Category: To whom it may concern

Smoking, or non?

I did a lot of crazy stuff as a kid.

(This probably shouldn’t come as a surprise to any of you.)

In grade two, Ms. Nolan (full disclosure: I LOVED HER) asked us to bring in props for our “class store.” We were going to learn how to add and subtract integers through the purchase of goods on sale in our shop.

The student buying the products would have to add up the price of their groceries, while the cashier would have to calculate the correct change owed.

As a class, we were darned excited about this math unit.

Now, other kids brought in cereal boxes, soup cans (that had been – responsibly – cleaned and dried), kraft dinner packages, and egg cartons.

And what, you may be asking yourselves, did young Ethel bring to the project?

A jumbo box of Eggo waffles and an (empty, thank goodness) twelve-pack of Labatt Blue.

That’s class with a K right there folks.

For all you non-Canucks out there, LB is a kind of beer. And a pretty bad beer at that. (Actually, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t even exist anymore.)

Ms. Nolan must have been pretty flabbergasted, especially because our grade four buddies had come down to help us set up shop (literally) and bunch of them were play-acting drunk, slurring their words and taking pretend swigs from the bottles.

Needless to say, most of my props went home with me that day.

Though the Eggos stayed.

Flash-forward to grade five. We had a student teacher named Michael, who was wonderful and completely lovely.

He was patient and soft-spoken, was always excited and dressed really well.

(In my memory he’s about fifty-nine, but in reality the guy couldn’t have been older than twenty-six.)

And as a class, we used to make him sweat like long-tailed cat in a room filled with rocking chairs.

And I, I was a chief culprit of this stress (though not of my own volition or intention.)

Like I said, I just did weird stuff!

Case in point:

One of the assignments he got us involved with was a cross-Canada anti-smoking campaign, which was also a competition to see who, out of all the elementary students across the country, could create the best anti-smoking poster and catch phrase.

In order to participate, you had to finish the sentence: “If you smoke – …”

I’ll never forget the winner from the previous year, because my ten year old self thought it was absolutely freaking brilliant, and the poster looked like it had been drawn by a professional artist.

The winning poster read:

If you smoke, you’ll be hooked!

The accompanying picture was that of a really sad killer whale being fish-hooked by an evil (and obviously soulless) smoking henchman.

Aha, I thought to myself. This was what we had to live up to!

So what did I pull together you might ask? Did all my hard work ensure my victory?

Well, I’ll let you decide for yourself.

My slogan was: If you smoke, you’re just a butt!

Genius, right?

I mean, who would want to do anything that reminded them of bums? No one, that’s who!

My poster, while a little avant-garde, was sure to wow the judges.

This is (a recreation of) what I drew:

That’s a border of cigarette butts by the way.

Needless to say, I think Michael may have had a heart attack when he saw this.

He kindly let me know that there was no way, not for all the tea in China, that he was letting me send in a poster that depicted a bare ass smoking a cigarette.

I fought back hard.

Couldn’t he see how much effort I had put into it? Yes he could, he told me. Couldn’t he see where I was coming from? Yes he could, he told me. Didn’t he like my border of cigarette butts? Yes he did, he told me. Didn’t he think that the thought of putting your mouth on a bum would make kids not want to ever smoke a single cigarette in their entire life? Yes he did, he told me.

At this point I remember his face getting really red – not from anger I’m sure – but more from the fact that if he didn’t laugh soon, his entire head would explode.

In the end, I received an A on the project and I got to keep my slogan, but I had to go home that night and make a new poster.

So this was the one I sent into the competition:

(The stars are the cigarette butts – I was too lazy to draw them out again.)

Needless to say, I didn’t win.

But hey, it wasn’t a total wash. In fact, looking on the bright side, I don’t smoke, and if I ever hear someone say that a person has a “smoking ass” – well – only I know the real truth of the matter.

But like I said, crazy stuff guys.

CRAZY STUFF.

I’ve found a driver and that’s a start

Happy Wednesday you winsome and wonderful weirdos! I don’t know what I’d do without you.

So here are five things that make my little heart smile:

Lunch dates with my rad mates.

On Tuesday Ms. A, Ms J. (good grief, do I sound like Tyra Banks?), and I had lunch at one of Vancouver’s newer food carts – Mom’s Grilled Cheese.

These roaming food wagons are getting more and more prevalent – especially around the downtown core where we work – and offer a huge amount of choice in terms of menu options.

