Being Human: Part II

being not perfect is often perfect.

last year in August I wrote a little post about being human. I was reminded of it on Monday when I was sitting having "late night" soup with JP and we were talking about stuff. We danced a bit around the subject of perfectionism (which is something I have been working on not having for the last few years) and how it effects out lives. Some people embrace it and try their hardest to show the world how good they are and others (like myself) retract from it, scared to even try for fear that I won't even live up to my own expectations.

That hasn't been my life story for a while, I left that when I left school and learned how to get messy in life.. but every once in a while I see it and I am reminded that it is a part of my default belief system. Like when I am learning to play guitar, it's bad... awkward and just not pleasant to the ears as my chords hiss against the action and my fingers ache to press even harder. Without witnesses I am free to be ugly and unattractive and bad at what I am learning but as soon as I know there is an ear tuned in on me I freeze-up and stop.

When I was taking dance classes in the summer (and maybe that was the motivation behind that post along with some work I was doing with a woman) I remember letting go and being bad at what I was learning. I was pretty sure I was the worst person in the class.. all awkward arms and legs jutting out at all the wrong times (I don't follow direction very well, I'm better at moving to the beat of my own drum- in case you haven't noticed already) but I was also pretty sure I was the one person who was having the most fun in the class. I was bad and I was celebrating my badness as I moved across the room in a solo performance; too jazz for funk.

In my job, I have been given the task of numbers. I am not a numbers girl... sure, I can make them grown and do things for me. I know how to manipulate them but to account for them in a precise matter- not my slice of cake. I can sooth the irate people, I can comfort the soul of the surviving dependants, I can create a bond of trust and tell people what they need to do to get the best results... but I can not make all the numbers make sense. I'm bad at it but I have to do it and I am making more errors then I have ever made in a job. My instinct is to leave it and pretend that it doesn't exist but that is not the responsible thing to do. Or the smart thing to do, I'll have to do it eventually. So, I've been messy with my boss. And stupid and just totally unaware of anything. We have had to start with the basics- which she laughed at when I looked at her puzzled when she said "It's just like balancing your cheque book Blanche".  "I just look online to see how much money I have." I replied ignorantly...

What I've noticed though, in her assistance in trying to get me to understand this new part of my job, we have become closer. We have developed a relationship which was something we never had before. I guess what I am saying is once again, I am made aware that being imperfect in things, even pertaining to my job, is okay. Mistakes happen, they can always be fixed and getting upset (raking myself over the red hot coals while beating myself up with a board with a rusty nail sticking out of it) over it doesn't do any good. And people like people who are human... who aren't perfect and can be a little messy.

Anyway, that's the thought of the moment. I'm sure I've written something similar before but I don't care. It's time for me to get some breakfast and get started with my day. I have reconciliations to do...


by the way, that mussy messy bun pic can be found here

Dreams

easy like Sunday morning...

I have these dreams. Not ones that happen at night when I'm sleeping but during the day when I'm working, or walking or just sitting looking out the window. These day dreams have been the same since I was little...

Sunday morning, sunny kitchen, sitting with my partner in the sun spot pouring over the paper after having made and devoured a homemade Sunday brunch. No where to go, nothing to do except sit there in the sun and read the paper together. It's not a perfect kitchen but a simple kitchen with a window over the sink and curtains. Comfortably small and perfect as the heart of the home.

Front porch, later afternoons and early morning. Sitting and watching the day settle into it's self. I'm old and satisfied, again with my partner by my side. Getting up only to tend to the garden a little, or perhaps go inside for things to eat but always ending up back outside, enjoying life at it's plainest.

Traveling to interesting places. Not on a cruise, not to an all inclusive resort but to little interesting places where you get swallowed up by the culture. Not being scared to drink the water or eat the food, just being free to enjoy. Not worrying about worry.

My dreams are fragmented and just little glimpses of what I want. It's unfair to expect that any of these will come true to being what I see in my mind but it's something I am working towards. The longest dream I've ever had was one of companionship. As a little girl I never imagined my wedding or who I would marry or any of that stuff that most little girls play around with inside their mind. I wanted to be a witch or maybe a gypsy and move to the ocean and just exist. I figured I'd have a companion and there would be love. I dream about the adventures we'd have and eventually it all ending as two pruney senior walking hand in hand in the rain with our rain gear on. 98 and still living together in our house which is of course is situated by the ocean and a rainforest. Still able to do things for ourselves and still happy, healthy and living.

