#5. Speak a foreign Language

Feliz Navidad y Prospero Ano Nuevo!!!


T y yo va a viajar a México durante las vacaciones, así que han decidido aprender español. Tengo que aprender a decir 'otra copa por favor "o" que me señale en la dirección de mi habitación.

Estamos cansados de palear la nieve, la circulación por carreteras heladas, y viendo la red del tiempo como si fuera televisión prime time.

Así de T & I, esperamos que sus vacaciones son maravillosas y que el año nuevo trae nada más que cosas buenas.

Nos vemos en 2011!

T and I will be traveling to Mexico over the holidays so I have chosen to learn Spanish. I need to learn how to say 'another drink please' or 'point me in the direction of my room'.


We are tired of shovelling snow, driving on icy roads, and watching the weather network like its prime time TV.


So from T & I, we hope your holidays are wonderful and that the New Year brings nothing but good things.


See you in 2011!

#33. Perfect your AM Stretch

People – it is important to stretch, especially as you age. I’m learning the hard way EVERY time.

I never used to stretch, not even before a run, not after a run, and especially not when I got up in the morning.

The morning routine goes like this: Alarm goes off – hit snooze. Alarm goes off again, wake up T and roll out of bed into the bathroom, where I turn on Much Music or Much More Music (TV on counter) and proceed to perform a one woman dance/rap show to wake the hell up – all to T’s amusement. T has stated on several occasions “honey you are not, nor will ever be a white rapper’. Constructive criticism is a hard pill to swallow before my morning mocha.

Anyway, nowhere in there is stretching. And then this week it happened.

This song came on:



I thought multiple body rolls were appropriate. Body rolls learned in my Zumba class performed in a supervised fitness centre where certified fitness professionals are on standby. I rolled to one side; all is well, rolled to the other and felt both a crack and a sharp pain in my neck. Knowing T was watching I turned off the TV and exited the bathroom – no need to give him ammo. I proceeded outside to shovel the driveway shaking off the neck pains, you know because I’m young, they’ll pass.

I get in the car to drive to work, turn my head to the right – excellent, turn my head to the left, excruciating pain while I feel something pull in my upper back. My mind automatically goes to those icy-hot or A535 commercials showing flaming back muscles that I never understood, and I contemplate being late for work to pick some up, but decide to suffer through. My actual thought process went ‘I do have time, but then I couldn’t get my mocha, hmmmmm, and if I applied it while at work I’d smell like an old person, so....., no, suck it up and suffer’.

So here I am suffering – 2 days later. Anyone approaches my desk from the left and the chair swivels -no turning of the actual head. But if T asks, the story is I slept on it weird.

Do your stretches people.






*I chose this pic for the muscles :)

½ Way.

Today I'm 29 and a ½! I am now closer to 30, than 29. I’d like to say that the closer I get the better I am with accepting the reality of it, but that’s probably just the remnants of last night’s alcoholic beverages calming the nerves.

I think what’s also helping is the fact that I don’t feel older. It’s not like I’ll wake up and life will be different, old age just trickles in so slowly you don’t know it’s hitting you. Some things I have noticed (and not just in the last 6 months), are more wine headaches, zero tolerance for anything that seems to waste time, complete dislike for reality television, and a desire to have everything done.yesterday.

What I find odd (as friends speak of this), is that there is no noise coming from my biological clock. No tick, no peep, just complete silence. This makes me question a few things and wonder if it will ever tick? If anyone ever asks about me having children the answer is always ‘maybe next year?’ I have compiled a crib list (things to accomplish before baby), and it seems to get longer and longer. All those things I wanted to do when I grew up still haven’t been done.

When I was little my parents had the answer to every question I asked (and often still do), and I don’t think I have all the answers yet, and find myself still asking questions. I know we can ‘Google’ something at any moment, but it just isn’t the same.

I don’t want to grow up. In the last week I’ve eaten movie theatre popcorn for dinner, started the first Mario Galaxy game from the start to see if I can beat it, spent a night and day with University students (and kept up), and today I have zero plans of getting out of my pj’s the entire day. I’m doing all the things I dreamed of doing in my early twenties, but couldn’t afford to.

Another thing that completely freaks me out is that when my mom turned 30, I turned 7. I remember it. I now remember my mom at the age at which I am at. Something about that frightens me.

I have accomplished 49 of the 101 things, which is a good feat for ½ way, however I’ll have to kick it up a notch. I’ve basically been just living life and fitting them in where they occur naturally, but that’s getting hard.

It’s all making me look at things a little closer, and question things a lot more, and determine what needs improvement or change. I’m not where I thought I would be with 6 months to age 30, but progress is definitely being made.

#94. Cry Often

It all started with




And went downhill from there. Animals are my weak spot. Most people watch baby food & diaper commercials and go ‘oohhh’ and ‘ahhh’ at the babies, where I’m that way for kibbles & bits or those white kitten toilet paper commercials – they get me every time. Or, how about those adorable polar bear and penguin coke commercials for winter?

How could you have possibly watched the Nissan commercial and not went ‘awwwwww’?!

Recently I’ve had some spare time on my hands with unused vacation days being taken every Friday this month so I’m catching tv I wouldn’t normally watch on Friday nights as I tend to stay in the city after work until the wee hours of the morning.

Anyway, flicking through channels I come across a show on CMT (Country Music Television?) called ‘ER Vets: 24/7 Animal Trauma Centre’. It’s narrated by Jann Arden, and if you’ve ever heard her sing ‘Insensitive’ her voice just rips your heart from your chest, tosses it over the Grand Canyon and then steam rolls the remains. My eyes didn’t just water, or possibly shed a single tear, I all out ugly cried for a sold half hour THROUGH commercial breaks. I should probably not ever watch this show again for my emotional wellbeing, but you know what? I set the PVR, and even recorded the show before it called ‘Pet Heroes’ as if I want the torture!

When T used to travel, I’d drive him to the local airport, help him get his bags from the trunk, give him a hug and kiss and then cry until I was about 5km’s away from the airport. T leaving this time was taking the car and driving to a larger airport so you would think that I’d be fine? Nope. I helped him carry his bags to the entry way, told him I’d see him in 3 days (he’s home over the American thanksgiving), and then listened to the garage door close from inside and then cried. He’s only gone 3 days this week, but still, the house seems so empty.

I guess I’ll go watch all that quality tv programming I’ve pvr’d until my tear ducts malfunction in defeat.

#85. Be a Dork

Often at work the discussions with co-workers become about books we are reading. A review in the paper on a book, or merely having one sticking out of your purse is enough to start a conversation about all things related to that book. Yesterday a co-worker showed up with a bag of books for another co-worker to borrow and a light went off. What about a company book exchange? We have approx. 50 female office workers within the company and a large portion of them read. So why not join my love for organization, reading, and saving money and create a company book exchange? It’s the perfect idea, and did I mention it looks good from an employer’s view also as company involvement. It won’t cost them a dime, except for a file located on a public drive, and maybe a book in a weekly pre-existing courier, and will increase employee morale.


