tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19824013188599106352024-03-13T02:59:50.683-04:00The Kaye WayI reject your reality and substitute my ownKaren Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.comBlogger1953125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-17711968987646622602019-02-19T18:54:00.000-05:002019-02-19T22:05:50.130-05:00I'm pretty proud of myself...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Here are a few videos of my final National Team dragonboat physical testing. On their own they look pretty good so <i>please,</i> no comparing them to yours or other dragonboaters you know!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/0wpSvBBlzEI/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0wpSvBBlzEI?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is 80lbs but my pb is 125</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/BjMOXmfBHYQ/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BjMOXmfBHYQ?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I hate this fucking machine.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/TEfGO1QOJRU/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TEfGO1QOJRU?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe><br />
Any more than one of these is a win. I've been pullup training for 2 years!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm happy it's done and I'm happy to have had the opportunity to feel like a "real" athlete during this process. Now to focus on my Galley Girls team and our push to make it to the World Championships in France next year.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Ready Ready!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
kxx</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-82393699359223383712019-01-23T20:14:00.002-05:002019-01-23T20:14:21.620-05:00Woof, it's been a while!Let's jump right in, shall we?<br />
<br />
It's a snow day today and I told myself I'd do things I don't do often. Baking bread and blogging both qualify.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimzKz-mBu5gTG_h7B9GQvKweBn_oXwcZkWT-EKt5H2nzvp01FQ0d8EBcpq7Z2bfrPuIzVR5RW9TlpOYyjtcUDLT_pqhnqhT_XHV2Wh15xEhxNXmyt4srM_Oe73Udn2K1GGkJjQcCh-FuI/s1600/20190123_164239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimzKz-mBu5gTG_h7B9GQvKweBn_oXwcZkWT-EKt5H2nzvp01FQ0d8EBcpq7Z2bfrPuIzVR5RW9TlpOYyjtcUDLT_pqhnqhT_XHV2Wh15xEhxNXmyt4srM_Oe73Udn2K1GGkJjQcCh-FuI/s320/20190123_164239.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
You should see it outside, folks. It's gorgeous. And that's <i><b>me</b></i> saying that. A world class winter-hater. A card carrying summer lover (how many of you thought; "had me a blast" after you read that?). There is a pile of snow on everything and no one outside except for the brave souls across the street who insist on clearing their driveway within an inch of its life. I think they actually swept it. This is what happens when you retire, people.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pW1kAT1FaD4IRiUXk9miinwCJMB6GrZPmOGrTIUfVSW_Av4hMCrWnGJZLQi7r-Y4_YPJcaEz86RXP2iBMzcx-tAt8nPnu81J-iqA1k52ejs-EgKmt2ltH444MI-aZZAvrLztnYLeHUY/s1600/20190123_160918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pW1kAT1FaD4IRiUXk9miinwCJMB6GrZPmOGrTIUfVSW_Av4hMCrWnGJZLQi7r-Y4_YPJcaEz86RXP2iBMzcx-tAt8nPnu81J-iqA1k52ejs-EgKmt2ltH444MI-aZZAvrLztnYLeHUY/s320/20190123_160918.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Hey, I guess a hearty Happy New Year is in order. When do you stop saying it, anyways? So far I'm still saying it to people I haven't seen since before January 1 but when does it stop? What if I meet and old friend for drinks in March? Should I still go for it?<br />
<br />
Looking forward to a few things in my life right now. My neighbour Jen and I have assembled a trivia team called The <a href="https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/very-stable-genius" target="_blank">Stable Geniuses</a> and we play at the Nepean Sailing Club every Thursday. I love trivia and we're really having a ball with this. We're currently on a run of 4th place finishes so there's always room to improve. Sunday my dragonboat team will finally be paddling on the water. No, not the Ottawa River but the warm blue waters of the Nepean Sportsplex swimming pool. No matter. As long as I have a paddle in my hand I'm in my happy place.<br />
<br />
So how's your year going so far?<br />
<br />
kxxKaren Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-43278635035996939522018-03-23T07:49:00.001-04:002018-03-23T07:49:59.533-04:00When was the first time you felt old?I'm 50 now (harrumph!) and I've never been in better shape. I can lift a ton (not an <i>actual</i> ton (d'uh)... but I can bench more than half my weight) and do over 20 boy push-ups in one go. I've lost over 10 pounds and I'm feeling great and super strong. That said I feel old.<br />
<br />
No, not<i> look</i> old (I still look relatively uncracked) but there are things that happen on the daily that remind me of how old I actually am. Like the time I threw out my back just by coughing and the time I nearly got run over by a car as I chased a $5 into the street like the old miser I am.<br />
<br />
The first time I really felt old was around 2000 when I went to my first parent/teacher meeting. I couldn't believe this was me. When did I become a responsible adult? Then I started seeing really suspicious things all around me. The guy I thought was cute at the grocery checkout was old enough to be my... cousin. My doctor, who seemed really old to me at the time, made a reference to <a href="https://bccns3s.blogspot.ca/2018/03/and-were-back.html" target="_blank">The Electric Company</a> that I understood. Singers looked like children and sang songs I didn't understand. The Thong Song? No. Mambo #5? Why?<br />
<br />
