.

Sigh. The internal conversation began. Do I buy it? Do I put it down? What about my new plan for the Bargain Books? Should I just shun them because I haven't heard a word about them? Do I want to toss all of my values aside for sake of humour????

Yes. Yes. Yes.

I peed. I purchased. I am about to read. I am a hypocrite.

(Bah, oh well, what can you expect?? Next time, next time I swear I'll go with the original plan.)

In the name of the written word

2010-09-19T17:37:00.006-04:00

The past few times I have found myself at a Chapter's (because really, what other bookstore do I go to? Do I support the small independent bookstores? No...I'm a jerk!), a thought keeps occurring to me in the Bargain Books section.

Imagine how those authors who poured their heart and souls into their novels must feel to know their book is on clearance for $5.99.

Disappointment, self loathing, deflation, broken hearted. At least, that is how I would feel. I've always fancied that one day I'll write up a terrific book and it will have rave reviews and fan fare and all that joyous momentum. (Still haven't really figured out just what I'd write about. Let me tell you, though, it would be darn funny and what I call "exaggerated non-fiction." Don't worry, I won't mention you by your REAL name though...)

To my fellow book lovers, I have a challenge. Let's toss aside the latest and the greatest, the Giller Prizes and adorned authors. Let's seriously browse the Bargain Books section and find a treasure or two at discounted prices, and vindicate an author's blood, sweat and tears. Let's toss aside our library cards that we got in order to help us save money by not buying books and spend $5.99!! We can do it!!

(And then tell me what new author you've found and if they are worthwhile reading.)

Is it wrong I think this is funny? Not according to this mom.

2010-08-09T17:19:00.004-04:00

As a non-parent, I often wonder how they do it. How do parents--particularly those of young children--get through the day without laughing so blatantly at their children? Once a child myself, I can admit to having participated in some spectacular events which would have caused the entire world to point and laugh, had they but known.

I was shopping at the Sprawl-Mart a while back, casually perusing the dairy aisle. A mother with her two young children were hastily making their way past me. The boy looked like he was maybe four, while the girl who was safely tucked in the shopping cart seat, was about two. I was just putting some cheese into my basket when "WHACK!!" the boy had run face first into the mirrored pole!!!

Every bone in my body wanted to laugh at this, but social decency prevented me from anything but kindness. I looked at the mom who was now standing beside me. She was silent. She turned her head slowly towards me, hiding her face from her childen.

Her face was a mirrored image of what I was harbouring inside. She was doing her best to contain herself.

"Is that not the funniest thing you've ever seen!?!?!" She whispered to me.

I stiffled a giggle and muttered "Yes. Yes it was."

We both took a deep breath and looked back up. She put on her mom face and rushed to her boy, who had yet to cry. He was stunned. After the quick mom assessment, he was deemed ok, and we continued on our shopping way.

I was relieved that she also found this funny. It's nice to know that I won't be the only parent who is terribly amused by clumsy children.

A welcoming tale of veggie wars

2010-07-27T13:28:00.005-04:00

What to say, what to say? I have kicked around a few ideas in my head, but I feel my comeback should be glorious, it should be a display of shining quirky humour. Something that makes us both sigh, giggle, and feel the tension lift from our shoulders over the sheer ridiculousness of what I have to say.

I thought of updating you with my life. New city, new job, new new new. Nah...

I could tell you that I am grossed out by the fruit flies who are maxin' and relaxin' in my garbage bin under my desk. Nah...

Or I could tell you about one fateful night in April when my life flashed before my eyes. Yes!!!

Picture it, Sicily, 1923...oh wait, that's Sophia's intro to stories, not mine.

Picture it, Ontario, 2010...This kid right here took a house sitting gig for the month of April. Freedom, space, independence and the grocery list were mine all mine. I savoured every moment I possibly could.

The tragedy I am referring to involves a knife, a sweet potato and my left hand. I was skillfully preparing my dinner, had just finished peeling the sweet potato and was forcing the knife down the length of the sweet potato when it spitefully resisted my attempt. My dear hand slid down the tip of the knife, splitting open the side of my hand.

Shock took over. I stood still for a moment, eyes wide open, staring at the blood pooling on the counter. Visions of Grey's Anatomy flashed through my mind, and I quickly determined I needed to move -STAT! Bandage this gusher up!!

I dashed to the washroom, cleaned 'er up a bit and with deep breathes, I examined my gaping wound. It was an inch across, and guts were popping out of it. (Yup, my professional medical terminology says our hands have guts). I swallowed back the little bit of barf that had risen in my throat. I slathered on some antiseptic cream and bandaids galore. Upon exiting the bathroom my panic began to rise again. Suddenly I was dizzy...I reached out for the wall. Holy crap, I couldn't see!!!!

On my hands and knees I made my way to the living room. I spread out on the floor, legs raised on the couch. Slowly my vision came back.

**Let me interrupt here. I just feel the need to tell you that this is the most traumatic thing that has ever happened to me, medically speaking. The best (worst?) I've got otherwise is a splinter in my heel. Hence, I was lost on the proper emergency etiquette to help myself.**

I lay still on the floor. Do I go to the emergency room for stitches? Clearly I needed stitches, I mean the GUTS OF MY HAND were popping out! As most people would do nowadays, I consulted the internet. Hmmm....hospital's website, not that handy. Time to call TeleHealth.

The delightful and thorough nurse I spoke with for about 10 minutes determined that I needed to get stitches. After detailing my gash in every way possible, it was her "recommendation."

I hung up the phone. My breathing became faint again. Heavens have mercy! I needed to calm down! I sat on the couch, my vision clouding again (son of a gun, how do these blind folks get on in their daily lives? Bless their souls.). Several minutes after it returned, I made my way to the bathroom mirror for a pep talk.

"I am ok. I can drive to the hospital. I am not going to bleed to death. I am not afraid of stitches..."

Feeling puffed up with positive thoughts I gathered my purse and made my way to the emergency room.

The Triage nurse was a little younger than me and open to the bad jokes I made about vegetable battles. She laughed, examined my wound and wrapped my hand endlessly in gauze. "Yup, you'll get some stitches for that!"

Crap. But really, it was what I was expecting.

I waiting for two hours to see the doctor. Two hours. Not so bad. Until I tell you there was only one other person in the waiting room. Ah, my tax dollars do a good job!

Finally, I am in an examination room. A little sweat on my brow, but I kept telling myself it's no big deal. I don't have to watch the wee little needle as it pokes and pulls at my flesh, weaving thread back and forth to close me up.

The doctor comes in.

Him: "So, what do we have here?"

Me: "Well I lost a fight with a sweet potato."

Him: (Who did not think that was amusing) "Hmmm..."

He unbandaged my hand. He pokes at my cut, ignoring the possibility that it might actually hurt me. He sighs.

Me: "I called TeleHealth and they said I should come for stitches. I think it's kind of deep. What is that that is popping out of my cut?"

Him: "That's fat."

(I gagged a little. Ew.) He looks at my hand again, and honestly, he flared his nostrils at me.

Him: "I'll get you a bandaid."

Me: "I don't need stitches??"

Him: "Uh, no."

Clearly he is not impressed. In less than five minutes he puts a bandaid on my hand and sends me on my way. Hmmph. He so did not understand the trauma I just went through.

Anywho, I decided to recreate this event and document it. An orange was used in the place of the sweet potato, but this does not remove it's credibility as a recount of events.

There I am, preparing my meal.

(Note I used a plastic knife this time, to ensure that I did not actually cut myself again.)

Son of B!!! I've sliced myself open!!

(It felt more dramatic to cut my wrist...I just love the theatrics!)

Ah man, there is blood all over the place!!

(Don't worry, it's just ketchup!)

Passed out cold.

Now folks, no need to worry. Obviously I am ok now. I have survived this horrific moment in my life and moved on. Though my scar will forever remind me of that fateful night...

Back in Black

2010-07-23T15:45:00.002-04:00

Ok. The time has come. I miss blogging, I am lacking inspiration, but I am determined to find it.

Please stay tuned in! I will make a glorious comeback in the very near future.

In the meantime, can I interest you in this fellow I came across today?? HILARIOUS!!!

I'll see you in September, I'll see you when the summer's through...

2009-09-16T18:32:00.003-04:00

September is half way over. My time has been consumed by adoring the sweetest little boy that ever was.

Catchin' up on Sevens

2009-08-26T17:52:00.002-04:00

It seems that August has become quite hectic!!! And there are so many wonderful things to be grateful for...

1. For a great week spent with my dad in Manitoba.
2. For being able to connect with my cousins and aunts, who I have not seen for 10 years.
3. For catching up with MJ and her giant family, even if it was only for a few hours.
4. For the little bundle of joy who came into the world on August 21, James Russell Woodbridge.
5. For the happiness that has been brought to my sister and Brian with said bundle of joy.
6. For the interview I have lined up for Friday, arranged through the recruitment company I interviewed with.
7. For the generosity of my sister and Brian who asked if I would like to stay with them for September while I get a job sorted out.

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

2009-08-21T22:43:00.004-04:00

Tonight as I drove from one small town to another, I pulled over down a side road and turned off my car.

There is just something about being surrounded by empty space, fields that stretch on forever, and an endless sky of stars that brings peace to my being.

I leaned back on the side of my car and craned my neck back. The strong wind whipped my hair across my face, so I had to hold it back to really see what was up there. Millions of millions twinkling back at me. I realized that I've forgotten the constellations.

I sighed. I breathed in. I spun around to look the other way. I smiled. I felt momentarily elated.

I stood for a bit and then climbed back in my car and drove away.

Contact made!

2009-08-20T16:06:00.002-04:00

Well, as all thing seem to go....I exaggerated a point. Tee hee.

I ended up getting through to one of the recruitment agencies (though I'd like to point out that I still have not heard back from others...). I met with a lovely lady named Kelly, who was very helpful and positive.

Anywho....next day she calls me already with a sweet ass suggestion of a job!! Woot woot! Interview next week, fingers crossed all over!

The Elusive Attempt of Contact

2009-08-17T15:19:00.003-04:00

I know that I have idealistic ideas crammed into my head, some might even say radical ideas. But does it not just make common sense to return business phone calls and emails?

In my current hunt for a job, I have been making (or rather attempting to make) contact with a few job placement agencies. Do they respond to my emails? Do they return messages from their auto-formatted website contact pages? Do they call me back from messages left on voicemails?

Obviously, the answer is no.

Call me crazy, but if your job was to place people into jobs with companies that contracted you to do so, should you not do just that? How on earth are you going to find candidates to fill these roles if you don't get back to people?? I'd say I've got a pretty darn good resume, and these silly people should not be ignoring me.

Gah!!!!!!

Ah, the element of customer service sure does suck these days. They should all be forced to take a few customer service courses and learn how to treat their potential clients.

I mean, that's what I would make them do if they were MY employees...

Did you know?

