The Best Part of Blogging


As bloggers, we understand the connections. We understand how special it is to be able to easily communicate with people around the world, from all walks of life. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, these connections lead to a friendship you don’t know how you were ever able to survive without.

Insert Lauren here.

What started as obsessively stalking each other’s blogs rapidly transformed into commenting on every single post, gchatting all day long, nonstop blackberry messaging, and flurries of tweets and calls.

The days Lauren and I have spent spilling our hearts out to one another have changed my life. She is my advice giver. My cheerleader. The greatest source of inspiration and encouragement I could ask for, with a side of sarcastic wit that always has me laughing. She is incredibly beautiful, insanely talented, and comes from a huge family that I hope to one day meet.

Lauren turns 25 on Saturday. As much as I wish I could stand beside her as she blows the candles out, it’s pretty comforting to know that because of the internet, I have a best friend who is never more than a tweet, text or phone call away.

Happy birthday, little miss. I hope you have the most stellar day.


Things I Did While Sick


Every now and then I get a lump in my throat, and I’m not talking about the nervous, maybe-something-isn’t-right kind of lump. I get an actual protruding lump (sometimes two or three if I’m lucky!) sticking out of my neck, just below my jaw. And it isn’t pretty. And it makes me want to wear my hair all swept down around my face and neck and I was about to leave the house looking like that yesterday until my best friend, who I was accompanying on a trip to her work (My life is so much fun!), refused to be seen with me if I did. Which is saying something, considering she’d rather be seen with the girl with the golf ball neck. Yeah, the lump is like a perfectly round, hard golf ball. And yes, I went to the clinic, where I was told to just let this disease run it’s course. Usually they slice the lumps open and let them drain, but apparently this Mr. Doctor doesn’t seem to care that I’ve lost 5 pounds because I can’t eat anything other than frozen yogurt and gigantic slurpees. I want chips.

Because of the golf ball, I’ve spent the past few days lounging on the couch, watching an insane amount of tv (Did anyone else watch Turn The Beat Around? Was it not The Worst?). On Sunday though, my sweepy hair and I did go see a daytime showing of Shrek in 3D.

3D has a long way to go, if you ask me. I found myself giving my charming 3D glasses a little shake at times because they seemed defective. Why wasn’t the 3D keeping up with the running ogres? I mean, I really liked the movie, but I liked watching Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs in 3D better because at any given moment it seemed as though a cheeseburger was going to fall into my lap. Did not feel like a little ogre baby was going to jump out of the movie and into my arms during Shrek. Such a shame. The baby ogres are so cute!

Hmm. I thought I had more to talk about, in regards to Things I Did While Sick. I guess my roommate had it right when she told me “You’re being so boring!” 73 and a half times over the course of the past few days. Good news is that I’m feeling a bit better, which I hope in turn will make me less boring as this Saturday is Hats Off Day, which is my favourite day of the whole year. The day where I day drink and slide down fireman poles. Bad news is that there is still a golf ball in my neck, and it is raining.

Ah, the Canadian West Coast.

It’s always raining.


The Dos and Don’ts of Vegas


My Vegas vacation was everything I could have asked for, and a whole lot more. My friends and I had the awesome experience of flying in tiny little propeller planes,  indirectly, with stops in both Portland and Santa Rosa. And on the way back the flight that we thought was direct was not – we had a sprint of a layover in Seattle. My best suggestion here is to fork over the extra cash and fly direct. I mean, we had fun and all, but the longer you can spend in Vegas, and the less time you can spend in teensy planes, the better.

Tips for those of you who are embarking on BISC?

The Pub at the Monte Carlo does Ladies Drink Free from 6-7pm and 10-11pm. Go here. Drink lots. If you’re nice to your waiter, he will bring you multiple rounds at a time, and when the clock strikes 10:59, he’ll bring you a few more rounds in to-go cups. If I haven’t convinced you yet, their slogan is Drinks You Can’t Remember. I mean it: Go here.

