Friday, December 10, 2010

42 minutes

Yah, it's been awhile. I've been busy. Ya know, running marathons (okay, one), buying a new house, planning a wedding - it takes its toll on a girl!

So here's the sitch - in 42 minutes it's my wedding day.
Holy effing Christ. (apologies to the holies)

I kind of can't believe it's here already. When I read back over the early days and remember all of the things that I was SO adamant about, I realize that all of those things have gone down the shitter.
My dress - I wanted long sleeves, lace with an old-school vibe. When the wedding is done I'll show you a pic, but suffice it to say, it ain't any of that.
Something old - was really hoping to wear a mink that belonged to my grandmother. Apparently it was destroyed in a freak flood several years ago and I had no idea. Zoinks.
Champagne - I know this is weird, but I've always had this image of drinking champagne from those old-timey wide champagne glasses. Like the kind that people use in champagne towers? Ya know? Well anyway, it's not happening.

All things being considered though - NONE of this matters. Because you know what hasn't changed? The fact that I'm marrying probably the most wonderful man that I've ever had the pleasure of knowing (it's okay to say that, my Dad doesn't read this).  So I could wake up tomorrow drinking swill from a paper cup, wearing a hideous marshmallow dress and all would be right with the world. 

But for serious - my dress is stinking gorgeous.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Kicking Alzheimer's in the Armpit

I'm not certain why but lately my brain seems to be leaking from my ears. Okay, not literally. But I've been scattered, forgetful, misplacing things and losing everyday items. Sometimes it's the cats fault (that bastard) but usually it just seems to be the slow disintegration of my grey matter - which leads me to the Big A.
Alzheimer's.
It's a pretty big fear of mine and not just because my great grandmother started eating the peels of bananas and throwing away the fruit (an image burned on my brain). I mean c'mon HAVE YOU SEEN THE NOTEBOOK? That shit is serious and it makes you forget about making out with Ryan Gosling!

Action must be taken. I started doing the usual things like eating more salmon and bumping up my Omega 3s. Then I started looking for alternatives to my antiperspirant - hailed for years as the poisonous brain balm that I wipe on my 'pits. Something something too much aluminum. Apparently the Whole Foods versions smell like dirty hippies and do very little to contain ones natural stank.

Then lo and behold I was introduced to the following: Deodorant Cream. It was reviewed by a cooking blogger that I follow and she claimed that her armpits had never smelled better. I was intrigued and ordered up a container. The cream is made by a woman in Brooklyn who runs a shop named Soapwalla. She has quite a story, read her blog if you're interested. .
When the cream arrived I was excited, it smelled like my idea of heaven - lavendar, mint and tea tree heaven. I have to admit that rubbing it on is a bit weird to me, but probably just as weird as rubbing something on my arsehole would be. It's not a place that I've often rubbed a product and so it's a little strange. Not in a "aww sick, I gotta wash my finger" kind of way, just a "huh, so that's the texture of my armpit" type of thing. No biggie, I'm over it.

Anyhoo, I've been wearing it for about a month and have put it through every test possible. Biking to and from work, working all day, spin class, booty camp, pilates, wedding planning, in-law relations - nothing has broken through this puppy yet.

Suffice it to say, if you're near me and you smell B.O. - it's the guy next to me, my pits are golden.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Wedding Wednesday: The Dress!

There have been very few stressful decisions so far into our wedding planning. The time, place, wedding party and budget all fell into place rather quickly and painlessly. So I was due for a little nail biting and suffering when it came time to choose my dress. Let's be clear here - I love to shop. I am merciless, objective, efficient and realistic about my body. I can usually make it through the entire Eaton's Centre hitting five shops and one department store. I know what I like, I know what looks good on me and I know what I can afford. Unfortunately Banana Republic hasn't started making bridal gowns yet...or maybe I should say fortunately.