Is it normal to want this? Or should I have my sight set on owning a Mercedes mall assault vehicle, a big gnarly vacation house in Beverly Hills and being married in a $60,000 dress at my $500,000 wedding celebration.

Does this make me unmotivated? Does this make me a low achiever?

Troll Food

Pocky is now called Troll Food. I was stuck in the parking lot at Chinook on Saturday.. yes, all the way down in the elusive section of new P2 and I was in a traffic jam. JP (thankfully) had a package of baby cookies in the car and a box of Pocky. I ate the cookies and drew on the box of Pocky. It was awesome.

You know what else was awesome, people were honking like they do on TV when everyone is stuck in traffic. Calgary isn't a honking city really... and when there is a traffic jam or some other kind of traffic cluster, no one really honks. I'm happy to say that because the random honking that occurs when no one is moving doesn't make any sense... but, when you are stuck in a hot ungrounded parking unit at a really busy mall on a Saturday afternoon and all you can see are tail lights coming from every which direction, honking becomes entertainment.

Someone had to start it and I hope it was out of joy and not out of anger because as soon as someone started honking EVERYONE else waiting joined in, for fun. It became an awesome game of honking together. I was so delighted by this. So much that it was a Facebook status changer.

When things finally started moving everyone was distracted enough to give up on the honking game and just try to get the hell out of there. There are unspoken rules of the road when it comes to traffic cluster-ups. If you are in the big daddy line that is on the way out and everyone else is trying to get in, you let a car in. Just one. If everyone in the big daddy lane lets one car in, we can all be happy, well... there was this one car that didn't get that. It was red and the people were trolls. How did we know that they were trolls, well... they had their whole house packed into the back of their steamy car. I think they might have been living in their car and were basically the trolls of the parking lot. So, I drew on the box of Pocky that I was decorating that it was Troll Food and showed it to them, but they weren't looking because they knew they were being rude by not allowing us to come into the big daddy lane. Then, they cheated and totally skipped the line.. those Trolls were on a mission to get the hell out of that parking lot. Jerks.

So anyway, the next day I went for Sushi and got my own box of Troll Food which I forgot about in my purse. I've been eating it all day and kind of feel like a troll. It's awesome. Awesome Sauce.

I also have a headache. Totally unrelated.

Hanna: The Movie

I got an email today from "the man", apparently I have advance screening passes to Hanna which is pretty exciting to me. I saw the preview a few weeks ago when I went to the screening of Unlimited (word of warning, don't waster your dollar dollar bills on that one- unless it's on the book) and thought to myself "That looks like the story of Heidi, on crack".

It has a Kill Bill meets X-Files feel to it without the yellow jump suit, Scully, and the Tarantino influence (that could be a good or a bad thing).

"The title character (Saoirse Ronan) is a teenage girl with the strength, stamina, and smarts of a soldier; these come from being raised by her father (Eric Bana), an ex-CIA agent, in the wilds of Finland. Her upbringing and training have been one and the same, all geared to making her the perfect assassin. The turning point in her adolescence is a sharp one; sent into the world by her father on a mission, Hanna journeys stealthily across Europe while eluding several agents dispatched after her by a ruthless intelligence operative (Cate Blanchett). As she nears her ultimate target, Hanna faces even more startling revelations about her existence and unexpected questions about her humanity."

Yes, Eric Bana- that threw me off too... isn't he exclusively into Chick Flicks? Well, I guess this kind of could be one as well, just not in the same way as The Time Travelers Wife would be. Hey, at least he's kind of pretty...

The director waffles a bit about how to describe the film because it's not exclusively one genre. It's a little action, it's a little thriller, it's a little dark and a little fairy tail. It also has the moody, dark tones of the Chemical Brothers setting the tone with their soundtrack made specifically for the film.