2009-07-31T16:38:00.003-04:00

Interesting fact: Grey car does not hide the bugs guts as good as the black car.

Hmph!!!

This is nothin' compared to what it looks like right now :(

~But I still love my good ol' Toulouse LaTrek ~

Simply Seven

2009-07-27T12:51:00.003-04:00

I should start calling this just Sevens. Seems I don't get around to this on Sundays as often as I thought I would!!

1. For all the rain that washed off the water spots left over from my backyard car wash
2. Haha, for the rain that washed off all the bugs that reappeared smeared on my car a couple days after the backyard car wash!!
3. For the delightful company of Tara on my 'search for nice neighbourhoods' excursion
4. For a great couple days of just chillin' with Charlotte
5. For the delightful advice from the lady at Laurier's Career Services
6. For my now stellar looking resume ;)
7. For my trusty car

And then there was none.

2009-07-20T17:27:00.004-04:00

In my moments of boredom today at work, I decided to scroll back through my blog to 2007.

You know what I realise?

I am not nearly so funny as I once was. Oh sigh. What a pitiful feeling.

My new goal for the rest of 2009: To find humour in my days and write about it in a side splitting way!

(Uh, right now, I'm just not so sure where the funny is going to come from. It's pretty darn blah these days...so this will require some extra effort. Fingers crossed.)

7+7+7+7+7+7+7+....that's a lot!

2009-07-19T16:21:00.002-04:00

1. For a great beach day on Thursday.
2. For my pretty toes after my pedicure.
3. For wonderful things being on sale!
4. For quite, lazy nights.
5. For laughing with fits of giggles ;)
6. For spending time with my family this weekend.
7. For hanging out around the campfire playing cards.

Nice or....nice?

2009-07-14T19:47:00.005-04:00

I'm a nice girl by nature. I like smiles, I like hugs, I like kind words. Living in a small town, kindness breeds here like bunnies in the underbrush of the thicket. Living in a small town for the past 9 months or so, my level of kindness has increased, though I have not been aware of it.

Until volunteering at MIFF this past weekend, that is. I spent most of the time chillin' in the box office, lending my smile and helpful phrases etc to people who wanted to know about the Mississauga Independent Film Festival, buy tickets, or buy tickets to the regular movies in the rest of the theatre.

My happy comments of "You can buy the tickets for that movie down at the concession stand, this weekend the box office is just for the Film Festival ticket sales," freaked people out because I was smiling at them and patiently explaining to them the situation at hand. Many times I had to repeat and repeat and repeat until my smile left and I said plainly "Go downstairs" and then they understood what was going on. My friends and Festival organizers merely laughed at me and told me to keep it simple and to not be so nice. Bark at them, if you will.

At once point, a lady came over to ask about the Hannah Montana movie, and while she was looking at the times, I smiled at her daughter and asked her how she was. The mom looked at me like I was a menacing crazy person and yanked her kid away.

Oh small town. How I love the environment of trust and friendship you foster. Big cities...just fathom the fear of friendly people ~ we are such terrorists!!! Look out!!! My smile is my secret weapon to soften your defences and then I will rule the world! Scary business...

777777777777777.....

2009-07-13T21:34:00.002-04:00

1. For a lull week at work. Nothing too crazy post-festival!
2. For the last nanaimo bar.
3. For evening drives in the countryside.
4. For wedding crashing!
5. For a great MIFF weekend.
6. For MIFF friendships.
7. For some quality time with Jen and Envy!

Just another Sunday

2009-07-06T16:32:00.003-04:00

1. For living in the lovely land of Canada!
2. For being able to spend Canada Day on Tara's deck - her hosting skills are quite impressive (hahah, Tara!)
3. For being able to stay calm during the Festival weekend
4. For a very successful Scottish Festival
5. For making friends with grouchy vendors!
6. For the delicious poutine I got to eat on Sunday
7. For finally allowing myself to buy Hunter rainboots!!!!!!!

Seven things on an actual Sunday!

2009-06-28T20:23:00.003-04:00

1. For the Monday market in the park.
2. For people who listen.
3. For having two articles written to go into the next issue of the paper.
4. For the ear and the deck of the Byles.
5. For "camping" at the Egli's.
6. For just being in my car driving.
7. For the sound of rain on the roof.

What is the difference?

2009-06-26T21:28:00.003-04:00

Michael Jackson. I love his music, you love his music, we all love his music. I won't deny that he has impacted our culture in too many ways for me to rattle off. It's rather shocking that he has crossed on over to the side, and my heart is sad for his family.

However...

I get frustrated by celebrity culture -- all aspects of it. I am kind of disgusted with the way that our society grasps onto the lives of people who have a talent that is shared through mass media. What Brad and Angelina do is no more business of mine that what Mr. & Mrs. Smith do (haha!).

The details surrounding the death of Micheal Jackson are no more my business than the details surrounding the death of Andrew Hall, who plummeted to his death earlier this week in an office tower's elevator shaft in Toronto.

On second thought, I change my mind. Perhaps if our media and public want to be greedy and know everything about the death of a celebrity, should we not want that of Andrew Hall? Shouldn't we be glamourizing and then tearing down who he was? What's the difference? People are people, right?

Perhaps I'll google him and call up TMZ and tell them what I found out. And then I will hound his family while they are grieving and post it on youtube.

Yeah...that's what I am going to do....

**************************************************************************

Just to clarify my bitter point...my frustration lies in that celebrities are made out to be people who should be praised and are role models, when in fact, there are so many people out there much more deserving to be praised and to be seen as role models. Why does the death of a celebrity outweigh the death of a regular blue-collar worker? I bet he made an impact in society too, as a father, as a husband, as a friend. The regular people deserve the credit too...

Rise and Shine!

2009-06-22T21:50:00.006-04:00

I nearly spit out my cereal this morning when my grandma talked about my brother at my sister's baby shower they day before...

Grandma: "Oh Mike had a nice time. He enjoys things like that doesn't he?"

Me: "Yeah, Mike likes a good crowd."

Grandma: "But he kept asking me if I was ok. Ugh, he wouldn't stop 'Are you ok? Are you ok?' He wouldn't leave me alone!" (Said with a face of annoyance)

Me ~ waving my spoon in front of me, biting my tongue, and putting my spoon back in my bowl of cereal.

Grandpa ~ sees me struggling to keep the explosion of WFT inside of me

Me: (thoughts properly gathered) "Ha ha Grandma, maybe he's just getting you back for when you keep asking him if he's ok!!"

Grandma ~ not impressed.

Grandpa ~ laughing quietly at the end of the table....

What? It's not Sunday still??

2009-06-22T21:19:00.004-04:00

1. For the many volunteers who signed up for the KSF.
2. For spending some great time with Gillian.
3. For making baby Julia laugh.
4. For knowing that I have friends like Gillian and Dan :)
5. For the Milverton Rodeo - always a blast!
6. For spending a leisurely afternoon horseback riding (even if my tush is sore!!)
7. For grown up Julia.

It can never be over-played to me

2009-06-18T21:35:00.002-04:00

When I get a new cd, I listen to it over and over and over until I know all the words. I love new cds. I soak in the words, I feel the melody, I let it lift me away.

I have been listening to this new Madison Violet cd since the day they gave it to me non-stop. There is one song in particular, No Fool For Trying, that I find myself singing to myself when I'm not in the car (which is where I listen to my cds...). And I really like the message.

You are no fool for trying.

It makes me think about the things that I am doing, the things that I am trying to do. And it just reminds that even if it doesn't work out, I'm no fool for trying. At least I learned something and it propelled me forward somehow.

Just another Sunday

2009-06-07T20:45:00.003-04:00

1. It's redundant, but for the Turkish Bread!!!
2. For the many compliments on the Festival program I've been getting.
3. For the beautiful countryside.
4. For being able to spend time with a friend I don't get to see very often.
5. For the delightfully comfy bed in the lovely farmhouse.
6. For keeping up the trend of stepping outside of the box.
7. For once again meeting awesome people to write stories about for the paper.

A brand new tune

2009-06-07T15:39:00.004-04:00

I love where the world takes me. Today I had the pleasure of meeting with two young women, Brenley MacEachern and Lisa MacIsaac. Together, they form the duo Madison Violet.

In all sincerity, I had only heard of them due to the fact that they are among the performers who will be at the Kincardine Scottish Festival. When I heard that they were coming to town for a cd release party prior to the Festival, I was stoked and jumped at the chance to be the one who got to write the article about them for the paper.

They really were great to talk to; so nice and very real people. I like running across people who are 'real,' regardless of what they do for a living. They both sat across the table from me, very patient and helpful as I scattered my questions, jumping back and forth on topics. I'm sure they have had their share of interviews over their careers, with interviewers who were like me, a little unsure. I hold the opinion that people are people, no matter 'who' you are. What I get impressed by is people who follow a passion and put it in their lives. These gals definitely fit the bill. They are topping the list with Faith, the 15 year old girl I've interviewed about her fundraising for mission trips.

They gave me a copy of their new CD, No Fool For Trying, which I listened to as soon as I got home. I think that the best part of meeting them today was discovering their great sound, and knowing that it will fit perfectly in my own music library -- it's completely the kind of music that I love. A great mix of folk and bluegrass, which, as they noted, this cd is quite stripped down from albums in the past. I wonder if I had come across them in the past if I'd be so fond of them. Doesn't matter now, because I think I'm hooked ;)

Check 'em out http://www.madisonviolet.com/. I highly recommend them! And really, who doesn't want to support Canadian artists???

The Rise and Fall

2009-06-03T19:30:00.005-04:00

The world stopped spinning on Monday. There I stood at the bakery counter, my eyes roving over the options in the glass counter case, my stomach anticipating the deliciousness to come. They scanned and paused. They looked up and down in disbelief. Within moments, I knew my life would never be the same.

For a moment I was confused. I read the tag "Turkish Bread." Nothing registered, but I had this niggling feeling that all my problems would dissolve if I just bought some.

My body swayed slightly as the bell rang in my head. Finally!!!!! Turkish bread!!! Here!!! In Canada!!!! I blinked myself back to awareness (by now the girl behind the counter was staring at me, her eyebrow cocked questioningly) and said "Turkish bread? You guys have Turkish bread?" I ordered the medium size.

I'll fill you in on my delight. While wandering the lands of Oz about six years ago, I encountered food I had never known. A delightful treat was Turkish bread; it is this amazingly chewy, yummy flatbread that must be made by the gods. I really have no idea if it actually hails from Turkey, but let's just say the Turkish should be revered for this bread.

When I returned to Canada, I searched high and low for this bread. Continually devastated, I never found the bread. After about two years, I almost gave up on my quest to find the delicious bread. For the following four years, I just kept my eyes randomly peeled when I went into a new grocery store or bakery. I was giving up hope, I had lost the will to live. I mean, the will to keep searching.