Now it seems that everyone is younger than me. Henry's high school principal, my new doctor, all my cool neighbours, my co-workers, even the Prime Minister. People who are <i>supposed</i> to be older than I am. Welp, at least I can find solace in the fact that I can bench press more than most of these children...<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/feeling-spring-chickeny-thats-because-50-years-old-plus-is-like-the-new-30-years-old-plus-c1299.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="294" data-original-width="420" height="224" src="https://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/feeling-spring-chickeny-thats-because-50-years-old-plus-is-like-the-new-30-years-old-plus-c1299.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-681457887017825122018-03-06T19:13:00.000-05:002018-03-06T19:54:36.461-05:00Wow! March already!Time flies when you're having fun. Or more accurately... time goes by exactly as it should while you slog through this exhausting life until you inevitably pass onto greener pastures. Potato/potahto...<br />
<br />
I had an interesting month (like I always do, frankly). I smiled, worked and worked out (5x/week... yikes!) through a deep, hacking cough that I probably got from those gooey yucks at school and promptly passed it to my whole family (sorry, guys). It's still lingering (or it's a new one... it hasn't decided). I got together with friends old and new, played some pub trivia did some (lots of) shopping, and did a dragonboat fitness test where I found I was 10 pounds lighter than I was in November. Who knew? Oh and I got a little bee tattoo to commemorate my Auntie B who died two Februarys ago.<br />
<br />
So that was my month in a nutshell. How was yours? Do anything cool I should know about?<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfbI3v6ToSIDhlDX9brvuvT9jhijFrwPNNbSQ24kjqX7xhnlKcy5fEL-N7UY0Jo1YbXmHeHJoF38W-2dt7XlEm-E07J5ogPWXytescRxBAK2MqyLm1FQIEQcYaVyMy8Kjpfwd6S_WDCng/s1600/20180306_185342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfbI3v6ToSIDhlDX9brvuvT9jhijFrwPNNbSQ24kjqX7xhnlKcy5fEL-N7UY0Jo1YbXmHeHJoF38W-2dt7XlEm-E07J5ogPWXytescRxBAK2MqyLm1FQIEQcYaVyMy8Kjpfwd6S_WDCng/s320/20180306_185342.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-23173198345789206612018-01-16T18:58:00.001-05:002018-01-16T18:58:21.573-05:00What do you call a 4'9" runaway psychic?All my life I've thought that, in terms of clothes, small, medium, large and extra large meant:<br />
<br />
Small: teens<br />
<br />
Medium: tiny adults<br />
<br />
Large: normal adults<br />
<br />
XLarge: bigger adults<br />
<br />
I know that all sizes vary between brands but generally, I kinda thought this was the way it was. I often blamed my <strike>giant</strike> muscular thighs and calves for the fact that every pair of large yoga/jogging pants I ever bought didn't quite fit. And by "didn't quite fit" I mean they always slowly and annoyingly rolled or slid their way down to the sweet spot at my c-section scar and sat there. That or I'd have to hold them up throughout a whole run. Which I've done more times than I care to admit.<br />
<br />
So imagine my surprise when I accidentally bought a medium sized pair of exercise tights on the weekend. For some reason I tried them on before bringing them back and I was shocked. Is this the way these pants are supposed to feel? All snug and wonderful? All stay uppy and non-rolly downy? I may never take them off.<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
PS: The punchline to the joke is... a small medim at large.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/your-pants-say-yoga-but-your-ass-says-mcdonalds-53eb8.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="294" data-original-width="420" height="224" src="https://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/your-pants-say-yoga-but-your-ass-says-mcdonalds-53eb8.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-46100604718678353072017-12-24T17:52:00.001-05:002017-12-24T17:52:19.408-05:00Did I ever tell you about the Sandman? <p dir="ltr">So this Christmas eve tradition started when I realized one Christmas morning that the kids' pyjamas were awful in every single photograph I took. Torn, stained, stretched out, too small, you name it. So the following year, and every year after, the Sandman would come on Xmas eve and leave a gift for the kids to open the night before. It always just so happened to be new pjs. It <i>is</i> the Sandman after all... The guy in charge of sleep.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Also, the Sandman is also low key pissed to leave his, I don't know... <i>lair</i> to have to only come to our house. He wraps badly, uses too much or too little paper and scribbles the names directly on the packages. This year he straight up forgot which box was for who and he only had 2 to keep track of. Oh you silly Sandman. </p>
<p dir="ltr">In case you can't read what he scrawled on the gifts, here it is: </p>
<p dir="ltr">"Ok. So here's the deal... I'm the Sandman not Santa I have no elves and I have no patience. You are lucky these are even wrapped. One of these is for the boys, one is for the girls. You figure it out. I forgot, frankly. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Whatever, enjoy, sleep well, <br>
The Sandman"</p>
<p dir="ltr">I hope the kids do it too. Or start something new of their own. Christmas traditions have to start somewhere. </p>
<p dir="ltr">kxx <br><br></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6BPWZnFeAaIidOrK5mFj5J7eVlRfX4RAGYLSbuBE8pXuqny-gV_6_3oulAGVX_eRccVItLmbiI7Y7RjKGGscoZSwHQgG9nOPSF19DsDtzN4os6vGy7Fp4UqU1Wwc_kGfZH9riTT2JPgA/s1600/1514155857226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6BPWZnFeAaIidOrK5mFj5J7eVlRfX4RAGYLSbuBE8pXuqny-gV_6_3oulAGVX_eRccVItLmbiI7Y7RjKGGscoZSwHQgG9nOPSF19DsDtzN4os6vGy7Fp4UqU1Wwc_kGfZH9riTT2JPgA/s640/1514155857226.jpg"> </a> </div>Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-44065611030181019642017-10-20T07:09:00.002-04:002017-10-20T07:09:35.080-04:00New scheduleIn an effort to make it to the Dragonboat World Championships in Hungary next year, I've stepped up my workouts. Over the spring and summer I had been on the water up to 4 times a week, paddling my little heart out. Now that the season on the water is done, I have to keep up my fitness. The regimen I<br />
<br />
<i>hold it</i><br />
<br />
I just read that back and two things... a) It sounds boring and 2) If I write any more about this, it'll get <i>even more</i> boring. Trust me.<br />
<br />
Suffice it to say that my new schedule has me waking up at 6 to run before my demanding teaching job then going to the gym after that demanding job to lift weights.<br />
<br />
Now was that so hard?<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
