Family – Page 6 – Rant and Roll

Whiskers on kittens

I have a cat.

Her name is Nymeria.

This is not news to veteran readers of Rant and Roll.

But for all you newbies (WELCOME MY LOVES!) please let this post serve as a wee introduction to this little creature who takes up major real estate within the confines of my heart.

We adopted the little miss in February of 2008.

This was after five years of constant badgering on my part, to my brilliant (though long-suffering) partner Marc.

Writer’s note: Marc is now my brilliant (and longer-suffering) husband.

Seriously, I was unrelenting in vocalizing my desire to adopt a pet.

The first animal for whom I had ever before cared was a grey and white kitty named Sophie (named after the famed Sophie’s Cosmic Café here in Vancouver) who ruled my family’s roost for a number of years before she succumbed to her heart murmur at the relatively young age of eight.

Her death (which took place just before Christmas in my second year of my undergrad) was one of the most crushing blows I had suffered up until that point in my life.

I received the phone call mid-holiday party, and as I collapsed into a fit of tears, Marc ushered our well-meaning, though slightly confused guests out the door.

Wrapped up in his arms, I cried myself to sleep that night.

And the next.

My mum has since adopted two other cats – brothers Rufus and Simon who are as adorable as they are bonkers.

Simon is so sketchy, I often refer to him as a beetle, because anytime he is spooked, he will scuttle under the nearest couch, table, or bed.

Rufus is a consummate lounger – too cool for school, and utterly fabulous. Whenever I put on makeup in the bathroom, he’s right there in the sink, trying to massage his cheeks up again my blush brush.

And I love both of them, truly.

Like her cousins back east, Nymeria is also completely mad.

A calico, she speaks all the time, but especially as feeding hour approaches.

Sometimes I feel a little nuts, because I start to make noises in response her to mewls and meows, and before I really know what is happening, I’m engaged in a very strange conversation, without any idea of what it is I am hearing (or in fact saying.)

This is very similar to when I speak Russian with anyone beyond proficiency level 1.

(Babushkas man. They just love the chance to talk to anyone!)

Nymeria’s brilliant for the fact that she doesn’t destroy our furniture, but less so because she does a fabulous job of managing her stress on the carpet that covers our stairs.

She will sleep with me up until Marc gets into bed (he always retires much later than I) but then will return around 4 a.m. to sleep on my legs.

She loves to be brushed.

A giant ‘fraidy-cat, she will hunker out on our balcony, until she scares herself, and runs back inside.

She has such tiny feet, that more often than not, I will refer to her as Little Paws.

Other nicknames include: Beauty Cat, Big Eyes, Little One, Kitten, Douce Baggins (only used after a very, very stinky bathroom break), Duck (because when she sits a certain way, she looks like a duck riding the waves), and Dragon Cat.

I really, really like it when she’s Dragon Cat.

Anytime she hears a bag opening she will immediately run to the kitchen in hopes of a treat.

Anytime we come home from a trip she will shower us with the softest of kitten kisses.

Anytime I think about her, my little heart smiles.

Because she is, quite simply, our little gal.

A lot of ins, a lot of outs

Hi kids!

A little while ago the lovely Runningwithoutsocks made me all shirty and blushy by letting me know that she dug my blog.

And what do you know? The feeling is completely mutual.

Her blog is terrifically awesome sauce, and I really encourage you to go and check out her stuff.

She was also fab enough to pass along some questions that I was encouraged to answer if I should wish.

And I do. I do so wish.

So as my knackered little bones sink down into the recesses of our big comfy couch, I present to you, dear readers, my answers:

If you could have any super power, what would it be and why?

Oof. This questions has (and will continue to) plague me for years. Because on one hand, it HAS to be the ability to fly, doesn’t it? I mean, I’ve been having flight dreams since as far back as I can remember, and it has always been soul-crushing to wake up and realize that I don’t have this ability in real life.

But on the other hand, invisibility would be AMAZING. As would the ability to read minds.

AND SHAPESHIFT.

Urg.

You see? This is why I totally suck at this game.

