22 Hours To Live

What would you do if you only had one day to live?

In the words of the always profound Sean “P. Diddy” Combs: That’s some deep shit right there.

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Deep shit I’d never had to consider – until a few days ago.

I was sitting in my office food court, eating an overpriced salad and reading The Sun Also Rises (basically being unattainably cool), when suddenly, I felt something sharp pierce the back of my throat. I quickly dismissed it as an unusually rough-edged goji berry; or perhaps a physical reaction evoked by Hemingway’s flawless prose (I’ve heard he has that effect on the ladies). Washing away any residual doubt with a swig of coconut water, I returned to my lunch. It was then that I noticed a piece of my plastic knife missing. A solid two centimetres – amputated right at the tip. Collateral damage, presumably, from a struggle with a particularly tenacious leaf of organic kale.

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I searched frantically through my remaining salad for the rogue piece of plastic, but uncovered nothing but quinoa, chickpeas and despair. A slow trickle of panic began to seep over me as I realized what had gone down:

I had ingested a plastic utensil.

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I felt like Homer Simpson upon discovering he had eaten a poisonous Fugu fish and had only twenty-two hours to live.

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My short life flashed before my eyes. I can’t die, I thought, I don’t even have my own reality show yet.

It occurred to me that I had better tell someone; lest I fall into a deep coma, rendering me unable to communicate my transgression to the House: MD wannabe charged with my case. I shot off a few quick texts to friends and family, informing them of my certain and untimely demise.

In an attempt to quell my now-swelling waves of panic, I took to Google. Although several message boards assured me that it would inevitably “pass”, others provided harrowing tales of objects lodged in small intestines, internal bleeding, hemorrhaging and even death.

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Since I am a pessimist with moderate to severe anxiety, I automatically feared the worst. I could die at any moment, right there in the food court. No one would even notice in the lunch hour rush. The cleaning lady would find me, hours later, slumped over my chair, book dangling limply in hand. “We don’t know much about her,” she would say, “Except that she loved salad, and contemporary classics”.

I needed to snap out of it. When Homer was given his death sentence, he didn’t despair. He quietly accepted his fate, making a list of all the things he wanted to do before he died.

I flipped to the notes section of my iPhone and titled a fresh page “Death List”.

1. Sleep In.

2. Eat Cupcakes (Why count calories when you’re a goner?)

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3. Do Yoga. (If I’m gonna die, I might as well be Zen about it.)

4. Tell my friends and family I love them

And so on.

I quickly took stock of my list. “Quit job spectacularly” seemed a bit dramatic. And finding a life-size penguin suit might prove difficult on short notice. The rest, however, I felt fairly confident I could accomplish.

I spent the rest of my day carrying out the items on my list- eating copious baked goods, clearing out my PVR, not wearing pants. Before I went to bed, I called my mom and told her I loved her. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked “Is this about that knife you swallowed at lunch time?”

Since the Larry King version was unavailable on iTunes, I instead chose to lull myself to sleep with The Word of Promise, a star-studded (and extremely misguided) audio version of the bible featuring Jim Caviezel as Jesus, Gary Sinise as David and Jason Alexander as Joseph.

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Confident (and also, strangely comforted) that the last words I would ever hear would be The Loaves and the Fishes as told by George Costanza and Lieutenant Dan, I fell into a deep and final sleep.

I awoke the next morning, heart still beating; drool still warm. Despite all signs to the contrary, it seemed I would live to freak out another day. Like Homer, I promised myself that I would reform: cherish my loved ones, eat healthier, practice the golden rule. But only a few days later, here I sit, eating a cupcake, just as self-absorbed and bitchy as ever. Perhaps bitchier.

That’s not to say I’ve learned nothing from this experience. Although our motives may differ, I’ve joined David Suzuki’s tireless crusade against plastic cutlery. More importantly, I’ve ordered an eerily lifelike penguin suit from Amazon, so that the next time I unwittingly ingest a toxic substance (and sadly, there will be a next time) – I’ll be ready.

Question of the Day: What would you do if you only had 22 hours to live?

The Running Dead

I don’t mean to make this overly dramatic or anything… but I think I am being stalked by zombies.