So there I stood. And there it lay. The bread of my dreams was right before me. And do you know where I found it? In the bakery that opened up just down the street from my old apartment in Toronto about two weeks before I moved away. Ahhh, the irony of life. I shake my fist wildly at it!

I asked the girl if I could tell her a story. She said sure and I revealed to her my epic search. She took the story in with graceful rapture (ha, yeah right!), and then told me that their bakery chain (Cobs Bread, for the record, now go and find one and get the bread!) was actually a part of the Australian chain Baker's Delight. It makes sense!!!!!

Currently, in Ontario, Cobs Bread is generally in the GTA. And I will drive the three hour drive on a regular basis just to get it. That is how much I love it. My life is now complete. God bless you, Turkish bread.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I think the best part of this story was when I called up my friend Charlotte to tell her what I found. She had lived in Australia for a year too, and experienced all that is delicious. And would you care to know her reaction? She shared in my joy, felt her heart rise, and revealed to me that she has been covertly searching for Turkish bread ever since she got home about five years ago...I promised to take her to Cobs Bread.

Sssssssss......7

2009-06-01T18:35:00.002-04:00

1. For having over 2500 things to be grateful for already this year!
2. For drop-in visitors at the office! (even if one of them licks the wrapped up candies and puts them back, haha!)
3. For getting some new things to write about for the paper.
4. For the MIFF meeting.
5. For the peaches and cream oatmeal I had for breakfast, mmmm!
6. For the suggestion of going to the Stratford Festival, which I love going to...
7. For the meeting with Humber working out and officially being a faculty member there! Woop woop!

Shudder

2009-05-26T20:30:00.005-04:00

It really makes me wonder just why it is that I can watch bloody gore and gross gross gross things on tv, yet for some reason, I cringe at the sight of a needle penetrating a person's skin.

I literally avert my eyes milliseconds before the needle goes in, and pull that I am grossed out face. But I watch with rapture as Hannibal slices his knife up the gut of Inspector Pazzi.

I just don't see where that balance is....

Seven-ooo's

2009-05-24T16:12:00.003-04:00

1. For the smell of freshly cut grass.
2. For my shiney new bike!
3. For finding my Brandi Carlisle cd again and singing at the top of my lungs in the car to it.
4. For all these lovely sunny days we've been having.
5. For randomly running into Roseanne at the b'n'd last night in Walkerton
6. For lunching with Charlotte and Liz today :)
7. For taking chances!

My Generic Adventure

2009-05-20T09:31:00.003-04:00

When I moved up to Kincardine, I said goodbye to my health care plan. A little part of me panicked, but the bigger part of me said "really dear, when do you actually use the benefits of it?" I rattled off in my head massage therapy, the occasional dental visit, and The Pill. I decided for the short period of time I'd be sans health plan, it would be ok to nix the massage therapy and the dentist.

But I stuck with The Pill. You know, it's a handy little thing, keeps me on track, my mood somewhat level, etc, etc, we all know the benefits to being on The Pill. And it's really not too expensive to have to pay myself.

As the pharmacist here got familiar with me, he quickly realised I didn't have coverage. He asked me if I'd like to try the generic brand of the pill I was prescribed. He stated there was pretty much no difference. Why the heck not? I agreed.*

Soon after the switch, though, I noticed a difference. Actually, I noticed a couple differences, but we'll focus on the main one here. True, I have not been the happiest of campers as of late, but regardless, the ingredients of this generic brand played havoc with my emotions.

I was, for lack of better words, a raging b*tch! For the two weeks prior to my "time" it was get out of my way or be trampled over with my steam roller of anger! If you could imagine fire coming out of my mouth, laser beams darting out of my eyes and my nails scratching down the chalkboard, you're almost imagining how outrageous I was.

I had three packs of this stuff. By the time I was into the second pack, I had figured out what was to blame for my poor display of behaviour. But I am frugal. And I have a limited budget right now. I was not about to throw out the last pack and run to the store for the good stuff. I decided I'd just suck it up and take it. And in turn, make everyone else around me suffer...

Time rolled by. I marched into that drugstore and in a pleasant/I-hate-the-world manner told the pharmacist I most certainly did not want the generic brand again. "It does not work well for me," I understated to them. The woman behind the counter stifled a giggle and said she'd make sure I got what was prescribed.

Now, I have just finished a full pack of "the good stuff" and have to say....raging b*tch has died down and all is well in the world again.

Phew....

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
*NB: I would like to point out that the generic brand was actually more expensive than the name brand of this pill. WTF? Why on earth would they ask me if I wanted it then? Sheesh!

Say what?

2009-05-18T15:00:00.004-04:00

I really do hate it when my Grandma says to me "You will make such a good wife one day!" when I do some random household chore for them.

Maybe I should change my perspective of that comment and say "Thanks for the vote of confidence that will in fact be a wife one day..."

One, Two...la la la Seven

2009-05-10T15:10:00.002-04:00

1. For full time hours at the Festival
2. For the fake yoga stretching that I've done a few times this week
3. For finally getting my portion of the program done!
4. For Humber contacting us to set up a meeting :)
5. For my good health
6. For my sister's belly that just keeps getting bigger with the baby inside it
7. And last, but not least....my mom!

Nice = Nice

2009-05-07T17:29:00.003-04:00

Last summer I had the pleasure of attending the Dirt Pigs beer tent. (Yes, I AM a classy gal.) As happens to many a beer tent patron, the end of the evening was approaching and I had too many beer tokens left. What is a girl to do??

Give them away.

Dirt Pigs beer tent is in Walkerton. And how many people do I know who live in Walkerton? Not too many. My friends that I was with (aka, the few Walkerton-folk I know) had similar situations -- already had too many drinks, and too many tokens left. So it just did not make sense to pass my tokens to them.

I looked around, and my sights fell on the young man who either owns or manages the cafe in town, The White Rose. I'm not really sure just what his position is there, but I have two main thoughts about him: 1. He is always the person who serves me there, and 2. he makes the finest Americano I've ever had.

So it just made sense. I strolled over to him, and in both of our intoxicated states, I handed him a token, as a token of my appreciation. He was stunned for a moment and then gleefully accepted.

I am not lying here when I say they make the most amazing Americano I've ever had in my life. This beats the cafes in Australia (where I discovered the Americano), Starbucks (seriously, that place gets more hype than it's worth!), Second Cup, and dare I say it....Balzac's.

*Depending on my reader here, I just committed blasphemy, yikes!*

In any case, I take the opportunity whenever I am in Walkerton to go and have one of these delicious coffees. I'd say I go in there about once or twice a month. Not really too often.

Imagine my surprise when this past weekend, I drop into The White Rose for a cuppa joe, and the owner/manager/guy who takes too many shifts turns around to make my coffee, then turns back around and asks:

"Was that you who bought me a beer token at beer tent last summer?"

I was taken a little off guard, but I quickly, and happily, answered that yes, in fact that was me, because I think he makes the best coffee anywhere.

He smiled wide and said a gracious thank you. Then we spurred into a weird conversation about chemical additives to food and the wave of health conscious groups demanding healthy food.

I left the cafe feeling pretty calm and happy. It's nice to know that my silly little gesture stood out and was remembered almost a whole year later.

It's like it's brand new information!! (But it's not...)

2009-05-06T17:36:00.003-04:00

Hmm, you know the thing with writing is that I find it so much more fun when I'm doing it for fun. Go figure. So when I HAVE to do it, it's a chore and I get stumped for words. Like right now. The word document on my screen has about 200 words on it, and they don't really flow, and I need about 200 more....hmmmm...interesting how that works....

* * * * * *

And about 45 minutes later, I'm done! I find it interesting that once I make myself accountable for it, I find the motivation to do it, and the words just flow out of my fingertips and onto the keyboard like it was just meant to be. Check it out...

Sunny Sunday

2009-05-03T19:57:00.002-04:00

1. For a night of idle gossip with the ladies.
2. For Conestoga College accepting the program proposal I sent in!!!
3. For country drives.
4. For Walmart finally stocking Jif again :)
5. For a lovely afternoon at the Egli's.
6. For my sense of humour.
7. For rolling out my yoga mat today.

I Read That

2009-04-30T09:08:00.002-04:00

I am a book snob. I will not lie about it to you or to anyone. I like to read obscure books, Canadian authors, and the books that the dude in Stratford recommends to Erin; books that pack a gut wrenching punch that won’t let you put it down.

So imagine my surprise when I gave in to read a…romance novel…because most of my books are in storage right now, and I’ve read through my small pile I kept out several times. She said “Just read it, it’s 800 pages and it will keep you occupied.” I took it home, I put it down, I covered it up with papers, sweaters, this and that. I finished the book I was reading, looked down at my pile of books and sighed…I just wanted something different.

I dug out the book. I resigned and crawled into bed. I read the back cover again. Yikes, how far fetched is this?? A woman who travels in time to the 1700s and fall in love with a Scottish Highlander? Well…I had it in my hands and decided to give it a go.

Now, I know that maybe I am just defending myself when I say that this book really is quite well written and researched. I enjoyed it. I liked reading a romance novel. There. I said out loud. (Or, I wrote it out loud??)

BUT NOTE THIS:

1. While I found the hero of the book (a strapping lad, muscles rippling, kilt swishing, heart of gold) enticing, I also thought to myself….Are you kidding??? This guy is nuts!!! He was so desperately in love with the heroine, I’d call him possessive and overbearing. True, it would be delightful to have a handsome man love and care for me, duel for my honour, and rescue me from certain death, I think I’d get fed up with his antics of ‘you are my wife, you are mine, and no one else can look at you/touch you, etc, etc...’ Which, to be fair, I suppose in the 1700s the notion of women’s lib was far from being, well, a notion.

2. As most romance novels are, this book was full of drama and sex. Pardon me, looooooove making. One would assume that the moments of pleasure are those scenes that find their way behind eyelids and into the dreams of reader. Not me. Instead, this fine book gave me nightmares. That is right. I had nightmares of torture. The torture that was inflicted upon the strapping hero. Lashings and burning, searing hot things placed against my skin. And in the background was the heroine of the book, crying out for me.

So. I am reading the sequel right now. And of course the sequel is never as good as the first one. Needless to say, I think this is my lone one night stand with romance novels. Once this second book is wrapped up (uh, I have to finish reading it now, I mean I’ve invested this much time already. It would be a waste not to finish.), I’ve got my next book lined up. From the dude in Stratford. Good business, I tell ya.

I Try to Walk the Line

2009-04-29T13:46:00.005-04:00

Patience. Some days I have it, other days I don't. For some situations, my patience is as endless as the drops of water in the ocean, for others, it is as little as a minnow.

Waiting for answers, though, is more the minnow type. I sent through my letter of application to college about 4 weeks ago and am impatiently waiting for the acceptance letter (that's how sure I am that I am getting into this program...I'm saying it right here, right now! I'm in!!). Now, 4 weeks really isn't that long, but in Melissa world, it feels like 4 months!