Can I just wish for more wishes?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

This is another hard one. It’s hard to paint a concrete picture, because in all honesty, I have no idea what the next six months, let alone five years has in store.

So I will say this: I will be with the love of my life, and we will most likely have produced a little human being. I will be a world-famous stand-up comedian, and M will be an internationally renowned curriculum developer.

It’s either that or shacked up in an chalet somewhere high up in the Pennine Alps, raising large families of St. Bernards and eating a crap ton of Gruyere cheese.

Chocolate or vanilla?

I once ate a Mars bar covered in ants.

I was two years old at the time, but I’d like to think that little girl still lives somewhere inside of me.

So…NEXT!

Favorite movie?

Ooer. Also a hard one. I have many favourites: A Fish Called Wanda, Love Actually, The Bourne Trilogy, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Three Colours (though White is my favourite), Amelie, Never Let Me Go, La Femme Nikita, The Fifth Element…

I COULD GO ON.

But, if I was told that I was going to be sent to a deserted island and I could only bring one movie with me, then no question, it would be The Big Lebowski.

I love this movie more than I can properly communicate. Nothing will ever be more brilliant, or as funny as this film.

EVER.

Summer or winter?

Summer. No contest.

Sundresses, hiking, biking, patios, cold drinks, warm nights, barbeques, beach days, sunglasses, the smell of sunscreen and sand, running in the early morning…

GET HERE NOW DAMN YOU!

What’s your fondest childhood memory?

Yowza. This is a toughie.

I have a million and a half memories that all could easily qualify for top billing.

I’ll share just one: driving around with my two sisters in our old brown van, singing out hearts out to The Beatles’ “Drive My Car.” It’s nearing the end of the school years, so the weather is warm and sunny. I’m in grade six, Jess is in grade four, and Kate is in grade eleven. Kate has just bought us slurpees and my cheeks hurt from smiling.

Remembering everything about this scene just feels like pure happiness.

Favorite band?

Ack! Also too many. Franz Ferdinand, Hot Chip, Kaiser Chiefs, Queen, Pink Floyd, Simon and Garfunkel, Peter, Bjorn, and John, Matt Anderson, The Rolling Stones.

This question is impossible!

But to pull out the desert island reference again, I’ll have to go with The Beatles.

Because THE BEATLES.

If you could live in any city in the world, which one would you choose and why?

Probably Edinburgh. I loved living in the UK and this was my favourite city that we visited. I would go back in a heartbeat.

What do you dream about?

My dreams are CRACKED. I don’t want to scare anyone off so I’m pleading the fifth on this one.

Your most distinguished trait (could be physical or character trait – or both!)

Distinguished, eh?

I feel like I should leave this one up to the judgement of someone else.

Character trait(s) – my passion, dedication, and drive.

Psysical – my long hair and even longer legs (which allow me to tower over people.)

Why did you start blogging?

Because of said passion. And because if I didn’t find a way of communicating all the thoughts running around my head on a daily basis I would have run off to the woods never to be seen from again.

(Until, that is, Werner Herzog decided to make a documentary about my life.)

…

So there you have it you fab chaps!

In lieu of the regular Friday Fry-Up, a little insight into my mad self.

We’ll be back to our regular scheduled program next week.

In the meantime, drop me a line highlighting your answers.

I will read and relish them, as I rest awhile.

Some food for thought

Once upon a time I was scared of food.

Not all food, but most kinds.

Anything that I did eat had to be rationalized and picked apart, and most often times, thrown up.

Food was stressful.

Food was guilt.

Food was not fun.

These days, food is (for the most part) none of these things.

Food is a friend, not a foe. It is a tool that helps me lead a healthy, happy life – one that allows me to run like the wind, and tell funny jokes, and make mad-cap films with my map-cap husband.

And not those kind of films, you dirty jerks.

But the busier my life gets, the harder it can be to keep a level head (let alone any semblance of a regular eating schedule) so it’s imperative that I remain extra vigilant, lest I find myself (inadvertently) slipping into oh-so destructive, and oh-so familiar eating habits.

Of late I have had to really catch myself, and take a step back (or ten) just to make sure that I take better care of my health.