So if this wasn’t being a big enough dork, I debated if I should set up the book exchange as an excel workbook, or an access database? Should I have one listing of all books, or alphabetical sheets for authors, which feed from individual employee book list sheets? Should it be color coded by employee? Yes, I’m THAT big of a dork, these were my thoughts on the drive to work today, that when I put the idea forward to my boss with shear enthusiasm and excitement it was automatically approved. Now I’m just gathering troops in my office to put together a list of their books at home and submit them to me. Sure it’s more work for me, but at least I’ll enjoy what I’m working on.

To disprove entire dork association with myself I will tell you of an embarrassing story - as I like to do this. While out on a run this week I ran by two boys outside playing with light savers – this is what I thought they were called. When re-telling the story within a group I was corrected as to the correct term - light sabre. “You know as in the Buffalo Sabres and their logo as sword type objects” – I always thought Sabres were a type of Buffalo, and had no clue what actual Buffalo Bill’s where? Some type of western villain? BLONDE moment. I also can’t tell you if a light sabre is from Star Wars or Star Trek? I’m not that kind of dork.

#28 Claim your granny panties & #40 Invest in seriously frivolous undies

I opened my underwear drawer last night to discover I have 44 pairs of underwear. I could not do laundry and still have clean underwear for a month and a half! Of course there is themed underwear for Christmas (thong that has a bell that is not work appropriate), football Sunday underwear that has cute blue and pink footballs on them, and every other kind in between. Of course there are my favourites that are at the top and underwear that I say will never be worn again – but yet are still there known as the ‘granny panties’. The elastic is gone in them and they are not at all sexy, but they maintain drawer space for who knows what reason? So last night they were tossed. Screw granny panties, I’ll wear them in 40 years (yes that would make me 69) when I should technically be a granny.


I just remembered a story about the football panties I think I should share so that you can all share in my embarrassing moments with me. I had just started a new job and after my first day discovered that people here dress up all fancy every day – I’m talking skirts, heels, earrings, etc. Coming from automotive where jeans & a hoody would suffice I told T I needed to ‘girl it up’. So out I pull a skirt that I hadn’t worn in say 5 years that I would consider dressy and I put together an outfit for the next morning. At this point I was working two jobs – 6am-8am still in automotive, and 8:30-5 at the new job, so I was getting up and dressed in the dark, and this was my first week. I get up, dressed, go to my first job; get to my second job where I feel a bit of a breeze. I head to the bathroom to discover that the slit of the skirt is putting my football Sunday underwear (worn for comfort that day) on display for everyone to see. I rush home on my lunch and sew the slit to avoid any further embarrassments and back to work I go. End of the day I rush home to get changed to go for a walk with a friend and as I’m telling her this story while changing I discover I hadn’t put a bra on that day either. The ENTIRE day, and I’m not talking about size B here, I’m a D – I still can’t figure out how this all happened, but I’m pretty sure the entire office probably thought I was a hoe – excellent first week impression.

As for investing in frivolous undies, you can’t get more frivolous then what I already own – unless you go maybe a zebra or leopard print or something, but in most cases the less fabric to get all up in your business the better. So what I’ve decided to do is become matchy-matchy with bras & panties. I have a few sets but coordinating them for the same day never happens, so I’m going to make sure I have enough sets so that it can. I’ve just bought 2 sets for a total of 4 that I have, but ideally I’d like at least 7 – so more shopping! Who is going to see & appreciate this? Probably only me, but I’ll feel great and if I’m ever hit by a bus I won’t be embarrassed by my undies

#60. Do it somewhere risky

Does a new neighbourhood on the edge of the city that doesn’t have street lights yet in 3 degree weather count? DONE.


And a new rule put in place – no booty unless it’s at least 5+ degrees

#3. Grow Something

About a year ago T & I bought a house. We, I wanted a backyard that didn’t back onto any other neighbours, and a garage – because I grew tired of cleaning snow off of my car in the winter. When I walked into the backyard I fell in love with The Tree. The Tree was huge, birds, squirrels, and chipmunks frequented the tree, and it provided so much shade to our back deck. I loved the tree.

Turns out the tree was dead. We didn’t learn this until we had bought the house and were raking the tree’s leaves when a neighbour came over and pointed out that the entire back half of the tree was hollow. How horrible could that really be? I mean the front of the tree that we see from the house looks alive – all is good right?

It was decided that the tree needed to come down, before it fell down and took out our house/fence/neighbours house etc. So in the spring I called around for some quotes. The first one came in at $2500!!! Insane – it’s a tree – the company said it was unsafe to climb as it was half hollow, and they would have to use chainsaws on poles. I should mention that you can’t get a truck into our back yard.

Anyway, I decided another quote was necessary - $1600, but that’s leaving all the wood behind that I would have to find someone to cut up and haul away, or $2000 to take the wood. At this point the rage is building – it’s a f#*king tree!!! Give me a chainsaw – wait, don’t do that, only bad things can happen.

I put off bringing the tree down; it’s just too damn expensive and besides all those little critters will lose their homes. I waited and waited for some wind storm or a bolt of lightening to bring it down for us – that’s what we have insurance for. I could use a new roof or a redesign of the back deck!! But as I can’t control the weather (horrible reality for someone with control issues), the tree was still standing as storm season came to a close.

Sitting at work bitching about my tree and how much I’d prefer if the money could be spent on clothes, furniture, or a trip, a co-worker mentioned a guy – someone who had done tree work for her years ago, but he was good and cheap. Luckily that guy passed his business down to his son, and that son quoted me $1300 to bring down the tree and remove everything, except some mulch. Done and DONE. Get that tree out of here before I have to rake its leaves!!!

So now the tree is gone. Yes, I know there are many other trees in the ravine, but they are not my trees. I want my own tree. So it’s time to grow something.

This past Saturday after speaking with various tree experts, and watching all the colors of the trees in the ravine turn from green to yellow, I decided I wanted something with bright red leaves in the backyard, so off I went to the local nursery.

And there was my tree. 50% off, and only $5 to deliver!

He’s an Autumn Blaze Maple. I call him Woody (not sure if he resembles Harrelson or Allen more?), and this weekend I’ll be staking him so that he’s not harmed over the winter. He’s small now, but I’m looking forward to watching him grow over the years.

#31 – Find your religion.

Here is the customary note stating these are my thoughts/views and I don’t mean and/or will not try to offend anyone. Apologies in advance if you are offended.


I am a very opinionated person but strongly believe that opinions and discussions about religion or politics should just be avoided.

I’ll start by saying I am not a religious person, nor do I plan to become one. Living by specific rules or beliefs set out by any one religion does not interest me. However, I see good aspects of many different religions.

I will put out there that any religion that states that being gay or lesbian should be looked down upon is not a religion I will support, and I will not support politicians who share that view also.

And if you’re sitting there thinking I’m not religious because I wasn’t ever properly introduced to it - you are wrong. As a child I went every Sunday to church with my family and my mother was a Sunday school teacher. As a teen where the choice became mine, I no longer attended. T & I chose not to be married in a church, and chose not to bring religion into the ceremony – we were married by a marriage commissioner. If we didn’t practice any one religion throughout our relationship, why would we choose one just to be married? Our marriage was about the level of commitment that we required from each other before major investments, and possibly children.

I don’t do things 'half-ass', it’s not who I am. So in order to say I’m this religion or that religion, and then make concessions because of my lifestyle that don’t fit the ‘rules’ of that religion, I believe that’s 'half-assing 'it.