Jesus, I think that this dragonboat thing is making me boring. I used to do so many other things that brought me joy. Cosplay, ukulele, knitting, baking, movies... I was so well rounded. Now I'm only blasting my lats, constantly checking my heart rate, trying my best to complete a single pull-up, and comparing and contrasting protein drinks. Yup, boring.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/21/7f/29/217f29436ba5294f32983b2122db61f4--leg-day-meme-humor-gym-humor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="550" height="320" src="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/21/7f/29/217f29436ba5294f32983b2122db61f4--leg-day-meme-humor-gym-humor.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-85012695428033214772017-10-02T16:10:00.000-04:002017-10-02T16:13:17.108-04:00Have you ever had a Brazilianmeal? What?<br />
<br />
Anyway, over the Labour day weekend, My friends and I went to Toronto for a Depeche Mode concert. One of the nights we went to a Brazilian restaurant. For those of you who haven't experienced this, you pay a flat fee, get access to a small buffet of side dishes and then comes the meat. Waiters came around over and over with meats on long skewers that they slice off as needed. And oh man, is it needed. There was shrimp, chicken, salmon, lamb, beef pork, steak wrapped in bacon, steak flavoured in a million ways and did I mention steak? At the end of the meal, I was in a food coma akin to the one you get at Thanksgiving. It was insane. And speaking of insane, I forgot to mention the floor show with scantily clad dancers and acrobats on silks. In a restaurant. Where people are eating. I shit you not.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYqMTniGqwKQltHbVJeT7QDunC5S8ZiapPtQofK4XkjZ7bDRz_zf-Kmko7tGL5f0X49mHvcPRGYf0B_ZdUJGfnJA4gABFSQsYwhO0fSrZdkDtkK8eE9ZD8q4mrtvOCwu3aG7d0zlAM9g/s1600/20170902_191022.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYqMTniGqwKQltHbVJeT7QDunC5S8ZiapPtQofK4XkjZ7bDRz_zf-Kmko7tGL5f0X49mHvcPRGYf0B_ZdUJGfnJA4gABFSQsYwhO0fSrZdkDtkK8eE9ZD8q4mrtvOCwu3aG7d0zlAM9g/s320/20170902_191022.mp4" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SaE85HozimTLYGAkNEI6kP_rXRJn84L-yonL26ytSRfB_k1q17pvhEjo38DEffYdXuFOB_wBKqjS2zWj0rNVIAElGzsIlkQazCqIW8f8TM_uPcEuoSaWxBh4YIgc5FbLkqMdPxrEYMo/s1600/20170902_191721.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SaE85HozimTLYGAkNEI6kP_rXRJn84L-yonL26ytSRfB_k1q17pvhEjo38DEffYdXuFOB_wBKqjS2zWj0rNVIAElGzsIlkQazCqIW8f8TM_uPcEuoSaWxBh4YIgc5FbLkqMdPxrEYMo/s320/20170902_191721.mp4" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ7AuXtxdWiPU7EqM-RIZLuBadOqFtFKZlJRhSp658wltQsrtpRsbNdLpbXGnUJ_0DNUxWdzUj6zg16io0a43H5CTZbAnTEAu7ihOM7H8mP1mOtXjHcvbGNC7Q2lYnR52J6dNDyIOu0dY/s1600/20170902_184709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ7AuXtxdWiPU7EqM-RIZLuBadOqFtFKZlJRhSp658wltQsrtpRsbNdLpbXGnUJ_0DNUxWdzUj6zg16io0a43H5CTZbAnTEAu7ihOM7H8mP1mOtXjHcvbGNC7Q2lYnR52J6dNDyIOu0dY/s320/20170902_184709.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
But all that food insanity gave me pause. What if you had the same concept but for desserts? You sit in your seats as dessert carts came by. Over and over and over. What's not to like? You'd have small, tasting sized portions of everything that is available that day. Everything from cake to pie, trifle to Eton mess. A great British Bake Off dream. The only thing off the table is the dancing girls. I mean really...<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://d1zpvjny0s6omk.cloudfront.net/media/fileupload/2015/10/08/3459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="800" height="213" src="https://d1zpvjny0s6omk.cloudfront.net/media/fileupload/2015/10/08/3459.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-18875860279620413252017-09-09T22:59:00.000-04:002017-09-09T22:59:50.427-04:00My laptop is backAfter a long summer dealing with a bloated and slow laptop, here I am back again. Did you miss me? I've had an amazing 50th summer. Among other things I had a surprise birthday party, saw Depeche Mode for the 6th time, visited the Maritimes for the first time, Went to the National Championships in the sport I love, had fun, and took many naps.<br />
<br />
Now that it's over, I'm trying to gain some perspective on being 50. So far my philosophy is to start as I mean to go on. I guess that means more parties, more concerts, more travel more dragonboat, more fun, and of course, more naps.<br />
<br />
I'm going to kill being 50.<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrd5eGMu19q9c_-bmC785iH5hk1XwnRrebUM2ovAPSz8mhfqpZWsJE1qWvSU4s_UgS9vyx6g7p_IaOaqe1K-EGF-Ywpp-OjXzjoyM-FVppEjx7pz2ceGdWkwcggI_rtFudfPK2V9qxmk/s1600/20170810_094528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrd5eGMu19q9c_-bmC785iH5hk1XwnRrebUM2ovAPSz8mhfqpZWsJE1qWvSU4s_UgS9vyx6g7p_IaOaqe1K-EGF-Ywpp-OjXzjoyM-FVppEjx7pz2ceGdWkwcggI_rtFudfPK2V9qxmk/s320/20170810_094528.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 1st selfie as a 50 year old. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-71551054898218796832017-07-19T11:07:00.001-04:002017-07-19T11:22:48.066-04:00When Comic-con suddenly becomes worth every pennyTake a look at @alannealottawa's <a href="https://twitter.com/alannealottawa/status/863427406211710979?s=09" target="_blank">Tweet</a><br />
<br />
Yup, I'm a star.<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXM6DV434LjmjYcjQRk5nExPOEuLu1mQB_9jDmWyWNh0hUp9SaiGRkIbMROncTyBN54ygi41VAMHP1zeOisAlmC5aW6Jo2qkVWkFkSKTNkSsLw8kDY6GyVvhUz7yTp0HxVohzTftV8LpY/s1600/20170513_103625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXM6DV434LjmjYcjQRk5nExPOEuLu1mQB_9jDmWyWNh0hUp9SaiGRkIbMROncTyBN54ygi41VAMHP1zeOisAlmC5aW6Jo2qkVWkFkSKTNkSsLw8kDY6GyVvhUz7yTp0HxVohzTftV8LpY/s320/20170513_103625.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