Caesar’s Palace is huge. We got so extremely lost. I don’t have any advice here, other than if you get lost, just make the best of it. Have alcohol handy. And sit down when riding escalators to give your tired legs a break.

Bring an iPod dock for good tunes while getting ready and partying in your hotel room.

Sunscreen. Do it. (I didn’t. Ow.)

Four Loko. We met some locals who laughed at our Budweiser drinking ways. They told us to drink Four Lokos instead. So we did. And, I don’t know, maybe you already know about Four Loko? I don’t think we don’t have this stuff in Canada. It’s a 12% crazyass, get-you-drunk-right-now, sugary, caffeinated drink. Urban dictionary said something about liquid cocaine. Use your own discretion?

Go on the rollercoaster at NYNY. It is kind of bumpy, but the view of the strip is incredible. Also, the line moves wicked fast, so don’t get all intimidated by it.

The tram is closed between 4-8am. Just sayin’. I would have appreciated this warning.

Order doubles if you are drinking while gambling. And if you don’t like gambling (Hi! Me!) play penny slots. They are fun and sometimes you win. Play slowly = more drinks drinks drinks.

If you’re into watching the NBA/NHL Playoffs, or any other sport for that matter, go to the ESPN Zone at New York New York. TVs line the walls, every booth has individual tvs that you can change to whichever channel you’d like to watch, and personal speakers line each booth so you can listen to what you’re watching. We were in LV for both Canucks games, and the experience of watching the games here was outstanding.

I’m not going to give a rundown of every pub and every club we went to, because I truly believe that you’ll have fun anywhere you go. It is Vegas. Sure, I had a stellar time dancing at Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville, but I had an amazing time everywhere we went, and I’m sure I would have loved all the places we didn’t make it to. There wasn’t a place that I walked out of, thinking, Well, That Sucked. Just enjoy the ride.

And most importantly, be kind. Everyone we met fell in love with our sweet, Canadian ways, and the people you surround yourself with truly do make the trip.


Mid-April Things.


My hair.

Oh my hair. You see, my hair is naturally auburn, and I kept it that way until last summer, when I decided to use temporary BLACK dye on my precious locks. And well, the black dye loved my strands so much that it refused to entirely wash out. And so, I’ve spent the winter hoping that one day I’ll wake up and I’ll no longer have reddish roots with brown-y red hair. Unfortunately, not all dreams come true and has yet to happen. Two nights ago I had a complete hair meltdown, involving me crying to understanding friend, and you know when someone is trying to be helpful, but you are too crazy to see that? Yeah. Cause when she said ‘You’re hair doesn’t even look bad!’ I heard ‘Your hair is the worst hair on the face of the Earth.’ So last night I bought some more temporary dye, something called Pomegranate Crème that looked as though it might leave my hair looking reddish-gold-brown. And despite the dye frightening me as it was BRIGHT RED, and my understanding friend who kindly dyed it for me proclaiming ‘Woah, this is turning your scalp ORANGE!’, everything worked out. My hair isn’t as light as my natural colour, but it is closer, and it is definitely less root-ish than it has been in a while. $5 box dye win.


I. Leave. Tomorrow! I’m too excited to sleep. Or do anything besides talk about Sin City. I haven’t been on a real vacation since I went to California (Huntington Beach, Los Angeles, etc) for a week in July of 2008. I do fly a lot, and spend weekends in various Canadian cities with my team through the fall and winter, but I’m so stoked to board a plane with my best friends and head towards sunshine and alcohol. Feel free to leave any last minute tips in the comments!


The other day I had a Dairy Queen Blizzard for the first time since I stopped eating ice cream. It was delicious, until I was sick for two days. Verdict? Not worth it. There isn’t much ice cream in my future, apparently. In other food related news, I got kind of addicted to carrots, I guess? Basically, I was eating so many a day that I became sick. Not the skin turning orange sick, but the ‘you’re body can’t digest that much raw fiber (or something)‘ kind of sick where I had a constant stomach ache for a week, as I continued eating an insane amount of carrots not realizing what I was doing to myself. Carrots = Great in Moderation.