It's not that I wanted a simple and cheap dress, I just wanted something that was ME. And the ME that I know is none of the following: sequins, tiny pearls, ruffles, hoop skirts, crinoline, puffy sleeves or snow white satin. Nope, not me. Which is not to say that I won't like those things on YOU. But it takes a special gal to make some of those things work, and frankly I am not that special .

It took a total of five trips to four shops which included Beckers Bridal on the Danforth, Ritche on Avenue, Le-Ann Belter on Queen East, The Room at The Bay and then back to Beckers for the final reveal :) Thankfully my three best friends, Aunt and Mother are all still speaking to me after all of this bruhaha. It's a very surreal experience to put on a wedding dress and it kind of fucks with your mind. I swear that dupioni silk has hallucinogenic properties. Suddenly you start thinking that an eight foot train isn't that unreasonable, or that a belt of rhinestones is totally worth $350 or that the swan wrapped around your midsection is rather flattering. no, No and NO!

In the end I chose four dresses and took my mother and friend to see them. They chose the wrong one. Which was great because then I realized how much I wanted the one they didn't choose! They saw it my way eventually, we all shed tears and now it's all done. It's being made in Paris (ooh la la!) and will be here in five months! It's like waiting for a beautiful, silky, very premature baby! And I'm gonna love that baby sick.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Read it - Flow (the cultural history of menstruation)

I've always had a strange fascination with books that document old-timey contraptions, especially when it comes to women's health. I think this partly stems from a desire to feel good about the age I live in - a sort of "hey, we don't have it so bad!" pat on the back. But also I like to shake my head and tsk tsk all the stupid medical and religious decisions that basically shit on us gals. Oh you silly men, using vibrating belts to help cure us of hysteria and pouring lysol in our vagina's to make us more desirable to our husbands.
Yah - you heard me right. [ugh...shiver]

This book was absolutely 100% fascinating and I recommend it to anyone. You might think that as a lady who has been experiencing her "lady times" for over 20 years that there would be nothing left to learn. Sadly, you would be wrong. In grade five they pulled all the boys out of class (to go have the boner discussion presumably) and played all the girls a movie made by Tampax. Well I was sick that day (probably faking), so I got to take the movie home and watch it with my mother and her best friend. They just happened to be having a ladies cocktail hour after school that day - which made the experience of the menstruation video even more enjoyable...for them. There was much chatter about the old days when they had to strap on "the belt" during their "curse". I was totally lost and began to think that if a belt was involved perhaps the belly button was too? Even more worrisome - how was I going to go to the bathroom when I was all plugged up by a tampon? Anatomy was not my strongest point.

So even after years of experiencing a period I still really had no idea what was going on inside my body. Where were these alleged eggs? Did it really look like the beginning of the movie "Look who's talking" in there? Why on the Thursday before my period did it feel like someone had taken the beats to my boobs?
No idea.
And even if I did have an idea the author of the book claims that any female on contraceptives only has a "phony baloney period". Screw you lady. Walks and talks like a period and that's enough for me.

There's plenty of cool, amusing and downright scary vintage ads throughout the book demonstrating all the various ways that women have been encouraged to hide or deal with the embarrassment of their bodies.
 
Most of the ads from the 1950's seem to be aimed at shaming young wives into believing that their husbands believe they are filthy and therefore they cannot be loved. That shit is GRIM. Where's Peggy Olsen when you need her!?



What's amazing about most of the ads is the way that they address the topic - they never actually use the word period. In fact, it wasn't until 1985 when Courtney Cox was the very first person to use that word in a television commercial. Way to go Monica!!






All in all a really great book on what most would consider to be a rather gruesome topic. Read it, love it, then strap a belt on it.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Sky (Ani)Mall!

In this months edition of "I'm bored on a plane and sitting next to an obese person and can't wedge my laptop out of it's crevice" - I got lost in the Sky Mall mag. Not familiar with this Pulitzer Prize winner of the sky? Well it's kind of like a mix between the Sears Christmas catalogue and Mad magazine. It's every single bad idea ever thought up by your uncle who thinks he can invent amazing things (usually after five or six beers). Now I get a kick out of vibrating socks and voice activated golf balls as much as the next gal - but what I REALLY love about Sky Mall is the shit they do with animals.

