I dream. Sometimes I think it’s the right thing to do.

Guess what friends?

This is my one hundredth blog post!


Heavens to Betsy, I can hardly believe it.

I started Ye Olde Rant and Roll last October, because I was missing creative writing something fierce.

I was already writing a boat load for work- including blogging three times a week – so I figured if I had the stamina to keep it up at my job, there was absolutely no reason why I couldn’t stick to a schedule of writing three times a week for fun.

(Hilarious almost typo. I first wrote “fur” instead of fun. I most definitely would not write three times a week for fur.)

At first all of my posts were Rants. (Definitely capital R.)

There was bad stuff going down all over the world, including in my own back yard, and I wanted to draw attention to those issues.

I had a voice – I might as well use it.

This was fantastic for the first little while, until I realized that I wasn’t totally worked up about issues all the live long day. I didn’t have enough things grinding my gears to produce three posts a week.

Plus, amazing, intriguing, inspiring things were happening on an almost daily basis – brilliant things were going on, and they were affecting me as much as the other issues I was discussing.

Write, write, write, write!

So gradually, I began to explore different sides of the world, and my life, through this here blog spot.

I started writing about fashion. And food. I wrote more about my life with Mr. M and our little beauty cat Nymeria.

I wrote about past travel plans, vacation adventures as they were happening, and I’ve hinted about expeditions that will soon be coming down the pipe.

(Mixed metaphor? Oh well, I’m owning it.)

I’m chronicling my progression to Tough Mudder status, unpacking my love-hate relationship with professional hockey, and singing the praises of my always entertaining family, my brilliant friends.

BUT! One the most important elements of this insanely wonderful ride is I’ve had the chance to meet all you rad-freaking-tastic readers and writers.

And I love that I get to have a glimpse into your lives, your stories, your rants and your rolls.

I’ve started writing upwards of five times a week because I feel so honoured to be a part of this amazing community, and I just get so jazzed the heck up all the time about stories that, well, jazz me the heck up!

This is how you dudes and dudettes make me feel!

A couple of you have asked me where I got my nickname from. So prepare yourselves for a thrill!

Well, almost three summers ago I worked with two beautiful young ladies, both the same height, one brunette and one blond. One day I made a joke to another colleague about them being Betty and Veronica. He turned to me and asked, “well, what does that make you?”

“Um,” I said. “Well…I’m tall, and lanky, and pretty nerdy. So – I guess that makes me Ethel?”

And it did. To many, many people from that day forth, I was Ethel.

The second part stems from a lunch break I had the day after I defended my Master’s thesis. I spent the whole time describing my research to a co-worker. At the end of my (ahem) rant, he asked me if I would rather he call me “doctor” or “the dean.”

“The dean,” I said.

So there you go. The birth of Ethel the Dean!

And to mark this auspicious occasion, if there are any other questions you have about my bonkers life, I’d be happy answer them.

(To an extent. Or for fur.)