It’s not just chili cheese dogs and cans of coke anymore, folks.

You can get Vietnamese subs, shawarma, Asian-fusion, Ukrainian pierogies (who knew that spell check doesn’t know what a pierogi is!?), pulled-pork sandwiches, BBQ – seriously the list, like Rip van Winkle’s beard, grows ever long.

(Man, I can’t believe that the most hip facial hair reference I could think of is a make-believe dude who slept a lot!)

Yeesh.

Anywho, grilled cheese was eaten; grilled cheese was loved.

SO blinkin’ good! And they give you a pickle!

By all three us.

I ordered Swiss with tomato on multi-grain.

Cor. Absolutely delicious that was. If you ever visit the truck, and you’re wracked by indecision – give that a go.

You won’t be disappointed.

Trying on pretty pretties.

Today at lunch I bopped about the usual circuit (Vancity’s downtown/shopping business district) with the usual suspects (Ms. J + friends) and I tried on this dress:

This dress made me feel like the queen of hearts.

And then this one:

All aboard the covered wagon dears!

It’s funny, because in the store I felt like I was veering towards the red (I didn’t buy either) – but now that I’m looking at these photos, I’m particularly drawn to the white.

When it was on me, I thought I looked super “Little House on the Prairie”, but now I’m thinking more along the lines of “Pilgrim chic.”

I’m not sure – I’m turning over the issue to the experts.

(aka YOU!)

Either way, it’s always fun when you have someone with whom you can motor, who also is game to play dress up in the middle of your work day.

It’s a great way unwind, albeit briefly.

Plus it gives you the chance to say things like, “does this look like a giant bedazzled compression sock?”

Just. Not good…plus the jeans made me look like a headbanger-carney!

To which the answer is always, yes.

Yes it does.

Tulips.

Spring means many things here in Lotus Land.

It heralds the arrival of the chickadee dee dees – and other bird friends – who have recently returned from their tropical, winter sojourn. You can hear them in the morning as you draw back the blinds, or the moment you step out your front door as you leave for work.

It also means a boat load of rain – but I don’t want to write about.

I want to write about all the amazing tulips that have sprouted everywhere! Their colours are so rich and vibrant, I can practically feel my heart swelling inside my chest every time I see them.

Tulips make my two lips SMILE!

I also have tricky fingers and want to pick all of them, so I have to walk by quickly, for fear of snatching them all to myself.

(And therefore also the police. I fear them too.)

Nail polish.

I don’t paint my fingernails all too often. So when I do, I always feel as though I’ve accomplished something pretty cool.

In fact, I’m always a little startled that no one presents me with a plaque to mark the occasion.

The other night, as M and I sat in front of the fire (yes! A fire at the beginning of May! I am just as appalled as you are!) I painted my nails a sort of aubergine-maroon colour.

It was Professor Plum, in the car, with M’s camera.

And I like it!

A lot.

(Way more than I do the idea of a fire in May that’s for darned sure.)

Tina Fey.

I just finished reading Bossypants and boy did I ever enjoy it. The lovely Emily of Well Fed, Flat Broke lent me her copy and I pretty much hovered it up over the last two days.

Ms. Fey is hilarious.

There were pages that just kept me laughing non-stop. It was also nice to read about a woman with whom I really identify.

We’re not the same person by any stretch of the imagination, but so much of what she writes about, I found myself nodding along, feeling like I could relate to much of what she was talking about.

(Except of course working at a bleak-as-hell YMCA in Chicago during the early 1990s. Of that I have little knowledge or experience.)

SO GOOD.

 I also have a massive crush on her and Amy Poehler’s friendship. Is that possible? Can you covet a best friendship?

Memo to all my real-life friends: Get cooler. And fast.

(I kid, I kid. If you were any cooler, you’d all be ice cold.*)

*In my mind I sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger when I say that.

Yikes! I must get back on track. SO – if you’re thinking of picking up the book, do it, do it!

You won’t regret it.

Unless of course your name rhymes with Parah Salin. Then, maybe, stay away.

…

So there you have it, you wacko beauty cats! Five things that bring me the lolz and smiles.

I hope they could bring you some too.

Don’t stand. Don’t stand so close to me.

So after all that writing about tofu, I realized I had a great desire to wok and roll. Indeed folks, the time was nigh to whip up a classic tofu stir-fry for Mr. M and I.

It’s been such a crazy start to the week – in fact, I cannot believe that today is only Tuesday – and I wanted something healthy, and tasty, and that I could put together with my eyes closed.