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It all started on Saturday afternoon. I was heading to the mall for a free Chanel makeup consultation (priorities, people) when I noticed a few passengers on the subway who looked a bit… off. At first I attributed their pallor and trance-like appearances to general public transit-related malaise (been there); however my tune quickly changed when I noticed their ripped and soiled clothing, open wounds and blood dripping from every orifice.

These weren’t just fellow disillusioned passengers-  these, my friends, were The Undead.

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No sooner had I realized who (or what) I was dealing with than the doors opened, unleashing a second wave of soulless corpses into my cramped subway car. Each was bloody, disgusting, and slightly more terrifying than the last. There was a man with his entire chest blown open; another with a bolt protruding from his neck, like a modern-day Frankenstein… only wearing with an iPod. There was even a female zombie holding an (un) dead baby.

Fearful, I hugged my pole closer and averted my gaze. In order to project the air that I could actually afford designer makeup, I had dressed up for the occasion. The last thing I needed was some flesh-eater dripping fake blood onto my designer knock-off booties.

When the subway reached my station, I hurried out of the car only to realize I was being followed by a zombie army. Thinking enough was enough, I approached a young, non-threatening looking (minimally bloody) zombie and asked her where they were going.

“Uh, the Zombie Walk?” she responded, “At Nathan Phillips Square?”

The what in the where now?

A quick Google search informed me that the “Zombie Walk” is an annual event where hundreds dress up as Zombies, march the streets of Toronto and generally scare the beejesus out of fraidy-cats like me.

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I found this to be highly disturbing, but also fascinating. I’ve never really understood the allure of zombies- mostly because the sight of blood makes me nauseous. Also, I’m scared of my own shadow. (I haven’t been able to watch a scary movie since I saw Pet Cemetery in grade 3 and couldn’t use the bathroom with the door shut for a year.) But despite my cowardice, there seem to be a lot of people who just can’t get enough of the stuff: Zombie movies, zombie survival camps, zombie training books. To each their own I guess?

Anyway, I tried to forget the whole traumatizing experience and instead just focus on getting my face on (Which resulted in being traumatized instead, by the amount of money I spent on products. WHY am I such a sucker). Despite my best efforts, however, I still ended up having highly detailed nightmares about zombie babies and zombie women with perfect smokey eyes and bold lips.

Needing to clear my head of all Zombie and makeup-related terror, I decided to head out for a run on Sunday morning. It was a beautiful autumn day, and everything was going swimmingly, until I saw this sign:

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DUN DUN DUN

Just then, I heard a commotion behind me, and turned to see a gaggle of bloody, tattered corpses turning the corner and heading in my general direction.

I was like:

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The expression “run for your life” took on a whole new meaning for me that day. With Zombies hot on my trail, I took off like a bat out of hell, turning my iPod on full blast and not looking back. Every once in a while I’d get a waft of fake blood, and a zombie would pass me and make threatening gestures in my direction- no doubt enjoying the sight of fresh meat.

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Eventually, however, I was able to lose them when the race path turned off into a densely wooded area. (CREEPY).

The upshot? I ended up clocking my fastest (unofficial) 5k time ever. And I must admit that the whole thing was a little exhilarating. Maybe I should recruit a couple of zombies to follow me in my 10K race this weekend?

…. Nah.

Question of the Day: Are You Into Zombies? What’s With the Hype?

Throwback Thursday: Halloween Candy

Halloween is right around the corner, and since I’m too lazy busy deciding which ironic Halloween costume to wear (Miley Cyrus wrecking ball?

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Or Baby North West?),

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I thought I’d go into the vault and pull out this little gem I first published back in October, 2011.

Originally part of a feature I did called Turn Up The Good: Turn Down The Suck, where I profiled a few things that were good, followed by a few things that sucked (genius, I know), this post is all about my favourite thing in the world (besides wine) – Candy! enjoy.

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Halloween is by far my favourite holiday of the year. Not only does it give you free license to wear whatever the hell you want and call it a “costume”, it’s also the day on which such A-List celebrities as Vanilla Ice, Rob Schnieder and (drumroll please)…. yours truly, were born. So that’s why, for this edition of Turn Up the Good, Turn down The Suck – I thought I would focus on one of the best parts of this glorious day: CANDY.

