How does water expire? We have several cases of Evian left from Fashion Week, but we are now forbidden to drink it as the expiry date has passed. Are you kidding me? I once ate a piece of pie off the floor. And washed it down with a dented can of Pepsi. Bring it, Evian.
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On my recent morning drives through downtown Hamilton, I have been seeing more and more prostitutes out and about. All before 8:30am. In their fishnets, fake fur coats, makeup from last week and matted hair don'ts, they really do our city proud. At night is one thing (one sad, vile thing), but to see them in the morning....some of this 'ladies' really shouldn't ever been seen in the light.
Besides, who are the johns frequenting Emerald and Steven Street at this time? A disease before work to start the day off right?
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Speaking of weird things happening at weird times of the day, since when do Tiger Cat tailgate parties start at 9am? Barbecues are blazing, Budweiser is swilled and people have already bought their big yellow foam fist. Don't games start at, like, 4pm? I would one day like to go to a tailgate party (although not in Hamilton, obviously) but there's no way I'm eating any hot dogs before the strike of noon. Ok, fine, maybe 11 if you have sauerkraut and the good mustard. Or if I happen to go to Ikea some morning. Mmmm, Ikea hot dogs...
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Let's all agree to stop talking about H1N1. Please.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Raw Fish Madness
I am addicted to sushi. I can't get enough. So far, this week, I have had it 5 times and honestly, I wish I were eating sushi instead of writing now. There has been good sushi, excellent sushi, bad supermarket sushi, free sushi and sushi eaten secretly in an alleyway.
Eating sushi makes me feel that I'm doing something positive for my body. Rice, vegetables, fish - it seems all good. The only problem is that when an assorted tray arrives at my table or on the cement wall in the alley, I never really know what each piece is called. I can pretty much guess and I like them all, but I would like to know what to order, so I look less like an ignorant white girl. What is that one that has a bit of something crunchy in the middle? Sadly, I have put this question to the waitress this week.
What if they made a sushi roll (maki?) that included an even smaller roll?! Like when you put 2 mirrors facing each other and the image goes on forever. The Mirror Sushi Roll. I put this idea to someone over lunch and it blew his mind. Obviously.
Eating sushi makes me feel that I'm doing something positive for my body. Rice, vegetables, fish - it seems all good. The only problem is that when an assorted tray arrives at my table or on the cement wall in the alley, I never really know what each piece is called. I can pretty much guess and I like them all, but I would like to know what to order, so I look less like an ignorant white girl. What is that one that has a bit of something crunchy in the middle? Sadly, I have put this question to the waitress this week.
What if they made a sushi roll (maki?) that included an even smaller roll?! Like when you put 2 mirrors facing each other and the image goes on forever. The Mirror Sushi Roll. I put this idea to someone over lunch and it blew his mind. Obviously.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
The Baby Event
The baby shower, it has come and gone and turned out pretty well, but I still feel it was not the party I had hoped to throw. But I suppose it means me having a baby to do it my way and I can't see that happening. 
Babies. There were babies there. This was not expected. Luckily, there were cocktails as well - there was no way I was throwing a baby shower without liquor. This particular baby was thrust into my arms a moment after the mother announced it had a dirty diaper. Seriously, it's a miracle I didn't drop it. Her, whatever. I think it's a her.
The cake. Turns out I cannot decorate cakes. Sure, I can bake them (usually), but as for making them look beautiful, forget it. I was panicking Saturday night trying to salvage this cake that was lopsided, dripping icing and covering in sprinkles I had thrown on. The sprinkles were a last-ditch attempt to masquerade the slanting...it all prompted a call to the guest of honour to ensure she has a sense of humour about her cake. Luckily, Susan is as sweet as pie (or cake) and was a doll about the whole thing.
This is the finished product. Yep.
The group was divided down the middle, with all the mothers on one side and all the squeamish on the other. I learned about things I never want to repeat, especially Elo's traumatic tale that haunts my dreams.
Half the gifts that were unwrapped were completely foreign to me.
Overall, it was a successful afternoon and the mother-to-be got a lot of great things (at least I think those things are useful). Really, is there a more adorable pregnant woman than Susan?
Babies. There were babies there. This was not expected. Luckily, there were cocktails as well - there was no way I was throwing a baby shower without liquor. This particular baby was thrust into my arms a moment after the mother announced it had a dirty diaper. Seriously, it's a miracle I didn't drop it. Her, whatever. I think it's a her.