My morals and values I didn’t learn in a church. I learned from them from my surroundings, people I respected, and trial and error. I am angered by those who try to force their religion on others, or those that that take their religion to the extreme to the point of terrorism. And also those who are so close minded to believe that their religion can only be the‘correct’ religion and not respect the beliefs of others.

I guess today I am just angered by negativity towards homosexuality and the recent suicides of gay youth, who are being bullied – not only by other youths- with beliefs passed down by ignorant parents, but also by adults with close-minded opinions stemmed from religion. Every person has a right to be on this earth and have the same opportunities as anyone else. If you are going to be one of those ignorant people, do the world a favour and keep your mouth shut. The deaths were all unnecessary.

I accept all religions and do not judge people on their individual views, and would expect the same in return. It’s too bad more people aren’t like that, and everyone could just coexist.

#75. Collect correspondence with friends

I had every intention on sending out random ‘just because’ cards to all of my friends inviting them all to meet me individually when our schedules were open for a tea, coffee, or glass – who am I kidding, bottle of wine. But seriously folks, I just don’t have the time.


I’ve been feeling a little:



Lately. Mostly self-imposed, and a little overboard as here is the conversation between two people who correspond with me daily that I got brought into after they had determined I should be Santa.

From: Mary
Sent: Tuesday, October 05, 2010 10:27 AM
To: Cassondra
Subject: J9

Is freaking insane!!!! She just told us she was addressing Christmas cards last night. Seriously, we need to do an intervention!


From: Cassondra
Sent: October 5, 2010 10:28 AM
To: Mary
Subject: RE: J9

Oh, I went shopping in the States with her, we looked at every Christmas section.

From: Mary
Sent: Tuesday, October 05, 2010 10:31 AM
To: Cassondra
Subject: RE: J9

Shopping for Christmas stuff is one thing, addressing your cards in October is just nuts!!! Lol


From: Cassondra
Sent: October 5, 2010 10:33 AM
To: Mary
Subject: RE: J9

Yeah I know- she’s a little wacky but we love her.


From: Mary
Sent: Tuesday, October 05, 2010 10:35 AM
To: Cassondra
Subject: RE: J9

Yes, we do. We have to find a way to harness her powers for the benefit of all mankind!


From: Cassondra
Sent: October 5, 2010 10:47 AM
To: Mary
Subject: RE: J9

We could make her Santa Clause


From: Mary
Sent: October 5, 2010 10:48 AM
To: Cassondra
Subject: RE: J9

Knowing her, she could probably find a way to do a better job than Santa!


Yup, Crazy – that’s me. I also correspond with two other friends almost daily via email, as I don’t write letters or notes much anymore unless they are on a post-it.

The other emails sent today probably shouldn’t be published – it is a lot of ‘can you believe T did this’, and ‘did you see that?’, and ‘I can’t stand….’.

However, after the last post (that I emailed promptly to my best friend) I received:

From: kim
Sent: October 6, 2010 12:24 PM
To: J9
Subject: RE: Blog

Holy sappy batman...


actually made me tear up!



SUCKER :)

#12. Know your friends family tree

Ever become such good friends with someone their house becomes an open door policy – even if it is their parent’s house? At some points in your youth you saw their parents more than you saw your own? The phrase ‘run to the Hills’ is exactly what happened every time I was happy, sad, or needed to escape.


Once after saying goodbye to my high school boyfriend (he was moving away for university), instead of driving home and crying all night, I drove to my best friends as I knew it would be comforting, and entertaining, and they wouldn’t let me wallow in self-pity. I’m pretty sure I stayed a few days.

As I would never have to knock at their house (if I did, I’d probably be made fun of), I’d always wander through the garage where her dad would always be working on his air boat or lawn mower, or anything else mechanical. If he wasn’t in the garage you knew a Red Wings game had to be on, and there you could find him on the couch making ‘doo-doo-doo’ noises that could be heard clear across the neighbourhood. He was always smiling, and you couldn't help but be in a better mood around him.

Her mom would let us take over her kitchen at all times when we decided we needed to make taco dip or whatever else we wanted to make at all hours of the day/night. She always had a place for me at the dinner table, and didn’t bat an eye when I’d show up and stay for a few days. She would sit and listen to all of our crazy stories and roll her eyes at us, but always handed us the keys to a vehicle so we could keep going.

Her sisters (one older, one younger), aided in our adventures. One was very much Martha Stewart-ish, the other was a free spirit. The friends of the sisters somewhat overlapped so the house was often a popular place to be. Numerous nights of euchre in high school were played at their kitchen table. After my next major break up a few years later while living in TO, I again ran for the Hills – and ended up crying on the older sister’s couch. She gave me the support my best friend couldn’t due to distance, and helped me back up onto my feet again. Of course, I still ended up back on my best friends couch in the city I decided to move back to.

The extended family I have met over the years. Amazing fish frys at her grandparents, the chlorine in her aunt’s pool giving my hair a greenish tinge, and her uncle always at Tim Horton’s. I have heard stories from numerous family Christmas’ or weddings. When she mentions a relative I know exactly where they are and what part of the family they belong to.

You’ll notice that most of this is written past tense. It is only because my best friend and I haven’t lived in our home town for 10 years, so I only now maybe visit her parent’s house once per year, if even that. Life gets too busy, and there is never enough time. As much as I don’t see them anymore, I still feel very much a part of them as I get updates on them daily. And if life ever hands it to me and I’m back in my home town, I know I am always welcome to run to the Hills.

#82. Cultivate your own style

I recently took a trip to visit my younger brother where we went to a nice restaurant, an outdoor wine festival, and a pub, and let me tell you it took everything in me not to allow the ‘fashion victims’ to see the reaction on my face to what they were wearing. At one point I witnessed a guy (who had to be over 19 to be in the bar), wearing skinny jeans, sneakers, a loose plaid men’s work shirt and a backwards ball cap. At that point I messaged a friend and asked what the world is coming to if fashion sense is lost on our youth?


The ‘look’ made me cringe, and no look has ever gotten quite the reaction – is this me getting old?

Then, I glanced at the door and saw what appeared to be a girl squeezed into a men’s black sock. The dress was SO tiny her bits and pieces were hanging out & it was COLD that night. I motioned to my brother to look at what should be considered prostitution, and he educated me on the term ‘turtle dress’. Turtle dress what? Is what I was thinking – it’s because her snapper was hanging out. It disgusted me that this type of dress is so popular it has its own term. Really, what type of guy are these chicks trying to pick up? They live in that city to get a college or university education, so I’m thinking I need to go teach a class on ‘how not to look like a hoe’ 101.

Me being old again? I hope not.

Now except for my jeans and a solid colored fitted t-shirt phase where my sister referred to me as ‘plain jane’, I do think I somewhat pay attention to fashion. However, when I went into my closet to figure out what to wear to this ‘hang out with people 6-8 years younger than myself’ weekend, I had a hard time finding something that would do. I wanted to wear my new grey boots, but standing for hours at a festival, and a ½ hour walk home after the bar ruled those out. Next I think jeans, jeans are a safe bet. I went through what had to be 8 pairs and ended up wearing a pair I owned when I was 23. A fitted plaidish shirt (plaid is in), and a bench jacket, that was way too thin to be outdoors all night, oh and sketchers that are good for walking in – and as far as I know, I think I fit in. Well, maybe not compared to the turtle dresses, but that ship has sailed, aged, and capsized.