Exhibit A: Bad animals with adorable faces.


Clearly these animals have used their powers of cuteness to seduce a small child and then mercilessly rip his/her face to shreds. Either that or they've been caught stealing sips from their mothers blueberry schnapps. IMPRISONMENT!


Exhibit B: Dead animals make the best models

This theory was posed by my bf and has ruined several years of Classic Cats calendars for me. But c'mon, you've got to admit - there is no way that anyone managed to get a collie to lay still long enough to capture this shot. Therefore - dead collie.

Exhibit C: Sweet faced puppies can sell anything

I don't want to conceive of the day where I will live with dogs so small that they can't climb onto a goddamn couch - but these puppies can make a woman do unthinkable things. In my mind I've already starting writing an elaborate story along the theme of the cinematic classic "Stepmom". In this scenario the dog lying down is Susan Sarandon and the bitch climbing the stairs is Julia Roberts. There will be snuggling, there will be a heart-wrenching duet of "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" and there will be ass licking.

Exhibit D: Cats will always make you look like the asshole

These cats are WAY too cool for school. Not only do they make the inventor look like an asshole for coming up with these ideas but they SHAME you for even considering their purchase. SHAME!! I mean really - that cat on the toilet is giving you some serious smack talk right now. Turn the page, just look away.

Exhibit E: Fake animals judge no one

In the end it seems more reasonable to turn to fake animals for solace. And who wouldn't be warmed by the site of Harry Henderson's sasquatch or our favorite family of anthropomorphized meerkats?

Exhibit F: Although....

This little bitch just stole my soul.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

"You're too late - I already killed her"

Last night I went to a strangers house to try on wedding dresses. Random, I know. I found these two gorgeous Vera Wang dresses on Craigslist and they were cheap cheap cheap! So, I couldn't resist.

I told the bf that if I were to be killed on this mission that at least he'd have a really good story to tell at his next wedding.

He wasn't amused.

yadda yadda yadda, the dresses didn't fit. blah blah blah i didn't die.
good story.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The Cult of Cutrone


Last night I dragged my tired post-daylight savings time butt over to the Eaton's Centre to catch a glimpse and hear the spastic wisdom of Kelly Cutrone. For those of you blinded to the lure of such trash tv as The Hills and The City - you may not know who she is. Fortunately throngs of stiletto-heeled women and well-dressed gay men do and hence her book signing and interview were very well attended.

It is my belief that the character played by Margaret Cho in Sex and the City is based on Cutrone. Discuss.



She was shilling her new pamphlet  book instructing young women and gays (her words) in the ways of life and business. The book outlines some rules for success which I have to say - are brilliant if not a little common sensical. Her first rule and book title - If you have to cry, go outside.
Young women of the world - WRITE THIS DOWN! And no, not on your hands.
The most uncomfortable of work situations occur when someone has done something wrong, is chastised and then starts to cry. Ugh, so manipulative! I have cried at work exactly three times (yes, I remember them each distinctly). All hidden within the walls of my office or private bathroom stall. No one needs to see a swollen, crying face and being comforted for not doing your job isn't in anyone's job description. Way harsh? Maybe, but for anyone who works with students or young women this advice is TOTALLY, COMPLETELY and UTTERLY necessary.

She also has some pretty salient advice on "giving good phone". Basically when to use the phone instead of using virtual communication. This one is going to be lost on most ears and I think is the most difficult to impart. Hell, even my own bf is a telephone rejector and usually REFUSES to answer a ring tone at home. Only an IM or TM ping gets his attention. But for people in the workforce it is often much easier to pick up a phone than to send multiple passive-aggressive messages consisting of "Did you read my email yet?". C'mon people, can't we all just communicate?