HANNA: Movie Trailer. Watch more top selected videos about: Joe Wright, Hanna (film)

Moral of the story, can't beat a free movie so I'm going regardless and hopefully, if it's a good action movie... I'll want to wrestle after.

The Strongest Tree

If I really were a tree I would be a stunted one that grows in the bog in Tofino

Pine.
That is what I am.. I am Pine. Pining away.
This is so out of character for me I am border line annoying myself.
I am such a sap.

...at least I'm on the home stretch.

What the Hell Pancake Day

just call me captain space cadet pancake head

Did I seriously get Pancake Day screwed up??? I did. I really did... it kind of dawned on me yesterday when I was thinking about Mardi Gras but then... yes, it doesn't matter...

Happy Pancake Day everyone! Again...

Here is the post I should have written today but instead I was too drunk of sugar and other things...

Valentines Day vs. Pancake Day

So, go make some pancakes for dinner.

(Geez... I am so mad at myself! What the heck?!!)

Super Trampy? Super Lucky!

From now on...

I totally screamed when I went through my emails after lunch. Click, click, click- delete... read, sort Live Nation: Presale Code for Supertramp in Calgary and Edmonton...

wait a second...

Live Nation?

Supertramp?

Calgary? Presale Code?

OH MY GOD!

Supertramp... one of the last bands I have left on my bucket list of "greats" that I am able to see (no dead, not crazy and totally still playing music). The last time they were in town no one would go with me- this year, things are different. I have someone wonderful in my life who LOVES to do the same kind of things I love to do. It's magical, but that isn't what this post is about- this post is about SUPERTRAMP! In Calgary.

I've been called an old soul for much of my young life, though talking to me you wouldn't think so. I'm silly, playful and naive at times. But, I guess a lot of my thoughts and ways of seeing things were beyond my years and along with that also came a taste for music from before I was born. Good, gritty, classic rock- I love it. I should have been born in the 60's but I wasn't, I was born in the 80's.

I'm not really sure when I started to fall for Supertramp. I am pretty sure it was just after my ABBA phase, I had bought Crime of the Century and moved into Even in the Quietest Moments  and then into Breakfast in America. I was in love.

The song that I can play the best on the guitar is the simple little tune Surly from Supertramps self titled debut album. It's the first track and I've always loved it's simplicity.

Downstream comes from the album Even in the Quietest Moments which is by far, one of the most recognized Supertramp albums ever (in my opinion)- it's a small album with some heavy tracks. The song is just beautiful with it's moody piano and poetic words. It is one of my favorite all time songs ever.

Another favorite is of course Even in the Quiestet Moments- this song proves that any song that starts off with birds is a good song.

and of course, there are so many high energy songs that.. well, I just can't wait. I have my calander set and my presale code ready and I am determinded to see them live! Even though Rodger Hodgson has since moved on (well, a long time ago to be honest but whatever). I don't care. So many songs... so many.

Downstream by Supertramp

Tickets go on sale for Calgary March 11th, there is a presale as well on Thursday- if you want the code let me know.

Show Info

Beignets

Oh I wish I were a chunck of deep fried dough! That is what I'd always want to be!

Yes, I would go to New Orleans for the Crawfish and Beignets alone. Oh and maybe at the end of April to see Edward Sharpe playing with Mumford and Sons (can you imagine- good concert!). So instead of going to New Orleans for Mardi Gras by my lonesome (that would be some trouble if you asked me!) I have decided to make Beignets myself...

check it:

1 c. whole milk
1/4 c. + 1 Tbsp. sugar, divided
1/4 c. vegetable oil
1 tsp. table salt
3 1/2-4 c. all-purpose flour
1 scant tablespoon dry active yeast
1/2 c. warm (about 105 degrees) water
1 egg
Peanut oil for frying

Method:
In a small saucepan, combine the milk, 1/4 c. sugar, vegetable oil, and salt.  Heat over medium heat until small bubbles form around the edges of the pan.  Remove from heat.