The cake. Turns out I cannot decorate cakes. Sure, I can bake them (usually), but as for making them look beautiful, forget it. I was panicking Saturday night trying to salvage this cake that was lopsided, dripping icing and covering in sprinkles I had thrown on. The sprinkles were a last-ditch attempt to masquerade the slanting...it all prompted a call to the guest of honour to ensure she has a sense of humour about her cake. Luckily, Susan is as sweet as pie (or cake) and was a doll about the whole thing.This is the finished product. Yep.
The group was divided down the middle, with all the mothers on one side and all the squeamish on the other. I learned about things I never want to repeat, especially Elo's traumatic tale that haunts my dreams.Half the gifts that were unwrapped were completely foreign to me.
Overall, it was a successful afternoon and the mother-to-be got a lot of great things (at least I think those things are useful). Really, is there a more adorable pregnant woman than Susan?
Friday, November 20, 2009
You're driving me crazy!!!
Ok, seriously, I have had it up to here (you know, somewhere up there, above...things) with this new cell phone ban. As a frequent commuter, I use my car time to catch up with people that I don't want to waste my real time talking to. I joke, Naomi, I joke. Call ya later.
From Ford Drive to my driveway is valuable time for me. Now, I'm stuck with the radio and my own thoughts, both of which have been consumed by Lady Gaga lately. Hmm. My phone is so ancient that it is not Bluetooth equivalent. In fact, someone once joked that if I take a picture with my cell I have to take it into Black's for overnight developing. Har.
I am stuck surrepitiously trying to text or holding the phone in lap while yelling, which is pointless as there is no speakerphone feature. Depending on the traffic, it is often more efficient to mail someone a letter when I leave Toronto.
I'd like to know the specifics of this stupid "law". If I'm at a stop light, does that count? What about snail traffic? Or what if I hide the phone under my hair so the cop isn't quite sure?
And, above all, as if using my cell phone is more hazardous or distracting than any of the other things I do while driving. I am a multi-tasker to the core (in fact, right now I am both painting my toenails and judging you) so I don't let driving deter me from the tasks at hand.
Over the past 7 days, I have done the following while driving (Mom, please stop reading now):
- counted my Canadian Tire money stash - $27.50 And, yes, shut up, I collect this happily.
- driven entirely with my knees while eating a submarine sandwich with two hands
- switched gears with my elbow just to see if I could do it. I couldn't really.
- read 3 chapters of a book, ironically called "This Book Will Save Your Life"
- changed my shoes, earrings and shirt - I think my chin was in control of the wheel for a spell there
It is my feeling that before lawmakers created this rule all willy-nilly like, they should have required that drivers take a test to determine who requires the law and who is just all-around awesome. The parallel to parallel parking could be manoeuvering the drive-thru or doing the slalom through construction pylons. Just a suggestion.
Either way, they are only giving out warnings for the first three months, right?
From Ford Drive to my driveway is valuable time for me. Now, I'm stuck with the radio and my own thoughts, both of which have been consumed by Lady Gaga lately. Hmm. My phone is so ancient that it is not Bluetooth equivalent. In fact, someone once joked that if I take a picture with my cell I have to take it into Black's for overnight developing. Har.
I am stuck surrepitiously trying to text or holding the phone in lap while yelling, which is pointless as there is no speakerphone feature. Depending on the traffic, it is often more efficient to mail someone a letter when I leave Toronto.
I'd like to know the specifics of this stupid "law". If I'm at a stop light, does that count? What about snail traffic? Or what if I hide the phone under my hair so the cop isn't quite sure?
And, above all, as if using my cell phone is more hazardous or distracting than any of the other things I do while driving. I am a multi-tasker to the core (in fact, right now I am both painting my toenails and judging you) so I don't let driving deter me from the tasks at hand.
Over the past 7 days, I have done the following while driving (Mom, please stop reading now):
- counted my Canadian Tire money stash - $27.50 And, yes, shut up, I collect this happily.
- driven entirely with my knees while eating a submarine sandwich with two hands
- switched gears with my elbow just to see if I could do it. I couldn't really.
- read 3 chapters of a book, ironically called "This Book Will Save Your Life"
- changed my shoes, earrings and shirt - I think my chin was in control of the wheel for a spell there
It is my feeling that before lawmakers created this rule all willy-nilly like, they should have required that drivers take a test to determine who requires the law and who is just all-around awesome. The parallel to parallel parking could be manoeuvering the drive-thru or doing the slalom through construction pylons. Just a suggestion.
Either way, they are only giving out warnings for the first three months, right?
Sunday, November 15, 2009
It's going to be an Egg-cellent day!
How could it not be when you encounter eggs like this? No manipulation was made to the yolks.