PS: I'm just testing again... don't mind meKaren Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-55506927336125929452017-07-07T08:33:00.001-04:002017-07-07T08:34:57.296-04:00Just testing <p dir="ltr">I'm sitting here at Starbucks wondering if I can post from my phone. Is it possible? Can this actually happen? </p><p dir="ltr">kxx </p><p dir="ltr">*edited to add:</p><p dir="ltr">Clearly it can. Look forward to seeing more posts since I don't have to use my clunky and mostly useless laptop anymore! </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFYf30oIwmiWL4dTEPRW5xFNb7NsE7wd6gpQEliiTj_qzVAQ3UsTKNaqjoOqUI19lVRwUThfft7Z1ROrIggckxaKGeXNP2HcuvKXiQkaIxBZe5fSfR0yEUSJtl28BYT1yQ-zNUolgkdTM/s1600/1499430761357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFYf30oIwmiWL4dTEPRW5xFNb7NsE7wd6gpQEliiTj_qzVAQ3UsTKNaqjoOqUI19lVRwUThfft7Z1ROrIggckxaKGeXNP2HcuvKXiQkaIxBZe5fSfR0yEUSJtl28BYT1yQ-zNUolgkdTM/s640/1499430761357.jpg"> </a> </div>Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-42372158674043889822017-05-07T19:20:00.001-04:002017-05-07T19:20:28.389-04:00Am I right to be miffed?Again, I'm new at this dog stuff so maybe this is something that happens regularly but it left me cold.<br />
<br />
I was at a dog cafe with Wesley and Audrey and having a nice time. Wesley was being super good and I thought I'd give him a treat. I bought him a pig's ear (something he normally loves) and handed it to him. He took it out of my hand but promptly dropped it on the floor... there was so much cool stuff to smell and see and do, he just wasn't interested in it. No problem. As I reached down to grab it, a dachshund took it, ran to its owner, and started gnawing on it. I looked over at the owner and she smiled at me, saying that "he never liked those before" and went on talking to her friends. I kinda thought she'd take it away from him and return it but fine. They're only $2.<br />
<br />
But then as I was leaving, she was at the cash buying a bunch of them for her dog (looked like about 6). She turned to me and said "thanks for the ear!". And that was it.<br />
<br />
Huh. I kinda thought she'd hand me one to replace mine. But maybe it's a dog treat thing I don't know about. Am I right to be miffed?<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFh1Aqq5eMeXWP3OZlPjmlZ4Bq98kCSLC5nSIyqOfEAZvKteIktJvZyX-YRm5gyqUXAouBGoW97lPPM_msDb_hhuBvEWFdCRsaNsVvUaJba0xpyh0hDrV6mc4WdWg62dAw6HQWSbkoWA/s1600/20170504_190601.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFh1Aqq5eMeXWP3OZlPjmlZ4Bq98kCSLC5nSIyqOfEAZvKteIktJvZyX-YRm5gyqUXAouBGoW97lPPM_msDb_hhuBvEWFdCRsaNsVvUaJba0xpyh0hDrV6mc4WdWg62dAw6HQWSbkoWA/s320/20170504_190601.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to get the attention of the dachshund's mum</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiUx1nmX-7yzYvQNFWRxizQVADsqPsTop-vu2ZC9fGvqr6N6-opT4-Nf5ICAk7qPQyztMo1dMLWRkkMIPVpRRJbSAMZTkrkX8bF5H-lMkOH2VCddLJwqa9G1lpENCkeAitCta6FoBevzo/s1600/IMG_20170505_175140_402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiUx1nmX-7yzYvQNFWRxizQVADsqPsTop-vu2ZC9fGvqr6N6-opT4-Nf5ICAk7qPQyztMo1dMLWRkkMIPVpRRJbSAMZTkrkX8bF5H-lMkOH2VCddLJwqa9G1lpENCkeAitCta6FoBevzo/s320/IMG_20170505_175140_402.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at that pig's earless face</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-59777835552438153452017-04-14T18:00:00.001-04:002017-04-14T18:00:54.389-04:00Good (it's) FridayI love Easter weekend. Now. But as a Catholic child I spent most of Easter Week in church from Maundy Thursday to Easter Sunday. No chocolate, no hunt, no Easter Bunny. I had no idea what people were talking about when I went to school and heard about gifts and egg rolling and whatever else people do.<br />
<br />
As an adult it's all about the crazy long weekend and all the junk food I can cram into my Karen-shaped sweatpants. If the weather is nice, I'll walk the dog. If the weather is shitty, I'll watch the Doctor Who marathon on Space. Actually, I know I'll do that even if the weather is great. I'll make Audrey walk the dog.<br />
<br />
Either way, Happy Easter, All! However you celebrate.<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/00/ba/47/00ba474ecc7476ae532e251639e26f3c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/00/ba/47/00ba474ecc7476ae532e251639e26f3c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-5985698288551427662017-02-26T18:53:00.002-05:002017-02-26T18:53:25.888-05:00Ever wonder where you find the time?I've got so much going on right now especially with this new dragonboat team that I'm finding things are falling behind. I mean, I just remembered I had a blog this weekend.<br />
<br />
I've been doing a lot of online shopping in the last little while. I had previously only been shopping for important things. Then I discovered Amazon. From underwear to cosplay accessories, since the beginning of the year I've been expecting something in the mail at least once a week. I love the excitement of getting packages in the mail.<br />
<br />
I also love the Walmart website. Woo, do they have a lot of stuff. Plus groceries! What's not to love? I barely have to leave the house anymore. Except for the dragonboat thing. Always for the dragonboat.<br />
<br />
Sorry... I just got up to clean the oven. Talk about a focus shift. I've been the queen of multitasking lately. It goes with my insane life right now.<br />
<br />
I'm so behind on my podcasts as well. How can I not when I'm subscribed to 33 of them. Holy crap... that's shocking even to me.<br />
<br />
Just got up to make dinner. See? Multitasker. Still, my house is a dusty disaster, my bathroom rivals a bus station's and this afternoon I wore my underwear inside out. Because... reasons.<br />
<br />
Gotta fly... the shit I have to do isn't going to do itself. That reminds me... there's dogshit on the front lawn that's starting to show up through the snow. Ugh. It never ends...<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mTRdOzfbeRGehNnkOD-qV-edV3JiltSUMkEjBcJv0NR-AuZPNXiQSPillqnQtQ7TwM3RHns9x8OBpTE7kbeLp3mHCAhoJmAhiQt5ouqdGl1F7yWKUtJGXU8I0QHj6q5Lt2EYodDiOfc/s1600/Screenshot_20170225-102458.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mTRdOzfbeRGehNnkOD-qV-edV3JiltSUMkEjBcJv0NR-AuZPNXiQSPillqnQtQ7TwM3RHns9x8OBpTE7kbeLp3mHCAhoJmAhiQt5ouqdGl1F7yWKUtJGXU8I0QHj6q5Lt2EYodDiOfc/s320/Screenshot_20170225-102458.png" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favourite "keep me organised" app</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-79009542970498750882017-01-18T19:46:00.000-05:002017-01-18T19:49:26.105-05:00I still love ukulele, I really doBut I have so much trouble leaving the house once I get home from work. It doesn't help that I was up at 5:15 this morning to work out, then headed straight to work where I hit my 10,000 step target at 10:42 this morning. After work I went straight to the chiropractor who told me that my sore shoulder is tendinitis. He told me that I should "stay off it" for a week and ice it. Now how do I reconcile that with the mandatory testing I have to do Sunday? Especially when all 4 exercises at said testing involves repetitive shoulder nonsense? Fuck.<br />