Touch Pull, Touch Pull.


A while back I mentioned that friends and I were joining a Street Jazz class, and considering we’re already at week 10ish out of 13ish, I suppose I could give an update on how the class has been going. In a single sentence: Street Jazz is singlehandedly the most ridiculous, uncomfortable form of activity I have done in my life. If you care for something a little longer, the following is how my Thursday nights have played out since January:

Arrive home from work at 5:45. Stomp about. Complain about having to go to Street Jazz and whine about how much more I’d rather watch Grey’s Anatomy and eat popcorn.

Change into my pajamas and eat dinner. Try to forget about Street Jazz.

Around 8 o’clock I get an abrupt reminder that I’m going to Street Jazz as the best friends begin to arrive at my door for our weekly pre-Street Jazz hang out sesh.

Lounge with best friends til 9:10. Complain about Street Jazz. Contemplate practicing our routine. Never actually practice routine.

At 9:10 I change out of my pajamas and we all pile into a car. We drive and listen to music and talk, unless we’re in T’s jeep which is way too loud to actually talk, so we just sing.

At 9:20 we all walk into the studio together. And Krista, our teacher, is standing at the far end of the room and she says Hiiiiii! in her happy voice and suddenly we hate Street Jazz a little less. Because it is hard to be grumpy around Krista.

And then we do warm up. And T can’t touch her toes. And Julia can’t do a pushup. And we laugh. We laugh so much.

And when we’re done warmup, Krista guides us through choreography, saying all the proper names for the moves that we refer to as The Hockey Stick Jig, or The Hula Hoop Spin. And sometimes we get frustrated because the music is too fast, and we’re too slow, or our arms refuse to follow the rhythm of our legs.

But suddenly we’re learning new choreography. And we’re counting. One and two, three and four, step five and six, seven and eight – TOUCH PULL, TOUCH PULL, TOUCH DUH-UHBLE, back left spin, jump jump stomp. Step one and two…

And we’re laughing again, because now Krista is trying to teach us to booty pop. In unison. And I’d like you to get 7 girls in a straightish line and have all of them shake their ass on the same count.

Time goes by pretty quickly, and before we know it, Krista is all “Have a great night” and we’re all smiles when we say “See you next week!”

So, overall, Street Jazz is awful when I’m not at Street Jazz. I think of all the times I was frustrated because I missed a couple counts and couldn’t catch up. I think about the things I could be doing instead of going to Street Jazz. But at the end of the day? I’m incredibly happy the five of us decided to join, as our Thursday nights have truly brought us closer together, and that in itself makes up for all the pre-dance stomping I tend to do.

Oh, and wish us luck at our performance in a couple weeks. Cause, uhm, we’re going to need it. Desperately.


The Cousin Gets Bonus Points


So you write all this jumble for your darling baby cousin, and when you check Facebook the next day, you see she’s posted a new album. You open the album and find that right after a few pictures of her and her dad, there are a group of photos like this:

And you’re proud, cause she gets it. And you realize that you’re writing this jumble for her simply in hopes that she never changes, because the gorgeous girl already has it all figured out.


Jumble For My 15 Year Old Cousin


{image via}

Live healthy.
Never try to look like Nicole Richie, like Victoria Beckham.
Don’t use gay as a derogatory term – it is rude, and makes you sound ignorant.
Be polite and respect your elders.
Wear clothes that don’t match, streak your hair PINK and paint your fingernails yellow. Who cares?
The best days of your life come without warning. Stop being so anxious.
Don’t worry about being popular, focus on being yourself.
Take your time. Smell the roses.
Don’t pigeonhole yourself, or others, by using labels.
Laugh until you develop crows feet, and then laugh some more.
You will likely go through a number of hard times, but cherish your family regardless – you can’t put conditions on blood.
If you fall, get up.
Quit stress. You’re likely missing out on life, and in turn, the answers to your fears.
Run. Practice yoga. Exercise your body and mind.
Be present, or you’ll end up missing out on everything that is meant to shape who you will become.
Remember, you are beautiful, and more than good enough, as you are.
Relax. Enjoy the journey.