If Ju-On can cook, so can you!

And since I wasn’t too keen on the idea of eating banana bread for dinner (only because I ate half of a lemon meringue pie for my supper last night), stir-fry it was.

À la tofu.

This morning, while riding skytrain, I did two things – two things that can be perfectly summed up by just one word:

Mortification.

Holy doodle, it’s a boon and a half that I don’t embarrass easily.

First, I was SO into my crossword that I actually drooled onto my paper.

Or maybe it got on my purse – I’m not sure.

And although it wasn’t a ton of drool, and I desperately tried to keep it in, once I realized that I was leaking from my mouth – alas.

To no avail.

I’m pretty sure the girl sitting to my right was busting a gut for all of Canada, because the seat was vibrating pretty steadily for the next ten minutes.

(The fact that I too was laughing my face off could also have something to do with this.)

I couldn’t look up for the life of me, for fear that I would make eye contact with someone else who had espied my errant behavior because this would have undoubtedly propelled me into the most epic case of the “laughs” ever recorded in the history of the world, from which, I’m sure, I would never have recovered.

Then, about five minutes later (although in my completely cracked mind it seemed like these events happened simultaneously) my umbrella got loose from where it was resting between my knees.

I watched it fall in almost slow motion – although again in real life it was moving at quite a clip.

(This along with its steep angle of trajectory alarmed me.)

It kept tumbling forward, before making contact with the the legs (or you know, bum cheeks) of the man standing in front of me, only to come to rest, wedged in his crotchular area.

This, in the parlance of our times was very, very awkward.

Like, the most ever.

EVER.

The look he gave me may have taken years off of my life.

Good thing all that laughing just piles them back on.

So there you have it. My Tuesday started out on a high point, hilarity-wise, and will end on an equally stellar note, health and taste-wise.

And knowing M and I – there will be a ton more laughs too.

Let’s get down to business:

The goods.

Chop it!

These colours - in whatever form I find them in - always make me smile.

Wok it!

I really appreciate to no end the number of puns you can create with the word wok.

Sauce it!

Keep it simple. Keep it safe.

Add spinach:

Leaf it up!

But seriously, add more:

Like you mowed the lawn and then made a meal out of the clippings!

For a brilliant, final result of:

Multi-coloured noms! The best kind (but also lemon meringue pie.)

So there you have it folks – tofu stir-fry for the skytrain rider’s soul.

How were your Tuesdays? Anything crazy happen around your parts?

I would really, really love to hear about it.

Dear Buddha, please bring me a pony

Tonight has brought cool spring showers, and warm toasty fires.

I had the pleasure of speaking at a Big Sisters fundraiser today after work.

I’ve been a Big for three and a half years, and recently signed up to be a media program ambassador. Basically I get to go to different events and extol the virtues of this seriously amazing, life changing organization.

The tank top I made for the half-marathon I ran to raise funds for Big Sisters.

This role is great fun, and is rad as heck. I love working with this association, and want to do whatever I can in my power to raise awareness and funds for their different initiatives, while at the same time stoking, or perhaps piquing the interest of potential Bigs.

It was such a pleasure to chat with the attendees after I had given my speech, and relay a bit more about my relationship with my Little, and what is required of all prospective volunteers.

After a long day at work, and then participating in the fundraiser, it is pretty nice to be sitting here with Ms. Nymeria and Mr. M.

The fam.

We’re watching Serenity while working, and purring, and writing, and planning.

Boy do I ever love me some Captain Tight-Pants. (For those of you unsure as to what I’m talking about, I promise you, it’s not my husband.)

And I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of the Oaty Bar theme song either.

NOT MANDATORY.

Also, Nathan Fillion re-tweeted me the other day, which was pretty darn fabitty fab in the extreme.

Today I went back to Club Monaco to purchase my sparkly, pleated beauty skirt. Of course, since I’m a complete broomhead, I forgot my student card, so I ended up having to put it on hold for purchase tomorrow.

And you better believe that I will be there with bells on (along with the proper funds and student ID requirements.)

It will be mine, oh yes.

My precious.

One Skirt to rule them all; One Skirt to find them; One Skirt to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.

Soon. VERY soon. Preeeccciiiiooouuussss.

I mean…

What was I saying?

Oh yes. I will keep you abreast on this story (and my madness) as it progresses.

Also, I am very proud to say that I ate a healthy breakfast this morning.

