Thanks for the dance

Yesterday I didn’t have too great of a day.

I worked too much, and didn’t eat enough.

What I did eat was absolute garbage, and mostly just consisted of one thing: doughnuts.

I arrived home way past my usual ETA – deflated, rain-splattered, and exhausted.

Holed up on the couch, I ate some carrots, and watched a few episodes of Arrested Development, before schlepping my rickety bones up to bed.

By 9 o’clock I was out like a light.

And oh how I slept.

Today, thank goodness, was different.

The rain was good enough to stay away, and my workload was manageable.

I even only ate one doughnut. ONE!

(Seriously, any day where I stick to one dessert per meal is a win in my books.)

It’s also my big sister’s birthday.

I miss this beauty cat more than you could possibly know, and it makes my little heart sad knowing that I cannot be with her to help her celebrate. However, I take solace in knowing that in but a few short weeks I will be there in New York PARTYING IT DOWN, feting her wedding like my life depends on it.

So happy birthday Kate! You are the most magnificent big sis a gal could ever hope for.

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In other wonderful news, today I met up with Ms. Laura Beth of Perched on a Whim AND IT WAS AWESOME.

Inspiring.

Hilarious.

And just plain old fabulous.

She is in town visiting with her husband, and I was lucky enough to catch her before they took off for the wild, bewildering beauty of Whistler village.

I couldn’t have asked for a better lunch hour.

Sometimes you meet people and everything just clicks. It’s easy – the conversation, the rhythm, the energy.

Our time together, although brief, left me energized and enthused.

What an amazing thing that we could connect through our writing, and have the chance to meet each other in person.

The world truly is a magical place!

AND YOU GUYS.

My first blogger meet up!

This just means I will get to meet more of you, right?

Because goodness knows you all do light up my life.

So happy Wednesday folks.

I couldn’t do it without you.

Come on baby light my fire

Hey all you crazy cats!

It’s time for another installment of the Friday Fry-Up. But first, before we get into the meat of the matter, I need to ask you all one question:

What fresh hell is going on around these here parts temperature-wise?

It is ruddy freezing!

I mean, here I am, it’s June, and I am sitting in front of my fireplace, and it has a bloody fire in it.

A fire!

In JUNE!

What. The. Eff.

Anywho, strange things are a-brewing, and until the wind changes I suppose we’re continuing on course for more madness and foul weather.

So let’s solider on!

First on the docket:

Awful doughnuts.

Yesterday, after eating a super healthy lunch, I went and bought five timbits from ye old church of Canadiana (aka Tim Hortons) – because noting tastes better after a cracking salad like those sweet little glazed balls of heaven.

I got in line with the six hundred and ninety-two other crazed patrons and waited to have my order taken. After waiting roughly twelve years, I reached the front of the cue and placed my bets.

Er.

Placed my order.

I asked for two honey cruller, two sour cream glazed, and one chocolate glazed.

(Urg, I never know why I bother ordering that solitary chocolate timbit because it is never, ever tastes all that great. Slightly stale and just…missing something.)

The first two however are far and away the two top offerings available at ole’ Timmy Hos – seriously, take my word for it, I am a card-carrying timbit connoisseur.

Here is the honey cruller:

Nom.

It was dee-lish.

However, I was pretty disappointed when I bit into the other donut hole because low and behold it was not my beloved sour cream but old fashioned glazed.

Blech.

YUCKAMUNDO.

That crap tastes like bread soaked in expired dish soap.

DO NOT WANT.

(Full disclosure – obviously I’ve never eaten a Sunlight saturated baguette before – so don’t get any ideas! It’s a simile you smug bastards.)

And it was a bummer!

So all in all, out of five treats, I had three, but only enjoyed two. This is not exactly world-destroying events here, but like I said, I feel as though the universe is subtly letting me know that things aren’t exactly in balance these days.

Second on the docket:

Joe Fresh Fashion.

Now normally I am a pretty big proponent of Mr. Fresh and the clothing for sale at his establishments. I’ve bought some terrific stuff that I continue to enjoy, both for work and pleasure. However, if you visit one of his stores at the moment you might be surprised to see an overabundance of bat-shit weird, weird stuff.

Like this Finnish flag inspired shirt:

KOIVU!

Or this “Is it clothing, or a walking magic eye puzzle?” dress:

It’s always some stupid sailboat.

Or this neon orange disco suit:

I – I just don’t know anymore.

(I also think that they were implying that you would wear the suit with the paisley green collared shirt.)

Seriously, at what LSD binge were these pieces not only designed, but then sewed together as utterly wacko separates!?

Also, can we mayhaps make an effort to stick to one decade to “bring back” at a time? I was one to believe that we are currently experiencing a resurgence of 90s nostalgia, so let’s keep the 70s and 80s at bay for the next little while – at the very least (we don’t need to bring them back at all, if that option is still available.)

Speaking of which – PEPLUM.

Guys.

No.

Just no.

They are hip flaps.

They are Malibu Barbie.

They are winged menstrual pads, designed as a dress.

They are no.

Just yell no like you mean it, and then just run away!

NO!

Moving on.

Third on the docket.

The Cranberries.

Speaking of flashbacks, the other day I was getting ready for work, listening to CBC radio 2 as I am often wont to do in the am. As I stepped out of the shower, I caught the very tail end of the song “Dreams” and I had a very affecting flashback to the day I finished grade five and I heard the group’s song “Zombie” for the ever first time.

Man, I loved that song.

(Is it just me, or did music – for the most part – mean a hell of a lot more in the 90s than it does now?)

I remember taping (!!!) that song off of the radio and listening to it on repeat for hours and hours and hours.

I always laugh to think of myself as the crazy tall, gangly awkward nerd who would half walk, half dance around singing Soundgarden, and Pink Floyd around the school hallways.

I remember discovering Smashing Pumpking in grade four. I heard “Today” being played from my sister’s bedroom while practicing highland dancing in my basement.

In grade six I saw the music video for Beck’s Loser. Kind of weirded out, but also really intrigued, I asked my friends if they would buy me the CD for my upcoming birthday. They did, and it was AWESOME.

In grade seven, sitting in Mr. Bell’s English class, Simon Eisler played Weezer’s Buddy Holly for our “Song as Poem” class project. I rushed home, found my sister’s Weezer CD and listened to the song on repeat for probably the next three years.

Maybe music didn’t necessary mean more in the 90s on the whole – perhaps it just meant more to me. Individually.

Hmmm.

Stuff to ponder as we head into a rain soaked weekend!

What are you favourite doughnut flavours? Do you like Joe Fresh? And what are your strongest music memories?

I’d love to hear about it as I stoke my fire.