As each day passes me by, my thoughts are swimming around, wanting to make plans for the future, but are halted by the lack of envelopes in my mailbox. I know I can't really expect for such a prompt reply, but I led myself to believe that the wheels would turn a bit faster for a post-grad program than your regular admissions. Foolish me.

Patience is a virtue. Evidently one that I falter on. I must learn to walk a straighter line...

Tuesday feels like Sunday

2009-04-28T21:51:00.002-04:00

1. For the joy other people's children bring me (hehe, thanks Tara!).
2. For the amazing musical talents of Diana Krall.
3. For having terrific friends who do wonderful things for me, just because.
4. For the sweet ride my new car is!!
5. For finally getting the updates prepared for my website.
6. For getting back into my weekly goal setting habit with Julia (thanks Julia!).
7. For spending some time with the Baxter's this past weekend :)

A Slew of Sunday Sevens

2009-04-19T13:22:00.002-04:00

Clearly I have been preoccupied. But I'm back on track!!!

1. For being able to reconnect with my grade 1 bf who moved far far away many years ago.
2. For the delightfully warm weather we've been having.
3. For the anticipation of my new car!!!!
4. For Erin making the two hour trek to see me yesterday :)
5. For the walk at the beach today - true I was in my hoodie, vest and scarf, but it was still great!
6. For the friendliness of small towns - I love that so many people smile and say hello to each other.
7. For hearing the wonderfully hilarious things my niece has learned to say, such as "PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!!" hahaha!

Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret

2009-04-17T10:59:00.002-04:00

I do make jest of my relationship with the big man upstairs (as is evident by that statement. Well played, Melissa, well played...). The fact of the matter is, though, that while I believe and have very positive feelings about God, Jesus and the gang, I know very little about how it all came about. A little part of me wishes I did, but another part of me is satisfied to keep going the way I have been.

Just last night, sitting around the table, there was an even balance of regular church-goers, and Sunday couch potatoes. Me being the couch potato, I found that I would explain and defend myself and my lackadaisical efforts to the others. And my friend kept asking why do I do that, in not so many words.

It got me thinking.

Am I regretful of what I don't know? Do I feel that I missed out on something? Why must I justify this?

To be sure, I am always impressed with people who have a strong faith. Strike that. I am always impressed with people who have a strong, loving and positive faith. Perhaps I have a twinge of jealousy, knowing that they have such a strong connection and confidence, and I do not. But I don't do anything about it to change it.

Instead, I give my action figure Jesus a high five before bedtime, and stand him back up, should he be knocked down. I smile at him and say thanks. Sometimes I nod my head at him and say "word to your mom." That is how I roll.

I suppose that when I am with someone who is all confident, I feel I need to voice that I am not a heathen. Just to be sure. Just to convince myself.

Gone with the Wind

2009-03-31T18:00:00.004-04:00

Well, it happened. It happened in a big way.

One of my articles ran on the front page of the paper!! (You thought it was going to be something bad, didn't you!?!?) Fantastically enough, it was the paper that came out last week on my very birthday! I'd say it was the best unintentional gift ever.

In all my joy and bliss, I decided to share this good news with two of the subjects of my article - Emily and Sophie. Now, they just happen to be two friends who are very near and dear to my heart, however, they also happened to be two people who have taught English overseas as a second language (the topic of my article). As I was heading down to London this past weekend, I thought I'd grab an extra paper and give one to Emily. There is a giant quote on the front page with her name attached to it. I thought she'd like that.

Dinner. I thought I would give it to her at dinner. But no. I forgot it.

The next morning. I thought I would drop by her house and deliver the paper. But no. Instead, the moment I stepped out into the fresh morning air, the wind whipped that paper out of the crook of my purse! It was dancing about in the wind, always three steps ahead of me. My arms were laden with overnight bags, gifts and my purse, and in as awkward waddle, I chased the paper around the parking lot.

I suddenly heard Charlotte's voice giggling at me and yelling "Just get the front paaaaaaaaaaage!!" Hmm, she had a point, at least I could get the front page. Just then, in another gust of wind, the pages from the paper began to separate from one another and I didn't know where to chase! Now that the pages were singly flying around, they were moving faster and farther out of my reach. A clump landed in a puddle, and the front page, THE FRONT PAGE rested for a moment against a fence. I thought about pouncing on it like a puma (ahem, I just turned 29, so clearly not a cougar), but the bags were wearing me down. I took another step forward and woosh! it was gone.

Sigh....again Charlotte's voice "That paper just wasn't meant to get to Emily..."

So. Here it is. Online. Have a read.

And I went out today and bought a NEW paper, this time I will make sure it gets to Emily's house!

Servin' up Sunday

2009-03-29T21:12:00.002-04:00

1. For signing the paperwork on my fabulous new car!! (I get it April 21!)
2. For getting the request for my letter of application from Conestoga.
3. For spending a fab day with family members on my birthday.
4. For the tower of cupcakes that mom made me instead of a cake...mmmm....
5. For the great weekend in London celebrating my birthday with my friends.
6. For Eastside Mario's Linguine Chicken Tetrazzini...my carb craving has been satisfied!
7. For having my article run on the front page of the paper this week -- that was the best unintentional birthday gift ever!!

Twenty...nine.

2009-03-24T20:17:00.003-04:00

You would think by now that I would have realised that no, I can not completely control life. There are too many influences and people around me, that no matter how hard I try, I can not control them.

Not to suggest that this is a post strewn with negative notions, but rather, it's a realistic idea. I firmly believe that I am in control of my own life, that I am the Queen on the chessboard, not just a pawn to be moved around and taken out for the will of someone else.

But still. Twenty-nine is just a couple hours away and where am I? I seem to have been struggling with the 'where am I?' endless question for quite a while now, if you have failed to notice. And let's be obvious, I think we all have noticed.

While I seem to be floundering a bit, I also seem to be feeling that something is making sense. True, I wish that it entirely made sense, especially at moments-from-twenty-nine, I recognize that I am not the only one in my situation.

In my foundering-like ways, I looks for signs to tell me that I am at least heading in the right direction. Two days ago, I experience the best sign of all time.

There I was, zipping along highway nine at eleven o'clock, singing along to Johnny Cash's version of "Personal Jesus." The words "reach out and touch faith" were spilling out of my mouth as my eyes landed upon a shooting star stream it's way across the night sky. A grin grew across my face and my thoughts settled and heart warmed.

It was my sign that something was right. That I just need to be patient and let it all fall into place. I may not be where I thought I would be, but that's ok, it's on the way.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!

2009-03-23T09:37:00.002-04:00

1. For the anticipation of Spring's arrival.
2. For the great layout that KSF has in the Visitor's Guide
3. For the Joe Fresh rainboots that are coming my way! Woo woo!!
4. For finding out that my 3 year old niece still goes around saying I'm her favourite aunt -- even when I'm not there to prompt her.
5. For catching up with friends whom I haven't seen in years.
6. For having a friend who told me I am her most put together friend she knows (HA!).
7. For finding out the little baby bean in my sister's belly has a strong heartbeat :)

Sunday Sevens

2009-03-15T19:35:00.002-04:00

Finally this year feels like it kicking into gear!! January and February were soooooo sluggish, but now it's half way through March, and it's just charging forward!!! I am grateful this time around for the quickening pace!

1. For having a friend that has been in my life for over 20 years. She's pretty much the only one I've got from childhood!
2. For spending time with my mom, just chillin' not talking business.
3. For the multitude of desserts my mom bought me, and it's not even my birthday yet!!!
4. For the tour of the local mirco-brewery.
5. For the helpful ladies at Conestoga College who are putting my mind at ease over the simple process of applying to the post-grad program which I seem to be anxious about.
6. For the carb filled meal I had yesterday...mmmm.....
7. For having wonderful grandparents who look out for me and have my best interests at heart.

Embrace the moment

2009-03-13T17:38:00.003-04:00

Do you know what I love? Hugs. That's right, hugs. I would happily join those Free Hugs people that randomly hit up public places.

I grew up in a house where hugs ran rampant. Arms embracing torsos with the joy of love was the key physical activity in my home. When I left the nest for uni, I severely missed getting my regular dose of hugs. So much so, that I hugged my new friends with a frequency that made me seem weird. I toned it down a little. By my last year, I was living with some friends from home - people who I was entirely 100% comfortable around. So I introduced Hug Time.

Hug Time did not go over as well as I had hoped, but it sure did provoke a lot of entertainment. (Such as me running around the house trying to hug roommates who were laughing hysterically and yelling at me to stop hugging them!)

As I got older, living in more of a solo environment and adult world, the hugging lessened. As did the desire for hugs. I was not prepared to hug my coworkers with the enthusiasm and sincerity that I hugged my family and friends.

I still love hugs, but I take them as they come now. I no longer feel the need to hug someone every time I leave the house. It's still nice, but still...not necessary. Instead, I view hugs as a delightful treat to my day, should I receive one.

Lately, seeing that I have moved back up to the homefront, I am running into people that I haven't seen in a long time. And they give me tremendous hugs. Hugs which I savour and walk away feeling absolutely, positively, wonderful.

Hugs. They really are the best. Go hug someone, it will make their day and yours!

Want vs need? Let's just be thankful.

2009-03-09T18:24:00.004-04:00

I've just got to say this. I generally stay away from this kind of rambling, but...

Today on Ellen, she had a segment about finance and the current economic situation. In true Ellen style, she was pulling a fast one so that she could offload a ton of freebies to a select audience member. Which, if I might interrupt myself, God bless her soul for using her position in the entertainment world to constantly give away stuff like that and help people out.

However, the point I am working towards is that she had a financial advisor on the show, and posed the interview that she would take audience questions. The woman, whom I am sure is representative of many people (which is going to press my point further), spoke on her concern over the economy. Her situation is that she and her husband bought a house last year before things were going south, hubby lost his job, but got a new one, and they have yet to move into the new home. She wanted to know from the financial guy what kind of options they have, as they are stretched.

Mr. Finance, as it turns out, is a just a guy who works for Ellen - it's part of the ploy to give away the free stuff. But before this is revealed, he asks her something and she says that they haven't moved because they have nothing to put in the new house. He then scratches his head, looks at Ellen, and says something like, 'can you give her a toaster, maybe? I don't know...'

I'll stop summarizing the show now.

This is what stumped me. Here is this woman, who had just stated that both she and her husband are employed, making decent money. The have a place to live now, and own a home otherwise. Yet, they won't move into the new house, because it's empty. I realise there is more to this story than this, but still. I wonder....what the hell is in the house they are living in right now??? Are they eating off of cardboard boxes? Are they sleeping on a scattering of grocery bags? Somehow, I would suspect they have furniture aplenty in their current residence, but it's not the new shiny stuff they want.

Hate is a strong word, but, I think it's safe for me to say that I hate it when people use situations beyond their control to blame and take advantage. Yes, I recognize the economy is not at it's best right now, but the majority of North Americans are living in heated homes, with running water and food in the cupboard, and clothes on our backs. They might not be the newest clothes, but what is wrong with last year's wardrobe?