While the milk is heating, combine the yeast and 1 Tbsp. of sugar with 1/2 c. water.  Allow to stand for 10 minutes or until it’s very bubbly.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, combine the heated milk and 2 c. flour.  Mix, scraping the bowl occasionally, until smooth (about 2-3 minutes).  Add the egg and mix until well-combined.  Add the yeast mixture.  Add enough flour to make a soft dough that slightly sticks to your finger.

At this point, you can either place the dough in a bowl sprayed with non-stick cooking spray and cover with a piece of sprayed plastic wrap and refrigerate the dough up to 1 day or you can roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface.  Either way, when you roll it out, roll it into a large rectangle about 1/4″ thick.  Using a pizza wheel, cut the dough into about 3″x4″ rectangles (accuracy doesn't matter, we are talking about fried pieces of dough with powdered sugar here).  Slightly separate the dough pieces and cover with a clean cloth.  Allow to rise for 30 minutes.

When the dough has about 15 minutes left to go, heat 2-3 inches of peanut oil in a large skillet or saucepan to 325 degrees (just use a candy thermometer).  When the oil is heated, fry the dough pieces for about 90 seconds-2 minutes per side or until they are golden.  Carefully remove from the oil and allow to drain on a paper towel-lined baking sheet. 

Place some powdered sugar in a fine-mesh strainer and sprinkle the powdered sugar generously over the beignets.  Serve immediately (though, like pancakes, they are totally okay to eat when cold)

Makes about 24-30 beignets.

Princess and the Frog: Diner Scene

Candy Finnigan and Dagblog

It was either this or Chuck Norris. I'm so over Chuck- actually I don't think I ever started.

Natalie Dee on the other hand... fantastic!

It's 3:30pm, my boss went home about a half hour ago and I just finished a project I was working on. It's prime Internet time! I first Googled the name Candy Finnigan who is an Interventionist on A&E's reality TV show Intervention. I wanted to check the spelling of her name ( was writing something to my friend Laura) and I was also curious about her histry. A hit showed up for Wikipedia so I followed it. It sent me to Mike Finnigan's page where I learnt that Candy is married to a very well respect musician who has toured with the likes of Etta James, Lenoard Cohen, Jimi Hendrix, Taj Mahal, etc... and somehow I ended up from there on this other blog called dagblog, actually...now that I think hard about it I think they had written a story about Candy on there which I found interesting.

So anyway, I just wanted to mention that I really like this blog called dagblog, I find that it resonates well with my own thoughts and opinions (which more often than not I keep to myself. I find my school of thought to be somewhat unpopular and there is always a time and place for challenging conversation- just often "right now" isn't the right time) as well as my sense of humor.

I was in a sharing mood and thought I would pass the link along to you. If you follow my own blog of hodgepodge and nonsense this may or may not interest you. But if it does, this is my Happy Friday gift to you. If not, then you can enjoy my previous post on how Honey is Bee vomit and if that doesn't do anything for you then well, let me know what you want to talk about and I will talk about it.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone! Hell Week is almost done (it actually got a lot better Wednesday and things have been looking up ever since!) so I might be more regular is my posts next week.

PS: I have no idea what image to put with this post so I might just Google "random image" and see what I come up with.  

Honey is Bee Vomit

I'm cute, pet my furry head.

True Story. If you think honey is made from flower nectar you are only partially correct. An important part of the process is what happens inside the bee. Bees use their digestive systems to process the nectar by swallowing and regurgitating it several times before finally depositing it into the honeycomb for evaporation and storage.

While this sounds gross, it helps remove some of the water and natural yeasts present in the nectar, which could otherwise cause the sugars to ferment. Ripe honey is shelf stable and never spoils. Honey comes in various tastes and colours, depending on the type of flower nectar the bees collected. For example, clover honey is mild tasting and light in colour whereas buckwheat honey is bolder tasting and darker. Honey may also darken or become a bit stronger tasting with age, but will keep indefinitely in a sealed container at room temperature. If older honey crystallizes, simply warm it up until it turns clear.

And that is all that you needed to know about Honey.




 Honey-Honey by Feist

Honey honey up in the trees
Fields of flowers deep in his dreams
Lead them out to sea by the east
Honey honey food for the bees

Honey honey out on the sea
In the doldrums thinking of me
Me on dry land thinking of he
Honey honey not next to me

Even if he wanted to
Even if he wanted to
Even if he wanted to
Do you think he'd come back
Would he come back

Oh no..