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As a child, I put the “anal” in “analyze”. This was especially true of Halloween. I would return from trick or treating, dump my goods on my bedroom floor, and proceed to spend hours poring over my loot and categorizing its contents; determining which pieces were to be consumed first and which saved for later. By the time I was done constructing all of my little piles, my room looked like an episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive- but it was worth it. My rationing ensured that I would be adequately supplied with candy until Christmas (or at least until my older brothers got a hold of it.)

Sure they look cute… but these boys CANT BE TRUSTED

Anyway- as evidenced by my story, not all Halloween candy was created equal: so here I present to you a list of the best (turn up the good) and worst (turn down the suck) of Halloween candy:

Turn Up the Good

1. Full Size Chocolate Bars: otherwise known as the holy grail of trick or treating. Like unicorns (yes, exactly like unicorns), these were scarce. Neighbourhood kids would discuss which houses were giving full-size bars away, and make special trips just to get them. God bless these generous individuals.

2. Reese Peanut Butter Cups: I realize this one is slightly subjective. You can feel free to insert your favourite fun-size chocolate bar here- but damn I loved me some Reeses. Guaranteed to make the top cut of any sorting round.

2. Full Cans of (NAME BRAND ONLY) Pop (None of that No-name cola shit): I hesitated to add this one, simply because of the sheer weight these puppies add to your treat bag. However, it’s a cross I was always willing to bear in order to have unlimited cans of Pepsi at my disposal throughout November….

4. Homemade Shit: This makes the list due to its elusive nature. Homemade cookies? Quaint little bags of popcorn tied up lovingly with ribbons? CANDY APPLES? Sure they all looked amazing- but kid, you might as well just forget about it. If your parents were anything like mine, all that gloriousness was being thrown in the trash faster than you could say “this isn’t actually a costume“.

Homemade halloween treats- I salute you. Though your creators may be creepy, and you may contained concealed razor blades- your potential deliciousness transcends.

Turn Down the Suck

1. Rockets: AKA a cheap-ass waste of valuable treat bag space…. or, as a friend of mine rightly clarified: “a waste of EARTH space”.

2. Mollases Kisses: You know the ones I’m talking about. A sort of caramel/tootsie roll/ black licorice hybrid that have been around forever, and for some reason still persists. These choking hazards shouldn’t be given to CHILDREN- they should be reserved for old men who are missing most of their teeth so they can kill some time. I’m not feelin it.

3. Unmarked bags of potato chips: This was always a crapshoot. Emblazoned only with the “Hostess” or “Humpty Dumpty” logo all over them, you never knew what you were going to get. You risked wasting potential treats if you opened it up and didn’t like that kind, and for the weirdo kids like me, this created a nightmare for categorization.

Like this… EXCEPT NOT

4. Non-Food Related Items

Pencils, erasers, religious pamphlets… basically anything that made you roll your eyes behind the mask of your Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles costume and go “REALLY?”

Bitches be fundamentally misunderstanding the concept of Halloween, yo..

Question of the Day: What were your favourite/ least favourite Halloween Treats?

Premature E-Publication

I accidentally hit “publish” on a blog post before it was ready this morning.

The whole experience was shocking, terrifying, embarrassing, and all sorts of other negative emotions ending in “ing”. Sort of like when you inadvertently hit “reply all” on an e-mail.

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A few years back, my roommate, who was also my coworker at the time, accidentally sent an e-mail intended for me to our entire company. That’s over 2,000 people in multiple offices around North America. Although the e-mail itself was relatively innocuous, I still came home to find her in bed, curled up in a ball of shame and self-loathing, wailing “I’ll never work in this town again!” into a pint of Haagen Dazs.

That’s sort of how I felt this morning. How could I possibly have sent this piece of nonsensical drivel to 1,592 inboxes? With one fell swoop, my carefully constructed curtain of thesaurus words, platitudes and strategically placed GIFs had been lifted – exposing me for the fraud I am deep down inside.

I was certain my short-lived career as a mediocre blogger was over.

The funny thing is, though, that before I even had a chance to mark the post “private” (which took me like 10 minutes, since I’m kind of a Luddite) I actually received a few “likes” and comments on it.