I would have to say my style is dressy, yet casual. I buy items that can crossover from work into nights out. I’m starting a boot collection in multiple colors for the winter, and I seem to have an addiction for jackets. I JUST bought this one from danier on my lunch:

You’ll rarely catch me in a dress, will always catch me in skirts, and never in red or pink (complexion won’t let it happen). I hate pantyhose, avoid panty lines at all costs, and never carry an umbrella – I don’t melt. 90% of the time you’ll find me done up, but on weekends I love jeans, sweaters, no makeup and ball caps. I go with the flow, and attempt to stay current, but who has the time?

What about you? How do you stay on top of things fashion wise? And how can we rid the world of these ‘turtle dresses’ and teach these young girls class & self respect?

#92. & #72. Tie a few knots & Sleep in a hammock.

T has always made fun of my knot tying abilities – but really why do I need such skills? I don’t own a boat that needs to be docked, or a dog that requires being tied to a tree. So other than my maybe once per year camping trip I never have to tie knots.


The same thing happens every year. We get to the campsite, steak out our trees and put up our hammocks – we each have our own hammock as we are not so good at sharing. Every year T comments about my knots and states that he is not lying in my hammock as it is unsafe. Do you think I consciously do this on purpose? YES. Because I always get the prime location, and I’m not sharing that either.

Please note that my hammock has never fallen, and I have spent hours in it reading.

On one trip we had and adjacent site to friends of ours who brought up a rather small dog. I was peacefully reading in my hammock when a daddy-long-legs landed on my face. That’s right – MY FACE. I whisked it off only to have it land on my arm. So of course I freaked out – there was jumping and screaming and clothes being torn off - of course pure entertainment for T and our friends. When I finally calmed down enough to explain to them what had actually happened (T hates spiders almost as much as I do) T feels something brush his leg. Of course he freaks out and kicks his leg, and ends up punting this poor small innocent dog half way across the campsite! It’s funny now, but at the time he had to apologize over and over and over for kicking their dog.

I now look for trees with a higher canopy so the chances of another spider attack is slim to none.

We camped at The Pinery Provincial Park a few weeks back and here are my excellent knots:

And as you can’t take a picture of yourself sleeping in a hammock – here I am as a kid. I had wandered off long enough for my parents to come looking.

#77. Memorize your favourite smells & surround yourself with them

Had to wait until now for this one as my absolute favourite smell on the planet is the smell of burning leaves. Odd I know, I never claimed normalcy. There is something about that smell that brings me back to my childhood and growing up on or around farms. It also helps that fall is my favourite season, so of course the smell would be associated.


My second favourite smell would probably be automobile exhaust (explains a lot doesn’t it?), and within automobiles, snowmobile exhaust to be precise. It reminds me of my dad and winters in Kincardine. I remember being pulled in my sled behind the snowmobile to get to elementary school – this must be where it all started.

It is hard to surround myself with these scents as one is seasonal and lighting up what little leaves we have in our yard would probably be frowned upon, and hanging out at gas stations tends to creep people out. There is a gas station on my way to work where the attendant looks like a younger George Clooney, I hang out there for as long as possible for two reasons!

If I have to pick a scent for candles & soaps in my house, I will usually choose a vanilla. However, I’m not really picky.

The smell I absolutely hate is the smell of the landfill that this stupid city decided to expand and take on trash from Toronto. While driving on either of the two major highways into or out of the city if the wind is blowing in the right direction it’ll turn your stomach. I’m not sure what politicians thought this was a good idea, as it’s not a ‘welcoming’ or ‘come back again’ smell – but I’m sure a few people’s pockets were lined.

Anyway, on a side note I'll share my favorite poem about the wonderfulness of burning leaves:

BURNING OF THE LEAVES

LAWRENCE BINYON

Now is the time for the burning of the leaves.

They go to the fire; the nostril pricks with smoke

Wandering slowly into a weeping mist.

Brittle and blotched, ragged and rotten sheaves!

A flame seizes the smouldering ruin and bites

On stubborn stalks that crackle as they resist.

The last hollyhock's fallen tower is dust;

All the spices of June are a bitter reek,

All the extravagant riches spent and mean.

All burns! The reddest rose is a ghost;

Sparks whirl up, to expire in the mist: the wild

Fingers of fire are making corruption clean.

Now is the time for stripping the spirit bare,

Time for the burning of days ended and done,

Idle solace of things that have gone before:

Rootless hope and fruitless desire are there;

Let them go to the fire, with never a look behind.

The world that was ours is a world that is ours no more.

They will come again, the leaf and the flower, to arise

From squalor of rottenness into the old splendour,

And magical scents to a wondering memory bring;

The same glory, to shine upon different eyes.

Earth cares for her own ruins, naught for ours.

Nothing is certain, only the certain spring

#90. Make a killer cocktail

Do you like raspberries? Do you like lemon? Do you like Vodka? Then I have a cocktail for you!

I was killing time in the lunchroom at work and came across a LCBO magazine with pages and pages of yummy alcoholic recipes- but the one that caught my eye happened to be non-alcoholic. I was pissed, who puts an eye grabbing picture and recipe for a non-alcoholic beverage on the back glossy cover of a magazine for liquor?! That’s prime ad space.., fine I get social responsibility and all that…, but come on, it looked so good. So I decided vodka would make the drink better.

Here is what you need:

1. 26er of Smirnoff Raspberry Vodka

2. Freshly squeezed lemon juice (if you’re being fancy) if not the bottled kind is fine.

3. Raspberry juice

I make these cocktails by the pitcher because it makes the whole process easier. One pitcher takes ½ the bottle of vodka, an entire bottle of raspberry juice, and squeezes of lemon juice (to your liking). Raspberry juice is incredibly hard to find but I have found a great one by SUN-RYPE.

There are tons of raspberry/cranberry concoctions, but to me they just don’t cut it. There is also raspberry juice frozen from a can which is equally as good and the cheaper choice– off the top of my head I’m thinking it's minute maid. Pour all of this into a pitcher with some ice and serve in whatever glass you prefer. You can make it fancier by adding fresh raspberries to each drink.

Now, I would love you show you all this concoction made up perfectly with beautiful pictures of it taken, but after ‘taste testing’ the batch you’re not really thinking about your camera – so you get these beautiful pictures of the batch (or 2) I made while camping. NOTE the amount of alcohol as you don’t taste it, but you sure as hell feel it the next morning :)

#21. Find the Perfect Red Lipstick

First let me tell you that I don’t wear lipstick ever. I don’t wear lip gloss; I don’t even use Chap Stick – unless I have to in the winter. I also am under the strong belief that red lipstick makes me look like a hooker. 

My cousin’s wedding is quickly approaching and my dress is black & white, so I figured I’d wear my red heels (yes I can pull those off), and that I’d find some red lipstick to top off the outfit. I’ve had the dress since May and figured lipstick couldn’t be that hard.

I looked for some kind of inspiration in other blondes that wear red lipstick – you know Gwen Stefani, or Scarlett Johansson, or Christina Aguilera. Scarlett goes so far as to say she uses red lipstick for therapy. I myself think wine, running, or shopping is therapy – but if it’s that good – I had to test it out for myself.

