Tag Archives: Pop

by

I’m finishing my coffee. Enjoying my coffee.

Hello you fab chaps!

Well, here we are, looking back on another week lived, facing the beautiful blank slate (oh how I wish!) of the approaching weekend.

I love Fridays because I truly believe they have life re-generating powers.

And what, might you ask, are other (real-life) things that share those same invigorating powers?

For the answer to this question, please look no further than THIS:

IMG_20130426_062803

OKAY.

I drink coffee every day. I wouldn’t say that I drink a TON of the stuff – for instance, between Monday and Friday I drink a vanilla latte every morning, and come the weekend, I drink at least one cup of java (but never more than two), upon rising from my bed of rest.

In my humble opinion, there is no better way to herald the breaking dawn than with a piping hot mug of milky, sweet espresso.

(Urg, I feel weird just using the term “breaking dawn.” DAMN YOU TWILIGHT!)

Weekend coffees have become even more deluxe of late, what with the addition of a Nespresso milk steamer/frother to our kitchen gadget repertoire.

(Full disclosure: other than our raclette machine and a decrepit old blender, said repertoire is pretty darn bleak.)

Anyway, now that I have purchased the above pictured vanilla syrup, I really feel like our adventures into the world of joe are just going to EXPLODE.

Think of the possibilities!

Vanilla steamed milk for nights when I’m feeling eight hundred years old!

London fogs for mornings when I’m feeling particularly Dickensian!

Vanilla café au laits for every other time other than the two I’ve mentioned above!

ALL RIGHT.

Also.

Do you know what is the actual exact opposite of what I have just described above?

THIS:

IMG_20130425_174436

BLECH.

Who decided to make diet Crush cream soda happen?

They should be publicly shamed, and then sent to Baffin Island for twenty-years of hard labour.

Talk about toxic waste in a can.

Yeah, yeah, I realize that pop of any kind isn’t exactly a staple of a healthy, organic (blahblahblah) lifestyle, but JEEZE LOUISE.

Somethings are sacred!

And by somethings, I mean CRUSH CREAM SODA.

Won’t somebody please think of my childhood?

In other news…

What the heck is going on here:

IMG_20130423_072402

Do people have hundreds (or thousands) of loonies and toonies just lying about, clogging up their living space?

Is this a worry that people have?

“Oh sorry Jim, I would totally have you over, but my place is just over-run with coinage. Thank goodness Metro News has provided me with the tools I need to combat this problem head on!”

Good grief.

I never, ever have cash, let alone enough change to fill out an entire bank roll.

But a girl can dream, can she not?

And if I’m going to spend my life dreaming, I am going to do it dressed like THIS:

IMG_20130419_182248

Fifteen dollar pants?

CHECK.

Paddington Bear coat?

CHECK.

A date with a microphone, stage, and comedy-hungry audience?

Checkcheckcheck.

…

So what’s on the docket for all you beauty cats this weekend?

And what drink will you be having?

Do be sure to tell me, because I’m taking orders.

by

I came to the training house looking for a fight

Three things of which I am not ashamed.

1.) I am a recovering anorexic and bulimic.

Sometimes – although very rarely now – after I finish eating a meal, a little voice inside my head tells me to throw everything up.

Sometimes – although very rarely now – after a week of rest, a little voice inside my head tells me that my inactivity has rendered me ugly and powerless.

Sometimes – although very rarely now – I feel as though my skin is itself crawling the length of my body, and that none of my clothes fit my frame.

Sometimes – although very rarely now – I’m afraid to leave the house for fear of others looking at me.

Sometimes it’s hard.

Every day it’s getting better.

One foot in front of the other…

2.) I firmly believe in the importance of first impressions.

Don’t get me wrong, I also believe in second chances, but nothing leaves a mark like an awkward or obnoxious round one in, shall we say, the boxing ring of life.

And in the end, after the bell has run twice, if I still don’t warm to you, I’m probably not going to stick around and try to play-act nice.

I’ll probably just punch your lights out.

(I kid, I kid.)

I mean, I’m not going to treat you like a right-arse, or anything to that effect – I will be polite, or professional, or formal (or a combination of all three), but then I’ll get the heck out.

My cat is also incredibly picky about the individuals with whom she associates.

Plus, if I don’t dig your style, you probably don’t dig mine. It’s a mutual thing, right? It’s not me, it’s you – and vice versa.

I fight tooth and nail for those that I love (in said boxing ring of life), and I put a ton of energy into championing them and their causes. As such, I would prefer to invest my time and resources into helping those individuals.

I am finally at a place in my life where I have stopped completely wrecking myself over what others think of me (I am now known to only marginally wreck myself.)

And I’d like to keep going down this path.

3.) I love, LOVE pop music.

I sing along to Carly Rae Jepsen ALL THE DAMN TIME. On repeat.

I like Robyn.

I like Lady Gaga.

I like LMFAO.

(Seriously, everyday I’m shuffling.)

I love cheesey, dance-crazy, pump-up-the-radio-and-SING music.

(I like other music too, but come summertime? GIVE ME BEATS THAT MAKE MY FEET TAPA-TAP-TAP AND TEETH ACHE FROM A SUGARY SYRUP OVERLOAD.)

And if you ever pull up next to me in your car, at some random stoplight, betwixt the months of June and August?

You’ll see.

There’s no power in the ‘verse can stop me.