I have bought a new cookbook called Joyous Health and I am totally obsessed with it. I realize I have mentioned it to every second person I have talked to. I started following the author’s blog and also following her on Facebook. I have made the most amazing power balls (just so I can say power balls) and gluten free muffins known to mankind! But it’s crossing a line. This morning Hennie was like, “I noticed you took your cookbook to bed with you last night, is this something we need to talk about?” I explained to him that if there was a fire or an emergency of some kind, having the ingredients for goji berry muffins at my fingertips would make all the difference. Ok. I’m addicted to food porn. While I watch tv and flip through the pages I drool over raspberry cheesecakes smoothies and coconut banana pancakes.Stop judging me world! I love weird food! I am as pretentious as Gwyneth Paltrow and I know it! Ok done.

When I call my mechanic (almost bi-weekly) to ask him to look at my car because something is making a “funny noise” I tend to refer to it as the ancient Honda. He knows exactly who I am and which car I am referring to. When I took it in last week he asked me why the car keychain said Tina on it. I explained that was her name. He asked if it was from Napolean Dynamite. I had no idea what he was referring it to but he told me something about a donkey. I was insulted. I had not named her after a donkey but a lady! A classy, kick ass, Proud Mary, friends-with-Oprah, Buddhist, amazing lady. I told him I had listened to Tina non stop when I got the car because it was the only cassette I owned but then of course the cassette player broke. But Tina is still one classy lady and my car will carry on the strong woman legacy (until it totally shits out which could be any day now).

So I went to a gong meditation yesterday. I have been to it before. I quite like it. But something crazy happens to me after the meditation. It should be about healing and letting go and letting it flow through you and I get that. But for some reason, after the meditation and I take off the eye pillow I have used to force my eyes shut I am completely blind. I cannot focus my eyes for hours! I am in a glaucoma haze which is intensely weird and also makes me look like I have a twitch because I blink every four seconds and try and rub my eyes repeatedly. So, in conclusion, gong meditation does not heal me, it makes me blind. These are interesting times we live in people.

I am always shocked to overhear people at my various jobs talking about nutrition or healthy eating. I am by no means an expert but people are very, very opinionated about this subject whether they actually know anything or not. One lady asked me if I had ever had wild salmon. I told her no I have been a vegetarian for as long as I can remember. She looked at me and told me because I did not eat meat I would be very sick as an adult and would probably die young. Yikes! That was news to me lady! I thought us veggies lived longer?! Who knows. Some ladies were talking about a “diet” they were on but they couldn’t seem to lose weight. Then they both ordered chai lattes with skim milk. I felt reading out the sugar content in their chai syrup and the carb content in low fat skim milk but I left it alone. They were talking about how skim is way better and they drink milk all the time. Do I, they ask? Nope my friends, I do not drink milk at all, never have, never will. We are much more an almond milk and coconut milk type people. And then, the people that are eating healthy are SO EXCITED to see gluten free chocolate brownies!! Because I think in their head gluten free = salad. Even if it is covered in sugar and chocolate and butter, it is still gluten free god dammit. Practically a vegetable!Things without gluten are the equivalent of broccoli! That gluten free brownie is practically chopped carrots! Yikes.

So I watched darts again at the gym today. What has become of this sport? It should be old dudes in traditional thatched roof pubs, smoking pipes and gazing at pictures of her Majesty the Queen, playing this game. But no, now it is large middle aged men in the midst of a freak show of fans. The one guy playing had a faux hawk that was died orange and the shaved bits on the side were painted white and I-hope-to-god-it-was-face-paint but there was a giant snake mouth on the side of his head/face. I thought, that dude must be a pretty good darts player to come out looking like Carrot Tops meets Hell Angels mixed with tattoo fails. He seems pretty cocky. He was playing an ordinary looking bald bloke who looked terribly boring next to snake face. Don’t get me wrong, I think darts is amazing. It’s the only sport you can comfortably play with a pint in your hand the whole time in a pub. That, to me, is the best sport in the world. But the freak show part was not even the players, it was the fans!! Some were dressed up as smurfs, a group had matching giraffe puppets on their hands, one dude had a Lebron James mask on, it was a total riot! I looked up pictures and British dart fans and there are loads of pics of people dressed up at Oompah Loompahs, Wallace & Gromit, elves, Mario & Luigi and so much more! I have no idea what any of these costumes had to do with darts but it looked like pure madness. I remember when the dress code for going out in England was just to look like a total tart, but now, you need a full Halloween costume! God Bless the Brits and the darts league, god bless.