It was a very entertaining evening and while I think Jeannie is best suited to the fast-paced, quick, backstage interviews - she did manage to keep things flowing along. Kelly had many stories about her fabulous life but tended to fall into glamorizing her past drug habits and promiscuous activities, perhaps not the best stories for a predominantly underage audience.



She wrapped up with some excellent Oprah-esque advice - that everyone needs to take the time to figure out who they are and that using celebrities (herself included) as inspiration is much healthier than trying to replicate anyone. She advises using your inner voice to guide you, to never listen to people trying to keep you down and to go balls out on intuition. That's right - balls out.
My favorite soundbite: You shouldn't give birth to a child until you've given birth to yourself.
Let's take a minute to soak in that wisdom.

Alright, time to shake off the after-birth and get back to work.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Wedding Wednesday: How to bag him

Given the message of this ad - I don't HOW it's possible that I'm getting married. In fact just this morning I said to my beloved "Has my morning breath ever made you wanna throw up?". Because in fact it has made ME wanna throw up. He responded appropriately indicating that lilies and roses sprout up from my oral cavity whilst I sleep.
No wonder I love him - because he LIES so well.


Tuesday, March 09, 2010

READ IT: Born to Run

I read this book by Christopher McDougall in January when I was starting to plan out my race schedule for the year - and I picked it up not a minute too soon. I have to admit that following my October marathon I was feeling a bit burned out. I wasn't injured or anything, I just couldn't seem to force myself outside for a run. All the things that I'd been missing out on while training (sleeping, drinking, Sunday window shopping trips) were now consuming my life in abundance.
It took this book to kick my ass back to the road.
And it didn't do it in a preachy, "if you don't run you'll be a fat lard and no one will like you" kind of way. Rather, it kind of made me fall back in love with running for fun. Cheese, but whatever. During my training I was a slave to my stopwatch. I ran with long, involved audio books to take my mind of the arduous hours of running by myself. Like a good librarian I recorded every single detail about my run into an elaborate spreadsheet. It was all too much! Since reading this book I really have focused more on the act of running - my posture, my foot strike, the feeling in my legs, the exhilaration of going really fast - just tuning into my body and turning off my iPod have made a huge difference to how much I like running. Not that I still don't have off days, because I do. But now I don't let them ground me for weeks at a time. 

McDougall writes about running like a poet. The story focuses on the running traditions of a Mexican tribe known as the Tarahumara. An isolated tribe known for running barefoot or with very rudimentary footwear, they are superfantastic ultra-runners with a running style that somehow makes them impervious to injury. He goes pretty indepth into their nutrition and in particular into their consumption of the miraculous chia seed. I of course, was sold immediately and ran out to Noah's to buy a pack. But that's a story for another day.

He also has a rather lengthy and interesting conspiracy theory about the running shoe industry. In particular the evil Nike. He's rather convincing in his arguments for barefoot running and while I still love my Brooks I am willing to concede that sometimes running on a cloud of cushioning isn't necessarily the best thing for the body.  One of the ultra runners in the book runs wearing a pair of Vibram Five Fingers (shown here) - they look freaking weird but people that wear them swear by them. I just saw a guy wearing them this past weekend in a half-marathon I ran. He passed me. Quickly. They may warrant more investigating.

This book was an excellent story, I tore through it within a few days and would highly recommend it as a motivational read. McDougall introduces several hilarious characters of ultra running. He tours us through ultra races around the country and to the (sometimes filthy) habits of their participants. But let's just face facts here - among stories of long distance running there is always going to be graphic discussion of inopportune bowel explosions. Not your bag? Yah, then put this book back on the shelf.