My first thought was that these benevolent commenters felt so sorry for my epic fail that they simply wanted to ensure I didn’t impale myself over any sharp objects in my apartment. However, it occurred to me later that perhaps they just hadn’t been reading that critically. Maybe they just identified with the overall subject matter of the post (which was about invasion of personal space), and didn’t care that much about my sloppy sentences or lack of hilarious GIFs.

I guess the point I’m trying to make here, is that we bloggers shouldn’t really be so hard on ourselves. While quality is important, it’s not the be all and end all. 99% of your readers don’t care about consistency of tenses and appropriate use of semi-colons; they just want material they can relate to.

……and maybe the occasional Paul Rudd dancing GIF:

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Question of the Day: Have you ever had a premature e-publication? How did you feel?

Fancy A Spot of Tea?

I don’t know about you guys, but I love a good tea party.

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As a little girl, I hosted them on the reg. I had a miniature table and chairs in my bedroom solely for that purpose, and had no fewer than 6 different tea sets on rotation at any given moment. I would serve “tea” (Sunny Delight) and “crumpets” (cut up Toaster Strudels) to my distinguished guests; a rotating cast of my favourite toys du jour. Regulars included:

  • my Cabbage Patch doll Celine Ilse (apparently she was French Canadian??);
  • a talking Teddy Ruxpin, that, looking back was completely terrifying;
  • an incredibly sexist Teen Talk Barbie that said things like “Math is hard!” and “Will we ever have enough clothes?”;
  • myriads of My Little Ponies;
  • Quints;

Remember these weirdos?

…and just to add a little masculinity to the mix, several of my brothers’ G.I. Joe figurines.

Yep, it was a real equal opportunity affair. 

Since apparently throwing lavish gatherings for your stuffed animals is no longer “socially acceptable” after the age of 12, I’ve experienced a marked decline in the number of tea parties I attend in my adult life. 

That’s why I was beyond excited when one of my coworkers invited me to an afternoon tea party at her house last weekend. With real live humans!!

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The invitation indicated that the dress code was casual, but that “Fascinators were encouraged”.

Challenge: accepted. 

Somehow, despite being neither British nor fancy, I have managed to accumulate a sizeable collection of obnoxious head pieces over the years. (I don’t know what this says about me as a person. I don’t care to find out.)

I thought about pulling out this one from the tickle trunk:

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But instead opted for this more understated headband variety:

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….paired with a giant (faux) fur vest and a fancy-ass brooch with a horse on it.

What? Don’t be such a neigh-sayer. 

I also upped my accessory game with my new bracelet stack; because nothing screams
class  like 18 lbs of gold-plated joo-ree you bought from the Shopping Channel.

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I arrived,dripping in elegance, to discover that the hostess had prepared an amazing spread of treats:

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Seriously-  it was insani-tea!! (Sorry. I’m done with the puns now).

Besides all of this glorious food, she also brewed some delicious loose leaf tea which she served in these fancy little cups.

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There were seven girls in attendance, and we snuggled up in the living room and spent a few cozy hours munching on macarons and dishing about men. The weather outside was terrible and rainy, but I didn’t really mind, because it sort of made me feel like Carey Mulligan in The Great Gatsby.

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Because I am delusional.

………..And then the Chardonnay came out. And I think my story ends here.

Question of the Day: Have you ever been to a tea party? High Tea?

Friday Five – Music, Movies and My New Vacuum Cleaner

TGIF Guys!

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Time for some random things I’ve been thinking about this week:

1. Dyson Vacuums

In what was potentially the most grown-up purchase I have ever made, I bought a Dyson Vacuum online yesterday.

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Yes, my life has really come to writing about vacuum cleaners.

I mentioned to my coworker that I needed a new vacuum, and she directed me to the Dyson refurbished site where you can get refurbished vacuums with full warranty at discounted prices.

Not gonna lie, it was still a substantial investment (for the price of this puppy, I’m expecting it to be gilded in solid gold); but apparently Dysons are like the Cadillac of vacuums and have all sorts of crazy features and European technology. Do any of you guys have one?  Is it going to change my life?? Cause I’m beginning to wonder if I should’ve just sprang for Rosie from the Jetsons instead….