Honey honey out on the sea
In the doldrums waiting for me
Me in my boat searching for he
Honey honey food for the bees

It Will Be Okay, Just Laugh

Someone sent this to me at work today:
(if you can't see the video just follow the link)

Baby Laugh A-Lot commercial from Fail Blog



Scary. Actually, the doll isn't as horrible as the little girls whipping their heads around. *shudders

Welcome To Hell Week

Hell Day is when you show up to work in nothing but a ratty old slip when it's -30°C outside

Hell Week/ Day/ Month: A period in time when everything just goes through the shitter. Seriously. Gong Show meets Jersey Shore meets WCF meets The Office. Usually happens at work, at least it does for me. My life outside of work is magical and seems to be immune to Hell Week/Day/Month.

This week (today is Wednesday) I have so far cried twice at work; once on Monday and once on Tuesday (I blame that on sleep deprivation and a sinus cold). Today I have seen 4 out of the 6 people in my department break down in tears, 3 of which I was talking to at the time and consoled them with a bony hug and hair pat. Computer break downs, corrupt files, lost information, unbalanced reconciliations, Excel meltdown, lost connections, mystery spiders walking across my desk, broken thermostats, spontaneous popping balloons- it all happens now. During Hell Week.

The pants I'm wearing today are too big and my hair is staticy against my face. My eyes are heavy and tired and I want to pick at the calluses on my guitar playing hands

But even with all these frazzled nerves and mood swings, I still manage to make up songs as I work. I sing the numbers that I am balancing, the different divisions and the places where the Expats are working. I sing about how the employees should be on the health plan and how they are missing out on free money by not partaking in the RRSP plan and how some of the field employees have really really annoying wives. I sing about Hong's clicky fake nails on her keyboard and Lonnie's smoke breaks. I sing about how the one printer is a little bitch and only seems to work for me. I sing about my phone ringings and not answering it. I sing about the food I am eating and what I'm drinking. I also make up songs about how the VP of HR has girl sneezes and he's a boy.

How annoying of me! I mean seriously, I find the yogurt cup eater and the plastic bag wrestler annoying, someone is bound to find my simple little off tune songs annoying. Not to mention my constant self talk banter (Today I caught myself in the storage room saying "What am I doing here? Why do I feel drunk? Oooo Post-it Notes!"). Especially during Hell Week. I better watch my back!

Anyway, I really don't have time to write this, I just got an email that some stuff came in for me at reception so more work awaits for me. I love my job, I really do. But this week I don't like it. Maybe, I'm starting to out grow it or maybe I just need to hanker down and get the last 3 months of mess cleared off my desk. My mind has been a whirl of dreams so we will see where I am in 4 -6 months.

*deep breath* that was a good vent.

Winter

Winter is made for lovers.

(Yes, that is all I have to say today.)

24 Hour Chicken Channel

Feeling hot and saucy.

According to the CBC, starting Monday, Swiss Chalet will fire up a constant televised loop of 12 roasters turning on a spit to promote the chain. Talk about mesmerizing. Twelve saucy, golden, barbecued chickens going round and round and round and round.  

*grumble goes the tummy monster.

*"why?" goes the goes the rational monster.

Happy Friday everyone...

(yes, this is my post for today. I not feeling 100% -totally fighting a cold- so brain is dead and I'm just totally fatigued. So end result, post about a chicken channel.)

[Hat Tip to the CBC for the original article]

Confession: I Eat Floor Food

First Question: Did it bounce when it hit the floor?

This morning, as I was walking back from Second Cup with my steamed milk and carb-o-licious treats, I dropped my perfectly toasted Cinnamon raisin bagel. It landed on the ground and slid out of it's sleeve stopping, fully exposed on the ground. I looked at my friend, Edith and looked back at the bagel then looked back at her and bent down and picked up the bagel, "5 minute rule" and took a bite out of it.

I know that it's not really a 5 minute rule. I also know that Mythbusters busted the 5 second rule but really... it's not that bad. I've done worse- waaaaaaay worse.

