Summer's here and... the time is right for dancing in the street. Wait a minute... I got off track. Ever start to say something and it reminds you of a song? I can never say "summer's here" without thinking of that song. Damn Martha and the Vandellas. Anyway, Summer's here and I'm going to find it difficult to keep a blog every day. The kids are off school and Scott's intermittently home and all that stuff serves to throw me off big time. Especially the next few days and here's why. I'm going camping. You heard. On Saturday morning we're leaving bright and early, driving 11 hours to Delaware for the privilege of sleeping outside. Like a hobo.
I know people love the great outdoors. I'm just not one of them. Give me electricity and my own flushing toilet anyday. If I want to experience nature, I'll sit in my backyard with an ice cold beer in one hand and an Archie comic book digest in the other. Bob Marley would be blasting from the cd player in my livingroom and the phone and a crossword puzzle would be at my side in case of an emergency. If I get hungry, too hot, the air gets buggy or I have to pee, all I have to do is walk a few metres into the house. Why on earth would I subject myself to peeing, cooking, eating and sleeping outside? Am I crazy?
You bet I am. I'm crazy in love with my online friends who's unpopular idea (at least in my eyes) it is to do this. We've been friends since 1997 when we met on a bulletin board for women with babies due in June 1998. I haven't known people in real life that long. We're all different and fun and funny and I can't wait to meet them. Even though I have to drive to a state I've never cared to visit, sleep and pee in less than comfortable conditions, miss my favourite holiday (Canada Day) and spend 11 hours in a metal un-air-conditioned box (it's busted) with 3 kids and an indifferent husband. Scott's amazing, though. He's planning this trip like it means the world to him. Because it means the world to me. Amazing guy.
Anyway, that's the reason I've been so spotty blogging lately. And will be for the next week. I may not blog tomorrow and I definitely won't on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday next week. We'll probably be back on Thursday but I can't guarantee a blog that day. I'll be traumatised and will be recovering under the blankets in my air conditioned, water tight home and enjoying not having to share my toilet with countless digestively challenged strangers.
I can't wait to see how I feel about camping when I get back. I do know that no other living beings, not even the love of my life, could ever get me to sleep in a sleeping bag. For 38 years. Only my June girls. I hope they know how much power they have over me. Or maybe I don't... See you all next week and wish me luck.
Here are some photos of importance to me over the last little while. I haven't gotten anything yet from dragonboat but stay tuned.
Here is Audrey just about to get her ears pierced. She sure doesn't look like she knows what to expect in the next few seconds, does she? She cried right after this was taken.
This is Audrey's 8th birthday party. The shirts and visors were part of the "loot bag" and were customised for each girl.
My oft mentioned 10K race. You'd never think I was just at the finish line and about to drop dead from exhaustion.
Gotta go again. I'm still in chicken-with-its-head-cut-off mode because of the end of school and the camping trip to Delaware on Saturday. Bear with me until I can sit down and work up a proper blog. Love you guys!
I've been rushed off my feet getting teacher gifts ready (remind me to blog that little escapade when it's less painful... suffice it to say GRRRR!) and getting the camping stuff prepared. I can not believe I'm going camping in 4 days. I know tons of people like it but I'm dreading it like you wouldn't believe.
Anyway, here are some kids jokes (my favourite kind since my little brain can never remember normal ones). I'll see you tomorrow.
Q. Why did the man put his money in the freezer? A. He wanted cold hard cash! --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Q. What did the porcupine say to the cactus? A. "Is that you mommy?" --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Q. What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire? A. Frostbite. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Q. How do crazy people go through the forest? A. They take the psycho path. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Q. What do prisoners use to call each other? A. Cell phones. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Q. What do you get from a pampered cow? A. Spoiled milk. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Q. Where do polar bears vote? A. The North Poll
Dragonboat weekend was fantastic. I'll break it down into manageable chunks:
-Bold Bald and Beautiful's best time all weekend (4 races): 2:13:52... ranked 32 out of 190 boats
-Best time of the weekend: 1:55:28 (our coach Bevin was on that team)
-Best moment of terror: When we couldn't find Justin and we had to sneak someone else onto our team to paddle
-Best cookies: Mine. The secret recipe I used for the oatmeal raisin cookies got absolute raves. Thanks forever, sweetie!