I am not frugal but I am against running out and buying every red lipstick available just to try it on, what does that leave me with – testers. Testers in drug stores, department stores, and grocery superstores. Where are all of those places? In Public. When you look like a hooker do you really want to be out in public?(unless of course you a first year university student) When you try on a red lipstick, look at yourself in the mirror and decide Bozo the clown can pull it off better than you can, you immediately wipe it off – only red lipstick stains. So the brightness is gone, but you now look like a hooker the next morning, or Courtney Love.

Did I mention family pictures are being taken at this wedding? Pictures that are going to be around and framed in family member’s homes – I know this because the last family picture taken 10+ years ago still haunts me. So if I’m going to pull off red lipstick I have to do it 10+ years of trends good until the next if ever picture is taken. That’s pressure.

So I get it all narrowed down, decide on a Revlon lipstick as when I’m only likely going to wear this lipstick once, maybe twice, I’m not spending an arm and a leg on it. I have it in my hand, I’m wandering the store waiting for a prescription to be filled before I can check out when I wander down the hair dye aisle and remember that I’m having my hair colored the night before the wedding, so it’s quite possible the lipstick won’t match.

Wasted hours and numerous appearances looking like a hooker for nothing, lipstick went back on the shelf, and I’m giving up. There is no way in a small town after 8pm on a Friday (when my hair appointment is over), that I will find the perfect red lipstick that will look good in a photograph for 10 years – impossible.

Another blogger posted pictures of herself as a blonde as a redhead and it gave me the guts to finally do it (while I’m still young). So instead of red lipstick, I’ll have red hair, and for the next 10 years when I look at the family picture I just might kick myself :)

#63. Be a nudist for a day (or a week sporadically)

I have the solution to ending the energy crisis. No more black outs or brown outs or smart meters. I’m currently putting together a promotional brochure advising everyone to go nude. If you think your house is warm, take off your clothes - it’s not. Do you have a basement? It’s basically Antarctica down there. Think turning on a fan is a good idea? Sure if you want every hair on your body to stand at attention! Also, unless you’ve got great window treatments – turning on the lights is not a good idea.

With my sister away last week on vacation (she lives with us), I discovered that I spent more time nude in my house than usual. You see – why put on clothes to run downstairs in the morning to put on coffee? and while you’re down there you end up feeding the cat, and then turning over the laundry, and maybe surfing the net? One thing leads to another and then you’re standing in your dining room picking out wine and you discover that the neighbours just got to know you really, really well.

T would love to come home every night, walk into the house, drop his pants at the front door, and wander around in his undies for the rest of the evening. This drives me crazy. I used to find his pants randomly all over the house, or a collection at the front door. However, he clued into the nakedness last week and did something far worse. Arriving at home late one night after playing ball hockey in insane heat he proceeded to remove his sweat drenched clothing in my living room and park his bare sweaty ass on my couch. Now luckily, I have wonderful furniture where the slip covers can be removed and put through the ‘sanitize’ cycle because febreeze was not going to cure that. Hence the new rule in our house – no nudity after sweating prior to having a shower.

There is a nude beach within an hour’s driving distance, and I thought I might get ballsy and attempt it. I figured out driving directions, found chats where I discovered I should strip at a stump before entering the beach area and that it is family friendly. I asked T if he’d go with me. NO. I didn’t want to go alone, and well I didn’t want to go with anyone else either. So, no nude beach for me.

I discovered a few things – sleeping, watching TV, internet surfing, and reading are all easily done nude. Getting the paper off the front step, answering the door when a neighbour stops by, and cooking anything in a frying pan are all very difficult. There was a lot of blanket wrapping. Also, don’t even attempt to iron – I’ve got a rather nice burn mark in an awkward place on my arm, which constantly rubs against clothing reminding me of my stupidity.

Going nude will reduce your cooling costs, save on laundry and clothing costs, and give you a sort of ‘free’ feeling. However, living with T, if I had heard “but you’re already naked” one more time, I probably could have pleaded temporary insanity and gotten away with it!

#101 - Bounce Back

When I tell you that I have had the week from hell, it is an understatement. At some point I must have pissed off a witch doctor, broken a mirror, or crossed a black cat – I never believed in superstitions until this week, and well, there is no other way to explain the non-existent luck that has been ALL mine.


Are you squeamish? SKIP this paragraph.

Remember the nightmare of the removal of the wisdom teeth where I discovered just how old I actually am? You would think that the experience was over and forgotten about, with it being months later.100% WRONG. I started feeling what felt like a tooth coming into where the wisdom tooth had been removed, and a sharp piece was pushing on the side of my gums, and it hurt like hell. So off to the dentist I went where not only was I given a needle, but I also got my gums cut open to expose the piece of bone that had fallen and the sharp edge shaved off because the piece was too big to be pulled out with pliers – YES, they tried, and I was awake for the entire ordeal.

Next came yesterday morning. I was on my way into work stopped at a light on a highway off ramp waiting to turn left. Well, the dumbnuts at the front of the group weren’t on the sensors so the light was not changing and cars were backed all the way down the ramp. Others decided to hop in the right hand turn lane and turn right then do a U-turn and head back as they didn’t want to sit there all morning. I look at the clock, realize I will be late for work if I wait longer, and decide to do the same thing. That was the most horrible decision EVER. The guy behind me pulls out, I follow him, and as we approach the intersection this jackass decides he should be in my lane, and cuts over about to side swipe my car, so I move to avoid him and hit the guy in front of me.

Like this: (as drawn for my co-workers)

The guy in front of me is a complete ass. He’s driving a Nissan Altima, and gets out of his car with a note pad, and demands my license and insurance info. I look at his bumper as we were driving all of 10 km’s an hour and my license plate has left a mark the length of the side of it, and that’s it. The guy is losing his mind stating that his entire bumper will have to be replaced and that his engine started making a noise when I bumped him. BULLSHIT. Now I know I’m a girl, and I have blonde hair, but I know enough to know that the engine is located in the front of the car, and that the mark on his bumper is nothing. However he’s a pompous ass who was acting like the world is coming to an end.

There is no damage to my car (Volkswagens are tanks), except for a turn signal bulb has burnt out. Easy enough right? WRONG. I go to Canadian Tire and tell them what I need and they hand me what looks right, I bring it to my mechanic, he pulls out the bulb and I have the wrong bulb. Back to Canadian Tire with the bulb I require in my hand. Do they carry it? No. I have to go to the dealership. So I call the dealership and they want to charge me an hour’s worth of labour to replace a light bulb and re-glue some rubber trim that is loose. I don’t think so. Guess who’s doing it all herself?

I call my insurance company to give them a heads up that a pompous ass will be calling about his bumper, and they tell me I need to go to the reporting station that is on the other side of the city – when there is nothing wrong with my car!!! So I do, I get there and am told because the accident happened on the off ramp and not on an actual city street I need the OPP which is located two seconds from my work. I end up at the OPP office where the officer is basically laughing at me for reporting it as he agrees with me that there is nothing wrong with my car. Then he proceeds to tell me that no charges will be laid. CHARGES?! WHAT THE HELL. I am only there because my insurance company requires it, not to turn myself in. F&*K this.

