I had the special opportunity to witness my Dad with his improv group this weekend. They had the most unfortunate luck that they had booked this Glebe gig at the same time as the Panda Games – a football game between Ottawa’s Universities attracting only the brightest students, just kidding – the drunkest and most fucked up, unable to walk in a straight-line group of degenerates you have ever seen. The same group of people that last year, one of them shit in the refrigerated area of the LCBO. I had prayed (pleaded) to every God I could think of that I wouldn’t be working that day. But instead, I walked through the crowds with my fragile, aged Father. He wanted soup for lunch (as adorable older men do) so I thought I would take him to this amazing soup place in the Glebe, perfectly on the way to his gig. When we got settled and got our soup we sat down and I noticed the music just blaring at us. I looked at Dad and said, well this is perfect soup eating music, Rihanna…singing about S&M…very loudly…good stuff. The guy sitting at another table looked up and started laughing. It was such an odd choice of music. Anyways, on the way to the venue, we tried crossing the street against the traffic in a sea of children who couldn’t handle their alcohol. I was starting to get a little nervous about my Dad being so exposed in a gaggle of these fucktards and then I saw one girl, with a red solo cup in her hand start to lose her footing and dive right into my Dad. I put my body in front of him and felt a thousand units of adrenaline pump into my body to the point where I was actually about to make sure this girl found the cement ground with full force. I became a very scary over-protective Mama bear to my Dad. If she had gone into his legs we would have been fucked. I was so shaken up that there was nothing that could chill me out. Except maybe some old people improv. The show was great, the audience was fairly into it and they lucked out with an older version of me in a wheel chair in the front row who freaked out anytime they mentioned the valley or Almonte (I do that at work on the reg). I recognized my Dad’s acting immediately as the amazing story teller he has always been. And he was always the funniest person in our house growing up, so this group was an amazing marriage of his two natural talents. I am glad I didn’t kill that girl crossing the street, because I totally would have missed a great show.

I know I’ve said this before but I feel like I spend a large chunk of my time planning my healthy eating and fitness goals…while sitting on a couch, eating chips and drinking wine. So I thought I should maybe stop planning it and maybe just go ahead and write my own guide to a healthy life and let people know how to do it properly… first you start your day with the best intentions in the world. You have a shake and black coffee with a splash of MCT oil in it. Then you take all your vitamins! Which for me probably takes 10x longer than the rest of the world because I have a hilarious amount. Because I’m healthy? No. Because it’s in the morning and I haven’t lost my willpower yet. Sometimes if I am starving I have 2 poached eggs instead of a shake. Still ok! I pack myself a good lunch, either a salad or veg and tempeh. Good intentions prevail! Somewhere in the middle of the day, I want a snack that I have not pre-planned and thank goodness, there are chocolates in the break room! Or I can just walk 5 feet and purchase my own bad decision. Dark chocolate? A health food! (not if you eat the whole $8 bar) or perhaps avocado oil chips, that’s practically a fucking salad. Dinner is usually a write off considering how tired I am. I don’t feel like cooking, it’s probably 7:30 by the time I get home and ideally I would like to shove a full pizza in my face. A pizza and a salad. A fruit salad. I mean wine. I’ll spend some time each day feeling guilty about not going to the gym, planning future gym classes I may or may not ever get to. And then somehow I manage to find chips in my house even though I very rarely buy them. At least I biked to and from work today guys! I am so fit! And they day’s I get to the gym, I like to rewards myself with a gluten free loaf slice from Bridgehead. You too can lead this healthy life and get all kind of killer tips and tricks from my new book – being super healthy starts tomorrow!

I went to yoga for the first time in a million years. I had been avoiding the class at Lansdowne because I was sure it would be fashionable, fit Glebies in nice outfits. It was. As I got into the room, I thought oh god, what if I get gassy which I am known to be at the best of times even without twisting my body. And yikes, I am wearing a free t-shirt that is advertising a protein company, how tacky. As soon as I lied down on the mat I felt my stomach start to create a gas bubble. For fucks sakes, I hadn’t even moved and already I needed to let it out. Gawd. After we got going I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror in juxtaposition to the woman in front of me. She was thin, great hair, expensive outfit and would flow through the moves. I was bulging out of my cheap yoga pants, the Vega top hugging every roll, my hair in a weird top bun that looked more shitty then classic messy. My moves were the best. I did not gracefully flow through anything. I clunked. Yes my middle name is grace but I do not embody that in any way. From move to move I threw my weight around – the opposite of delicate. There were amazing older ladies in there kicking my yoga ass! I know yoga is all about accepting my limitations, being present and letting go but that’s hard to do when you are surrounded by mirrors, continually pulling your shirt over your downward dog exposed belly and doing the opposite side stretch of the rest of the class because the teacher is doing it backwards for the class and they all know that but I am following her to a backwards t! But I was enduring all this to get to my favourite part – Shivasana. Or at Goodlife, it’s called relax time or something spiritualess. But of course my mind did not stay on course, I didn’t stick with the teacher as we were scanning the body and finally when I did come back it seemed forced and then done. But the point is – I got out of bed on my day off and did something I talk about and never do. That is the big win here people!

We went to see the Phantom of the Opera! We are so fancy. Leading up to our departure, the main focal point was giving our bladders a pep talk about not causing issue at the NAC. I had a very uncomfortable and dark walk past a thousand people during a concert once and have perpetually feared the NAC for it’s lack of accessibility to people with bladder issues since. Our seats ended up being 2 away from the end and we had a very friendly conversation with the couple next to us as to how they totally understood the perils of mid performance peeing and we were allowed to pass by whenever we needed. Bladder anxiety lessened! I had really been into the music from Phantom of the Opera as a kid but didn’t have a lot of context for what to expect. After the chandelier made some weird firework and the organ music started blaring I was practically in tears with excitement which quickly turned to giggling over the eighties cheesiness factor. I thought they may have updated the music a bit but it definitely remained the original vintage magic. During the intermission our whole aisle was reprimanded for taking too long at the bar and holding the show up. I congratulated us all for being the most committed boozers there! They were a fun lot. One lady made the same joke about sitting in the forbidden Phantom’s seat twice, a sure sign they probably should have been cut off. At the very end of the performance I realized we were sitting so far away that during the last scene I thought I noticed that the Phantom was black. It didn’t matter, it’s just possible we were so far back that I could not make out the colour of the performer’s skin. #amazingseats! The punchline was it was good ol’ cheesy musical fun. If I took anything away from it, it was that arguments should be sang at all times and musicals are inherently hilarious despite the content. We are anxiously awaiting Les Mis so we can laugh/cry/eye roll/sing along to that one next! To the theatre!

We’ve been re-watching the Sopranos. After binge watching it for a couple hours I’ve realized that most of the show is just James Gandolfini eating sandwiches…