The Rub-down Breakdown
This past Friday, my boss treated Joanna and I to a spa afternoon at Hammam. Serenity, relaxation, zen - this is what we were promised. We all booked massages, robed up and drank cucumber water. What is the point of cucumber water, by the way? Why not chocolate flavoured water?
I've never really been a masssage person. My mother blames this on her not massaging me when I was a baby, thus ruining my spa experiences for life. I have been for one prior massage, also a gift and also unpleasant. But I put that behind me as I shimmied under the sheet.
During the 45 minutes I was on the table, the following thoughts entered my head at one point or another:
- Mmmm, sleepy...
- Why does it feel like my stomach has a pulse?
- Oh, okay, um....oww
- Is she knuckling my armpit?
- I wish there was a TV under this face thing.
- No, I can't relax. It's YOU that's making me tense.
- If my massage therapist was a man, would this be better?
- What was that she was touching me with? Elbow? Forehead?
- Seriously, stop it!
- Oh, okay, that's my ass.
- I wonder if they check out our underwear - mine's cool today.
- Stop it, stop it, stop it!
- Relax, Melissa, relax....
- Yes, she is definitely knuckling my armpit.
- When are we going to eat?
- It feels like she's massaging the grizzle on a chicken wing. But I think it's my leg.
- No thanks, my windpipe is fine, please stop squeezing it.
- Please make it STOP.
I think it is my lot in life to be tense. So what. I've dealt with it, 'therapist', you should too. Leave all the muscles alone. Please. Am I that abnormal? Do people really love this? And pay for it? I tried sheepishly admitting that the pressure was too much, but I think she thought she was rolling out pastry.
The steam room was really fun, except that the towel they give you to sit beside your boss in, is smaller than the amount of skin you want to show to said boss. It felt like I had done a massive workout. Scratch that - no workout would ever do that. Nor would I ever do a massive workout.
We topped the day off with cocktails at the Spoke Club, which I had never been to before, since I'm not a member. Really like exclusive places. Mostly, just because they're exclusive. Yeah, I know.
Overall, great day, and I must say that my knuckled armpit does feel quite relaxed and loose.
I've never really been a masssage person. My mother blames this on her not massaging me when I was a baby, thus ruining my spa experiences for life. I have been for one prior massage, also a gift and also unpleasant. But I put that behind me as I shimmied under the sheet.
During the 45 minutes I was on the table, the following thoughts entered my head at one point or another:
- Mmmm, sleepy...
- Why does it feel like my stomach has a pulse?
- Oh, okay, um....oww
- Is she knuckling my armpit?
- I wish there was a TV under this face thing.
- No, I can't relax. It's YOU that's making me tense.
- If my massage therapist was a man, would this be better?
- What was that she was touching me with? Elbow? Forehead?
- Seriously, stop it!
- Oh, okay, that's my ass.
- I wonder if they check out our underwear - mine's cool today.
- Stop it, stop it, stop it!
- Relax, Melissa, relax....
- Yes, she is definitely knuckling my armpit.
- When are we going to eat?
- It feels like she's massaging the grizzle on a chicken wing. But I think it's my leg.
- No thanks, my windpipe is fine, please stop squeezing it.
- Please make it STOP.
I think it is my lot in life to be tense. So what. I've dealt with it, 'therapist', you should too. Leave all the muscles alone. Please. Am I that abnormal? Do people really love this? And pay for it? I tried sheepishly admitting that the pressure was too much, but I think she thought she was rolling out pastry.
The steam room was really fun, except that the towel they give you to sit beside your boss in, is smaller than the amount of skin you want to show to said boss. It felt like I had done a massive workout. Scratch that - no workout would ever do that. Nor would I ever do a massive workout.
We topped the day off with cocktails at the Spoke Club, which I had never been to before, since I'm not a member. Really like exclusive places. Mostly, just because they're exclusive. Yeah, I know.
Overall, great day, and I must say that my knuckled armpit does feel quite relaxed and loose.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Raising the bar
I popped my bar mitzvah cherry (such a bad sentence on so many levels). As an event planner, the suburban trifecta is weddings, bar/bat mitzvahs and ruby anniversaries. Or some other third one.
Last weekend was my first bar mitzvah. It was quite an eye-opening experience. There are so many rules. So many! And this was my first time in a synagogue. Was I even allowed to wear jeans in there? Make-up? Hip flask?
I got a brief overview of the yays and nays and had to change my entire plan. Say goodbye to the bacon sandwich pressed between two pieces of ham. Au revoir to switching on a light - oh I was in the dark alright! Sayonara to drinking my latte on the meat side of the kitchen. The ovens had to be left on all night as they were not permitted to turn them on the day of the event.