-Worst start: Our second race on Saturday. We were dicking around trying to get the boat straight when the cannon went. Thank goodness we recovered well.
-Most kick-ass day: Tied. Saturday and Sunday were both amazing. Sunny and perfect.\
-Most confused group of 24 people: Us on Sunday morning. After our second race we weren't sure if we'd get to race again. We ended up not having to but were we ever mixed up. People were leaving, disassembling our camp, going to the beach, mentally already at home and we may have had to race again.
-Most irritating concession: The Caribbean food stand. I love a good roti or Jamaican patty. And to wash it down with a Ting. At lunchtime I go down there and ask for a chicken roti. All out. What about beef, I ask. Sold out. I was told they only have goat left. Ummm, goat? For a North American audience. I barely like it at my dad's. A patty then? None left. What about a Ting? Not allowed to sell them since Pepsi has the rights to this event. Then why is it advertised on your sign? Grrr.... I ended up with a chicken pita and a Dr. Pepper at another stand. Much easier and what do you know...available.
So I got tons of sun (yes, Black people tan), loads of exercise and hung out with the most fun, fit, people I know. If any of you ever get the chance to participate in this sport, please do it. You'll have the time of your life. We're already talking about maybe doing another festival in Carleton Place in September. I'm so in. I'll bring the cookies.
It'll be the first non-rainy one in weeks and I'm busy again but it's all about me baby!
A half hour ago I was at an end of summer pageant at Elliott and Audrey's school. It was really cute (that's the word I chose and I'm sticking to it). Actually, seeing a class of kindergarteners sing YMCA was absolutely flippin' hysterical. Now the weekend is all mine.
I get to dragon boat my face off (well, more like my back off but you get the drift). The family will drop me off and watch my first race at 11am then play at the beach and go home. I'll be left to my own devices for pretty much the rest of the weekend since there are races both days. What kind of mischief will I get into? I'll let you know on Monday.
Last night we were wrapping up dinner, clearing the table, minding my own business when I see my family on tv. They played that commercial we shot where we passed the salad. How surreal is it to watch your family having dinner on tv while having dinner with your family? Very.
We all look great but we're not on for very long. Of course there's a lingering shot of yours truly looking like someone farted while the voiceover asks "how do you like your chicken?". Ummm... influenza free? Hoo boy. I got a call right after from my neighbour Norah saying she saw us too. So we're famous. Keep your eyes on CBC between now and Canada Day for us.
Okay, onto money matters. That's right, I'm asking you all for cash. Don't worry, I'm easy to ignore since you can just pretend you didn't read my blog today. I can see how many hits it got but not who read it so you're safe. But it doesn't mean you shouldn't give me you're hard earned money.
I love my friends dearly. I really do. But when I open an email from you and find yet another inane joke, naked fireman photo or virtual snowball fight, a little piece of me dies. You heard me. Is it too much to ask that you preface it with a "This joke made me laugh and I thought of you" or even a simple "Hi Karen"? Maybe I'll read it. But mostly when I see the telltale "Fw:Fw:Fw..." on your email I just delete it. Sorry, but that's the way I roll, baby.
Now sometimes I'll fill out those "getting to know you" email form thingies. You know the ones: "What time is it?", "Coke or Pepsi?", "Fat and pretty or thin and ugly" kind of questions. I don't think I've ever divulged this to you but I LOVE filling out forms. Once at census time I got the short form and asked the the guy at my door to dig in his bag for a long version. He was shocked. It comes from a pathological need to talk about myself at every opportunity.