Or at least healthy by my standards, Mlle. Beignet au Pomme.

Granny smith apple and organic crunchy almond butter? Cor, I am in absolute heaven.

Nommers.

(Just for the sake of full disclosure, I want to stress that I didn’t eat the entire container of almond butter. I may have wanted to, but I’m proud to say that restraint was exercised.)

So there you have it.

Today is Tuesday.

There is a new government in Alberta, with the first female premier elected as head of the province; Ontario remains just beyond the cusp of an election, and Quebec may soon be heading down the same road.

Also we’ll see what happens in France as they move into their next phase of voting.

Oh, and Yertle the Turtle, a great picture book written by DR. SEUSS has been banned from B.C. Classrooms for being “too political.”

Erm.

HEAVY STUFF. Like, this and the Satanic Verses are basically the same thing.

It would seem the phrase, “I know up on top you are seeing great sights, but down here on the bottom, we too should have rights” is too contentious a topic for the province’s youn, impressionable, and highly malleable minds.

Someone get me a fainting couch, because I’m clutching my pearls for all of Canada.

What do you all think, my lovely readers? Have we finally crossed the line?

And how was your Tuesday?

I want to hear all about it.

And extra points if you can do it in rhyme.

There was a star danced, and under that was I born

Hey kids,

I’m going to apologize right off the bat for a post that is going to be a ridiculous mishmash of thoughts, ideas, pictures, and song.

It’s like a “we need to eat these leftovers before they go bad” casserole, over here.

I’m throwing anything and everything into this dish. So just let me know if you need some ketchup, or BBQ sauce, or what have you.

I’ll be on it.

It is Monday after all.

And, do you know how I know dear readers, that today was in fact a Monday?

I’ll tell you.

You see, this was my breakfast:

Corrrrrr....YES.

And this was my lunch:

MAH NOMS.

Not exactly the healthiest of choices, heavens no, but certainly one of the tastiest. I know I’ve written about these apple fritters before, and I just need to reiterate one more time just how fricken stellar they truly are.

And because they are the size of a small cat, they pretty much count as two meals in one.

I know, I know – NOT HEALTHY!

But oh, so delicious.

Because I’m running around at work like a running around working thing, today at lunch I made an effort to pry myself away from my desk and go for a walk.

When I’m not laughing myself into six pack abs trying on the absolute barmiest outfit combinations I can find, I like to torture myself by modelling all the beautiful pieces of clothing I will never be able to afford.

Sometimes I stroll through Holt Renfrew at a snail’s pace, staring into the Prada showroom, devouring all the couture gowns that hang off of the mannequins, or are draped over banquettes and loveseats (or the arms of a wealthy patron.)

I tell you, it’s a pretty interesting sensation to ride the escalator behind someone whose bloody SUNGLASSES are worth more than your entire ensemble.

It’s also a little scary.

Today I tried on this skirt from Club Monaco.

Sparkles! Pleats! LOVE!

I must say that I kind of really loved it.

AND, it was sixty percent off – though by no means cheap (even still after the discount), it had pleats and sparkles, which are pretty much my favourite things ever when it comes to clothing accoutrements, so I think I will have to go back tomorrow and purchase it.

As long as I don’t find something even more sparkly and pleated in the interim.

(I’m a bit like a hummingbird in that way. My attention span can be quickly taken over by -Ooerrr…SHINEY THINGS!)

Speaking of moving from one thing to the next without absolutely zero transition, please,  PLEASE, listen to this song by Sarah Slean, about which I currently cannot get enough of:

I have been a dancing woman since getting home today, listening to it on repeat.

(I don’t even know how many times I’ve listened to it while writing this post. I’ve completely lost count.)

If I was currently using my ipod at the gym, this would be the only thing on my running playlist.

It actually makes me so happy I feel like crying.

And I know that’s pretty cheesy and all, and sometimes I feel like I oscillate wildly from one emotion to the next, and I do regularly find myself so overcome by events that transpire all over the world (pretty much to the point of paralysis), but I am also aware of how much beauty I have in my life, and how fortunate I am in so many ways.

Despite of course, having two-toned hair from my (continually craptastic) dye job.

The seal is for marksmanship and the gorilla is for sand racing.

Seriously guys, what is wrong with me? How am I so, SO bad at this?

Yikes.

In the meantime, however, let’s just keep dancing.

And eating apple fritters.

And sparkling. Like stars.

Until the day we supernova; fade away.