Monday, March 08, 2010

February's child gets a rodent shaped birthday cake

Yes - I'm aware, I've been absent from this space of the internets. Forgive me and call off the dogs. I attribute this absence to a few things: 
1. February sucks. I was uninspired and lacking in anything of interest to say. I can hear you now saying "What else is new?'. And to that I say - Shut your mouth.
2. Mild depression. Nothing involving pretty little pills or spiraling into a bottle. No no, this was more of a TLC, homemade cupcakes and really comfy couch type of situation.
3. Absence of the bf. He had a big work project out west...you may have heard of it...a little project known as THE OLYMPICS? ring any bells? Anyway, yes I was very proud. And also very, very, extremely, absolutely and devastatingly lonely for exactly 39 days. The cat was no substitute for conversation or snuggling.

This is not to say that the entire month was a waste of a calendar page - I did manage to celebrate my 33rd birthday in style. And in this case style consisted of champagnesque beverages, karaoke, friends and red velvet cake!

Here's a cross-section photo of the cake so that you can see the delicious detail of layer after luscious red-velvet layer and the massive amounts of finger-licking buttercream icing. Oh gawd, I could die. It was SO good. And the best part was that someone else made it.

Big ups to my Bridesman Derek for creating this masterpiece for me. I had originally requested a cake resembling the grooms cake in the movie "Steel Magnolias". Some of you may recall that this was also of the red-velvet variety but was cut into the shape of an armadillo - of the roadkill variety. I thought this was appropriate given that I was born on a day dedicated to the nation-wide stalking of a rodent known as a groundhog. Damn that dastardly dweller of the dirt!

All in all, I'm glad those 28 days of darkness are over. Time to enter the month of lions and lambs.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Update: A woman's right to shoes

Update on the purging front: took 25 pairs of shoes to the Ron White Shoe Drive. As hard as it was (and trust me, it was like taking smarties off a fat kid) I am now purged of excess shoes. Okay okay, I kept a few of the more expensive pairs but only so that I can hopefully sell them on eBay and make a few bucks off my sloth and excess.

I added it up and all these shoes cost just over $1000, the majority of which have been worn fewer than 5 times. [Shaking my head in shame] So the next time you see a homeless woman in calf-skin red leather pumps with a beige silk bow, say hello to them for me - and tell them that they were my favorite.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Wedding Wednesday: Tradition, schmadition


Shortly after becoming betrothed and hence announcing my betrothedness on The Twitter, one of my twitterites suggested that I read a book called "One Perfect Day: the selling of the American Wedding". The angle of the book was to shed a light on the evils of the $160 billion wedding industry and help to uncover where many of our alleged "traditions" actually come from - so naturally I was all over it, I love a good expose. Not to mention that the cover is pretty fab, I'm always drawn in by good cover art.
Rebecca Mead writes about the absence of any genuine traditions (in the traditional sense of the word) in our lives and more specifically in our weddings. The strapless gown, the candied almonds, the monogrammed matchbook, the tossing of lingerie - does anyone really believe that relatives even as distant as our grandparents did these things? The truth is that most families (mine included) wouldn't have been able to afford these luxuries. That however seems like a distant concern to the modern bride - apparently we are planning weddings and celebrations that are far beyond our budgets and in some cases even beyond our annual incomes. One wedding industry expert says "If a woman is told repeatedly that a wedding costs $30,000 - then she'll think that she's doing really well by coming in closer to $20,000." Yes, that was Satan speaking.


In an era of the Bridezilla it has become almost expected that every woman will turn into a taffeta-hungry spend whore when it comes to her wedding. New brides are thrust into this Wedding Industry Complex and told that without the perfect dress, perfect ring, perfect flowers and perfect personalized table favors that she is basically a failure - as a bride and as a woman. Yes, it's a money bonanza and every retailer in Weddingville is looking to get their hands on the Grade A meat of a newly engaged woman. The book goes into great detail on the topic of registries, how they were invented by flagging department stores in the 1950's and how modern brides in their 30's are encouraged to engage in buying habits similar to that old-timey 19 year old fresh out of her parents house and naive about the ways of marriage and cohabitation. Apparently wanting a new stand mixer is the epitome of evil.