But I'll tell you a secret about those "get to know you" quizzes that are emailed around. You're supposed to fill them out and send it back to everyone in your address book. Well, when you send me one, yes, I do fill it out and yes, I do send it out. To you. And only you. Because I love talking about myself but I don't believe in holding you hostage in order to do it. Read my blog if you like or don't. It's up to you. You came to me. But if I mail you information about me that's unsolicited, isn't that some kind of assault? So I treat people as I'd like to be treated. I send it back to the sender who obviously doesn't mind these things and wants to know more about me. But I leave my other innocent buds alone and they can remain blissfully ignorant about my favourite flower (orange and fuschia gerber daisies, if you're asking).
All that said, most of my friends know I do this. So usually I only get emails tailored to my specific amusement needs. For instance, I just got from my good friend Josee the best website EVER. It's a repository of old television theme songs. So far, Wonder Woman is still on top for me. "All the world is waiting for youuuuuu and the power you posseeeeess! Fighting for your rights.... in your satin tights..." Pure gold baby. it ranks right up there with Fred Flintstone's ode to Wilma's "eyes as black as frying pans".
Anyway, I thought you all would get as much of a kick out of it as I did. Scott and I were sitting up until 11:30 last night listening to the themes from "The Banana Splits" and "Hong Kong Phooey". Click here but make sure you have time to kill. Now I've got to go. I have a couple forms to fill out.
Soccer is often called "the beautiful game". Why? Because of stuff like this play in a game on Friday. Nearly every Argentinian player touched the ball in a gorgeous bit of "keepaway" with the Serbian team. Then the prettiest goal by Cambiasso. If it doesn't get voted "goal of the tournament", I'll be flummoxed.
I'm in the middle of Germany (2) v Ecuador (0) so I'll love you and leave you.
We had a really busy weekend again (does anyone actually get any rest on weekends?) and I'm dealing with the fallout. I was out doing the groceries.
Friday night I stayed up late baking a birthday cake and Saturday was, of course, Audrey's birthday party but that was only after a particularly bracing dragonboat practice. Before it started I put a crumb coat of frosting on the cake (that's all I had left). Then after I had to rush from the boat club to the grocery store to pick up more frosting, juice and cheesies before the party started.
No time for a shower, I slapped on some makeup, dumped the cheesies in a bowl and prepared the visor decorating activity. Thank God for my friend (and Audrey's Godmother) Paula. Once the girls arrived she kept them busy and singing and having a great time. When the cake and presents were done, it was off to the movies. Cars was okay, but as usual I took the opportunity of sitting still in a dark place and had a cleansing, restful nap.
Thank God (again) for my other friend Julie who came with us to the show and helped corral the girls and took them to the toilet while I caught those Zzzs.
I had told the parents to come get their daughters at 6pm but I looked at my watch while the movie was still on at about 6:10. Well, that's embarrassing. I became one of those people who use their cell phones in the theatre and made a desperate call to Scott at home to get him to stall them. Poor guy.
And this was just Saturday.
I won't to bore you anymore with details but just know the weekend was full of visitors, cake, gifts, cards and craziness. Scott didn't even get to open his Father's Day gifts until the kids' bedtime last night. Which is why I had to grocery shop today. And just a caveat about food shopping on a Monday. Don't. There's nothing fresh left and what is is (to put it kindly) suspect. Now for a late lunch and some decadent soap watching. Don'tcha just love Mondays?
Well, it's actually tomorrow but since I don't blog on weekends, today it is.
My beautiful diva Audrey Margaret is turning 8 officially at about 9:30 tomorrow morning. Love you, baby girl! Here's our schedule of events. At 2pm her 4 best friends will arrive. We'll decorate pink foam visors then have a "mum decorated" cake in the shape of an "8" and presents. Then it's off to the movies in my minivan to see "Cars".
After the movie everyone will go home with a custom made, hot pink commemorative birthday t-shirt designed by Audrey and yours truly. Of course my loathing for candy/dollar store junk toy loot bags never makes the "thank you for coming to the party" gift a simple prospect. Which is why I'm posting yet another short blog. I've got to find pictures of each girls' favourite animals for the shirts. A monkey, a rabbit, two cats and a hamster.
All this and Father's Day on Sunday, too. Please don't feel bad for Scott potentially feeling ignored. He's going to the Ottawa Air Show Sunday slobbering all over the WWII planes and stuff so he'll be happy as a pig in poop. And he's getting presents too. All I can say is, I can't wait until Monday.