My most famous story takes place in a small Mom and Pop grocery near where my parents live. I was there one hot summer afternoon looking to buy some Battenberg Cake. As it turned out, I got distracted by the ice cream. I'm not a huge fan of ice cream- sometimes I crave it but I get kind of board of eating it. I like a few bites here and there but really- I just like the cone with the ice cream shoved into it. I also like fruity Popsicles, ice cream sandwiches and old school Fudgesicles. I'm not sure what I picked up, I picked up something from the freezer. I wasn't going to buy it, I just wanted to read what was in it but lo and behold, the package was open and it slid out as smoothly and landed square on the floor. I panicked for a moment, looking around to see if anyone saw. I started to weigh my options instantly:

Person behind the counter didn't see what just happened so I could just leave it and no one would be the wiser. But then, what if they did see... plus, I want Ice Cream. I don't want to stand here and try to figure out what kind of ice cream I want with that offending floor ice cream just a few feet away from me. So, I could pick it up and give it to the person behind the counter. Tell them what happened. Or I could put it back in the package and put it back in the freezer- but then... what if someone else buys it. I personally wouldn't want to be that someone who ate something that had been on the floor and not know it.Maybe that's what already happened, maybe that is why the package was open and the ice cream fell out. Oooh poor ice cream, all it wants is to be eaten and no one is going to eat it. Maybe I should buy it. I did drop it, it's kind of like "you break you buy" even though I didn't break anything. Or I could just buck up and be honest with the clerk.

So I go up to the front, look that clerk in the eye and buy that floor ice cream right there and then.

And then I ate it.

I just couldn't see that little ice cream go to waste. Poor little ice cream, it's purpose in life is to be eaten and I wasn't going to be the one to take that away from it.

So yes, it's not uncommon for me to eat things I've dropped on the ground. Of course, if it's wet and lands wet side down- I won't eat it. Like jam on toast or part of a banana, yes.. that would be gross. Unless I'm in my own home then I might eat it. I know how clean my floors are and I don't have animals. The only hairy thing in my place is me and my hairs are long and create tumble weeds that roll across the floor no matter how much I vacuum. They don't usually get caught up in floor food. I guess you could say I have a bounce test- if it bounces when it hit the floor it's safe to eat.

How about you? If something lands on the ground will you still eat it? Does it depend on if it's a wet food or a dry food? Come on, confess!

Eggs

Because how hard is it to poach a god damn egg properly? Seriously, that's like eggs 101 Woodhouse.

I can't remember when I learnt about eggs. I think I might have been with John and he had picked up a book all about eggs or perhaps it was someone whom a conversation had been had. A chef who had said "the true test of a chefs talent is shown in how they poach eggs". Doesn't matter, all I know is I learnt about eggs. I learnt how to hard cook a proper egg and all the variables from how to ensure the shell comes of as cleanly as a glove to preventing the oxidization of the yolk (you know what I mean, when the yellow part gets that unpleasant black discoloration). I learnt how to make the perfect omelet and of course, I know the tell tale marks of a perfect poached egg so it keeps it's shape, isn't rubbery and has a nice yolk perfect for dipping toast.

How to Poach an Egg:

To poach one or more eggs, bring an inch or two of water to a gentle boil in a skillet big enough to accommodate the number of eggs you’re cooking. (It’s best to do no more than 3 at a time – too many eggs will crowd the pan and cool down the water.) Ensure that there is enough water to fully cover the egg. Add a a teaspoon of vinegar, which isn’t necessary  but will lower the PH of the water helping the egg to hold its shape by causing the outer layer of the egg white to congeal faster. Without it, the eggs will become skeins of protein tangling up in the water. Reduce the heat to a simmer – the point at which the water barely bubbles – a rough, rolling boil will make your eggs go all over the place when you crack them in. If the water is too cool, the egg will separate apart before it cooks; if your water is too hot, you will end up with tough whites and an over-cooked yolk. You will want to bring the water to a temperature of about 160 to 180ºF (71-82ºC). 