The other exciting thing that happened at the gym today was that I ran on a treadmill. RAN! Finally, after months of going to the gym, I pushed my irrational treadmill fears aside, tried to block out “the treadmill incident” and ran! In public! At oner point I started tearing up, which is hilarious. I think people must have thought I was a serious darts fan to have a little tear up there on the treadmill…watching snake face LOSE to ordinary bloke. People must have thought I was a die hard snake face fan. I guess I kind of am now. Anyways, I ran! And when I went to check my heart rate it was not in athletic training mode or endurance, it was off the charts. Or I’m sure as other people call it, the heart attack zone. Yeah me!

Well I just went snowshoeing for the first time. Let’s discuss the misadventure that was this. First of all I could not figure out how to put the snowshoes on. There were no instructions, just many knobs and strappy things that all outdoor sporting stores are full to the brim with. Then after figuring it out on my first foot by sitting down and really tightening every strap I could find I decided it was on right. I stood up to put the second one one but just as I was finishing I fell over. I felt turtled. I couldn’t understand how to get up with two snowshoes on. After some serious beached whale action I managed to scoot over to an outdoor tap I could use as something to grab onto while I pulled myself up. I was up! I was excited! I had finally managed to put on two snowshoes and was ready to be the Canadian Jesus of snow, angelicly floating on the cold white stuff. The first step I took felt powerful, almost surreal. Then with my second step my foot sank down a bit into the snow. With my third step I sank even farther until, with my fourth step, I sank so low into the snow that it started going into my boot. I made it to the bird feeder to fill it and then disappointingly trudged back to the front door. What a let down! My snowshoes were obviously broken and my Jesus experience ruined. I am over snowshoeing, we are done.

Sorry another music rant. I know I will never be a true hipster because I absolutely do not get Arcade Fire. The first time I ever heard the whole reflector song was when they were on SNL. I felt like anyone pretentious enough to sing mainly one word for 10 minutes on a comedy sketch show should be more aware of their audience. Comedy is an ADD cornucopia of quick wit and lightning fast zings and then these dudes dressed like eighties hipster trekkies came out and almost danced and sang the word reflector over and over again. It ground my gears so much. It felt like a form of torture sent right from Quebec. Quebec was providing me with emotions, just like their slogan. But they were negative emotions. Anyways, the point is I just found out the name of the album is “Reflektor” as is the name of the tour. I swear to god, If I hear that word one more freakin time…They are probably an amazing band but I can’t think of any of their other songs and this one makes me lose my mind. The end.

I keep sending house rental links to my friend Rachelle who we are moving in with in Ottawa this summer. I love the banter that goes on. Love the house but did you know that it’s in Barrhaven? Me-NOOO Barfhaven, no way, we are not living in the burbs. Then I sent another one and she thought it was nice on the inside but from the outside looked like it was in the slums. I thought that the slummy character would be excellent for people watching and may be exciting enough to maybe have to call the cops on occasion. It would be an “exciting” place to live. I would put slums in my pro category.

You know when you walk out into a parking lot and have that moment of panic because you have absolutely no idea where you parked your car? But at least if you don’t have an ancient car (like I do) you can remotely flash the lights or something to help you guide the way? I now have this problem at the gym. I walk into the locker room after a workout and panic as I look at all the lockers and realize I have no idea where I put my stuff. But there is no beeping or flashing lights option. I have to look like a creeper and open a million other lockers before coming to my own. Yikes. Total gym amnesia. Maybe all my rippling muscles are sucking energy from my brain…is that a thing? Does that happen? Oh wait…what rippling muscles…

There is a house for sale in CP and there is a little sign above the sale sign that reads “Bigger than it looks!” and every time I drive by I plan out doing some late night guerilla comedy and making a big sign beside it that says “That’s what he said.” Because it would be awesome. The last time I got ballsy enough to do some good ol’ vandalism, as I am sure I mentioned in other blogs, my friend Rob and I spray painted the sign that announced the new Wal-Mart coming in CP. We dressed all in black, made a plan and then spray painted “Consumer Whore” on the sign. Well, Rob had a little mess-up with the paint can and might have actually wrote “Consumer Whobe” but I imagine it still got our point across. So badass!

I think I’m the only gal in town that when I run into ex-boyfriends I get their life progress reports. You know like how rehab is or was and what they are doing to better their lives. Because I guess I was THAT girlfriend. I’m serious, there is more then one guy that I used to date that every time I see them I get the list of habits they have kicked and the ones they have not. I must have been the naggiest biatch alive for them to still feel they have to explain. Yikes.