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2. This Song

3. 15 Reasons To Live

I saw this documentary last week at The Bloor Hot Docs Cinema in Toronto and really enjoyed it. It’s by Canadian filmmaker, Alan Zweig, who was inspired by a list his friend wrote of his 15 reasons to live. Zweig set out to find a story to match each one, and compiled them all into this lovely little film. While I enjoyed and identified with certain stories more than others, I would still recommend checking it out.. especially if you need a good ugly cry. (Toronto showtimes here)

4. My New Writing Class

I recently started a new writing class at The University of Toronto, and our first assignment was to write about our first memories. I assumed we would just hand them in to the teacher, but NO. Instead, we did a “self-editing exercise” where we handed our stories to the person on our right and had THEM READ IT ALOUD.  I was like:

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SO nerve-wracking, guys. I almost ran screaming from the class right there on the spot, but it actually ended up being sort of helpful-  you got to hear how your story sounded from a (somewhat) objective perspective, and which parts worked and which fell flat. Still, though, I think for now I’ll stick to hiding behind my screen

5.  Misguided Running Aspirations

So I signed up for a 10k race on November 3rd. I don’t know why. I guess I just hate myself.

friday7 Also, it gives me an excuse to eat an obscene amount of pancakes afterwards.

Stacks on stacks on stacks

Stacks on stacks on stacks

Anyway, now I have to train for this noise, which is even more painful than usual for two reasons:

1. My headphones broke last week, and I have since  been using the Air Canada in-flight variety. They have a maximum volume of like, 2, and make everything sound vaguely underwater. (Headphone suggestions ??)

2. I accidentally washed a fuchsia Lululemon top with the rest of my laundry the other day and turned ALL of my workout clothes a slight tinge of pink. I now feel like the Elle Woods of mediocre running.

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So yeah, I’m feeling pretty good about this!!!

Question of the Day:

Have you ever taken a writing class? Do you want to?

P.S. If you haven’t already, please go read my post about Scott Jones and support him!

5 Tips For Surviving A Rough Day At The Office

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Much like our friend Peter, the lovable yet woefully unmotivated protagonist of the film Office Space, we’ve all had a few rough days at the office. Whether it be a demanding boss, unending office politics, or an overabundance of TPS reports, sh*t is bound to hit the fan and leave you in it’s sh*tty wake.

Unfortunately, you’re going to have to find a way to deal with it- lest you end up shaving your head, drinking tiger blood and setting fires in old lady’s driveways.

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(Yes, I realize I may have conflated a few celebrity breakdowns there. To be clear, I wish this fate upon no one.)

Here are a few things I do to help get me through a tough day at the office:*

(*Note this list does not include wine, because wine is obviously a given.):

1. Listen To Music

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Back when I worked at a law firm and  hated life had my own office, I used to rock Songza all day err’day. Songza, if you’re not familiar, is an online satellite radio program that suggests music for you based on the time of day and the activity you’re doing.

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I found it really helped put me in a better mood while I worked and even increased my productivity. Now that I’m in an open concept environment, I can’t listen to tunes while I work, so I make sure to get my music fix in during other times of the day. I blast pump-up tunes while I get ready in the mornings, rock out on the subway, and go for quick walks with my iPod during the day when I need a little break.

 2. Eat Chocolate

My office building connects to Toronto’s underground PATH system, a veritable labyrinth of underground shopping malls and services stretching over multiple city blocks. This is both convenient and extremely dangerous- mostly because of the Godiva chocolate store right around the corner.

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While I am often successful in thwarting it’s advances, on a bad day, resistance is futile. To avoid dropping $8 on two miniature pieces of candy, I often just walk in and linger long enough for them to offer me a free sample, then slip out undetected. I’m not proud of this behavior. Lately, I’ve also been binging on enjoying funsize Halloween chocolate bars. They’re too small to have calories, right?

3. Stay Caffeinated

Since busting out a box of wine and pouring myself a nice tall glass of Pinot Greeg at my desk is mildly inappropriate, Starbucks has become the next best thing.

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While I’m partial to the PSL (uuh Pumpkin Spice Latte) I’ve also been into David’s Tea lately.

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This mecca of all things steeped has something like 80 flavours of tea.. including “Movie Night”, which has REAL POPCORN IN THE TEA BAG.