Yet here she is, thinking that she is absolutely stuck in a futile situation. Gifts from Ellen is not going to help her. Realising that life ain't so bad is.

All I can do is scratch my head and remember that my own life....it ain't so bad.

Slackerville's Sunday Sevens

2009-03-09T14:26:00.002-04:00

1. For finishing the book Eat, Pray, Love. Finally a book that actually lives up to the praise it's been given!
2. For being able to wear my jeans and Puma's to work just because I want to.
3. For the excitement of eBay - even though I never actually bid high enough to 'win,' I still get pretty excited at the thought that I actually might :)
4. For the way that the sunshine warms up the inside of my car even when it's so c-c-c-cold outside!
5. For wonderful smelling soaps and shampoos that they put in hotel rooms.
6. For sushi and wine for dinner!
7. For being able to spend an evening with a friend I haven't seen in ages!!!

Sunday Sevens Cinco

2009-03-01T14:00:00.003-05:00

1. For pancakes on Pancake Tuesday!! (Which, by the way, I've decided to give up NOT flossing for Lent...good one, eh?!?!)
2. For my editor at the paper who has been thinking my ideas for articles lately are good!
3. For how easy it is to make my Grandma smile :)
4. For my copy of the cd I made Erin - it's just so random, it puts me in a good mood when I listen to it.
5. For these sunshiney days we've been having.
6. For opening the new jar of peanut butter - I've been anxious to finish up the last one, cause the new one is crunchy!!
7. For finding out that one of my bf's has finally moved into her own apartment, which makes her so incredibly happy, which makes me happy!

Hail to Sunshine

2009-02-28T20:19:00.004-05:00

I'm no meteorologist, but I must say, all this sunshine in the past month really feels extraordinary. I'm feeling pretty confident we've had more sun since January 20 than we normally do at this time of year.

And that makes me feel pretty damn delightful. Just today, I was driving home from my dogsitting gig out of town, and the sun was just streaming in through the windows, kissing my cheeks and putting a smile on my face. Ahhh, such bliss.

One thing that the sun does do, though, is make me antsy for summer. It's one thing to bask in the sun INSIDE the car, all bundled up in my winter coat and scarf, but it's another to be sitting out in the backyard in my shorts and t-shirt, every inch of my bare skin rejoicing in vitamin D.

But for now, I'll just keep my fingers crossed that the sun will keep shining and carry me through. You know, I think I'd do very well in a country that does not have a cold winter...

The write way to do it

2009-02-25T20:09:00.003-05:00

Do you recall that time I said to myself that I am really going to pursue a career as a freelance writer (among other things)? No? You weren't there with me in the back of my mind? Hmmm, well my apologies for not filling you in.

Turns out, bloggerland, that I did have this conversation with myself. And with a few key people. Such as the editor of the local rag who waved a contract in my face within moments of him reading my samples I provided. And such as the dude at www.contactpoint.ca who was advertising for a couple bloggers to join the ranks and offer their sage advise in the field of career development.

Introduction: writing career, I'm proud to introduce you to my business who works with clients on achieving their goals.

They met, they had a glass of pinot grigio, and got along famously. It is a match made in heaven, really.

I may not be the most delighted person at some of the choices I've made, but it turns out the choices that give me stress are actually pushing me in a direction I likely would not have found otherwise. I'll stop saying it's my dumb luck that things fall into place easily, and I'll start saying it's because I'm putting into action my desires to make change.

I like it. And I'll write about it. Here, there, and there too.

Eat, Pray, Love, and...Eat Some More

2009-02-23T16:49:00.011-05:00

It seems to me that the only times I head to church lately is when food is involved. Not to say that I think food is more important than my faith, but...well...it's just good food and I can pray from anywhere.

I can list for you the great meals I've had at different churches, yet I could not list for you those heavenly saints. Is this wrong? Pancakes on Shrove Tuesday, Irish Stew on St. Patrick's day, church lady sandwiches at summer picnics and (sadly) funerals, full on turkey dinners for the Christmas season. All in my belly. All said with a great big Amen.

The last time my little tush found itself on a pew was for a wedding. And before that, another wedding (both times followed by an excellent meal!). Every wedding I attend I pray to God it's not a Catholic wedding because those damn pews are just so uncomfortable. I have to wonder if the tale I was told about pews is true - that they made them like that so you don't get comfy and start to day dream. Rather, in my case, I get fidgety and stop paying attention because I can't stop thinking about my sore bottom.

What is it about the connection of food and the divine? An answered soul and a nourished belly equate to a connection that is faster than Bruce Telecom's Cheetah internet? Wait, just about anything is faster than that. I recant. A connection that is faster than the speed of light.

Pancake Tuesday, so I've been lead to believe, is named so because we are supposed to make pancakes (duh). We must use up all the rich foodstuff in our pantry's to prepare for lent. Wikipedia (the trustiest of sources...) tells me that donuts were also a common choice (Tim Horton's, here I come!) I have observed Pancake Tuesday for many a year, but not once have I given up something for lent. Does this seem fair to the man in Heaven? Am I going to get a stamp on my hand at the pearly gates that indicates I do not have VIP access?

Clearly, I did not grow up in a church-going family. I was told about God, Jesus, Heaven and all that, but we did not attend Sunday service. This has left me in the dark about the supporting reasons for why Christians do some of the things we do. Such as Lent. I understand that we give up something for 40 days to resist sin and live in self-denial of a favoured item. Honestly, though, to do it for 40 days and then to pick up the habit again, what did we learn? That people get grouchy without their booze, cigarettes, chocolate, pepsi, blah blah blah? If we want to impose a self-denial, we should pick something and stick to it forever. That way, when we walk up to those gates, Saint Peter (I know at least one!) will give us a high five and all access as VIP.

I could say that I will give up sugar in my tea. But in all sincerity, it's something that I've been working down on for a while now, and in doing so, I'm just doing it for my health and not for my soul. Maybe on Wednesday I'll cut out the sugar, maybe I won't. Maybe on Wednesday I'll offer up my thanks by addressing my action figure Jesus instead. He's a nice guy to talk to, afterall.

(Action Figure Jesus baptising the rubber ducky)

Seven....plus.

2009-02-23T14:10:00.006-05:00

I am perfectly aware that the world does not revolve around me. But for Pete's sake, if only during these past few day, it did, then I would have posted yesterday with my seven things!!

As I have previously mentioned, the weather up here in the winter blows. However, when I say blows, I do not mean the slang version meaning bad, as I had meant before. I literally do mean the wind blows the snow around here like it is going to take down the world. And interrupt all of Melissa Macfarlane's travel plans.

The sky in Waterloo yesterday was perfectly blue. We stopped by to see my sister for a quick cup of tea, before carrying on our way north. However, upon leaving, a short 15 minutes outside of the city, and roads were less than ideal for driving. The notion of the next hour and 30 minutes of snow drift covered country roads was enough for us to turn the car around and impose on my sister for the night.

But I digress, here is my list for the week.

1. I am grateful for my sister's kindness in that she was excited that the roads were bad which meant we got to spend the night at her house.
2. For the power outage during the week that prompted an evening huddled around the fireplace telling stories with my grandparents.
3. For having friends scattered across Southern Ontario that I can visit with and always have a great time with them.
4. For snowtires that keep me driving and not skating on the roads.
5. For the glory of facebook - yes, facebook. For it's ability to make me feel not so lonesome at the office where I work alone.
6. For the stranger that my friend and I befriended at the bar who made our night out even more hilarious.
7. Last, but not least, for breakfast at the Sunset Grill on Bloor....mmmm.....

Sunday Sevens #3...on a Monday!

2009-02-16T18:37:00.003-05:00

You guessed it, seven things from the past seven days that I am grateful for!!

1. For having a Grandma who says that she liked the dinner I made over and over, even though I'm pretty sure she didn't.
2. For being able to relate to my girlfriends, even though we are all in entirely different places.
3. For Spike TV and A&E - they make it easy to find a rerun of one of the CSI's.
4. For chocolate milkshakes at The 50's Diner in Hanover...mmmm....
5. For being the kind of person who does not get sucked in by the salesman at the car dealership.
6. For my growing confidence at my job.
7. For being given an apology from an old high school boyfriend, even though it was entirely not necessary now.

The Hard Sell

2009-02-11T20:45:00.002-05:00

The lease on my car is coming to an end in the next few months, so I thought I would be on top of the game and check out my options.

I casually strolled into the dealership and laid it out on the table - I want to know what is the better choice, what is most cost effective, etc, etc. I chatted with the salesman for a while, we looked at different cars and pricing structures.

I told him I don't want, or need for the matter, all the fancy stuff on a car. I just want a base model with cd player, that's all. He kept bringing up these cars that had these options on it, and I kept telling him, no thanks!

So he's making a comparison for me, on a loaded car, vs the car my bro bought a few months ago. I look at him and say, "Kris, I should be living in the woods in a hut and riding a bicycle. That's how much I care about having options. I'd be happy with the bike and hut."

He stared at me for a moment and then burst out laughing. I think I drove home my point.

Sunday Sevens #2

2009-02-08T18:35:00.003-05:00

Things from the past seven days to be grateful for....

1. Being able to meet up with friends for a coffee who I don't get to see that often, even if the reason they came to town was for a funeral.

2. Sunshine!! This past week had a lot of sunshine peeking through. I love the feeling of sun on my face :)

3. Johnson's baby bedtime bubble bath. I really bought for when my bro brings Olivia up to visit, but I used it for myself the other night....it made me sleep like a baby.

4. Randomly running into Michelle and Chase in the mall. I was hoping that I'd see someone I knew when I went to London on Saturday afternoon and I did! It makes me happy to see them.

5. My dvd's of Friends. It's my favourite show, and it never fails to make me laugh.

6. The bakery section at Sobey's for having one last piece of cheesecake waiting just for me...

7. The vibrating alarm on my cell phone that gently wakes me up in the morning. Such a delightful way to welcome a new day!

What will tomorrow hold?

2009-02-05T17:40:00.003-05:00

So I read my horoscope every day. It's kind of more for entertainment, not really a guide for daily life. I used to read it at the end of the day, just to see how it measured up.

Lately, though, I've gotten into the habit of reading it the day before. You know, I click on "tomorrow." Sometimes it makes sense, other times it is completely off base.

But those days when it does make sense, it makes me wonder. I mean yes, I realise that horoscopes are generalized so the reader can apply it to their own life. But when my horoscope says something about how I've been over eating crappy food (which I have been) and I might begin to regret it, and then the very next morning I feel so nauseous I barely want to eat at all. Hmmm....mind over matter? Or how about when it tells me that Monday will not be a good day for work, I won't have much focus, I'll be interrupted a lot, and then Monday turns out to be just so. Creepy, or am I making these things happen?