Gently break your eggs into the water and as they start to set, spoon the water over the tops of the yolks to help them cook. Do not drop the egg into boiling water (212ºF or 100ºC). This will negatively affect the taste and texture of your eggs. If they stick to the bottom of the pan, loosen them with a thin spatula. Poach your eggs for 3-4 minutes, until the whites are firm and the yolks have filmed over. Remove them from the water with a slotted spoon and transfer them to buttered toast or onto a paper towel to drain.

TIP:

If you’re having company and need to cook poached eggs for a crowd: you can poach eggs in advance, and keep them in a bowl of cold water in the fridge for up to 2 days. Reheat them by dipping them into a saucepan of simmering water for about 30 seconds.

A poached egg makes a quick meal of sautéed greens or leftover grains (rice, barley, quinoa) or try a poached egg on top of a burger or pizza. They aren't just for toast anymore!


Image of Archer borrowed with love from Google Images. Archer, as you might already know, looks an awful lot like an aged Xander Crews.

These Feet

Walking the beach: natures pedicure.

These size 5 ladies shoe feet of mine. They have been jammed into point shoes, dragged across balance beams and spun on for floor routines. I've walk miles in heals and even further in slippers. I've stood on them for days and sat on them for hours. They are oddly shaped and my pointer toe is longer than any other toe on my foot. My pinky is so small that I swear that it doesn't even grow a real nail and I've had a grand total of 4 pedicures in my life. Maybe 5. I've had people come up to me off the street or even at the opera and comment on the size of my feet. How small they are; how dainty. I've dated people who have loved my feet, hated my feet and never really looked at them. I've spent many a' summer never wearing shoes, developing nice, firm calluses on the bottom only to find I can't get my feet perfectly clean in September. My mum has a tendency to always step on them. With shoes so I have a thing about my toes getting crushed. I have to wear slippers when I am inside. Or at least socks. The closest I come to ever looking after my feet is trimming the nails and putting cream on them every night.

The worst thing I have ever gotten on my feet was tree sap. A few summers ago I was climbing a pine tree with a friend of mine late one July night. I ended up with sap all over my feet and it took weeks to get it off. I have since discovered that oil and salt mixed together does the trick (this summer I was playing in the trees again, collecting pine cones and ended up with sap all over me AGAIN. I should have worn gloves but since when do I think ahead? My hands were a mass of sap, pine needles and bits of pine cones and dirt. Then a bird pooped on my head and I couldn't do a thing about it because of the condition of my hands). At least the sap had a nice earthy smell.

Or maybe it's all the times that I take my shoes off for dancing. My feet have stepped in a lot.

The best thing I have ever felt on my feet was the soft sand in the warm tidal pools of a low tide beach. Digging my toes into the sand.

I have memories of a time when I would spend New Years at the Barrett household. They have a tradition of running through the back door and in the front right at the strike of midnight (out with the old and in with the new). Here in Calgary, Alberta, Canada  it is common for New Years eve to be well below freezing with icy, crusty snow covering the ground. I have picture of ice red feet, sore from embarking on a drunken British tradition.

I treat my feet as if they were tanks. Sure, I give them soft cozy wool socks to rest in but really, they take a lot of abuse. But they never retaliate (unless, I've made them angry by standing on marble floors in 6' stilettos). They are always there, keeping me going, Keeping me standing and keeping me grounded. As I look at them I see that I need to give them a little attention. They have the remnants of an old pedicure chipping off the nails. They could also use a little exfoliation and maybe a little yoga.

Love your feet.

I know a girl who wanted to be a registered massage therapist but refused to go through the schooling because she didn't want to touch feet. Actually, I know a guy who is the former offencive linemen for the Calgary Stampeders who hates feet so much that he obsesses over them while on holidays. Often getting so upset that he has to leave the pool area. He makes his wife get a pedicure once a week.

Do you love your feet or do you think they are disgusting. What about other peoples feet?

Corn Dust Woman

Taste the milky rainbow- if you dare.