I'm in the middle of watching Trinidad and Tobago vs. England right now and I desperately want to get back to the game. I tend to choose favourites by the country's connection to me so this one is a toughy. My step-mother is Trini and my dad is West Indian versus my countless cousins and my best friend in the world living over in England. London was also where I had my best birthday celebration ever. So I'm torn as to who I want to win and want to watch every second.
I love World Cup soccer. I've been watching tv unusually early (even for me) and vegging in front of the "beautiful game" all week. There have been 3 games per day on TSN since Saturday and I've watched nearly every one. How can you not enjoy soccer? It's got speed, drama (have you never seen a soccer player drop to the ground in apparent agony trying to get the ref's attention only to get up and score a goal seconds later?) and some of the hottest bods in sports. Soccer players have all their own teeth and don't wear excessive padding like those hockey and football wimps. All they need is a cup and some shin pads. It also makes it easier to outfit your kid if they want to play an organised sport. Soccer players run and run and run. There are 2 45 minute halves and that's it. The time never stops and no weather short of a tsunami can stop a game. Sometimes the ref will add 2 or 3 minutes at the end of each half but a soccer game is rarely longer than 1 hour 40.
Soccer is simple. 17 laws. Follow them and truimph.
The fans are so passionate. They paint their faces, they wear their team colours, they scream, sing, set cars on fire and riot. Sometimes they even kill each other. That's dedication.
If someone gets hurt or kicked out of the game they aren't replaced. How cool is that? Talk about being penalised. The field is huge. Being a man down changes the whole dynamic of the game. And makes them have to run that much more. Making their bodies tired and more susceptible to getting hurt. Yet also making their bodies even more easy on the eyes. Ah, yes. The circle of hot.
Soccer is a game that gives the rest of the world a chance to excel. Yes, everyone knows the America is fantastic at every goddamned thing. Except soccer. It's nice to see teams like Togo and Croatia compete in this world class event.
Have you seen the size of the World Cup trophy? Your child probably has a bigger one in his bedroom. But it isn't about the size it's how you use it. Right boys?
The World Cup is only held every 4 years. I like soccer during the "off season" but adore it during the World Cup. Again it's my bandwagon nature. But I don't care. I'm having a ball. Well, gotta fly, it's Saudi Arabia/Tunisia match right now and Tunisia just scored.
Before I go, though, I'm sure you're curious as to who I'm rooting for. Well, I think Brazil (as usual) and England (David Beckham... yum) have a chance this year but I really don't care. I'm in it for the good plays and the awesome legs. Shallow, I know but that's me all over. See ya.
Please tell me someone else watched this on tv last night. Thank god for the internet because I'd swear I was having some kind of fever dream or someone slipped me a roofie. They aired a one hour show on this playground game and treated it as if it was the World Cup. There's a sound byte in the clip above with a woman "competitor" saying that RPS is "...physical and mental...". Well, she's half right.
People wore costumes, trash talked each other and talked about strategy. Strategy? In a game where you have to make one of 3 choices? It boggles the mind. I found a variation that warms this Trekkie's heart, though. Rock Paper Scissors Spock Lizard. More choices equals more fun. And anytime I can flash the Vulcan peace sign without looking like a complete and utter dork is a good time.
And talk about mind boggling. You wouldn't believe what comes up when you google "rock paper scissors". You get over 5.5 million hits. I'm still shaking my head. I'd like to say "only in America" but the World Championships are being held in Toronto. And to give foreign kooks credit, it was invented in Japan.
Thankfully there was a comic edge to the show last night but some people take it seriously. A judge ordered a couple of lawyers to play the game to decide where witness statements would be taken. And the winner of last night's competition won $50,000.
Anyway, the whole thing was quite surreal but as my Dad alway said, you learn something new every day. Yesterday I learned that this game is also called Roshambo and today I learned you can play it online. Have fun.