<br />
Anyway, all that to say that I skipped ukulele night yet again. Second month in a row. I hate parking (2 out of 5 times I get a ticket), it's 20 minutes away, it's cold outside, I can't go in my jammies and they song I want to perform is just a smidge too high for me. So when I got home, I just couldn't leave again. I love going, I hate getting there.<br />
<br />
Next month, I promise.<br />
<br />
kxx (I really do love it, I swear)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JbSSRDCi7dami3aKiJNSeSyb3kfLB8l_3MJLXhNWGzwJroHV0vzdIuOUWA57stUgQhvMtXjgZRya6Xbp8W3tTo9XLxAgOLiOr1lDTiibCvZUxwE14CWkIVK8_xlpu3HiSLG1d4p09Vs/s1600/20151118_205853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JbSSRDCi7dami3aKiJNSeSyb3kfLB8l_3MJLXhNWGzwJroHV0vzdIuOUWA57stUgQhvMtXjgZRya6Xbp8W3tTo9XLxAgOLiOr1lDTiibCvZUxwE14CWkIVK8_xlpu3HiSLG1d4p09Vs/s320/20151118_205853.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-43658614272153332232017-01-06T21:22:00.000-05:002017-01-06T21:53:38.313-05:00Happy New Year!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Enjoyed my holidays, thanks for asking. I went to Montreal to visit my daddy...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXHbGmypeEjCemnHmU7wwKnqRDFmTkWdDoDDxs3s5ooMu2yD3WmeS3BdEnnUWQ_vTfVOcZGUciQBl358cAx7cb6itVkfMFUIrbCXdyuJmPOdKj31ZlQSmAODe1rXJYPRZLpT3Teb2jZE/s1600/20161230_113203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXHbGmypeEjCemnHmU7wwKnqRDFmTkWdDoDDxs3s5ooMu2yD3WmeS3BdEnnUWQ_vTfVOcZGUciQBl358cAx7cb6itVkfMFUIrbCXdyuJmPOdKj31ZlQSmAODe1rXJYPRZLpT3Teb2jZE/s320/20161230_113203.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
On New Year's Eve, I did a 5K called The Resolution Run pretty much just because they give out a fleece instead of a tshirt (I need to rethink my motivations)...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsfdRe_aQQHjEXajmuHZOkB0UvW1p4NV7ckrIHT1mAOYi-jmtxqGT4KRaL0aR9gSocf5R1Hw-QmokmuOz_AgMmXMp_EO_z-_TdCwLqXT85sSw4Qx42m1V9tJ6PcjYYlzDbWJvkphW1YE/s1600/20161231_134402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsfdRe_aQQHjEXajmuHZOkB0UvW1p4NV7ckrIHT1mAOYi-jmtxqGT4KRaL0aR9gSocf5R1Hw-QmokmuOz_AgMmXMp_EO_z-_TdCwLqXT85sSw4Qx42m1V9tJ6PcjYYlzDbWJvkphW1YE/s320/20161231_134402.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before...<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMv_q67x7XdlFoyhdC79CYBgvzbiyOSk4VutfzYCafs_bNxNas8u6qy7sabuydVvEvT3j8IQsfvP-9eXo8Pa2nwYeDhZ2Qc_D8kpBBcnb7uA2jyHBtp6k7qv3tLudrF0iic1zlRFzCCY/s1600/20161231_194641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMv_q67x7XdlFoyhdC79CYBgvzbiyOSk4VutfzYCafs_bNxNas8u6qy7sabuydVvEvT3j8IQsfvP-9eXo8Pa2nwYeDhZ2Qc_D8kpBBcnb7uA2jyHBtp6k7qv3tLudrF0iic1zlRFzCCY/s320/20161231_194641.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and after. Look at the frost on my lashes. It was freezing!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I bought 2 pairs of shoes... well, actually just one, The other was a teacher appreciation gift from my school...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm9pG7OK6v5uw9dbt78RLNE241JiXIWi0X535l4KaK-JJDAxaiRl4sv-g5uGtSnTIPYjq5VZlGxTEym19RcrmN7XTpnvEyRiCUpHiol7g0QegtGmUhQ_bW0lzJou_dbmYmTCdzJn6tGss/s1600/20170105_151643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm9pG7OK6v5uw9dbt78RLNE241JiXIWi0X535l4KaK-JJDAxaiRl4sv-g5uGtSnTIPYjq5VZlGxTEym19RcrmN7XTpnvEyRiCUpHiol7g0QegtGmUhQ_bW0lzJou_dbmYmTCdzJn6tGss/s320/20170105_151643.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the appreciation gift...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYX8keaZjmDeiZFO_B98XlZmF-ebv5RN0nM_2MqCkzypMRXi45ohch2VGHQ35VGYcPn1G5yUx5E8hAjsauzT5mdmr29ILGFFCJbhLVoZ0M4vA0xlKL0izDZzy_ReRp_plWINb9WMNlco/s1600/20170105_152114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYX8keaZjmDeiZFO_B98XlZmF-ebv5RN0nM_2MqCkzypMRXi45ohch2VGHQ35VGYcPn1G5yUx5E8hAjsauzT5mdmr29ILGFFCJbhLVoZ0M4vA0xlKL0izDZzy_ReRp_plWINb9WMNlco/s320/20170105_152114.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, *this* is the appreciation gift!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And today is the one year anniversary of me being a dog person. Well, a Westie person. Well, a <b><i>Wesley</i></b> person. I'm still cool to other dogs because mine is the best dog in the entire world. Sooo...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmXRhrm5HhknJHN_wzPY8f5WpRn8vzC-UEZRrm7XI10LRRiWqgHeYti8ICFsloZLrmF9zXuxPZX4ezw6IQ4JHz33ye8Asi1vpTWw9ZzE-hbQPrk3_cndGXROlxkKyriOttpr8fw9Jyggg/s1600/20170106_172305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmXRhrm5HhknJHN_wzPY8f5WpRn8vzC-UEZRrm7XI10LRRiWqgHeYti8ICFsloZLrmF9zXuxPZX4ezw6IQ4JHz33ye8Asi1vpTWw9ZzE-hbQPrk3_cndGXROlxkKyriOttpr8fw9Jyggg/s320/20170106_172305.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He picked this toy himself on a trip to PetSmart...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9Mrn-5VBhd_kIXmbo1nnlclFE6OqD2agj7i8roItSrScEtBbMNnESExUfk303GVeIFMAPaNlAfJkEzisuBEotbKLvD0m_r8aLbS98NKS77QA9T7UR1oIOcLwaQ55ehygOUI5J0KppKY/s1600/20170106_185031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9Mrn-5VBhd_kIXmbo1nnlclFE6OqD2agj7i8roItSrScEtBbMNnESExUfk303GVeIFMAPaNlAfJkEzisuBEotbKLvD0m_r8aLbS98NKS77QA9T7UR1oIOcLwaQ55ehygOUI5J0KppKY/s320/20170106_185031.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made this with 2 of his raw patties, mashed potato frosting and carrots for decoration</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5nKjWaE9ebTdNZCohU-Kw425QzFFFv-bQrmValjBDra79ID9ldTCU1ymB7reRPso2Y9Fm-2j-Z860KWrTU1qyntKS-buL-fYbEOJCr-9WQmODi6JJyNZUh92VgOifNibMO03qxGvA_8/s1600/20170106_172626_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5nKjWaE9ebTdNZCohU-Kw425QzFFFv-bQrmValjBDra79ID9ldTCU1ymB7reRPso2Y9Fm-2j-Z860KWrTU1qyntKS-buL-fYbEOJCr-9WQmODi6JJyNZUh92VgOifNibMO03qxGvA_8/s320/20170106_172626_001.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looka dat face!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So yes, I've had a great first few days of 2017. What about you? I have a few resolutions, too. I plan to (internally) say "be nice" before I speak. I find that I've been getting more and more sarcastic and negative in my old age so to stave it off, I thought I'd think for a split second before I open my mouth. It should last a hot minute.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I also plan to cook more. I've been letting the family fend for itself for a majority of the year's dinners so I thought I'd go back to making meal plans. I'm set for dinners until the end of February, y'all!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Oh, and I resolve never to use "y'all" in this blog again.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