Ahhh...only the stars above know.

Everything I need to know…I didn't learn in Kindergarten

2009-02-02T11:24:00.000-05:00

I’m 28. Soon to be 29. What I am about admit to you, you would not expect to hear from someone my age. If a 12 year old girl told you this, I think you’d shrug it off. But this…this is, completely and utterly nonsensical.

This past weekend, my little three year old niece Olivia came up for a visit. After supper time, she and I went on a hunt for the missing flashlight (ahem, the flashlight that I had hid in the cupboard before dinner because she was flashing it in everyone’s eyes…shhhh). We went upstairs and looked in every room. When we got to my room, I sat down, and she looked at all my stuff. I showed her my stuffed animals (yes, I still have some on my bed), and then I picked up this lovely fluffy dog and asked her if she would like to sleep with it.

She said yes.

My heart began to race and my hands started to shake.

Inside my head there was this panicked voice screaming at me ARE YOU CRAZY!?!?! YOU’RE GIVING YOUR TOY TO HER!?!??! I then answered the voice and told myself I was silly. She’s my niece who I love love love to pieces, and this dog was only a toy.

But still. I couldn’t believe I had even offered this.

So what did I do? Well…I gingerly took back my stuffed animal, hugged him, and promptly put him back on my bed where he belongs and shooed Olivia out of the room.

Phew, this explosive sharing situation was avoided!!

The first Sunday Sevens

2009-02-01T11:42:00.002-05:00

Ok, here we go. Seven things that I am grateful for from this past week.

1. Snow tires
2. Text messaging
3. 27 Dresses (seriously)
4. Olivia's giggle
5. Coffee from Books and Beans
6. Having an older bro who admits to needing some advice from me (hehehehe)
7. My notebook and pen

I feel that I am off to an excellent start!

Answering the Call

2009-01-30T14:17:00.003-05:00

We can all use a pick me up every now and then. We can all use a kick in the pants from time to time as well.

My blog buddy (also known as bff Julia mentioned below), came across a blog challenge, Grace in Small Things. In the past, I have blogged about things that I am grateful for. I tell my mom and my friends about things that I am grateful for. But I'm not really in the habit of thinking about it every single day, the way that I should.

And when I say, "the way that I should," I mean in the way that I really do have a blessed life, even though my neurotic little mind doesn't get it sometimes. God bless North America and our life of never ending want. That's a whole other post....anywho.

So here's my answer to the challenge. Sunday Sevens. Every Sunday, (assuming I am somewhere that I can post) I will blog about seven things from the previous week that I am grateful for. From little things like the new slippers I bought, to big things, like my grandparents.

Oh, it's on Julia, it's on!

The pedal to the metal

2009-01-27T13:32:00.005-05:00

This past weekend I went to visit old bff (not to say she's not a current bff, but I mean my oldest bff) Julia.

She lives in the fine city of TO - the fine city that I just ran away from as if it was burning to the ground, and the hem of my pants were close to catching on fire.

The short drive from where I dropped my mom off in Mississauga to Julia's apartment took me well over an hour. Now, I'm sure there was a quicker route, but alas, I pretty much picked my route by the street names I knew. Really, that makes sense, doesn't it?

As I sat in traffic, I became aware of my road rage once again. Sigh. Damn those drivers on their cell phones, damn those drivers who don't stay in their lanes, damn those drivers who cut me off, and damn those drivers whose music blares so loud, I have to turn up my own radio to hear it. The thump thump thump of Ludacris drowns out my Taylor Swift. Sheesh!

Funny thing though, is that driving to me is a relaxing escape. When I'm feeling all mixed up about anything, being able to get into the car and drive somewhere just leaves the stress in the dust. So even in my moments of road rage on St. Claire Ave, I still find peace. You know, in between the yelling and throwing my hands in the air. I can breathe...breathe...breathe.

I was happy to park my car in the parking lot of her building and let it sit there, untouched, until I was ready to head back home. I don't actually mind driving in traffic, but the TTC really is a godsend. I finally used up the rest of my tokens I took with me when I left, thinking that I will eventually use them. True, it's only been a matter of about 4 months, but still, that seems an awful long time to have 3 tokens, considering I'd go through 10 in a week before.

We zipped our way around the city by streetcar or subway. As I stood up on the subway to get ready for our stop, I had to focus to keep my balance. I felt like my subway-riding skills I had perfected went down the drain. (Could also have something to do with the fact that I am a couch potato now...) I teetered back and forth and had to hold the pole to stay on my feet. Good thing this was before the wine (but after the mimosa with lunch).

Everyone is just in such a rush to get places down there. It's a city on the go. Perhaps it was their frantic actions that started the fire that made me leave...

And then....nothing!

2009-01-18T11:17:00.002-05:00

The all too familiar situation came around yet again. For the first time, however, it happened in this little town.

I ran into a rather good looking guy on the street. He was standing there with a map in hand, looking up and down the road. He asked me if I could point out on the map just where he was. I pointed to him our location, as he told me he was in town that day for interview and wanted to check out the town.

Conversation started about the town and I thought to myself, hmmm...nice prospect. Our chat came to a lull, and I had to get to work. We said goodbye and walked away.

As I turned around it dawned on me that I did not ask him his name, nor did I tell him mine. I didn't wish him luck on his interview and say I hope to run into him again. I had the opportunity before me, and I forgot to flirt it up!!

This, folks, seems to be my problem. When the perfect situation arrives, my mind goes blank and I forget, and then I walk away. A wasted moment, really. Geeze Louise!!!

Ready and Waiting

2009-01-17T18:38:00.002-05:00

There are words stuck in my fingertips. I sit with my laptop on top of my lap, my fingers posed and hovering asdf jkl;. There are thoughts are jammed in my head, struggling to get out, yet they stay there, like cholesterol blocking up an atery. Maybe I need one of those balloons to get it all out...

Uhh...PS

2009-01-11T14:40:00.002-05:00

I don't know if you noticed, but apparently I am having trouble making up my mind with the layout of this blog. It seems that I am changing it every other day. I think, however, that I have just decided this one is a keeper. I love that it is exactly the same one I had before I started changing it all around with the exception of the colour.

Yes. I do drive myself crazy.

Colour me bad

2009-01-10T18:18:00.002-05:00

I've been keeping a keen eye over the past year or so for any changes. You know, those changes that come with age. For example, grey hair. Each inspection proved to be a good one - not a single silver hair was found.

Blond reigns true!!

Until two days ago, that is. There I was getting ready for bed, brushing teeth, looking at my baby crows feet. And something caught my eye. A glimmer, if you will, a sparkle that emanated from my half up - half down hairdo.

I put my interest in the tiny wrinkles aside, and slowly moved my hand up to capture this...thing...I saw shimmering in my hair.

I delicately grabbed a hold of it. Hmmm....just what was I seeing?

Now, if you knew me, you would know I am a long time dyer of my hair. Since the tender age of 14, when my beach blond hair was introduced to the ways of the woman and quickly became a shade known as dirty blond. I put a stop to that with my friend Miss Clairol! In the past few years, however, I have been making efforts to have a more healthy head of hair, meaning that I only dye what is on top. Underneath was au natural until about September when I was overcome by hair dye excitement.

Right, my point. So in these past few years, I have been admiring the real colour of my hair. Depending on the light, it can be a warm golden blond with some red thrown in there, or it can appear a cool silvery blond.

This cool silvery blond had made the search for greys a bit tedious, as I have to examine extra careful and consider the lighting. My little moments in the past when my heart has pitter pattered over the suspected spotting of a grey were quickly vanquished when I realised I had jumped to conclusions.

I had hoped this was the case two days ago.

So there I was, straining and peering, cocking my head to the right to try to get a good look. I found my makeup bag and rummaged for a hand mirror to try to look at it from another angle. It showed me the same thing, a strand once full of life and colour, now announcing the fact that age is catching me.

There was only one way to be sure. I ran to my bedroom, still holding onto the strand, and found my little scissors. I was going to cut it out! Hold it right in front of my eyes and confirm once and for all.

A single snip. I held it out before me. I squinted. I sighed. I held it up high. I held it down low. I pulled it through my fingertips pressed together.

It sure looked grey to me.

Curses. I looked back at the mirror. And there, out of the corner of my eye, was a glimmer. A second glimmer. Heavens have mercy, there were two!! What is a girl to do!?!

I pulled the hair elastic out of my hair and shook my head. As my hair fell and covered the tale tell signs, I took a quick once over of the top. Nothing. Relief.

I let it be. It will become me. Perhaps these two strands are just a quick hello from 2009, and their friends will not come around for many more years.

You keep your fingers crossed for me, and I shall for you.

I resolve...

2009-01-05T11:15:00.002-05:00

New Years Resolutions. Why do we have to make resolutions for the New Year? I suppose it is that mentality of a new year, a new start, blah blah blah, and all that. I like to think that we should make resolutions for ourselves at any given time during the year. You could look at it from the perspective of "it's a new month/day/hour/minute" or whatever.

Regardless. I do have a resolution for this year. I need to a make a change, a real change (as opposed to those 'fake' changes I made last year!). I'm not exactly sure just what this change entails but I suspect it involves a better focus on my business, and now on my writing and taking that to a whole new level.

Tee hee, and I resolve to blog more again. We've heard that one before, I know, but look! Already 2 posts for 2009! I'm off to an excellent start!

Good luck to you and your resolutions!

Counting Backwards

2009-01-01T20:09:00.004-05:00

It seems that 2009 has found it's way into my life already. I am still looking over my shoulder wondering where 2008 went. The 12 months that have just whipped right by me left me with a few learned lessons.

I am full of it. Yup, that's right. Take a peek backwards and you will see little entries where I promised to blog more. Yet I did not keep my word. Sigh...
Changing my choices paid off!! Running blindly into the future got me a gig as a writer, so way to go on being foolish and perhaps irresponsible! Woop woop!!
My dedication to buying lottery tickets hasn't exactly paid off just yet. But don't worry, I'll keep at it! I don't believe in giving up!
The intuition razor is not all it promises. If it really knew what I needed in a razor, it would last more than 5 shaves. It's intuition is not validated.
Living the city made me crave the country. Living the country made me crave the city. Clearly, I just don't know what I want. Perhaps I'll figure this out in 2009!

Sure, these lessons might seem frivolous to you, but to me...major impact. It's not just beauty that is in the eye of the beholder. So is life.

When Fluffy Flakes Fill the Sky

2008-12-14T20:21:00.005-05:00

Blustery days and nights have been abound in Bruce County. We are weathered drivers ready to take on snow covered roads and face white outs.

Well, most of us are.

There I was, driving along the county road as flakes were making their way to the ground on the crisp night. The roads were not too slick, but slick enough to keep me well paced.

It's not so bad, I thought, as I slowed down for the village ahead. Warm windows glowed along the side of the road, revealing families inside safe and warm. I picked up the pace as I left the village.