To add insult to injury on the way home from work the coffee that I didn’t get around to drinking or emptying spills all over the passenger seat. Then when brushing my teeth I re-open the gums that were JUST healing. This morning, I’m ironing in the nude (to be explained in a later entry), and I burn my arm.

I can’t win. My life hates me. But am I taking it lying down? Did I climb back into bed and pull the covers over my head? No. I’m bouncing back. I’m not letting anything else bad happen. It is finally Friday and I returned to the scene of the accident (which I will have to do daily), and felt fine. I drank my fresh roasted hazelnut vanilla coffee that I didn’t get to yesterday without spilling, and I’ve planned an amazing weekend for myself. Hello Mr.Brightside - wanna make out?

Bouncing back is not hard if you don’t give up on yourself. Now where is the booze?

#38 – Unplug your TV for a while.

As a kid home in the summers my father sounded like a broken record – “Shut off the TV and go outside”, or “Do you even know the sun is shining?” Our eyes would glance up from whatever talk show/soap opera/video game we were watching or playing and we’d give him a look as we didn’t believe his question justified a response.
What I would do to have those summers back! All that wasted time sitting starring at a screen when I could have been exploring, reading, taking up photography etc. I’ll go all cliché on you and say that if I only knew then what I know now, I would have seen and done so much more with my free time.

This summer I had a plan, a plan to catch up on series of television shows that people have told me were good. I was going to rent entire seasons and get caught up before the new fall season started and it hasn’t happened, and well face it – with August ½ over, I don’t have the time to accomplish such a large task. I can honestly tell you that the TV in our house has only been on once in oh say two months, and that was because I was forced to watch ‘The Bachelorette’ finale so I had something to discuss with my boss.

My summer has been all about reading. Am I turning into my mother, and further The Nana? Possibly. My list of summer reads grew longer and longer, and with a packed social calendar, the time to actually sit and read has grown shorter and shorter. I started the summer with Elizabeth Gilberts Eat Pray Love followed by her ‘Committed’. Next I went onto Emily Giffin’s ‘Heart of the Matter’, then Jennifer Weiner’s ‘Fly away home’ and now Elin Hilderbrand’s ‘The Castaways’. Next up I have Stieg Larsson’s trilogy of ‘The Girl’ series. Where in there is there time for TV?

With all that being said come fall with the new shows starting, I will be once again dedicating at least part of my time back in front of the television. I do long for lazy NFL Sundays spent entirely in front of the TV. I don’t however long for the end of summer.

Anyone reading anything good? I’ve got a beach vacation coming up and don’t it like when I can see the end of my ‘to read’ list.

Get a Manicure/Pedicure

So the word has gotten out. People who read this have finally stopped attempting any kind of awkward hug or touch with me. AWESOME. I actually got high-fived good-bye from my aunt which in my world is absolutely amazing.

I mean what is the point of physical touch with someone you’re not close with anyway? I get that a handshake is a friendly gesture – but really where has that hand been? People’s hands are weird. Sometimes they are hot and clammy which just makes you want to wash your hands immediately after, and sometimes they are cold and you wonder what they’ve just been up to. I would prefer to not take the risk of catching a flu bug, or pre-judge you by the temperature of your hand, and maybe just give you a friendly smile, or fist bump – if I like you.

Then there is hugging. I understand that if someone is sad a hug may be of some comfort and therefore I against my better judgement will partake in this – but only if forced. Most of the time it’s uncomfortable trying to figure out the strength of the squeeze or just how long you should hold the hug for. If I had my way a pat on the back or a hand on the shoulder would suffice for everyone. On radio programs in the morning you often hear of people giving out ‘free hugs’ downtown to make people’s day better – how does getting a hug from a complete stranger make anyone feel better?

Last week I was approaching a mall when an older man was approaching carrying a large box. His foot caught on the curb and he did a face plant directly in front of me in oncoming traffic. What do I do? I run to help him of course, but I couldn’t touch him. He had climbed to his knees and had the wind knocked out of him, but I didn’t know how he’d feel with a strangers hand on his shoulder or arm. So I just leaned in and spoke with him to make sure he was ok, retrieved his box, and helped him to his car. Was this the right thing to do?

Anyway I crossed the get a manicure/pedicure off my list, and let me tell you I love the results, but I hate the process. The manicure was not horribly awful except for being in such close quarters basically holding the hand of someone you do not know. I got a French manicure on my own nails and it looked lovely – except that the results only lasted maybe 2 days and I was constantly worried about the polish chipping – but what can you expect for $7.

Next onto the pedicure – ready to be grossed out? Remember that little run I did back in April? Well, this is what my running shoes did to my toenails:

Do you think I need new running shoes? The cosmetologist took off my existing nail polish and asked “you drop something on your feet?” I apologized, explained the situation and then went through the most agonizing 20 minutes of my feet being touched/scrubbed/massaged/clipped and then the toenails repainted, and now they look like this:

I don’t think I’ll pay $30 and put myself through this torture again, when I’m pretty sure with a hot bath and a $7 bottle of nail polish I can accomplish the same results.

#42. Take your hobby more seriously than your job

Is there anyone out there that gets up every day extremely happy to go into work?


I am not one of those people so it is extremely easy to focus more on outside hobbies than my job – often thinking about and/or planning outside activities is the only thing that gets me through my work day. Working in human resources I watch the constant struggle between work/life balance, and let me tell you that no job is worth not enjoying your life. No salary should prevent personal happiness. At the end of it all are you going to look back and say “I’m so happy I worked all those hours, and made all that money”? Or are you going to regret not spending more time doing the things you enjoy?

Do your hobbies relive stress? If yes, you definitely need to take them more seriously. Job stress has been linked to obesity, diabetes, and high blood pressure, which can cause liver or kidney disease or a stroke – just to name a few. Also, what stressed out person is really enjoyable to work with, therefore creating a hostile work environment for others?

Do you know that taking your beloved vacations can also stress you out more? I have read several news articles lately that state the aftermath of vacations leave employees sad that they are no longer on vacation, overly aware of how unhappy their current working status is, yet tied to their job to pay off said vacation. The anticipation of an upcoming vacation puts employees in a much greater mood, therefore creating a more enjoyable work environment. So if everyone could constantly be anticipating a vacation…..

Ok. Sorry I went all HR on your asses. It wasn’t deserved. I apologize.

You see blogging lately has become a hobby. Do I take it more seriously than my job? Kind of. My job has become non-challenging and non-rewarding, and as you already know, if I’m not challenged at things in my life, I’m more than likely not interested. I process tasks at warp speeds as it’s my nature and that leaves me with free time. Most people would not complain about this, but I am bored easily. I am stuck wanting a job that ends at 5 and that I don’t have to think about on weekends so that I can enjoy my outside life, but also a job that is challenging. I fill my time reading HR articles on current news and trends, attempting to make processes easier with excel spreadsheets and access databases, and of course blogging. I can honestly say I’ve spent more time blogging this week than doing actual work – so that is taking my hobby more seriously than my job. Also planning and completing the 101 things and blogging about them is far more interesting than my job!