So this is why, I present to you the following photos, which I will title – FOOD I HAVE EATEN – as a reminder of why I need to continue to focus on this part of my life, and the brilliance and joy it has, and will continue to bring me.

Veggie burger.

I made this last Wednesday evening. I had just arrived home from work, rain-soaked, and wind-swept, shivering, and starving.

Everything in my being was telling me to flop down on the couch with a box of wheat thins and a giant mug of hot chocolate and just call it an evening.

Instead, I took a long, hot shower (the kind that sufficiently fogs up the entire top floor of our place), and crawled into my pajamas, before setting up shop in the kitchen.

With my favourite radio program playing in the background (As it Happens), I chopped onions, and fried mushrooms, sliced cheese, and grilled a patty.

I even roasted some yam fries.

M was working late so I turned on the fireplace, curled up on the couch with little miss Nymeria, and watched some Portlandia, while chomping down on this delicious piece of soy heaven.

I posted this photo, because in the past, I would never have taken the time to make myself something, let alone a meal that was both nutritious and delicious. Plus, sometimes putting something together – even as simple as a burger, makes me feel like a four Michelin star chef.

Or Ratatouille.

Brunch it.

My brilliant and beautiful friend Emily of the fabulous Well Fed, Flat Broke, invited me over to her house last Saturday for a “reunion” brunch of sorts.

Myself and all her guests went through UBC’s undergraduate Creative Writing program (nearly five years ago!!!) and it was so lovely to have the chance to catch-up and find out what has been going on in everybody’s lives since our last seminar together.

As we chatted, we munched on all the mouthwatering dishes Emily had prepared (truth be told, there was less chatting the more we munched) including a caramelized onion torte, tandoori cauliflower (my two favourites), roasted squash, and potato salad. Not to mention homemade kiwi sorbet.

In truth, it was a perfectly decadent and divine way to start a weekend (and laid back, thank goodness, as I had been out until 1:30am after my stand-up gig the night before.)

I posted this photo because for many years eating in front of others gave me tremendous anxiety. Everything was calculated, down to the very smallest bite. I wanted to cultivate an image of myself as “a skinny girl” who still “ate a lot”. Now, I can interact with all the smart, sweet people in my life, and still enjoy their exquisite food. I am able to let what I am eating take a back seat to what’s really important – spending time with these wonderful friends.

Birthday cupcake.

My sister in-law’s fiancée’s daughter recently turned six. Being the utterly incredible soon-to-be step mum that she is, V took it upon herself to not only make pretty much the most amazing birthday cake I have ever seen, but also a batch of outrageously delicious cupcakes.

Hanging out with them last weekend, I was lucky enough to sample some of these wares.

Believe me when I say it was a dessert experience and a half.

(Seriously, V should think about moonlighting as a baker. I WOULD BE HER #1 PATRON.)

I posted this photo because just eating a cupcake and not letting it tear me apart is not yet something I take for granted. I used to drive myself crazy rationalizing desserts (all food really, but sweets were the worst.)

Did I exercise that day? How much else had I eaten? Could I throw it up if needed?

The fact that I can eat a cupcake and be at peace with this fact, may sound silly, but it means more to me than I can really say.

…

So that’s it. Food I have eaten.

A series I hope will continue to run, for much time yet.

Sisters are doing it for themselves

I have two sisters with whom I am desperately in love. Most of the time I miss them like a missing thing due to the fact that they both live miles and miles away and make their homes on the Canadian and American eastern seaboards.

But when we’re together it’s magic.

Which was why this past Christmas vacation was so brilliant – we had the chance to spend an extended amount of time together and really get up to some sisterly mischief.

It’s so crazy when I think about how similar we are in so many ways (our strong work ethic and passionate natures are two traits that immediately spring to mind), while at the same time being so, so different.

My older sister is the social justice champion; I am the academic drama queen; and my little sister is the business-minded chef.

And when I say that I am in awe of everything these two brilliant and beautiful women have achieved (and continue to achieve) it is no lie – these ladies are doing incredible, important, and brilliant things.

So whenever I get to witness these things in action, it pretty much blows my mind.