We weren't allowed to bring anything in or out after sundown and no, we didn't not smuggle last minute items in under our shirts. No. We did not.
Grape products made by non-Jews may not be consumed. What? I'll admit I left very curious and planned on learning more. I'll get around to it, just after I finish my kebab wrapped in cheese. Mmm.
Last weekend was my first bar mitzvah. It was quite an eye-opening experience. There are so many rules. So many! And this was my first time in a synagogue. Was I even allowed to wear jeans in there? Make-up? Hip flask?
I got a brief overview of the yays and nays and had to change my entire plan. Say goodbye to the bacon sandwich pressed between two pieces of ham. Au revoir to switching on a light - oh I was in the dark alright! Sayonara to drinking my latte on the meat side of the kitchen. The ovens had to be left on all night as they were not permitted to turn them on the day of the event.
We weren't allowed to bring anything in or out after sundown and no, we didn't not smuggle last minute items in under our shirts. No. We did not.
Grape products made by non-Jews may not be consumed. What? I'll admit I left very curious and planned on learning more. I'll get around to it, just after I finish my kebab wrapped in cheese. Mmm.
3am self-reflection
Some nights are just a waste of make-up. Seriously, this weekend has been a disaster. I had such great intentions for this weekend and each night I've ended up staring at myself in the mirror, thinking, "Wha-? How did you get here? What kind of life is this? You're too old for this."
I'm making changes.
For reals, yo.
I'm making changes.
For reals, yo.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Message for You
Waking up the next morning after a regrettable action is a surefire way to ruin a blissful weekend. I've felt sick to my stomach all morning and for something so stupid. I can't even figure out why I did something to derail a perfectly wonderful night. It was ridiculous, hurtful, a waste of everything and above all, so pointless. Pointless. Why?? I'll blame wine, but I know I have a problem just walking away.
I feel awful about it and wish there was a way to go back in time. I never want to treat you that way.
I feel awful about it and wish there was a way to go back in time. I never want to treat you that way.
Hallowe'en 2009
Hallowe'en is always a good time. I've had some fun in past years:
- Hula dancer with authentic grass skirt from Hawaii
- Librarian (yeah, yeah, I know - it was super last minute, but at least it was honest)
- Geisha (Japanese girl with the biggest eyes ever)
- Ballerina with non-authentic tulle skirt that I stapled myself
This year, on the stiletto heels of Fashion Week, Hallowe'en crept on me and I had no time to find a costume. So, I rummaged in the attic and wore my mother's actual cheerleading uniform from high school. It was the best costume for the club and the inevitable walk home as there are never any cabs on Hallowe'en - sweater and sneakers.
I like to think the "C" stands for cute. Or cocktail.The most notable of my group had to be Paul. Dressed as Beyonce from the Single Ladies video or Justin Timberlake from the spoof, he was man enough to wear all spandex.
Love how he's wearing control top pantyhose. Naturally, we had to plan our walk home so it wouldn't include the village.
LG Fashion Week Snapshot #5
Sadly, this was the most and best sleep I had all week. On the floor. Up against garbage. With a free t-shirt over my eyes.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
3 crummy things, 1 day
There are 3 places no one wants to be.
1) sleeping next to an obese and angry racoon with only a thin piece of drywall between you
This happened the other night as I was awoken by this critter in the new edition of my bedroom. He had climbed up (on the ladder?!?) and then got up into the attic. After a satisfying meal of camping crackers and macaroni from school projects he decided to rub and butt up against my 'wall' and scare the crap out of me. We were all up with flashlights, video cameras, and bleary-eyed glares. He wasn't going anywhere, so there was no sleep that night.
2) on the side of the highway with a flat tire
Driving up the 403 to Ancaster, I had that uneasy feeling that something was wrong. Turns out, getting a flat tire is just like they say about meeting The One, you just know. I wobbled over to the side of the road, considered changing it myself (Yes, I know how to do that. Probably.), then called CAA.
As I waited, I was surprisingly calm - usually I would be so annoyed at being late and inconvenienced. I've mellowed. However, I did feel slightly jealous as I watched hundreds of cars fly by me. They're all so smug with their fully inflated tires, driving without a care in the world! While I sit here, cold, deflated and dejected - makes me sick. I still wore my seatbelt because I think I saw that news story about people hitting breakdowns - thought it couldn't hurt. Every time a truck with tow lights came around the corner, I got so excited that it was my roadside saviour. But, nope. Turns out it's just some jacka** driving a huge truck - he's probably eating pork rinds and headed to the Monster Truck Jam.