As I would love to be paid to blog daily I do not see this happening without winning the lottery. So I must earn a living. I am very aware of the rut that I am in, and am working towards a solution as part of my current life changes. However, whatever path I take I will be sure to make sure that there is always time for my hobbies – as a person who lives at a stress level above most, stress-relief is very important. As a wise man once said:

The man who doesn't relax and hoot a few hoots voluntarily, now and then, is in great danger of hooting hoots and standing on his head for the edification of the pathologist and trained nurse, a little later on. ~Elbert Hubbard

#79 - Dub the soundtrack from your childhood.

I apologize if this post gets incredibly long, but I am a HUGE music fan, so this is incredibly hard. I have compiled lists, written and re-written this post, and finally have decided I’m just going to ramble. As I have favorite albums, or songs, or artists, that I can categorize etc, etc, but instead I’ll just go with songs that when I hear them they bring me back to a certain time or place. I’m also deeming childhood anything before marriage – however, I still haven’t grown up.


Tracy Chapman’s ‘Fast Car’. When I was a kid my dad had a ’72 Malibu Chevelle SS in mint condition that we would spend hours in the garage tinkering, cleaning, or polishing, and when this song came on the radio my dad knew the lyrics and would sing. My dad doesn’t sing. Then we’d take the car out for a drive and when it came on the radio the volume would be cranked, and the windows would go down, and my hair would fly in the wind.

The Tragically Hip‘s ‘Scared’.The first song I danced to with whom I refer to as my first love, or the first real long lasting relationship in high school. I asked him to dance, and a week later I called him to hang out. Ballsy, I know. The Tragically Hip was his favorite band, and when we were separating (he was older and going 7 hours away for university) he quoted this song in a letter.

Meredith Brooks’ ‘Bitch’. Oh boy, is it bad that I related to this song and most of Alanis Morissette’s ‘Jagged little pill’ album during the influential high school years? This could explain a lot. This song brings me back to the days of parties at Stacey’s where she and I somehow bonded over being bitches. Lovely!

Natalie Imbruglia’s ‘Torn’. I had just gotten my driver’s license and the drive out to the above boyfriend’s house was roughly 20 minutes along a river. This was sad, yet sounded happy and care free and didn’t allow me 20 minutes of being sad about his pending departure. Often when I’m home I’ll still do that drive just for fun as it’s very scenic.

Tegan and Sara’s ‘The First’. This is the song that I played repeatedly in my dorm room very loud, and on my CD disc man while riding public transit once I got to the bigger city. It was upbeat, catchy, and related to my new found independence.

The Counting Crow’s ‘Anna Begins’. Living with Chris I used to play this song repeatedly very loud while singing on my commute to and from work for the entire summer leading up to our end. I think the counting crows were putting my relationship status blatantly in my face, and maybe I knew it.

Sheryl Crow’s ‘I shall believe’. When the above relationship ended, I spent many late nights crying listening to this song. I hear this song and basically my heart stops beating and hits the floor for old time’s sake.

Whitney Houston’s ‘I Wanna Dance’. My best friend would kill me if I didn’t add this song. When my heart was on the floor with no hopes of recovery she and I would hold late night Whitney Houston ‘I wanna dance’ dance parties – she wasn’t always physically present – but on the phone or computer. When I accidentally walked into the wrong apartment one night I had to apologize to my hot-in-a-Tom-Selleck-but-hotter-kind-of-way neighbor A – for walking into his apartment & B – for keeping him up with the random Whitney Houston dance parties.

The Rolling Stones’ ‘Beast of Burden’. I hear this and I am right back to dancing in the middle of the afternoon in my one bedroom apartment in the dead of the summer in my early 20’s. I remember celebrating after receiving a phone call with a job offer a little too loudly to this song – getting my first noise complaint at 4pm on a Tuesday.

Louis Armstong’s ‘Wonderful World’. T had taken me to NY for a surprise second anniversary trip where he told me not to get my hopes up for a proposal, so I told him if that was the case, I wanted nothing romantic to happen that day. We grab seats on the subway heading to Central Park when an older gentleman steps into the car with a portable stereo and proceeds to sing this song. T did propose that day, and we used this song as our first dance at our wedding.

The Progues’ ‘Love You Till The End’. T & I ended our wedding reception with this song while dancing in the middle of all of our friends and family before we boarded the bus back to the cottage for a bonfire and fireworks. It was the perfect song to wrap up an amazing day.

So there you have it. This is by all means not my all-time favorite songs and/or artists and/or albums, but they relate to my life. I do love ALL kinds of music. Maybe after I complete the 101 things, I’ll explore a little more into music with the blog. For now, I’ve queued these all up on YouTube so I think I’ll sit and reminisce.

#41. Own Your Mistakes

Let me state I am not perfect. Nobody is perfect. As much as I am a perfectionist and equally stubborn, I am more than willing to own up to my fuck ups, once justified that they are indeed fuck ups – or learning experiences for those of you who are optimists.


Note. This is completely different than admitting I am wrong to T – regarding anything.

I have one gigantic life-altering, heart breaking, world shattering epic fuck up. His name was Chris. As much as I’d like to place blame for the entire ordeal on him, I can’t. I blame one thing, and one thing only – my heart. For those of you thinking listening to your heart is the way to go – you are all very, very wrong, and I’ll tell you why.

It’s my first year away from my very small home town and am attending university for psychology in a much larger city. I’m coming off a string of relationships that lasted a month and a half each (yes, I got bored precisely at the same point in every relationship). Anyway, a new place, new friends, and new guys to meet. I stay single the entire first semester (go me!), and end up kind of dating a guy I will refer to as ‘Dan the Italian Stallion.’ And by ‘kind-of’, I mean it was my attempt at a one night stand that went horribly wrong. Ok. I’ll tell you the story – as this is also a mistake.

It is now December and I’ve just finished writing my final exam before Christmas holidays. My father will be picking me up FIRST thing in the morning. It takes me approximately 9 minutes to get from the exam room to my residence room and put a beer in my hand. I have all intentions of getting ready for the bar, hopping in a cab and heading downtown to meet friends. This doesn’t happen. I have a few too many beers, stop in across the hall at a gathering of people where the “how you do’ in” line actually works on me. First mistake. Let’s just say after hours of talking, etc, etc, I wake up in the morning to discover my dad should be there already to get me. Second mistake – DTIS (Dan the Italian stallion) is still in my bed. I jump up run to the bathroom to discover mistake #3 – a hickey. I glance out the window to see my dad’s car pulling into the parking lot. Seriously, I wake DTIS up – throw his clothes at him and kick him out – he passes my dad in the hall!!! I quickly repack turtlenecks and head home for the holidays happy that the entire experience is behind me. WRONG.

A month later after school resumes my phone rings. It’s DTIS, he wants to cook me dinner. When I gave him the boot I had missed giving him his jacket so he had returned after I had left and someone gave him my #. We dated briefly, and when we split the girls decided a night out with the university’s drinking team was a good idea. NOT a good idea.

We get to the bar, and I am asked “Out of everyone in here who do you want to meet tonight?”, and I pick Chris out. Another bar and an entire pitcher drank by me; I walk up and tell him that he’s the only one I wanted to meet. Hook.Line.Sinker. We become inseparable. One problem – he’s in his last year and is moving back to his hometown – a rather large city, at the end of the semester. He’s everything I’ve imagined – educated, cute, humorous, thoughtful, and athletic – he had it all. My heart told me not to let him go. What can your heart know at age 20? Seriously.