I had a crazy dream last night. I dreamt I was being chased by bad guys, the exact bad guys from White House Down to be precise and there was intense fear and running and chasing but also an extreme sense of security. Because in this dream, Sofia Vergara was married to Bruce Willis but he was having an affair with me. And for some reason Sofia knew about it and it was cool but he was protecting us and seriously, there is no fear when Bruce Willis is on your side. None.

I just heard a news story on CBC about how prevalent cheating is amongst college and university students. Um ya?! When you have 5 classes, are working part time and have a million essays and exams due at the same time, you must find a way to accomplish all these things. When Hennie started back to college this year I told him that half of being a student was figuring out how to weasel yourself out of some work and cut corners. One of my Dad’s favourite stories about my University days is the time I used one essay for three different classes. I wrote a comparative essay on something hysterically dry like Plato and Locke. I used it for philosophy, history of political thinkers and something else. The worst part was that I intentionally acted while discussing it with my TA’s for the classes I recycled it in. Like, you know what would be really interesting, and then I did brain storm face, what about comparing Locke and Plato? How interesting would that be? Actually that story is my Dad’s second favourite University story of mine. The first is when I showed up to my economics mid-term and saw everyone taking out their calculators. I hadn’t even brought one. I didn’t think there was actual math involved, just theory. Calculators? Really? Damn. Adding to the fact that I already hated the cold, calculatedness of economics, I marched to the registrar’s office and dropped the class before my stellar 47% exam mark could show up on my transcript. Take THAT economics! That is my Dad’s favourite story. At the end of the news story the CBC news reporter wonder if that means our degrees are worth much less now if we are all cheating. How much less can my degree be worth I thought. Not much. But thanks you CBC for thinking it meant something in the first place. 

You know what drives me totally crazy? People at the gym that wear toques while working out! What the fuck? It is warm in here, you are sweating, my must you wear a bloody toque?! I am going to follow those dudes next time they go to the gym and wear mittens next to them. Mittens on the treadmill, mittens lifting weights, mittens stretching and see if they get how stupid they really look. Then I will add a scarf and do it all over again.

I have been taking a French class which has been really fun. But it’s quite the reaction when you tell people you are taking a French class. My overwhelming reaction has been that people start speaking perfect French to me and it’s like, fuck off. I’m in a one night a week class that is held in the basement of a church. I didn’t become bilingual overnight ok? Simmer. Now I’m pissed and am going to refuse to speak French to you. Take that. 

Hennie is so over winter, as is everyone. But yesterday he came in from outside and announced that winter had gone too far and was definitely laughing in our faces! Winter IS totally laughing in our faces. 

The sound that the vegetables sprayers make at FreshCo is the same shrill noise that happens right before people get murdered in horror movies. I felt like I was slaying each vegetable as I picked them. There should have been gratuitous blood everywhere each time I grabbed a pepper or head of cauliflower. 

Well I have done it. I burned through a whole season of House of Cards and also, somehow, 75% of our allowed internet usage. Weeee! I was so into it I decided to act like Robin Wright’s character. I tried to be insanely nonchalant about everything, while holding a calm, confident rich person stance at all times. Then I started seeing Doug Stamper at my gym. Omg! Kevin Spacey’s right hand man goes to the CP gym! I kept staring at him thinking of all the weird things he does on the show and then he started staring back at me playing right into his kind of weird and creepy character. And then he went on the rowing machine!! Which is crazy because Kevin and Robin are always on the rowing machine in their house when they are not taking over the world. Oh, Robin and Kevin? Yes, in fact, I am on a first name basis with them. We hang out all the time. No big deal. 

I have such a lady crush on Robin Wright. I recently saw her in an amazing movie about her and her best friend and how they start sleeping with each other’s sons. It sounds creepy and it is but it also well done, beautifully shot and will 100% make you want to move to the coast of Australia. When I came down to tell Hennie about the amazing movie I had just watched he started playing Justin Timberlake and Andy Samberg’s song “Motherlover” from SNL. “I’m a Motherlover, you’re a mother lover, we should fuck each other’s Mother’s.” It had perfect comedic timing. So proud of my husband in that moment. Quick wit wins my heart. 

 I walked into a store in CP today and from behind one of the cashes a lady that I worked with a million years ago yells out that I have lost too much weight and that my face is all sunken in and sickly. I felt like saying, so is your face but that’s from your pack-a-day habit and probably lots of tears but instead I was dignified. I grabbed my cheeks and showed her that my face was NOT sunken in like a crazy person and then ignored all the following words that came out of her mouth. This women is missing teeth for god’s sakes and she just told me I looked like shit. Fuckkkk youuuuuu.