Tag: Humor

On wednesdays, we wear pink

Yo, yo, yo beauty cats!

Today, I am PUMPED UP.

I am buzzing with inspiration, and love, and just general bonkerness.

This morning I, along my very glamorous, and gem of a genius colleague J, went to a leadership panel at the Vancity Theatre, where we heard six different talks from a brilliant buffet of speakers: they were athletes, intellectuals, doctors, storytellers, and demographers.

Seriously, these individuals were fascinating as they were diverse: ranging from Trevor Linden, ex-Canuck extraordinaire, to Dr. Samantha Nutt, the founder and executive director of WarChild Canada and US.

Hey! It's that Clearly Contacts guy!

What a collection of neat people.

Phew.

I know I often write about the inordinate number of injustices I perceive, (or hear about, or read about) – on a daily basis at that, and I know I am wont to chronicle about how this overwhelming tide of negativity can be pretty difficult to fight against, (particularly day in and day out)– but just sitting there, and listening to all of the speakers, allowing their passion, and humour, and dedication, and eloquence to just wash over me – heck, it really made me think that we just might make it out of this out-of-control space-ship-cum-wrecking-ball of a planet alive.

And kicking!

(Well. Maybe.)

It all may depend on the subject of Al Gore’s next documentary.

(I kid, I kid.)

And if we don’t survive?

And we are all exploded into millions of tiny particles of space dust because no one bothers to recycle their toasters, or throw out their bubble tea cups, and instead just stashes their Subway wrappers in university pruned bushes and other miscellaneous vegetation?

Well, I plan on looking darn stylish in the process of said annihilation.

And, why is that exactly might you ask?

Because, ladies and gentlemen…I did it!

May I present to you, my two favourite clothing purchases of 2012:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

Hot damn.

The excitement around these parts (aka coursing around the length of my body) is palpable.

PALPABLE!

I cannot begin to explain to you all how excited I am to wear both of these pieces. Maybe not together (at least not to the office), but all day, and every day, I will don this as my warrior dress, as I kick ass and chew bubble gum.

And folks, I’m all out of bubble gum.

Okay, in all seriousness, I have really been trying to make conscious choices when it comes to my fashion purchases. This works rather well with the fact that I have a very hard time breaking away from the “student” mindset when it comes to buying, well, anything really.

I want to make sure that whatever it is I am purchasing, it will be something that I will wear and get good use of, as well as being as ethically responsible as possible.

It can be a hard balancing act, and I am by no means perfect, but I am working on it.

At the root of it all, I just want to understand where my clothing is coming from, who is profiting off my purchase, how well the product will benefit myself as a consumer, and (of course) first and foremost: ask myself – do I actually need it in my life?

Now, I could argue that I don’t actually need 99% of the stuff that I buy – I become more and more aware of this issue every time I walk by a store, or through a shopping mall.

But I hope that, at the very least, by just asking these questions, I am making some sort of impact, or progress – that it is the catalyst for a slow building, slow moving change, even if just in my life.

A change of one.

And if it can grow from there? Well then, that’s just perfect.

…

As two quick post-scripts, let me share with you two of my biggest laughs (or gaffs?) of the day:

I was an overzealous coffee pourer at the speaker’s panel. Can you tell I was a tad tired this morning?

Java moat.

And, prices advertised by Flight Centre:

Good marketing there folks. Fine print is pretty crap though.

WOW, this flight is only $29.00?! But taxes are $600.00?

Well shit.

Looks like I’m riding my bike to Europe.

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.

No promises, no demands

Hey Kids,

This week I’ve been feeling a little burnt out. Seriously, I’m starting to feel like the kid in Jumanji as he’s being sucked into the board game.

Stretched too thin and unsure of what the heck is going to happen next.

Also, if I wake up tomorrow morning looking like Robin Williams, there is going to be hell to pay.

It’ll be a drive by fruiting!

Ahem.