I feel like that sounded dirty. Let’s move on.

4. Read A Book

Sad but true story: for 30-45 minutes every day at lunch, I walk to a nearby food court, take out my book, and read. Alone.

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It started as a way to squeeze in my stupidly ambitious 52 Books in 52 Weeks challenge, but it’s since become something I look forward to every day; a necessary break for the preservation of my sanity. Plus, I can’t help but feel like someone might see me and write me a Craigslist Missed Connection. (I know. I’m obsessed).

 5. Do Some Yoga

Remember when I first wrote about my experience with hot yoga? Well I’m pleased to report that I actually stuck with it, and am now a bona fide yogi.

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Just kidding, I still really suck, but I have been going about twice a week for the past two months or so. I’ve found it really helps with both the stiffness of sitting at a desk all day and my overall stress levels. It’s also sort of improved my overall outlook on life. Seriously. Yogatta try it.

So there you have it. I’ll be honest- most of the time none of this really works, and I just end up going home, pouring myself a giant glass of wine and crying on the couch to Extreme Weight Loss.. but hey, worth a shot, right?

Question of the Day: How Do you Get Through a Rough Day At Work?

A Climb To Remember

Looking back, the summer of 1990 was a rough time for everyone involved. The Gulf War was in full swing, a sharp recession swept the global economy, and MC Hammer’s “Can’t Touch This” was a number one single.

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As if these atrocities weren’t enough, it was also the year my mom went back to work part-time, leaving my dad with five wily rug rats to contend with during one of the hottest summers on record in Nova Scotia.

My sisters, teenagers at the time, could mostly fend for themselves; however my brothers (10 and 12) and I (only four) required constant entertainment to keep from tearing each other’s heads off.

Dad tried taking us to the playground; but the monkey bars proved too perilous. Our trips to the beach resulted only in jellyfish stings and heartache. Eventually, he gave up, bought a bucket of KFC and took us to Greenhill Provincial Park. A picnic in the park, he (undoubedtly) thought, what  could possibly go wrong?

The park offered panoramic views of the entire county, and in those days there was a tower several stories high you could climb to get a better look.

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Immediately upon arrival my brothers rushed to the tower, with me following right behind them.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked my brother Kristin, “This isn’t for babies!”

“I’m not a baby!” I protested, “I’m four and a half!”

“You’re not allowed!” contested my brother Stephen.

“Can I dad?” I pleaded

“Go ahead,” he sighed, lifting a drumstick defeatedly, “but be careful.”

With a satisfied grin, I began climbing the ladder, taking the first few rungs with vigor. I was feeling quite smug- until I looked down. The ground appeared miles away; my dad and his bucket of chicken nothing but a red and white dot on the horizon. Above me, the ladder seemed to extend infinitely.

My lip began to quiver.

“Hurry up!” shouted Stephen, a few rungs ahead.

“She’s scared,” chimed in Kristin. “I told you she was a baby!”

Tears burned the backs of my eyes, but resolve stirred deep within me. I was Jack, and this was my proverbial Beanstalk. I would climb this tower if it was the last thing I did.

Somehow, through sheer adrenaline, blind faith and four-year-old will, I made it to the top. Ready to bask in my accomplishment, I stepped onto the platform, took a long gaze around, and…… immediately began to bawl like a baby.

“DADDY!!” I wailed, “IT”S TOO HIGH!!!”

Inconsolable and paralyzed by fear, my father was forced to abandon his chicken and momentary peace to climb up the tower and rescue me.

“It’s ok,” he said later, wiping away my tears with a half soiled wet-nap. “You can try again next year.”

But I didn’t. Not that year, or any year after. Instead, I developed a life long fear of heights (and, vaguely, wet-naps). However, I did learn one important lesson that day which continues to guide my decision-making process: when given the choice between taking a risk and staying firmly on the ground with a bucket of fried chicken- always, always ,choose the chicken.

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Question of the Day: What Is Your First Memory?

A Very Nova Scotia Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving friends! Today, I am thankful for family, friends, health, happiness, and most of all the homemade apple crisp I’ve been caning like nobody’s business.

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yeaaah buddy.

Also wine.

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Always wine.