The chapter on the wedding dress was fascinating, I had no idea about the factory farms that put out these dresses. Mead goes to China where she sees first hand the mass assembly of dresses headed to David's Bridal - apparently the Dress Barn for brides. Don't get me wrong - I GET the whole dress thing. I got up at 4am with my mother to watch the Diana & Charles wedding and distinctly remember the sharp intake of breath when we got to see to full expanse of her dress. Clothes are important and make us feel special and we use them to celebrate an occasion - but my question is this, why does EVERY wedding celebration have to involve a full length, sparkly, white, strapless gown? Why is everyone else wearing the same costume no matter their size or skin tone? Why are the alternatives so few and far between goddammit?

The book was a really good read and opened my eyes to just how much cash retailers will be trying to pull from our pockets over the next year. It made me think about what was important to me for our wedding and what was just a "tradition".  It makes me a bit sad when people say "just make it a really good party" because it isn't. It isn't just a party - it's about starting a new life and making a real and serious commitment to that life. It's about thanking our families and friends for standing with us....and yah, about eating really delicious cake.

So the final verdict - I shit on the traditions I hate and welcome the ones that result in new kitchen appliances and buttercream icing. I make no apologies for that.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Binging & Purging & Watching Hoarders

I tried to watch Hoarders. I really did. But by the time I got to the 24th pile of cat shit found in the bottom of the refrigerator I had to give it up. I could not take it any longer which really makes me sad because there's nothing I enjoy more than sitting on my couch, eating popcorn and judging people. Especially if they're Americans ;)



I read that Peter Walsh book earlier last year about cleaning your house and reviewing your emotional attachments to your stuff. Upon finishing it I immediately bought a copy and sent it to my parents. Each blames the other for the clutter of their lives but all I know is that I instantly turn into my neat-freak German Grandmother whenever I go home now. At Christmas I was all "Does this three foot reindeer pulling Jesus really need to be in the middle of the coffee table?". Apparently it did and I should go back to the fancy city where we don't have reindeer's pulling baby Jesus's. Or is it Jesai?
So yah, there are some clutter issues going on in suburban Grimsby.
And my mouth doesn't help the problem.

This past week I've taken on cleaning and re-organizing projects with a vengeance. That's right - Cleaning: John McClane style.Yippee ki-yay motherclutters. I cleaned out my kitchen cupboards, weeded through my random and never used toiletries, pulled apart the bedroom closet and tonight I start in on the THE SHOES. The bf has been nagging me ALL OF MY LIFE about the shoes. ie. you have too many. why do you need these? when will you wear those? how much did these cost? ugh. So many inane questions. The Ron White store started a shoe donation drive for local shelters and back to work programs - so there's my kick in the pumps. No, YOU'RE lame.

Despite all my lamenting and tearful goodbyes I really am happy to say goodbye to most of this stuff and am amazed by the power that a clutter-filled house can have. Not to get all Oprah on you or anything - but my soul feels lighter. No, YOU shut up. Seriously, I feel like I've lost weight or something. Carrying those bags of useless and unused (or at least not recently used) crap down the stairs feels like kicking an abusive relationship to the curb. And stay out! I'm kicking ass like Nancy McKeon in A Cry For Help (yes, I watched a lot of inappropriate tv as a child).

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

Wedding Wednesday: Step One, cut a hole in a box

You knew it was coming - take a deep breath - because I'm about to start talking about the wedding. You can relax a little because as you can see from the title, I'm restricting myself to only talking about it on Wednesday's :) I got this idea from Have Shoes, Will Run - she got engaged at the same marathon as us and is much further along in her planning.


Anyway, first things first. We set the date - December 11, 2010.
I've been contemplating a winter wedding for quite some time now, mostly because I hate getting dressed up and then getting sweaty. It's a pet peeve of mine.
Also, I hate the outdoors and when you get married in the summer there is ALWAYS an outdoor element. I hate eating outside, I hate bees and bugs landing on my food, I hate being sweaty in photographs and I have a very limited threshold of what I would call "Ideal Summer Temperatures".  What I do love is the winter. Albeit mostly from a view behind double-paned glass with a hiked-up heater in the background and an eggnog cocktail in my head. And guess what - winter weddings are fine with that!  Ahhhh winter. If it's good enough for Winter Wedding Barbie then it's good enough for me.