So what do I decide to do? Follow him. I tell myself I don’t really want to be a psychologist; I’d prefer to be in business management as its fewer years in school and more years working. I convince myself that he is the one for me. The one I should marry. So I up and move after maybe 7 months of dating. I give up my friends, psychology, and my apartment – everything I was sure of. We attempt to live together while he works, and I go to school. He misses 'university life', I miss my life, we argue. You know how this ends –a year later I’m a puddle on the floor wondering what the hell happened? I remain a puddle while moving back to where I started attempting to recover. Attempting that took months of crying, and years of emotional walls that wouldn’t let anyone else in.

Did I learn from this mistake? Sure. Don’t listen to your heart; it fucks with your life.

#67 – Kick one Habit

Long time – no talk. Want to know why? I procrastinate.


I get in these funks that you can’t see coming and can’t predict when they’ll end, where my world comes to a screeching halt. Nothing is right in the world, nor will it ever be – so whatever attempt to fix it is just wasting your time during this period. I deem nothing worth doing, and it takes everything in my being to just be. I mope, I pout, I bitch, I scream, I cry.

And absolutely nothing gets done.

What’s that you wanted dinner? The dinner that I planned two weeks in advance and have all the groceries in the fridge ready to be used? Oh well, that’s nice. Not going to happen, I’ll get to that later – along with laundry, gardening, bill paying, and having adult conversations. Poor T, never knows when it’s going to hit and then looks at me as if I have a sign that reads BACK.AWAY.SLOWLY. flashing neon pink on my forehead. It’s kind of like a domestic strike – some women dream of this.

This latest funk I believe stemmed from the ‘I have no direction’ statement a few entries back. Could someone have just piped up and told me to do something about it? Yes, and they tried, but I was procrastinating about change so nothing would have happened until this morning.

This morning I had to bring some extra clothing with me to work as I’m heading to a concert straight from work and don’t think heels at an outdoor venue is the best option. So I grab a bag from the closet, but not just any bag, a Lululemon bag. I get to work, I get bored, and I start looking around and voila! Words of inspiration, and oh they didn’t tickle.

The first being ‘Your outlook on life is a direct reflection of how much you like yourself'. Really? This is not good. As stated above nothing is right, nor will it ever be.

Others include ‘Stress is related to 99% of all illnesses, ‘Breathe deeply & appreciate the moment! Living in the moment could be the meaning of life’, ‘The world is changing at such a rapid rate that waiting to implement changes will leave you two steps behind. Do it now! Do it now. Do it now!’

So, time for some change, and I’m not just going to think about change. I’m going to make some decisions, and make life a little more challenging and rewarding. Screw this holding pattern that is causing me major freak outs and possibly health issues. Procrastination is so over.

I’ve had this song on repeat all day as its motivating and seems like an appropriate theme song for these changes, and it helps that I’ll be seeing the band in roughly 2 hours.

In the 7 hours since I glanced at the bag I’ve decided I need a career change, to participate in the ‘run for the cure’, need to take up Yoga, and blog a whole hell of a lot more.

Anyone else out there up for some changes? I believe in strength in numbers!

#84. Forgive Your Parents

Doesn’t forgiving your parents usually entail a few months and a few hundred dollars paid to a shrink? I don’t think I need to partake in such an extremity as I find it difficult to find something to forgive them for.

Let me tell you about the people who created such a unique spawn, and maybe you’ll understand me a little more?

My father is the middle child of a family of 3 boys. He grew up on a farm, is a mechanic by trade (and hobby), works for Shell (the refinery), and loves to watch hockey and play golf. He is the strong, silent type – we often only hear my dad’s opinions through my mother. However, if you get him on the phone when no one is around you can’t get him to stop talking. He is very picky and opinionated. For instance he thinks that cars should not be any shade of pink, purple, or teal, and should not have bumper stickers and nothing should be hanging from the rear-view mirror. If a friend’s car had any of those features it could not be parked in the driveway. He also believes any flat surface should not be cluttered, and will often remove objects and put them places where no one would think of looking for them, just to get them off the counter. This drives my mother insane.

He loves to teach me everything he knows. I spent hours in the garage as a kid learning about greasing pistons, and replacing fan belts and wheel bearings. Now he teaches me about lawn maintenance and all the tools required. To receive an e-mail from him is priceless. He types with one finger – so to get an e-mail that is more than two sentences and has capitals and periods – you know it took him a lot of time to compose.

Where to start with my mother? She is the oldest of 5 girls, is educated as an ECE teacher, but is a librarian. Which I find unbelievable that she can be quiet for long periods of time as her personality and laugh are vibrant. She hates all things electronic as they continually get more difficult to operate. She doesn’t sit still (THIS is where I get it from); she has travelled to Haiti numerous times to work with orphans, and has an abundance of affection that she gives out freely. This could be why I have a big heart but don’t like being touched – because I was smothered as a child!

My mother & I’s relationship has its moments. I was born on her birthday making us both Gemini’s – so on any given day our multiple personalities conflict. Our opinions on various things differ and we are both very passionate arguers. This would not seem like a good relationship for most people, but for me, I love it. She challenges me, makes me think, and supports me even if our views are different. As much as we are different, and don’t resemble each other at all, we have identical facial expressions and hand gestures. I also get my ‘ugly cry’ from my mother. There is a picture floating around of the two of us on my wedding day partaking in an ‘ugly cry’ - but I will not post that so that we can both keep our pride. She will also kill me if I post a picture of her.

So what could I forgive them for?

My father does not show affection. Not once have I heard ‘I love you’ from him – but I’m perfectly ok with that because I inherited that trait, and you rarely hear it from me. He shows everyone he loves them without words. I remember childhood Christmas’ where there would be surprise family gifts under the tree that even my mother didn’t know about. You know the wedding ugly cry with my mother mentioned above – well it was because my dad replaced all my fake wedding jewellery with real jewellery without letting either of us know. When T was away on business my dad drove an hour and a half to my house to cut my grass for me. So I forgive him for not showing affection, I prefer it that way.

My mother has always set the bar high. “Hey Mom, I got an A on a project” was answered with “Good, but so-and-so got an A+”, or “Mom, I’ve lost 40lbs”, and get a “Good, but so-and-so who’s going through a divorce right now lost 65!” There is always a ‘but’. This also isn’t such a bad thing. It makes me want to succeed just to show her I can which makes me a better person. I remember telling my mother shortly after getting my business management diploma that I was going to apply for a position to manage a golf course. I had worked in the golf industry for my summers throughout college as everything from beer cart girl to grounds crew so I felt I was qualified. I don’t remember her exact words, but I know she was doubtful, and it only made me put that much more into the cover letter and interview eventually getting the job. I have always felt that she thinks I can do more and be more. She came with my dad the day he came to cut my grass. I had just gotten home from work and was tidying the garage when they got there so I offered to let her into the air conditioning. Somewhere between unlocking the door and walking to the kitchen she started crying and said “My baby girl is all grown up and she’s so beautiful, you are so beautiful”. I had never heard that from her and it was everything I could do not to cry.

Now, I’m not going to get all sappy because that’s not how I roll. But honestly, my parents are awesome, and I wouldn’t want them to be any different. I am who I am because of them, and I appreciate what they’ve done for me. I need not forgive them for anything.