Archive for April, 2010

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Mid-April Things.

04/20/2010

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.

Vegas.

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!

Food.

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.

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Touch Pull, Touch Pull.

04/16/2010


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.

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The Cousin Gets Bonus Points

04/09/2010

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.

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Jumble For My 15 Year Old Cousin

04/07/2010

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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.

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Vegas!

04/01/2010

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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?