Have you ever been in a position where something really embarrassing is happening to you, but there is nothing that you can really do about it, because, who are we kidding, no one can just shower for hours and hours in the hopes that hair dye no longer dots the length of their hairline?
No?
Huh. Just me then.
Oh well, it’s all one.
But to get back to what I was saying – although I had (on the whole) an absolutely fabulous weekend, because I did have hair dye smattered all across my hairline, and because I didn’t have one bloody thing on the dye removal list given to me by the lovely Kacy, I spent the majority of my time outside wearing this on my head:
Why, heeelllooooo there.
And while I really love my Forever XXI headband, on the one day that Vancouver finally cracked fifteen degrees centigrade, I was a little hot around the ears.
(Especially as M and I walked up the library to return our books, and to purchase our goodies for dinner.)
We thought the perfect dinner for such a sunny Saturday night would be spicy shrimp fajitas.
When I was first learning how to cook, as well as coming to understand that food was my friend, and not my sworn enemy, fajitas were one of the first things that I began to make on a regular basis.
What I’ve come to love so much about them is the myriad of colours and textures and flavours that all come to play, wrapped up tightly in those tasty, toasty tortillas.
You’ve got the crunch from the peppers, the spice from the seasoning, the sharpness of the cheese, the tang of the salsa, all dancing up a storm, to a perfectly timed beat.
And they are a fabulous meal to cap off a sun dripped, tuliped, early spring day.
Check it:
Nomnom. NOM.
Like I always like to do, I laid out the goods before getting down to business.
And then I chopped it, chopped it.
Do it.
Then I had sizzling sizzlers straight out of sizzledom. (Not to be confused of course with Jerry Sizzler, sister of Jerry Sizzler, the lounge singers and not two clearly insane people. See end video for more, and for proof that I am not the one clearly insane.)
Jerry. JERRY!
Then we laid out a buffet of brilliance.
All the colours of the rainbow!
For an end result of:
Happiness. And cider. One and the same?
What are your easy peasy meal choices that serve as the perfect topper to a smashing day?
And just remember, I’m not Roy Orbison. I work in colourization!
And then for the rest of the day, I felt like this:
Chillin. Illin. And cleaned the heck up!
Funnily enough, after work, what did I do?
I went to the gym gosh darn it!
I kind of felt like I owed it to them in a way.
It ended up being a fab, FAB workout too. I ran sprints and hills (alas – on the treadmill), squatted until my thighs were about to give out, and then did enough push-ups and pull-ups to never want to partake in another one until the end of time (or, as it more likely, for the next two or three days.)
Then I came home and got my cooking groove on with the ever lovely Mr. M.
We decided it was high time to make some homemade spaghetti sauce along with some sweet mini bowtie pasta.
We lined up our veggies and got to work:
Nommers.
There is something so calming about working in the kitchen with someone you love.
It also helps if you have similar taste in radio programmes. The CBC has been absolutely killing it with their 20 year anniversary coverage of the Seige of Sarajevo.
I’ve been brought to tears many, many times listening to their coverage. Seriously, their interviews are just outstanding in the extreme.
As we listened we chopped, woked, and boiled.
Boil it!
M was kind enough to capture much of the action.
Needs more tomatoes.
We also decided to cook up some spicy shrimp for good measure.
Shrimp it!
For a final outcome of this:
Absolute bliss.
As an end note, I would like to send a massive thank you to everyone who has dropped by this here blogspot, left a note, liked a post, or subscribed to updates, whether it be today, or the day I started up Rant and Roll.
Yesterday, at approximately 1:30 pm, January 10, 2012, I officially became AN OLD.
Red wine is totes an old people drink, right?
And just what exactly is AN OLD, you may ask?
AN OLD is basically the personification of the following situation:
[scene: Old codger (of indeterminate sex) stands on a creaky, wooden porch. They raise their cane and shake their fists.
Old codger: GET OFF MY LAWN YOU DAGNABBIT KIDS!!!
Fade to black.]
And how exactly have I reached this conclusion, you, dear reader, might deign to ask?
Well, it was a three pronged process.
Yesterday on my lunch break, I took a long walk around the downtown core in an attempt to stretch my legs (and breathe life into my computer-screened eyeballs and mousy wrists), but more importantly to procure a birthday present for a fellow OLD.
(Although, it should be clarified that at the time that I set out, I did not realize that we were fellow OLDs (or peers if you will) as this connection had not yet been cemented by the following three events.)
Now, for the sake of full disclosure, I’m not one to really begrudge the aging process – at least not anymore. (I had my first age related panic attack on the eve of my eighteenth birthday when I realized that unlike Mary Shelley I would not be publishing my first book before exiting high school.)
But now I’ve pretty much chilled the crap out about those kinds of things. Plus, I’m also happy to report that also unlike Mary Shelley I didn’t turn into some crazy sexual deviant who hangs out with Byron-esque characters and does a ton of hallucinogenic drugs.
(At least not yet.)
(KIDDING!)
Anywho, as I was saying, the first event that solidified my transition from HIP CAT to OLD (now, it seems I will need to start worrying about my hips) was when I was paying for said before mentioned birthday gift. As I gazed at the young woman who was ringing me up, I actually remarked on the following (albeit in my mind, thank goodness):
Lady – don’t you know that NO ONE IS GOING TO TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY WITH THAT MUCH METAL IN YOUR FACE?
Umm, Mom? Is that you?
Holy crap.
The second event took place as I was browsing through another store. The music pumping its way through the shop’s stereo system was, to put it mildly, utter shite. I actually thought to myself:
This isn’t music! This is just noise!
Ahem.