You?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
kxx</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-78857966756875168552016-11-09T19:09:00.001-05:002016-11-09T19:09:09.699-05:00I've been gymming it pretty hard latelyI've mentioned earlier that I've changed dragonboat teams. This new one is doing baseline baseline testing and I'm terrified. Among other things I'm expected to hold a plank position for 3 minutes. That's <i>minutes</i> when my previous plank record was somewhere south of 13 seconds. I wish I was kidding.<br />
<br />
Then they want to know the number of pullups I can do in 90 seconds. Good thing zero is a number. Or is it? I don't math. Oh and I have to bench press half my weight which humiliatingly is nearly 90 pounds. Hey, at least I can do one of those. One single, solitary, painful, grunt (and sometimes fart) inducing bench press. Sad, really.<br />
<br />
So I've been hitting the gym 3 times a week for the last month or do. I'm as sore as anything and not feeling like I'm accomplishing much. I show up to work mincing for an hour on gym days and crash on the couch at the end of the day.<br />
<br />
And just an aside, I was watching the Bachelorette and they had the men doing lumberjack activities. These boys are huge. All buff, muscley and high on protein powder. They definitely spend more time in a gym than your average suburban housewife. Anyway turns out they could barely chop up a regular sized log. Gym strength doesn't always translate to strength in real world tasks. I'm a kick-ass paddler so I pray to be judged on that rather than my one fart filled bench press.<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f9/19/bb/f919bbf44357dac0382620197dcf8234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f9/19/bb/f919bbf44357dac0382620197dcf8234.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-9183440514435017052016-10-15T16:15:00.001-04:002016-10-15T16:16:32.309-04:00I. Am. Canadian.I love to talk about myself. You know that and this whole blog proves it. I'm my own favourite subject. Not news.<br />
<br />
What I hate is when I get asked where I'm from. On the surface it's an innocent question. But from the right (wrong) person, it becomes a loaded question full of assumptions. Yuck.<br />
<br />
Picture it (and it happens like this <i>all the time</i>)... a cute little old lady strikes up a conversation with me. We are talking hair and food and shopping or something mundane. Then it comes:<br />
<br />
<b>Cute Little Old Lady:</b> So where are you from?<br />
<b>Me:</b> <i>(knowing what she means but purposely being obtuse):</i> Montreal.<br />
<b>CLOL:</b> No, I mean where are your<i> people</i> from?<br />
<br />
Look. Does it really matter? We've just had a nice conversation. Who cares if I'm Canadian, West Indian or Klingon? Why is this an important question? Will I be judged if answer "wrong"? What is the deal here?<br />
<br />
I hate that question. I will <i>always</i> hate that question. Because it makes me feel like just being my sparkly wonderful self isn't enough for you. And it should be. I mean, really.<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivl_BbIxA1AZ9TzsNRlCNpt3EqE664QT2J38Y6psaoN3YqNkl3CnDWt1XQnEDVTtfAQRjJVECOt70-wl86JILQcjV8T3z0rXzfy0uE3_QtTaS1VO0lulg3neRJ8cyGw10PoOGJXjwlLw0/s1600/20160701_094903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivl_BbIxA1AZ9TzsNRlCNpt3EqE664QT2J38Y6psaoN3YqNkl3CnDWt1XQnEDVTtfAQRjJVECOt70-wl86JILQcjV8T3z0rXzfy0uE3_QtTaS1VO0lulg3neRJ8cyGw10PoOGJXjwlLw0/s320/20160701_094903.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-16311627720554239772016-10-05T00:12:00.002-04:002016-10-05T00:12:29.156-04:00Out of my comfort zone I goI had my last dragonboat practice on Sunday and I miss it already. It's also my last practice with the club I've always known. I've decided to move on to another club that's more competitive. I'm scared shitless. I've paddled with Ottawa River Canoe Club for 10 years this year and I'm so freaking comfortable there. I've got friends I've known ever since I've picked up a paddle and I<b><i> so </i></b>don't want to leave. But I also want to challenge myself on a team that travels to international competitions and has a tryout process.<br />
<br />
Yikes... <i>Tryouts! </i>Plus nutrition and fitness plans and repercussions if you can't keep up. Double yikes! I know in life you have to take the plunge and do things that scare you but sometimes I think I've been rash about this. And I'm also giving up my coveted and earned "stroke" seat at ORCC (front left) to sit somewhere else with all new teammates. So out of my comfort zone I go but...<br />
<br />
I'm dying inside. My stomach does nauseating slow flips whenever I think about it.<br />
<br />
I've signed up to do yoga classes with my new team (The Ottawa Dragon Masters) just to meet them, shake off the nerves before I hit the water in the spring and I also want them to see my enthusiasm. I hope to show them I'm up to the task. At least I hope I can fake enthusiasm for right now because on the inside I'll be an insecure bundle of nerves. Gotta go. These bricks won't shit themselves.<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi7O0drimGL7vBc3CTzS90bVVnJyks40F5YTtHGEIvjZu2FdW0xr-X7grfaXIAleMksBsu2cQTutKudjyOttYctopFObCm7MdJG2MHc9v3eDFoTnRv94a9t-91rCvg6yorC8l6Lat8e7U/s1600/FB_IMG_1472401149224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi7O0drimGL7vBc3CTzS90bVVnJyks40F5YTtHGEIvjZu2FdW0xr-X7grfaXIAleMksBsu2cQTutKudjyOttYctopFObCm7MdJG2MHc9v3eDFoTnRv94a9t-91rCvg6yorC8l6Lat8e7U/s320/FB_IMG_1472401149224.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-19125173662162543522016-09-24T14:08:00.001-04:002016-09-24T14:08:16.962-04:00A gloriously plan-free dayI don't get many of these but I try to take advantage when I can. And by take advantage I mean make a list of all the things I plan to do, then not do any of them while simultaneously blogging and watching reality tv.<br />