Even though I thoroughly enjoy my work, and all my volunteer commitments, my training sessions (I take the good with the bad, and even the ugly), and my creative pursuits (nay, passions), I kind of feel like I have too many fingers, in too many pies, and they are all being burned to a crisp by a blisteringly hot blueberry filling.

And I bloody well LOVE blueberry filling!

Can someone pass me some vanilla ice cream, stat?

For the past five days, each time my alarm has gone off, the first thought to immediately to pop into my head has been: “NO. I REFUSE.”

The second has been: “What the frick am I going to wear to work today?”

Followed by the third and last: “I better not have a zit to contend with, or I’m going to lose it!”

Yeesh. Forget Robin Williams, I’m slowly morphing into George Costanza.

(Number three on that list is a throw back from high school. I used to have pretty awful skin, and even though I’ve had a clear complexion for quite a while now, I can’t shake this compulsion. Especially since every once in a while I’ll get a major doozy of a zit. Case in point, yesterday as I left an after-work function completely destroyed from exhaustion, I could practically feel my heart beating in what can only be described as the monster pimple from hell. Amazingly, in the span of only two hours, this thing had sprouted from nothing, to wrecking havoc with the earth’s gravitational pull.)

I’ll live, I’m sure, but trauma was endured.

So this morning as I rode the metro to work I was feeling a little down.

I was late leaving my house, so I didn’t have the option of waiting for a train that had available seats, so I hopped on the first car that stopped at the station. Leaning back on the glass partition that separates a five-seat bench from the train doors, I nonchalantly skimmed through the free newspaper I had been handed at the station’s entrance, and watched the scenery zip by.

As I marveled at the beautiful cherry blossom trees that line the skytrain route, I also drank in the different coloured blues, pinks, and greens that made up the early morning sky.

Just the simple act of meditating on nature’s beauty made my heart feel a little lighter.

And then BAM!

I saw it.

No, not the mullet. Though I did notice that too.

Written right in front of me.

A little piece of graffiti, scribbled in pencil on the carriage’s door. An adolescent’s script:

Latin 100 baby!

Amor Vincit Omnia.

Love conquers all.

Just out there, for the world to see.

And as the train bopped along, and the cherry blossoms cherried, and the blue sky blued itself (there’s an arrested development joke somewhere in there), I thought to myself:

HELL YES LOVE CONQUERS ALL! LET’S GET THIS DAY STARTED!

Just reading those three words was like getting kicked in the butt by a big boot filled with awesome sauce.

In a split second I was ready to rock.

And rant.

AND ROLL.

Because folks, at the base of it all, I am a love warrior. I will fight tooth and nail for the individuals in my life who live inside my heart.

One of my many sets of armour.

I just need to remember once in a while that that I should be included in that list of people.

That I should fight for, and love, and revel in myself, Godzilla pimple and all.

And so I too encourage all of you to do the same for yourselves.

(I can even provide the boot, complete with sauce, if needed.)

Choco milk is one ingredient of the awesome sauce.

Though I may be sleeping soundly when you place your order.

Because hot damn, warrioring can be hard work.

And I’m still pretty tired.

When I am a rich girl

Item no. 1 on my list of “Things I wont ever do on my own again once I become independently wealthy”?

DYING MY OWN HAIR:

This is not a good look.

Urg.

Can somebody please pass me a headband?

I recently announced to the world that I was thinking about dying my hair blond. This proclamation elicited a rather lack luster response, (with the outlier reactions ranging from completely agog, to shock and terror.)

Seeing as though I am giant chicken, this morning I completely reneged on this idea, and I re-dyed my hair 1.5 shades away from black.

(Does anyone really know what blackest brown even means?)

So thanks to L’Oreal, I’m back to my raven headed self.

And if I go outside, children will be afraid to touch me.

Ah well, I’m wearing a sundress, and eventually all this will be washed away.

(Especially the hair dye. In fact, I’m counting on it.)

Have a great, great weekend you beauty cats!