Dragonboat practice was particularly brutal this weekend. It was cold (about 10C) rainy and windy. By the end of practice we were all soaking wet and shivering. At least we had a blow-out in the practice race to keep us warm. We could barely even see the other teams when we turned around. Sweet.
Audrey got her ears pierced yesterday. Yup, my baby girl is growing up. She got her birthstone (alexandrite, a pretty light blue stone) as a pre-birthday gift. The actual day is this coming Saturday. I'm proud that I was there to witness her first piercing. Hopefully her last but I don't want to assume.
I do wonder about her future when it comes to tattoos and piercings. As someone with 3 tats myself, how can I say anything against them? I love them. I guess if she wants one I'll just have to go with her. Maybe even get another one myself at the same time? It sure is going to be an interesting time in our house. I'll have 3 teenagers. I'm going to have to learn how to self-medicate. I better enjoy them now while they're still "little".
Have a great day and I hope the sun is shining where you are!
When he does, it throws off my day because it feels like a weekend. The great thing is that we can hang out and be a couple like we were before we had kids. That and we can get the groceries done before the weekend hits. Aaahh yes, the practical meets the romantic.
Yesterday Audrey was crying and I told Elliott they were just "crocodile tears". He, of course, asked me what that meant. I explained then thought how hard it must be for kids and foreigners to learn English. So many bizarre idioms. So many cockeyed spellings. It's a miracle any of us get good at it.
I love English. I always have. I love when it's written beautifully and when it's spoken or sung. I don't mind minor spelling mistakes and grammar goofs for the most part, especially in notes or blogs. And I find myself often making errors that would have gotten me in big trouble back in school. Like starting sentences the way I just did or ending them with prepositions on. But we're all friends here aren't we?
What drives me absolutely bonkers is intentionally bad spelling by advertisers and interneters. Every time I see the word "nite" I die a little inside. Is it so hard to throw the "gh" in there? And those IM spellings? Unless you're texting me, don't write "I'm running L8", you'll make me itch. I'll think you're trying out a new computer programme. I'm a nearly 40 year old woman. I'm easily confused.
I feel like Homer Simpson. Head back, eyes glazed, drool, the works. Every time I'm done working out, I reward myself with a peanut butter sandwich. I tell you, it's the perfect food. It's delicious on its own straight out of the jar with a spoon, and in complicated Thai chicken dishes. It's healthy (in reasonable amounts) and tastes like being a little kid. How great is that?
I often feel sorry for children who are allergic. And for my kids, frankly, who can't bring the perfect sandwich to school because of those children. I feel sorry for all involved. When we were kids my brother Mike and I would take 4 slices of the softest, whitest Wonder bread, slather them with peanut butter on both sides and make what we called a "double decker peanut butter sandwich". Four layers of peanutty heaven. Don't forget the icy cold milk. And please don't insult the sandwich by putting butter on the bread first. You'll corrupt the flavour. There's a reason we don't put sugar on top of a banana split. Overkill.
Now that I'm older and my hips will never forgive me, I only eat my pb single style on brown bread but it's just as great. And peanut butter is such a team player. It plays nice with jam, chocolate, cream cheese, fruit and even that leftover cranberry sauce in the back of the fridge from Easter dinner. When I moved in with Scott, he introduced me to peanut butter and bacon sandwiches. Before you groan and gasp in revulsion, you need to try this. It's orgasmic. The only thing I'm reluctant to try involving peanutbutter is that peanut butter sandwich recipe in the back of an old cookbook of mine involving a mix of pb, devilled ham, onion and mayo. Not too sure about that one.
One of our favourite dinners around here is "chicken popsicles". It's just chicken on skewers with sticky rice and spicy peanut sauce for dipping. I form the rice into balls and we eat everything with our hands. Good times in the Kaye household.
I'd love to run a peanut butter only restaurant. Every dish would include the versatile paste. Think about it: for breakfast, a stack of peanut butter and banana waffles with tons of maple syrup. Lunch, a classic pb&j with a frosty strawberry peanut butter milkshake on the side. Dinner would start with peanut vegetable soup, then peanut crusted beef with a side of Szechwan noodles and finish with a slice of chocolate peanut butter cheesecake. Sigh. Nirvana. I'm going to sign off now as I have a delicious daydream to continue. Have a "nutty" day.