<br />
Here is the list I made last night that I am roundly ignoring:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Laundry (I'm out of undies)</li>
<li>Pedicure (I have polish left on four toes. In all)</li>
<li>Call the jewellery store about the ring I ordered... (Hey! I can do that now just sitting here. Hold on... not ready. Poop. But YAY,<i> One</i> item done off the list)</li>
<li>Bake (my neighbour gave me 2 zukes as long and wide as Arnie's arm so I thought I'd make brownies)</li>
</ul>
I was told once that to feel successful you need to add things to your list that you've already done so here goes:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Eat a bacon sandwich</li>
<li>write a blog post</li>
<li>...</li>
</ul>
<div>
And we're done here.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
kxx</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://18yearsyoung.files.wordpress.com/2015/10/brst-thing-on-a-lazy-saturday-77986722415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://18yearsyoung.files.wordpress.com/2015/10/brst-thing-on-a-lazy-saturday-77986722415.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-69304075713257543792016-09-01T15:42:00.000-04:002016-09-01T15:42:17.638-04:00School starts in 6 daysSummer is nearly over. In fact, there's already a chill in the air (and in my heart) just thinking about it.<br />
<br />
But I don't want to be negative. So here are 10 things I'm looking forward to in the coming months.<br />
<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>My leopard print Snuggie</li>
<li>New tv season</li>
<li>knitting</li>
<li>Christmas</li>
<li>I'll be back on a schedule so the gym and my diet can get back to normal</li>
<li>Um... Oooh! I can drink my lapsang souchong tea again</li>
<li>Doctor Strange and Fantastic Beasts in November and Rogue One in December</li>
<li>hot chocolate</li>
<li>guilt-free couch surfing</li>
<li>I seriously can't think of another one. I want my summer back!</li>
</ol>
<div>
Sorry, that last one was a negative slip. I'm really going to miss summer, though.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Really.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A lot.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
kxx</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://blog.theworks.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/teacher-humor-quotes-meme11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://blog.theworks.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/teacher-humor-quotes-meme11.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-50019126643195847212016-08-17T13:28:00.002-04:002016-08-17T13:28:50.946-04:00Loving the OlympicsI've been watching Olympic coverage since 1976 when Nadia Comaneci got 10s on the uneven parallel bars. But more than the amazing feats of strengths, I love the stories of athletes with amazing hearts.<br />
<br />
-Like the 2 runners that got caught up in each other's cleats and helped each other across the line second last and last. That was in a qualifying heat and the amazing judges let them both go on to the next round.<br />
<br />
-Like the 41 year old gymnast from Uzbekistan. I'm going to spell that out if that didn't sink in. FORTY-ONE.<br />
<br />
-Like the equestrian from the Netherlands whose horse was sick so she bowed out of the competition so he could recover.<br />
<br />
So inspiring and they all get gold for heart. Now I'm watching men's decathlon and holy smokes, these athletes are amazing. They'd be world class at any one of these things but they do 10. They run 100m, 400m, 1500m, hurdles, long jump, high jump, discuss, shot put, pole vault and javelin. Isn't that fucking <i>insane</i>?<br />
<br />
Family and I had a good laugh thinking about other crazy events. We couldn't stop laughing at the thought of having a "mystery decathlon". The athletes would show up at the Olympics not knowing what 10 events they'd be competing in. They just put everything in a hat and draw them. Picture their faces as their events get pulled.<br />
<br />
Archery!<br />
<br />
Judo!<br />
<br />
Weightlifting!<br />
<br />
Dressage!<br />
<br />
Ping Pong!<br />
<br />
Steeplechase!<br />
<br />
Race Walking!<br />
<br />
Boxing!<br />
<br />
BMX!<br />
<br />
Rhythmic Gymnastics!<br />
<br />
I'm giggling at the thought. The mind tends to wander as they cut away from decathlon to golf and back.<br />
<br />
After all this there is still 4 days left. I wonder what other stories they have in store. Are there any stories you loved from the Olympics thus far? What's your favourite sport to watch? All? None? This is the only time I'm a sports fan so you won't be insulting me...<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://data.whicdn.com/images/34126393/large.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://data.whicdn.com/images/34126393/large.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-61270264852532878702016-07-28T14:55:00.000-04:002016-07-28T14:55:23.009-04:00AYOY! CALISSE de TABARNAK!!!!Doesn't <i>everyone</i> swear in French Canadian when they get hurt?<br />
<br />
So while <strike>skydiving</strike> <strike>bungee jumping</strike> <strike>okay fine</strike> towelling off Friday, I tweaked my back. And by tweaked, I mean fucked it up real bad. After crying naked on the bathroom floor a while, feeling sorry for myself (I was alone), I managed to drag my sorry, damp, ass to the medicine cabinet. I took a bunch of Advil, Robaxicet and rubbed some Lakota on it for good measure. Today is Thursday and it still feels delicate. The chiropractor took a whack at it, trying to manhandle it into place but it still feels like it may go again at any minute. You know it's bad when I had to skip not one but 2 dragonboat practices. Merde.<br />
<br />
All that to say to you youngsters <b><i><u>don't get old</u></i></b>.<br />
<br />