For instance, when we were in Halifax this past December, on Christmas Eve day I got to work in my little sister’s butcher shop and storefront – Highland Drive Storehouse: Butchery and Local Produce (she also runs a catering and cooking lesson business out of the store).

She had given all her staff the day off (what a fab boss!) and in turn, recruited myself, M, my older sister Kate, and her fiancée to help out for the day.

It’s was a pretty bonkers, but brilliant shift, as we had many people coming in to pick up their turkey orders, as well as other last minute planners who were just desperate to procure something to cook for their family and friends, having forgot to request something in advance.

In the end we made sure that no one left empty handed, and I kid you not, for the entire day I was just swelling with pride to witness (and be a part of) all of the action.

I mean first – who gets to say that their little sister owns a butcher shop.

This is pretty badass.

And then just to watch how amazing Jessi is with all of her customers; how much time and care she puts into providing a superior shopping experience – one that is equal parts positive, educative, and hilarious – whether it’s her relaxed banter with her regular shoppers (she easily recommends different cuts of meat and then offers up recipes for how to cook or prepare the dish) or the care she takes to speak with every new client who enters the store – she truly goes above and beyond to create a really fabulous atmosphere.

Not to mention the fact that as she’s doing this, she is also making her own bacon and sausages, preparing orders, writing menus for her catering jobs, and coming up with easy, but delicious ideas for upcoming cooking lessons.

What can I say folks? The girl is a champ.

A TOTAL CHAMP.

So if you’re ever in the Halifax area, head over the Hydrostones (a fab historical district of the city) and check out Highland Drive Butchery and Produce.

And when you get there, tell the beautiful proprietress that Ethel the Dean sent you.

And that she couldn’t be a prouder of her little sis.

Not even if she tried.

Let’s sway, while color lights up your face

Well, first things first.

A nor’easter blew in early yesterday morning, dumping snow all over Halifax. As it was also winding like a winding thing, many flights ended up being completely cancelled – including ours.

Ho hum, pigs bum.

So, as a result (and because US Airways has only been able to get us on a flight tomorrow night), Mr. M and I will be spending New Years with the fam.

Honestly, I haven’t rung in a new three hundred and sixty-five days with my mom and sister for many, many moons, so despite the fact that I am a little bummed about not being able to be with my friends tonight, I am so looking forward to spending a few more hours with these amazing, brilliant, hilarious, and completely bonkers women.

Games will be played, oh yes.

And movies watched, and good food eaten.

A glass of bubbly may be imbibed at midnight.

I don’t know about you cats, but New Years is a always such a peculiar celebration to me.

I’ve written before how I don’t actually celebrate a new year come January 1, but on September 1 (because that, for me, is when the new year actually begins – having been brainwashed by years and years of back to school shopping, and labour day long weekends) so I never really know what to do with myself when this time of year rolls around.

I also have this weird belief that as soon as Christmas is over, spring should be just around the corner, almost as if Boxing Day should herald the arrival of cherry blossoms and blue skies.

Knowing that we have three more months of winter to plod through is always just a little bit discombobulating.

I don’t really make resolutions, because throughout the year I am constantly making new goals, and revising old targets and expectations.

(But I sure do love reading all your posts about your objectives for the next twelve months.)

There are, however, many things that I am looking forward to next year.

Running the Sunshine Coast and Whistler half-marathons; being a part of three (three!) weddings next summer, and visiting New York in July; more stand-up gigs, speaking engagements, and radio shows; celebrating five years of marriage with my soul mate; and taking on new adventures in all avenues of my life.

All of these things actually give me goosebumps just thinking about them.

Talk about exciting and invigorating.

(Okay, okay! I would be remiss if it I didn’t say that I REALLY want to run a sub 1:30 half, and I REALLY want to do forty push-ups in a row.)

Can I say that those are my New Years 2013 resolutions? Are those resolutions? Either way, I’m going with it.

I will continue (to work on) keeping my anxiety in check, and my body issues at bay.

I will keep ranting, and keep rolling.

I will, also, continue to run, and write, and dream, and love – I will love my life with the fire and ferocity that life should be loved.

And I so much look forward to sharing this love.

Happy New Year to you all!