My friend Lia, who is from Vancouver, came home with me for the holidays, and I’ve had a blast showing her all that the thriving metropolis of Pictou County has to offer. I just hope she can handle the excitement. Watching all THREE Back To The Future Movies in one day is a lot for anyone to handle.

Anyway, since I’m still in a semi-food coma from yesterday’s feast, here are a few pictures of my Thanksgiving weekend in beautiful Nova Scotia:

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Greenhill Lookoff.. not a bad view

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I don’t eat Oysters west of New Brunswick

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I don't blame her. The pumpkin is inherently a lot more interesting.

I don’t blame her. The pumpkin is inherently a lot more interesting.

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Hold onto your loved ones tight today, and have an extra piece of pumpkin pie for me :)

Question of the Day:

(cliché alert)

What Are You Thankful for?

Friday Five

It’s been a long week, amiright guys?

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Thanks for sticking it out with me for another week of daily posts. Just to recap, I:

If you haven’t checked them out already, make sure to do so. I loved reading all of your feedback – especially the amazing high school fashion moments. Y’all had serious swagger.

So since it’s Friday, and I’m straight-up spent, here are 5 random things I’ve been thinking about this week:

1. Ja’Mie: Private School Girl

If you’ve ever watched the hilarious HBO Mockumentary Summer Heights High, then you already know and love the priceless J’Amie King.

"Public schools are so random!"

“Public schools are so random!”

Well, somewhere the television Gods are smiling down on us because Ja”mie now has HER OWN SHOW!

Played by Chris Lilley (yes, that’s a grown-ass man, folks) the show premieres on November 24 on HBO and follows Ja’Mie on her final weeks of high school. Here’s a link to the 11 best moments from the trailer… and if you just can’t get enough Ja’Mie, Lily wrote a great post recently on her love affair with the profound, completely self-aware high-schooler.

2. This Sweet Hat

I stumbled across this amazing hat at the Drake General Store the other day (side note- do NOT go in there if you are on a budget. You will walk out $200 poorer with more novelty salt and pepper shakers than you know what to do with) and I knew I had to own it right then:

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East Coast represent! It’s almost making me kind of excited for it to get cold out. Almost.

3. Emergen-C

So earlier this week I started to feel that telltale tickle in my throat, and freaked the eff out. I hate being sick and am the ultimate baby, so I knew I had to nip those germies in the bud. I started taking Cold FX (which is really just a super-high dose of Echinacea), when one of my coworkers recommended this god-send of a product

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You guys. This stuff is AMAZING. It’s basically a super concentrated dose of Vitamin C in powder form that you dissolve in water. Each packet has something like 15 times your daily recommended intake, and gives you an immediate little boost of energy. The guy at the health food store told me that Viatmin C “megadosing” is apparently a thing now and will cure whatever ails you. In Vegas, they even do straight Vitamin C IV’s to cure hangovers!

So of course after hearing this, I’ve become obsessed with consuming as much Vitamin C as humanly possible.  I’m supposed to be maxing out at 2 of these little packets a day, but I’ve been taking……… more than that. Although I don’t think there are any real side effects, last night I started to worry that I might turn orange. You know, like when babies  eat too many pureed carrots?

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Will you all still be my friends if my skin turns a vibrant shade of Burnt Sienna? Who knows, maybe I’ll end up with my own reality show?? A girl can dream….

4. Celebrity Breakups

First it was Catherine and Michael. Then Miley and Liam. Then, after 22 years of reality shows marriage Kris and Bruce Jenner.

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Now it’s THE JONAS BROTHERS???

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What is the world coming to? (And don’t you dare say “their senses”. Smart A$$).

5. Thanksgiving (and Nova Scotia, Eh?)

This Monday is Canadian Thanksgiving, and I’m off to Nova Scotia to spend the weekend with my family and friends.

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I can’t wait to chill with my nieces, go for pointless drives around town and start the 72-hour food-to-mouth train rolling.  As the youngest of 5, Thanksgiving has always been quite the scene in my house. If you are bored or need a sleep aid, here’s a little story I wrote about my family and Thanksgiving last year.

Question of the Day: What are your plans for Thanksgiving?

(or if you’re not a Canuck, what are you up to this weekend?)