As it's throwback Thursday, I thought I'd share this old post about how I nearly<a href="http://kayeway.blogspot.ca/2010/02/men-cant-live-with-them-cant-smother.html" target="_blank"> committed justifiable homicide</a> on Scott one time when he was sick. I think the secret of a long marriage is being able to curb those murderous impulses, don't you?<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/MjAxMy0xMmY1ZWYxNWM0MDRlMDBm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/MjAxMy0xMmY1ZWYxNWM0MDRlMDBm.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-83436057623087700432016-07-25T16:16:00.000-04:002016-07-25T16:16:42.804-04:00Pokemon GoYes, I play it. Yes, I'm an adult. Usually.<br />
<br />
Yesterday I joined a bunch of fellow nerds on a Pokemon hunt. As we wandered the streets on that beautiful day with our heads looking down at our phones, we notice a pokestop. We wander over and notice that it was a skate park. It was pretty popular. too.<br />
<br />
So there I was, with 10 other "adults", playing a child's game on my phone, while 15 kids zoomed around on bikes and skateboards, phones safely in their... wherever kids keep phones. So that happened.<br />
<br />
You'd think that would shame me into not playing anymore but it didn't. now where are they hiding those Pikachu?<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_rGX0fCNdCAAqhUCvDauD-cuX2EUW-gOvqhF67tZW2EwkJMYFmrB71iuaXsxGKmzpmrYINdid3r4Idpjszccgc6JktWgXfSPTNbuWL3CxdqKWIN__sKxhQe-RHuLnjWnJ1WRsHrUkBkc/s1600/20160724_153642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_rGX0fCNdCAAqhUCvDauD-cuX2EUW-gOvqhF67tZW2EwkJMYFmrB71iuaXsxGKmzpmrYINdid3r4Idpjszccgc6JktWgXfSPTNbuWL3CxdqKWIN__sKxhQe-RHuLnjWnJ1WRsHrUkBkc/s320/20160724_153642.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is us.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJS0tc10lwKTz1bMiHg5CnX65XraXoBH4q1iFCUhVB8_6gN-KaBCsY2R5226_xrTf5eHaK_DuPa_dMU98QFHQ6nTdHQB8MadNjlwg_moU6uJiqkuIcS-kdEvp6v8vtTxNWTnKM3j-lfQ/s1600/20160724_153635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJS0tc10lwKTz1bMiHg5CnX65XraXoBH4q1iFCUhVB8_6gN-KaBCsY2R5226_xrTf5eHaK_DuPa_dMU98QFHQ6nTdHQB8MadNjlwg_moU6uJiqkuIcS-kdEvp6v8vtTxNWTnKM3j-lfQ/s320/20160724_153635.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And here are a few of the kids. Sigh...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1982401318859910635.post-3709486262663487112016-07-22T18:46:00.000-04:002016-07-22T18:46:32.604-04:00Don't you love amazing customer service?So this amazing story of customer service happened and instead of explaining it all, I'll just repost the letter I wrote to their customer service helpdesk. I'm sure people only contact these places to complain so I was happy to write this glowing letter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>General service issues<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Karen K <mamashake@gmail.com><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>21 Jul (1 day ago)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>to customerservice <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Hello!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Where do I start?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I was confused about the lip ink colour I wanted so I went
to your Facebook page, telling them what I wanted and asking for suggestions. I
got a reply within a day and ordered it right away. Wow #1.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I placed an order with you for a red lip stain (fire red)
and a black eyebrow liner. On your website it said to expect the package in 6
to 8 weeks. My items arrived today. In 10 days. Wow #2.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Within a day of placing the above order, I got a call (on
the telephone!) from a service rep asking if I'd used your products before, and
whether I knew what to expect (re: tingling and the multi-step process). We had
a laugh and a nice chat and she really knew her stuff and was a pleasure to
talk to. Wow #3.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>When I eagerly ripped open my packet this afternoon, I saw
the lip colour I ordered, the brow liner I purchased and several <b>extras</b>. A
beautiful (and I mean freaking gorgeous fuchsia colour that I wouldn't have
ordered myself), a small packet of shine moisturiser, an off towellete, some
magic powder, and a whole container of Off! I could barely believe my eyes. Wow
#4<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>All this to say that I've never in my life had such good
service either online or in person. Keep up the amazing work and I'll for sure
tell all my friends about you (more than I already have). I write a blog and
I'll definitely mention you there as well. You really are a special company and
everyone needs to know this.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Karen K<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Ottawa, Ontario, Canada<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
So I'm telling everyone right now, if you want terrific lip colour that doesn't come off (and I mean does NOT come off unless you take it off), Google "<a href="http://www.lipink.com/" target="_blank">Lip Ink International</a>". It is a seriously fantastic product. And if you have errr.... delicate eyebrows like yours truly, you should try the stuff I just got "brow liner". I went dragonboating in it and I still look like <a href="http://citycalm.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/cara-delv.jpg" target="_blank">Cara Delevingne</a>. Again, you have to use the remover they suggest, or your're sleeping with your eyebrows (sounds like a terrible movie). I feel happy and spoiled by these people.<br />
<br />
kxx<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtyDjHI6gAcCnIM4aVXn3jpU9FZH7zjvocAwcLJargurz3znr0l9XDcA3529Y738eJo-QeVZEAI2vcShChkfe7Y7V7DmjMU6J1kxaSjPqYZu1GR5YUbkLa-akut3x54f5hvtlHtoAAbo/s1600/20160722_181541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEtyDjHI6gAcCnIM4aVXn3jpU9FZH7zjvocAwcLJargurz3znr0l9XDcA3529Y738eJo-QeVZEAI2vcShChkfe7Y7V7DmjMU6J1kxaSjPqYZu1GR5YUbkLa-akut3x54f5hvtlHtoAAbo/s320/20160722_181541.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm wearing the fuchsia lipstain and the fake eyebrows. Nice, right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />Karen Kayehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12804149363904234516noreply@blogger.com0