The family and I shot a television commercial! My friend Lisa works for the Chicken Farmers Of Canada and since the bird flu, chicken is getting a bad rep. She needed to make a "chicken is safe" commercial with a diverse looking family. Well you don't get anymore diverse than us. We're like black and white. Hee. Anyway, who else could she turn to but her old theatre company buddy? I work cheap and am willing to make an ass of myself. On a nationwide basis.
I'm so proud of my kids. They were hungry and bored after the 46th time we passed the salad-we-couldn't-eat around making pretend conversation. The ad is going to start with a scientist in a lab, then go a farmer, then to a beautiful, ethnically mixed family having a barbeque in their are-you-kidding-how-could-this-family-afford-that-gorgeously-manicured-backyard-with-a-pool all with a voiceover so our inane chatter won't be heard.
It was really interesting to see how these things are made. Scott (such a good sport) had to wear makeup and so did the boys, everytime the kids had an itch or fidgeted (or played pocket pool as was the case with Henry) we had to start again. I had to pass the bowl of salad to Audrey but not look at her as I did it because it wrecked the shot, we had to nod, smile and laugh even though we were saying things like "Do you think we're going to get it right this time?", "No, it'll be a miracle", "This is so boring" and "Are we done yet, I'm hungry". Elliott told me at one point that if someone could read lips they'd know we were talking gibberish and he's so right.
It was also a massive ego boost for me. As if I needed it. Everyone behaved extremely well even after 2 hours of passing a salad bowl around. The director said we all did well. Then he told me that the "camera loved me" and he wondered if I'd done any modelling. Yeah. I'm 30 pounds overweight, 20 years too old and barely taller than my 10 year old son. Tyra's banging down my door. But man, I was flattered. Then he asked for my "information" to potentially cast me in something else. Apparently the government is always looking for "diverse" faces for their ads. Cool. I'm so in.
So apparently the ad will start running in the next 10 days here in Canada. Lisa said it'll even run on the Jumbotron on Parliament Hill during the big Canada Day show. How freaky will that be? For those of you who aren't here in Canada, I'll of course be sending you to the website where you can see it. I mean, I have an online blog that's all about me. Do you think I'd leave it out? You don't know me at all.
Well, I've droned on enough about this whole thing. I could go on and on about the amazingly incredibly gorgeous backyard we were using and what we got paid (it seemed like stealing) but I don't want to take you away from your mundane little lives any longer. Besides, I have to find myself an agent for when Tyra calls. Love you all, dahlings. Air kisses! Mwah. Mwah.
The reason I'm late today is because I'm getting myself and the family ready for something we're all doing at 6pm tonight. I'll tell you about it tomorrow. It really is cool.
I've done our laundry, cut the kids' fingernails, washed their faces, shaved my legs and pits and coached the kids on being on their very bestest behaviour. I even have bags of plain M&Ms for treats if they do well. I'll spill all the details in the morning if this doesn't turn out as humiliating as I suspect it will.
Anyone else irritated by all the talk of death and destruction tomorrow 06/06/06? Look, I'm as conveniently religious as the next gal but nothing big is going to happen tomorrow. I promise. Unless one of those "self fulfilling prophesy" thingies happen and you bring it on by freaking yourself out.
I don't consider myself superstitious but I do believe in not taking a chance when the superstitious route is so simple. Here are a list of things I do. NOT because I believe in this stuff but because I simply don't want to push my luck. At least that's what I tell myself:
-I hold my breath passing a cemetery (bad luck not to) -I lift my feet up when driving over train tracks (devil goes into you through your feet) -I never put my purse on the floor (the money drains out) -I never put shoes on a table (bad luck for the shoe owner but also common sense) -I don't open umbrellas indoors (just a generally stupid idea) -I toss salt over my left shoulder when I spill it (the devil peeks from behind and the salt blinds him) -I knock on wood whenever I say stupid things like "I never get sick" (Hee. I just knocked) -I get delighted when I have an itchy palm (because money is coming my way)
I never worry about Friday the 13th. I have no qualms about walking under ladders. Walking around construction zones (ie: city streets) in downtown Montreal will cure you of that real quick. Don't care about broken mirrors, black cats or lucky pennies on the ground. I mean really. A penny? I'm not bending my big Black butt down for anything less than a loonie. And squashing spiders making it rain? Please. It'd be a monsoon around here. I've been mashing them into dust at a rate of about 3 per day for the last week. My house is crawling with the nasty things.