{image via}

One of my birthday presents this year was a trip to Vegas. Inside an adorable card was a promise to take me to Sin City sometime this spring, which allowed me to help choose the dates and make sure nothing conflicted with traveling out of town for games during the regular season.

Not too long ago a date was decided on and in 20 days my three best friends and I are heading to Sin City. I’ve never been before and I can’t wait to get down there and be drunk poolside. And shopping with a beer in my hand. And all those fun things you can do in Vegas aside from gambling because I don’t care about putting my money into a little machine that likely won’t give it back.

Right now my friends and I are all being cutesy and going tanning together, which is weird and fun. Weird being having to call ahead to book multiple beds, and fun being that it makes going to the tanning salon bearable. I’ve also been logging a few extra minutes on the workout train, which makes me hate myself only a little bit. I’ve convinced myself the extra workouts are for spring and summer in general, not just Vegas, which I’m not sure is really better per se, but oh well. Abs make me happy.

I know a bazillion of you have been to Vegas. And a bazillion more are going in a couple months. Anything I must do?


Breaking Habits, Part 2


No Candy February was such a smashing success. I didn’t eat candy for the entire month, felt awesome even during the initial cravings, and when the 30 days were over, I didn’t race out to buy Skittles. As a matter of fact, I haven’t even had Skittles, or anything more than a few 5 cent candies in nearly two months. Knowing how great I feel without pouring a mess of sugar into my body kind of keeps me from wanting to do so, you know?

The habit I chose to break in March was to stop eating ice cream and to stop drinking milk, simply because I’m slightly lactose intolerant and well, milk and ice cream make me sick. But they taste so damn goooood. Well, chocolate milk does. And really, any flavour of ice cream.

For years and years I’ve avoided drinking a glass of regular milk because I know it makes me sick, but the second you add some chocolate syrup into the glass? I’m all over that cause suddenly it tastes so delicious. And yes, ice cream makes me sick as well but it is so creamy and sugary and awesome that I’ll order milkshakes and I’ll buy cartons to keep my freezer stocked all. the. time. But almost every time after I finished the cone/bowl/glass, I was hurting. And usually pretending I wasn’t cause it is kind of embarrassing to be like, “Yeah, I feel so sick, and yes, I know why, and yes, I did it on purpose.” It’s never been worth it, but as soon as I was back feeling better, I would forget how NOT WORTH IT it was, and I’d be back pouring Nesquick into my milk. So smart, I am.

Well, I did not have a glass of chocolate milk nor a scoop of ice cream in the entire month of March. And like the no candy thing, it has been awesome. Yeah, I would be kind of jealous when my friend ordered a milkshake while we were out for dinner. And yes, it was painful to actually make chocolate milk for friends at my house, and then have to pour myself a glass of water, but the thing is, I feel better. It is actually quite nice to have snacks that don’t leave me feeling nauseas. Like popcorn for example, or an apple all sliced up. A couple times I even had some So Good which is nowhere near as good as “real” chocolate milk but I keep trying to fool myself into believing it is, until the day I forget what “real” chocolate milk tastes like and I’m all “Oooh, this is good!”

I’ve completed my 30 days, and likewise to how I felt last month with candy, I have no desire to buy ice cream. In fact, I have a half eaten carton in my freezer that truly isn’t appealing. It is amazing how our bodies work, eh?

Thursday is the start of Breaking Habits, Part 3 and I had a little bit of trouble trying to figure out which habit I should break, knowing that I have a lot of time off work in the coming month, including a trip to Vegas! But I’ve figured it out, I’ll do it even though it’ll be rough, and I’ll be back here at the end of April to tell you all about it!

Any habits you’ve broken recently?


Kookie, Day 1


So this little monster was dropped off last night. And while this could be the sleep deprivation talking, because yes, she did whine for the majority of the night, when I look at this picture, I’m all, “Awe, she’s not so bad!”

And yeah, my landlord’s granddaughter took a pink stamp to Kookie’s head before they left for Mexico.