…
(This one actually cracks me the heck up, because I can actually hear it so clearly in my mom’s voice that I actually heard it as such when it played out in my head. Seriously hilarious. Also, I actually get a kick out of the LMFAO song, but it makes M’s hairs stand on edge.)
Finally, as I was walking back to work, I paused and stared a large window display, and asked myself (again, with my inside, mother voice):
Who the flipping heck would wear THAT? For serious!?
And BAM! It hit me – Oldsville, BC – Population 1. ME.
So bring on the miserhood! I have ordered pants that go up to my collarbone, orthotics, dentures and bifocals.
The thing that bugs me the most about all of this is that should I actually procure all that clothing, I’ll just end up looking like another idiot hipster, whom, it should be noted, are the usual recipients of my get of my lawns ire.
I’ll work on it.
But speaking of hipsterdom, I returned today to the store of said before mentioned horror-show window display, in hopes of conducting a very important sociological (or, you know, plain old fashioned-based) experiment.
I sought out three mannequins and then proceeded to try on the outfits showcased by each model, in hopes of validating my previous claim that no one should be wearing these clothes, lest they wish to be labelled unhinged, or you know, batshit insane.
Onwards to outfit #1!
You have to pay more for the bedpan purse and ice chips.
This can be summed up in three simple words: HOSPITAL. GOWN. CHIC.
SEXY PATIENT! and frog.
Next!
Outfit #2 is a bit tricky – due to my craptastic camera it’s a little hard to discern what the fresh hell is going on here. I am wearing some pretty snazzy corduroy shorts, made to look like a skirt, but with a neat pleat right up the middle. The shirt itself isn’t half bad, but the cardigan is STRAIGHT OUT OF DYNASTY.
Blanche called. She wants her sweater back.
Shoulder pads? DO NOT WANT.
SUIVANT!
Outfit #3 is probably my favourite because it made me feel like one of those really amped up shopping channel hosts, or you know, the guy who used to yell “COME ON DOWN!” on The Price is Right.
The hills are alive! With the sound of Plinko!
The jacket reminds me of something that Maria Rainer would put together if she was interviewing for a job at a Palm Springs retirement resort and not au pair to the von Trapps.
All in all, pretty weird stuff, and definitely not something an OLD should by sporting on a regular basis. Plus, I’m one to readily admit that I always give myself the creeps, skulking around change rooms and taking photos of myself (in outfits I know I will never purchase no less).
But don’t take that as an admission that I’m about to stop anytime soon.
It’s just that as I mature, I have to become more aware of my surroundings.
How else will I know if someone’s fooling around on my lawn?
It’s pretty crazy to think that we are only two days away from beginning a new year.
I don’t know whether time is speeding up, or if I am slowing down, but events seem to be happening at a much quicker pace, than say, ten years ago.
So, to whomever turned up the dial on the world’s treadmill, could you slow it down a tad friend? I need to catch my breath and get my bearings!
I find that doing something that really pushes your physical and mental limits is a great way to help both time run away from you, and yet somehow make it hang suspended in mid-air, like some crazed escape artist, hanging from a tightrope wire.
For instance, yesterday, M, my dad, and I climbed Mount Haystack, all 3560 feet high and 8.6 miles long of it.
DO IT.Just a hop, skip and a jump to the summit!
It was an adventure and a half, especially seeing as though for the actual ascent we didn’t have a marked path.
I have never scrambled up so much loose rock in my life.
I have never been pricked by two different types of cacti, nor have I ever seen a coyote while mid-mountain descent ( they are usually only skulking around my backyard back home).
Nor have I ever seen a view quite like this one before:
This is the definition of man-made (and man-maintained).
We started out at 7:30am, to get a jump on the crowds (there weren’t any) and the heat (there was quite a lot of this).
It was a seriously fun, seriously taxing hike.
Other things that I learned while out on the trail:
1. Barrel-head cacti always grow leaning to the south, and look like giant prickly cucumbers.
Keep those barrels rolling. ROLL HIGH!
2. An oasis will crop up in just about the most remote, random place that you could ever imagine.
Yet not a drop to drink.
3. Making your sandwich with a tomato in it the night before is never a good idea, even if you think you’ve protected the bread with both lettuce and cheese, because the lettuce and cheese will also make it grow soggy.
I don't have a photo of my sandwich so please accept this glowing cactus.
4. I am the queen of the world.
Leo ain't got nothing on me.A room, erm, peak with a view!
It’s quite insane to really mediate on 2012 as a tangible, real thing. I remember ringing in 2000 as if it was yesterday.
You've got to put one foot, in front of the other...
It’s not that I am weary of the new year, but more curious, filled with a subtle sense of wonderment about all the new (and completely bonkers) adventures I will embark on next.
So here, in no particular order are my resolutions for the approaching three hundred and sixty-five days:
– Run the Victoria marathon in 3:30:00 – Begin training in April, qualify for Boston in October.
– Travel, explore and take on the (sometimes scary) unknown with the love of my life, Mr. M.
MISTER M!
– Continue having a positive relationship with food and my body, because without this, there is no way I will be able to accomplish numbers 1 and 2.
…
I am also so happy to be writing regularly again through Rant and Roll.
Many, many thanks to all of my fabittyfabfab readers and subscribers. Your encouragement, comments and support mean the world to me! Without a doubt, you all make my little, slightly daft heart smile!
I wish you all a brilliant and beautiful coming year, free of prejudice, and bias, but always REMEMBER: should you encounter any of this in your daily life, do not despair, for after I wrench myself from the corner from whence I have curled myself up in the fetal position, I WILL TAKE THEM ON AND I WILL CRUSH THEM!!!
Rant and Roll 