Suddenly I was surrounded by snow - I didn't know where it came from. I took my foot off the gas and gripped the wheel.

Just breathe...

Sure, I didn't know where the shoulder was, or if I was in my lane, but, I thought, as least I know where I am. I know this road like the back of my hand. I am just past Lucknow....

Oh God. Wait. I felt like I was suckerpunched. I haven't gotten to Lucknow yet. Where in the F am I!?!? I can't see anything but white and I don't know where I am!!

I couldn't even breathe.

I started to talk to myself out loud. "Don't panic, don't panic. Where did I just drive through?" I drew a blank. Hollyrood. "Hollyrood. I just drove through Hollyrood. I know where I am."

Thank God this road is straight.

"Ok, think Melissa. Think of this road. Where are you on this road?" I felt the car go up an incline. I caught my breath. "You are going up this hill, and there is the house on the left, you'll go back down the hill, the road is straight."

The wall of white was lifting. I couldn't see the house on the left. My mind started to scream again WHERE AM I!?!?

Still creeping forward, I felt the car go up another incline. The snow was dissipating. I saw the house I thought was a hundred meters back. My shoulders fell, the constricted feeling in my chest subsided.

I drove out of the white out. Barely a flake was in the air. I could see the lights of Lucknow farther up the road. I could see the stars in the sky.

Winter driving sucks.

What you talkin' 'bout Willis?

2008-12-07T19:36:00.001-05:00

I like to toot my own horn every now and then. Who doesn't? I am a woman of many capabilities, I can handle the pressure, the stress, the hundred projects thrown at me all at once. I am, however, a realist to a certain degree, and admit to a few faults.

Such as multitasking while driving. This I can not do. (Which, in my mind, is a good thing. Driving should demand all your attention, after all, you're steering a tonne of metal.) I can not eat and drive. I can not change cd's and drive. I can not text and drive. I can not talk on my cell phone and drive. I can not apply makeup and drive. I can not read the newspaper and drive.

Ok. I exaggerate. I CAN do these things at the same time, just not very well. (Or in the matter of reading the newspaper and driving, I CHOOSE not to do that. I feel no explanation is necessary here.)

I blame part of the inability upon the fact that I drive a stick shift. Unless I'm cruising down the highway and don't need to change gears at all, I'm left with no hand to either steer or change gears if I'm mid-multitasking. Sometimes an extra arm wouldn't be such a bad thing. Holding that phone up to my ear while sitting at a red light is ok until the light turns green. Then all of a sudden, what arm am I going to use to change gear? I have to excuse myself from the conversation so I can shift up to the appropriate gear. That's a bit rude to the person on the other end, I feel.

So I am an advocate of not talking on the phone while driving. I am perfectly aware that it is legal to do so in this fine province of Ontario, but I like to believe that there are some folks on my side here. Maybe even perhaps some men and women in blue.

How annoyed do you get by drivers swerving on the road, by drivers who sit too long at the green light, by drivers who are clearly not paying attention to the road and their surroundings? How much more are you annoyed when you drive past them only to see them yakking away on their cell phone??

In case you hadn't guessed, I get really annoyed.

The top of the list was blown off the other week when there was a driver up ahead of me who driving slow, veering into the lane I was coming up along. The car was no other than a police cruiser. We pulled up to a red light, our cars side by side. I looked over at the driver and what did I see? Officer Talks-A-Lot on his cell phone. Hmmm....likely not police business, after all, would not they contact him on the cb radio??

Rx for Technology

2008-11-26T20:45:00.002-05:00

So I finally got myself a doctor. After all these years of going to the walk in clinics. How nice.

While I was there, I decided to ask her about the bruise I have on my shin. Sure, you're thinking, it's a bruise, what's the big deal?

Well...because it has been about a year since I fell down the stairs - or rather, slid down the cement and steel stairs on my shins. That's an awful long time to have a bruise.

This is what she said to me:

"Oh, well, it is likely a haematoma. Just look it up on the internet."

And then she progressed with taking my blood pressure.

So nice to finally have a doctor of my own who is concerned for my health and wellbeing, and making sure I understand.

Maybe I'm better off at the clinic.

Another "Dearest Blog" Blog

2008-11-17T20:48:00.002-05:00

Dear Blog,

I just don't know what I have been thinking lately. I mean, such neglect!! I feel such a passion for writing, and I owe it all to you, blog!! Yet, here I am, living my life and not recording the funny finer moments.

Someone needs to reprimand me for it.

Sincerely,
Melissa

Say what!?!?

2008-08-07T20:58:00.004-04:00

Do you want to know what I have realised?

That when I am out in public, listening to my iPod, the random and multiple thoughts that I have are often not kept in my head. I find myself muttering out loud, not realising what I am doing. The music in my ears fills all I can hear. I get quirky looks from the people around me, and as realisation sinks in, my expression changes to that "oh crap" kind of look. Then I smile like a goof in an attempt to redeem myself as a sane person, as a person who does not usually talk to herself like that in public.

But no....I think maybe they think I'm crazy.

And next...the world!

2008-08-01T22:45:00.003-04:00

I felt a little like Carrie did when she finally got her book. Excitement pulsed through me, and I squealed at my desk. I couldn't believe it had happened!!

It was less than a month ago that I had decided to make a serious move about my love of writing. I thought to myself...."Self, you should become a freelance writer." So I answered, "Okey doke, smoke. I'll do that."

I put together a few pieces, sent them out.....and got a raving response!!!! I couldn't believe it! Sweet maria!! My silly little piece about the day I killed a fish while fishing is going to be published! Yippy!!

Soooo.....away I go! Freelance writer extraordinaire!

I'll keep you posted ;)

Plenty of....ummm....eek.

2008-07-28T19:03:00.001-04:00

These online dating sites seem to have taught me a few things.

1. Guys really don't get my sense of humour. Rather, they misunderstand my sarcasm and take offence and do not speak with me further. I say suck it up buttercup!!! I was kidding! Sheesh....and yet they crack jokes and expect it should not be an issue for me. Which it's not. I like jokes. The giving and the getting. What babies. (hahah!)

2. Those black men sure don't hold back on the compliments! Woo woo, talk about boosting your self esteem when you get a flood of messages from fine black men telling you that you are beautiful! Made me blush a little, tee hee....

3. That online dating is not for me. I actually agreed to meet one guy, who was nice and all, but he just wasn't for me. We had a drink, some conversation, and parted ways, no hard feelings. I'm quite sure he had similar feeling towards me. I'm not sure what got into me that day when I agreed to meet him, but I'm glad that I did. I felt good about stepping outside of my little box and doing something I usually would not do. As for meeting people otherwise, or even giving them my msn and really, telling them anything very personal, flags go flying about in my brain, STRANGER DANGER!!!!!! I guess it turns out that I am not interested in meeting perfect strangers after a brief encounter online. Carrying on conversations with guys for an extended period seems to bore guys, however, I am not game to meet up after chatting once or twice. I guess I have more patience. Or more caution, anyways, lol!! I'm not sure.

I think I'll try my luck elsewhere....yikes!

Oh right. And number 4. I have also learned that there are quite a few men in their 40's who think I should date them. I say....no thank you, sir. Have a nice day.

Facing my Foibles

2008-07-09T18:31:00.001-04:00

It really is true. Facebook seems to have taken over my life. I come home from work, and the second thing I do (the first being to pee - isn't that the first thing everyone does??) is turn on my computer to check my facebook. It's been since, when, November that I've been an addicted facebook user? You would think that by now, I'd have this thing all figured out.

Until.......I am friend requested by a Roberto in Colombia. Not so bizarre when you realise that I have a step brother who lives there. I accept his friendship, and promptly write on his wall the lone Spanish sentence I can confidently say. That being the lone Spanish sentence I teased 12 year old Roberto with when I visited Colombia February last year.

"Donde esta el bano"

Where is the washroom.

He thought I was nuts that I kept saying it to him for the whole week. But we would laugh and bond over this regardless.

But then, the very next day after I accepted his friendship, I got another friend request from a Roberto in Colombia. Hmmm....how peculiar. I was a little confused. I clicked on my new friend Roberto's link to his page and look at the top (as he does not have a picture posted of himself). It said Birthday: 1959. Oh my. Clearly this is not 12 - wait, now 13 year old Roberto. Who did I just become friends with and flagrantly toss around my lone Spanish sentence with!?!?! I really don't know. I rack my memory. Brenda (aka stepmother) has a brother, was his name Roberto too? I think so. Was little Roberto's dad's name the same? I don't know! I've never met him, so why would he befriend me? But I don't think brother (ahem, who would technically by my step-uncle) is quite that old to be born in 59. Oy. I need to be more careful who I accept to be facebook friends with.

So now I am little leery to accept this second Roberto's friendship. What if it's not little step-bro Roberto? Sigh, what is a girl to do?

I'll tell you what a girl is to do. Send a flurry of an email to the other step bro who has reasonable English skills and humourously tell him this situation and ask for clarifications of Robertos. My goodness. I hope he is able to follow my ramble and help a sista out.

Sheesh. This whole facebook thing is crazy.

Handle with care

2008-06-24T19:43:00.002-04:00

I had to think about a handle. Not about my little love handles. Not about the fact that I need to get a handle on my life. Nooooo....but a screen name, a user id, a "handle" that other users would know me by.

Oy.

I mean, I consider myself a fairly creative person and all, but I was stumped. Not only did I have to do that, but then I had to come up with a line, a pick up line, if you will, to pose to all the viewers out there.

That's right. A pick up line. I signed up on not one, but TWO online internet dating sites. (Ahem, the free ones....) All in the name of humour, really. What can it hurt? I might end up with some comedic conversation, and now I have an outlet to practise flirting.

Within moments of registering myself, I had messages popping up on my screen. Men who wanted to chat with me. They were sending me emails. They were winking at me.

I'm not going to lie to you. I was scared!!! I didn't know what to do!!!!!

So I shut my computer off.

And then I turned it back on. And logged in again.

I looked at the emails again, read the profiles of these potential courters. Some of them made me groan with the "eek, are you kidding me!?!?" while others made me laugh. I'd like to point out that not one made me feel giddy. Not that I was expecting to, but still, I just want you to know. I even answered to one, just for the hell of it.

On one site, I wrote my line as "This fish wants a bicycle" (yup, compliments to Heather over at This Fish). I'm just waiting for someone to clue into what I mean. It clearly does not mean I want to go fishing, as one gentleman was mistaken in thinking. Honestly. Women's lib? Anyone? Gloria Steinem? Irina Dunn?? C'mon......

Yeesh, how would Gloria and Irina feel about online dating sites? Oh dear, maybe I should unregister myself and throw the notion of a bicycle out the window.

Green Peace

2008-06-16T19:36:00.002-04:00

The longer I dwell in the city, the more it seems that I crave the peace and quite of the country.