3) in Party Packagers or any costume store 2 days before Hallowe'en
This also happened the same day and really, there are no further words needed. It was hell masquerading as a retail outlet.
1) sleeping next to an obese and angry racoon with only a thin piece of drywall between you
This happened the other night as I was awoken by this critter in the new edition of my bedroom. He had climbed up (on the ladder?!?) and then got up into the attic. After a satisfying meal of camping crackers and macaroni from school projects he decided to rub and butt up against my 'wall' and scare the crap out of me. We were all up with flashlights, video cameras, and bleary-eyed glares. He wasn't going anywhere, so there was no sleep that night.
2) on the side of the highway with a flat tire
Driving up the 403 to Ancaster, I had that uneasy feeling that something was wrong. Turns out, getting a flat tire is just like they say about meeting The One, you just know. I wobbled over to the side of the road, considered changing it myself (Yes, I know how to do that. Probably.), then called CAA.
As I waited, I was surprisingly calm - usually I would be so annoyed at being late and inconvenienced. I've mellowed. However, I did feel slightly jealous as I watched hundreds of cars fly by me. They're all so smug with their fully inflated tires, driving without a care in the world! While I sit here, cold, deflated and dejected - makes me sick. I still wore my seatbelt because I think I saw that news story about people hitting breakdowns - thought it couldn't hurt. Every time a truck with tow lights came around the corner, I got so excited that it was my roadside saviour. But, nope. Turns out it's just some jacka** driving a huge truck - he's probably eating pork rinds and headed to the Monster Truck Jam.
3) in Party Packagers or any costume store 2 days before Hallowe'en
This also happened the same day and really, there are no further words needed. It was hell masquerading as a retail outlet.
Straighten up and fly right
Sometimes you get the chance to see something miraculous in the everyday. You might not even think it's that miraculous at the time, but then as time passes, it's the most beautiful part of your day.
I feel this way when I drive on the Skyway bridge into Burlington. I like to look up at the bridge beams overhead and there is something about it that always makes me smile.
I also feel this way when I catch a glimpse of a flock of birds flying in sync - it's phenomenal. I've not been able to see something as cool as the birds in this clip, but even to see them in a small flock is pretty cool.
Part of me wonders if this is how it goes down:
"Ok, listen up guys, this is what we're gonna do. We're gonna fly straight up, do a loop-de-loop, then a sharp dart to the left, then another loop, then another then land over there on that telephone wire. You got it? Keep it together this time! People will love it. Ok, here we go...."
I feel this way when I drive on the Skyway bridge into Burlington. I like to look up at the bridge beams overhead and there is something about it that always makes me smile.
I also feel this way when I catch a glimpse of a flock of birds flying in sync - it's phenomenal. I've not been able to see something as cool as the birds in this clip, but even to see them in a small flock is pretty cool.
Part of me wonders if this is how it goes down:
"Ok, listen up guys, this is what we're gonna do. We're gonna fly straight up, do a loop-de-loop, then a sharp dart to the left, then another loop, then another then land over there on that telephone wire. You got it? Keep it together this time! People will love it. Ok, here we go...."
LG Fashion Week Snapshot #4
Please take a moment and picture this:
- Day one of Fashion Week set-up
- King Street West - home of hipsters and people who ride bicycles as a fashion statement
- All the fashionistas draped in Balenciaga, Prada, and Dior. I am draped in set-up clothes which included old jeans. Apparently too old.
I am stepping out of the cube truck, probably with a chandelier in hand, when I hear a gut-wrenching tear. Yes, that's right, I ripped my jeans. But not just any sort of rip - the entire seat of my pants was gone. And let's just say I wasn't wearing the most full coverage of undergarments.
I instantly jerk upright, drop the chandelier and shield myself from the street and the windows of the onlooking fashionistas. I call my boss, mostly to make him laugh and tell him my predicament. He tells me he can already see me. He probably also heard the rip from inside. I am mortified and really unsure about what to do.
I've been told by a very reliable teacher source that this happens to everyone at least once in their life. Guaranteed. Have you had yours yet? I think I'm set.
What followed, was a flurry of phone calls that resulted in my dearest friend Tracy leaving me some replacement pants on the side of the road because I didn't even have time to go home. Making the call to get this favour was an interesting evaluation of my friends and who I knew wouldn't hesitate and others who I knew would make sure I knew it was a major inconvenience if they even agreed. It was really eye-opening - who I turned to in a mini crisis. But, I made the right call, because Tracy was a lifesaver!
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