So back to tomorrow. To be honest the only thing I would do to protect myself (and the world) is reschedule a planned induction or c-section. Who wants a baby born on a freaky day? But what can you do if he/she/IT comes naturally on that day? You deal, that's what. Aside from that, if you want to take a day off and stay under the covers tomorrow, do it but don't blame poor misunderstood 6/6/6. Supposedly it's going to be hot as hell. What am I doing? I'm tempted to check out The Omen. Talk about tempting fate.
You know those new plastic/rubber clogs that everyone is wearing? You know, the ones that come in tons of colours? Worn by both guys and girls? That should be an ick giveaway right there. Unisex shoes that aren't sneakers? Errr, yeah. Anyway, I've got one word to say about them. Yuck.
I'm a fashion victim. I'll jump on any trend that passes my way but I just can't get into this one. They may be comfortable and a shoe revolution or whatever but man, they're glorified Dutch wooden shoes. Does anyone find them sexy? Comfy, yes. Matchy, maybe. But sexy? I'd like to see the person that thinks so. Anyway, I wouldn't be caught dead in them. I truly apologise if you love them and have a pair in every colour but they just aren't for me.
Still, I wanted to give them a fighting chance. Who am I to let a fashion trend pass me by? So today at the mall I actually tried a pair on. Black so I wouldn't be influenced by a weird colour. And they're just as ugly looking down at them as they are from across a room. As I put them back on the rack still marvelling at their popularity, I saw them. Black and red Croc flip flops. Totally normal looking and just as comfy as the ugly brutes I just put back. SOLD! A little expensive but they're worth it. So now I'm on the bandwagon like everyone else but still look oh so cute. Everyone's happy. Have a good weekend. I'm off for a walk with my new Crocs.
I've been writing this blog daily for months and it's been relatively clean but today let's get down and dirty, 'k? Okay, maybe not dirty but exactly the opposite. Let me explain.
I went to the Y today. It rained and Scott took the van so I had to bike it there. It was a 20 minute ride then when I got there I took an aquafit class. After the class I showered. In a communal shower. A normal thing for most people but a really cool thing for me.
Before my surgery my boobs were a freak show and I was about 30 pounds heavier than I am now. I'd always make excuses to not shower in public and run home all stinky and gross. I'd never put myself in a situation where I'd have to be nude in front of others. I've obviously gotten over it and it's because I've come to a few realizations:
1. Contrary to some men's lesbian fantasies, other women aren't ogling me. They are not eyeing me up and down. They're quickly soaping and scramming just like I'm trying to do. How do I know? Because I'm eyeing them up and down and they're definitely not looking back at me.
2. Other women have yuckier bodies than me. Okay, maybe not yuckier but just as yucky. We all sag, jiggle, have stretch marks and/or cellulite. Today I had hairy legs and pits and my c-section scar was looking particularly ropey. No one screamed in terror or fainted dead away.
3. My body is okay. It really is. For a mum with 3 kids (all via c section) who's train is rapidly clickety-clacking toward "Station Forty", it'll do. It gets me where I need it to go without pain (usually), it can bend, jump and did I mention it can run 10K?
I'm a married mother of 3. I'm Canadian. I'm a Whovian, a sci-fi nerd, a ukulele player, knitter, cartoon/animé lover and a tv/pop culture-holic, I keep a blog that inflates my already swollen ego. I'm not all that interesting but I have high self-esteem which makes up for it.
Email me at email@example.com. Let's talk about the stuff I love.