On a particularly glum day for me last week, I woke up early, put on my jeans and t-shirt, and got in my car. I did not put on my dress pants and blouse and ride the subway downtown, even though it was the middle of the week. No, I needed a moment's peace, and I knew exactly where I could find it. I pointed my car northwest and drove until the concrete disappeared behind me, and fields of green extended for kilometers upon kilometers.

What should have been a 2 1/2 hour drive home, found its way well past 3 hours.

When I was safely out of the city, away from the noise, traffic and smog, and I pulled my car over to the side of the road. The crunch of the gravel shoulder subsided as I rolled to a stop. Not another car in sight. I emerged from my car, and walked around the passenger's side. I sat down on the shoulder, and rested my head again the car door. Before me was a farm field as far as the eye could see. The wind blew gently, making the tall grasses bow and sway with a rhythm that was in sync with what my heart was looking for. The occasional car drove by, but I barely noticed. I stared out across the land, taking in deep breaths, closing my eyes from time to time. The sun was breaking through the clouds that were slowly dissipating, beaming down to warm my face.

This is peace. This is serenity. This is where I find my centre.

I stood up, took one last long look at the expansive meadow. The day seemed a bit brighter now; the drive before me less daunting. I knew now that I could make it.

I had found my green peace.

It never ends

2008-05-09T17:48:00.003-04:00

When he says to me "I was thinking about you today..." I just want to bash my head on the wall and scream out "WHY, GOD, WHY!?!?"

Is it appropriate to say back to him "I thought about you 67584 times today..."??

Not likely. Damn.

Caught on Tape

2008-04-27T19:55:00.000-04:00

As of late, my roomie dearest and I have been attending the film screenings for the upcoming Mississauga Independent Film Festival. This is what I have learned:

I do not get short film.

I sit in my seat, eyes fixated on the screen (mostly) with a quizzical look on my face. This quizzical expression screams out what is being repeated in my head "W...T....F...."

The most recent screening we went to, in which the theme was Funny, had a myriad of short films that left me stumped. True, I did find them funny and amusing, but it was more or less because I was a bit confused. I had missed the point of these films, and much to my relief, so had my roomie. Phew....

The highlight for me of the selection of the evening was a short called "Robo-Jew." Yes, that's right, Robo-Jew. I'll let your imagination work on that for a moment. Tick, tick, tick...time is up. What do you think it's about? A giant Jewish robot??? Why, yes, then, you are correct. The basis of this flick is that a giant sized Nazi woman is stomping all over the city, destroying people with her Nazi hating laser gaze and striking fists. The people are running around the streets, scared and screaming. A young Jewish man is seen, praying for someone to come and help them. Then duh-duh-duh-duuuuuhh, Robo-Jew hears the call and comes to the rescue! He rids her with his Star of David weapon and saves the day! Yay for Robo-Jew!!!

I honestly did not know if somewhere in there someone out there should be offended or not. I guess I should say no, since after all, I keep an action figure Jesus in the living room for my sheer amusement.

When the film was done, Jen and I turned to each other, baffled, we both opened our mouths to say something, but found ourselves speechless. Then we burst out laughing.

We had a similar reaction to the rest of the films that night. Hmmm....Maybe I need to introduce myself to these film making people and ask them if they can provide a Coles Notes booklet to me so I can get a little better direction. That's not too much to ask, is it?

I suppose the important thing is that I thought they were funny. So in essence, they served their purpose. Well done, film makers, well done!

The Subway: It just seems like the thing to write about

2008-04-09T20:43:00.005-04:00

I know what I might sound like. A little snotty, a little judgemental. But honestly, I think you will agree.

I am continually horrified by the way some women sit on the subway. I'm all for being comfortable, and understand the notion of relaxing a bit after a gruelling day in the office, or suffering from the morning sleepies.

But, Ladies.

When you are wearing a skirt, sit with your legs closed. I don't care how tired you are. I don't care what your day was like. Close them up. No one needs to see up there.

I hate to think that I randomly notice, and then quickly avert my eyes elsewhere. But I hate to think even more of pervy guys who notice, and then slouch down in their seats a bit more to get a better view. Who wants to expose themselves like that? And I mean that both literally and figuratively.

Gah!!! And while I am going to sound terribly judgey again - I think the bit that really gets me about these peepshow women on the subway, is that they are usually dressed in their nice business attire and look like classy women. Women who would be classy enough and smart enough to sit in that polite fashion with their knees together and their ankles crossed.

I don't know. Perhaps I just live in a different world. Maybe it's a big city thing to flash your va-jay-jay around and I just didn't get the memo.

Now that I think about it....I hope I don't ever get that memo :S

A little different this time...

2008-03-27T21:04:00.001-04:00

Sleeping in was not an option during my summers as a kid. Everyone loves to sleep in -- I bet you do. But no, not me, not then. The sun rose, the roosters crowed, and my feet hit the hardwood floor.

Every year, my brother, sister and I spent the summer at my dad's farm. We ran wild and rampant in fields, forests and farmyards. We had chores to do, hay to bail, chickens to feed, and sun to soak up. True, I left behind my gaggle of friends in the city each time, but I knew I was heading for an experience that my friends would never have. I felt kind of lucky.

My dad opened up a whole new world to me. He made me appreciate nature and life away from my barbie dolls. I learned about animals, about crops, and about eating without having to go to the grocery store. Have you ever made a meal that came from your own backyard? Can you just imagine chicken so fresh and juicy you don't want to stop eating even when you're ready to burst? That was our typical Sunday night dinner.

That meant Sunday morning we had to go out to the yard to catch a chicken. I don't know if you've ever been chicken chasing, but let's just leave it at it's not so easy. I would end up with fits of giggles and find myself being chased by the chickens instead.

There is one Sunday I will never forgot. I don't think my brother or sister will ever forget either. The choice chicken had been captured, my brother was holding it as steady as he could upon the tree stump, while my dad held up the axe like a bronzed god ready to provide a table of plenty to his family.

The axe fell. My sister and I were perched upon the old wooden fence, patient in the shade. Flies were buzzing around our heads, the horse was switching his tail on the other side of the fence, vying for the small spot of shade from the tall birch tree, but careful not to get too near us. My sister jumped down and made her way to where my dad and brother stood. After all this time, I still don't know what urged her to walk over and look at the beheaded chicken.

There it lay. There she stood. And there, upon that chopping block, it found a surge of life and jumped up, beating it's wings, landing on it's feet, and ran headfirst for my sister. I say 'headfirst', but really, it was 'headlessfirst'! You can't imagine the look of sheer horror that moved across my sisters face. She was frozen in place for only an instant, but then kicked up dirt like she was running for her life! I, safe upon the fence, had to hold onto the rail to stop from falling off with laughter. This beheaded, and now bloody chicken was chasing my sister! It was karmic retribution right before our eyes!

She deeked right, the chicken followed. She made a hard left, the chicken followed. It trotted along behind her, keeping pace like an assassin. I think now of the headless horseman, and the poor townsfolk who were haunted by him. Lucky for my sister, there was no way a chicken could claim her head for its own. But then it started to close in on her, she was trapped by the tractor shack. She was screaming like a girl -- oh wait, she is a girl. It moved in for the kill, it darted up along beside her, brushing it's body against her skinny little chicken legs, leaving traces of blood running down into her sock.

We were no help to the situation, my dad and brother were laughing just as hard as I was. My sister was now crying. My dad had to swallow his laughter. The chicken had it's last run. It fell over in a heap. My dad walked over to her and wiped her tears, wiped her leg. He told her to go into the house to wash it off and then scooped up the chicken and followed behind her. A prize for his wife.

I can't recall now if my sister ate much dinner that night. For all I know, she reached for a chicken leg with relish, thinking "you little....". She's like that though, a little mean, a little saucy. What older sister isn't?

It was just another day on the farm, though. Monday morning came, the dawn cracked like a whip sending us off to the barn to brush the horses and feed the chickens. We were back on track; all barnyard duties were seen to which left the rest of the day open to a fairytale land for us to invent until supper time. I wouldn't have traded it for a summer of concrete and sleeping in at all.

Riiiiiiiiiight

2008-03-12T17:59:00.002-04:00

It just seems so ironic.

There I am, minding my own business on the bus, when I notice this guy giving me the eye. He holds my gaze for a moment and looks away.

I think to myself, hmmmm......he actually has a few features there in his face like Brad Pitt. Wow.

Stunning fellow.

I look away.

I look at him again. There is he, looking at me. I kind of smile. He kind of smiles. We both look away.

This carries on for about the next 5 minutes. He gets up to walk towards the door. Nice. One stop before mine. What are the chances.

He looks back one more time, this Brad Pitt look-a-like.

I give him the complete once over -- which means I look at his hands. As in, I look at his left hand. Call it a habit of mine.

And what do I see?????

A wedding band. Shiny gold ring.

Apparently, he already has an Angelina.

Just as well. I'd say I'm more like Jen anyway.

Kickin' it in the SWO

Book It

A Year in Review

My Favourite Driving Technique

Since when is 12 the magic number?

The Rural Compromise

Sleep Tight

Ten Years

Eight Arms to Hold You

Can't Buy Me Love (And Happy Mother's Day!!)

In person or bust.

Hindsight is more than 20/20. It's like Superman vision.

Farewell Dinner

Every year....

My Addiction

A Simple Transaction

Who me?

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Gym?

Movin' on and movin' up

This is merely procrastination

A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

In the name of the written word

Is it wrong I think this is funny? Not according to this mom.

A welcoming tale of veggie wars

Back in Black

I'll see you in September, I'll see you when the summer's through...

Catchin' up on Sevens

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Contact made!

The Elusive Attempt of Contact

Did you know?

Simply Seven

And then there was none.

7+7+7+7+7+7+7+....that's a lot!

Nice or....nice?

777777777777777.....

Just another Sunday

Seven things on an actual Sunday!

What is the difference?

Rise and Shine!

What? It's not Sunday still??

It can never be over-played to me

Just another Sunday

A brand new tune

The Rise and Fall

Sssssssss......7

*Shudder*

Seven-ooo's

My Generic Adventure

Say what?

One, Two...la la la Seven

Nice = Nice

It's like it's brand new information!! (But it's not...)

Sunny Sunday

I Read That

I Try to Walk the Line

Tuesday feels like Sunday

A Slew of Sunday Sevens

Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret

Gone with the Wind

Servin' up Sunday

Twenty...nine.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!

Sunday Sevens

Embrace the moment

Want vs need? Let's just be thankful.

Slackerville's Sunday Sevens

Sunday Sevens Cinco

Hail to Sunshine

The write way to do it

Eat, Pray, Love, and...Eat Some More

Seven....plus.

Sunday Sevens #3...on a Monday!

The Hard Sell

Sunday Sevens #2

What will tomorrow hold?

Everything I need to know…I didn't learn in Kindergarten

The first Sunday Sevens

Answering the Call

The pedal to the metal

Shudder