When we headed out looking for locations most of them were offering discounts based upon our preference for the colder months - seems that the Southern Ontario brides have a strong preference for everything that I loathe. Fine with us. We scoured every square inch of Niagara-on-the-Lake, a city close enough to my hometown to appease my mothers concerns that "Well the wedding ALWAYS takes place in the bride's hometown!" but with enough character to not resemble a factory wedding. I toured three vineyards and two hotels. All nice enough and all with delicious wine and food...but just not quite right.

The real problem was that the very first place we looked at was all that we could think about - it ruined us for all other locations. The Art Gallery of Ontario is right next to our condo....literally, we could spit on it. We were already in love with their new restaurant FRANK which opened last year so we thought we'd take a look at the event space. WE. DIED. It is so freaking gorgeous that I could barely speak. Yah, that's right. Me. Not speaking. Ring the alarm.
The AGO wedding planner is a total dream and she walked us through all the options of different areas where we could hold a cocktail reception, dinner, dancing, food and of course the ceremony. And the photography - Jesus, the options are endless. This picture is of the rather infamous (at least if you live in Toronto) front of the building, overlooking Dundas Street. I like to call it the Whale Belly. It's pretty fucking fantastic.

So that was that - we signed the papers, handed over a cheque and the place is ours.
At least for one night with our friends and family :)

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

2009: A Year in Pictures

JANUARY

The month was capped off by my most FAVOURITE TIME OF THE YEAR :) Library conference time. Yes, I seek refuge in expo booths filled with my drug of choice - free books. 


FEBRUARY

My birth month - kind of shitty this year mostly because we were mid-move and everything was in chaos. Made better by this card sent to me by my little brother. What are the green letters you ask? TMNT - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. What any 32 year old woman would want, right? 


MARCH 
 
 Came home one night to find my squirrely-ass cat had torn open his tail. Recommendations: put him on Prozac or cut off the tail. We went with amputation - mostly because he's a Scientologist. 

APRIL

kipped Easter and went to visit my BFF in St. John's. Snuggled with the new baby and sat in awe of how her maternal instincts had kicked in - the realization that we're old enough to actually give birth to these things kicks in for me. Yikes.

MAY 
 
 Eschewing all signs of impending adulthood - the ultimate karaoke session and the most EPIC performance of Phantom of the Opera ever to have hit a transgendered karaoke stage. 

JUNE

 And speaking of transgendered stages - the most EPIC event of my year took place. The Pride RUN! Being one of the minions required to actually work at the event means that I miss all of the fun on the course. Luckily I had friends taking snaps on the field or I would have missed Team Gay Watch altogether, not to mention their bursting pubes. 
 
JULY

The culinary event to rock my 2009 - the breakfast pizza. Never have runny eggs, basil and cheese ever had it so good. 

AUGUST
 
 Ran Midsummer Night's 30km Race. Saw Erica M. Got a medal. Ate my face off. The end. 

SEPTEMBER

Headed back to Newfoundland to spend some time with Team Baby and discovered much pleasure in taking pictures of drunk babies. Okay okay, he wasn't drunk. I was. He was mocking me.
 
OCTOBER

Traveled to San Fran. Ran my first marathon. Got a medal from Tiffany & Co. Got an engagement ring from Tiffany & Co. So ya know...a slow month. 

NOVEMBER

Traveled to New York for the bf's 7th marathon. Enjoyed the fact that I DIDN'T have to run anymore! Also, enjoyed proving my mother wrong by not getting raped or dying in New York. So there.
 
DECEMBER

Any stress of the year or the season or various forms of family can always be rectified by one thing - champagne. 
Okay two things - champagne and FRIENDS! Happy New Year and hugs and kisses xo.