I never ate sugar cereal growing up. Never. Sugar cereal to me was Shredded Wheat and Bran with a banana sliced into it. Or, on really lucky days (like when we were on holidays) I might be allowed Rice Crispies. I didn't mind, sure.. I guess I would sometimes whine about wanting to count my Lucky Charms or battle the soggies with Captain Crunch but really, that never happened so I went all through my life until recently never really having sugar cereal. Even now, I can stand the sweet off color of the left over milk at the end of a bowl. *shudders

As I've gotten older and more aware of healthy eating and nutritional information I often joke that many “kids’ cereals” (an euphemism for neon-colored sugar puffs) are the nutritional equivalent of candy and a multivitamin. A really bad multivitamin (don't get me started on how I feel about multivitamins) like those chewable ones for kids.

Here are the facts...

Let’s begin with Trix, which somehow managed to dethrone carrots and lettuce as the official food of the bunny community

A 1-cup, 30 gram (just slightly over 1 ounce) serving provides:

• 120 calories
• 1.5 grams fat
• 180 milligrams sodium
• 10 grams sugar (2.5 teaspoons)
• 1 gram fiber
• 1 gram protein

Here is what an ounce of Twizzlers (mmmmm...) provides:

• 95 calories
• 0.6 grams fat
• 74 milligrams sodium
• 0 grams fiber
• 13.25 grams sugar (3.25 teaspoons)
• 0.6 grams protein

Pretty close to Trix!  Just a tiny bit more sugar and a smidgen less of protein.  The missing gram of fiber is barely noticed and, hey, look at that — half the sodium and a third of the calories!

Let’s now look at the fortified nutrients in Trix.  The following vitamins and minerals are supplemented (listed with their respective contributions, expressed as a percentage, to the Daily Value):

Vitamin A (10%), Vitamin C (10%), Calcium (10%), Iron (25%), Vitamin D (10%), Thiamin (25%), Riboflavin (25%), Niacin (25%), Vitamin B6 (25%), Folic Acid (25%), Vitamin B12 (25%), Zinc (25%)

Let’s now analyze Fred Flintstone’s contribution to the candy breakfast.  That chewable vitamin provides the following vitamins and minerals (again, listed with their respective percentage of the Daily Value)

Vitamin A (60%), Vitamin C (100%), Vitamin D (100%), Vitamin E (100%), Thiamin (100%), Riboflavin (100%), Niacin (75%), Vitamin B6 (100%), Folic Acid (100%), Vitamin B12 (100%), Biotin (13%), Pantothenic Acid (100%), Calcium (10%), Iron (100%), Phosphorus (10%), Iodine (100%), Magnesium (5%), Zinc (80%), Copper (100%)

Oh, snap!  Fred Flintstone’s  vitamins deliver higher amounts of nutrients — and a wider variety — than what Trix offers.

And, now, for our final comparison — ingredient lists.  First up, Trix:

Whole grain corn, sugar, corn meal, corn syrup, carnola/rice bran oil, salt, trisodium phosphate, Red 40, Yellow 6, Blue 1, Other Color Added, Natural and Artificial Flavors, Citric Acid, Malic Acid

Fred Flintstone’s multivitamin is, of course, composed of vitamins and minerals.  However, it shares a few common ingredients with Trix, mainly the presence of three artificial dyes — Yellow 5, Red 40, and Blue 2.

Multivitamins are not the same as food because foods contain healthful compounds like phytonutrients and antioxidants. That's why a multivitamin can not even dream of matching the nutritional contributions of fruits, vegetables, whole grains, legumes, nuts, and seeds to a diet.  But, we’re talking about sugar cereal here.  Yes, there is some whole grain corn, but a) it’s undergone a bit of processing, and b) you’re talking about roughly a half-ounce of it.

The takeaway message here is not “Twizzlers and a multivitamin are a nutritious breakfast”, but rather “Trix is basically fortified candy with a sprinkling of corn dust.”

This is why

Trix = Twizzlers (or Fruit Twisty Ropes if you wish to use the generic name) + Flinstone Vitamin + magical Corn Dust.

Now isn't that just all kinds of gross? I write this ALL after having a slice of birthday cake for breakfast. Mmm mmm good.

Thursday: Gross Flyer Day

Every week has a new, meaty, cover girl.

Today is Gross Flyer Day; a big day in the Lunchroom at work. No one else really calls it Gross Flyer Day, they just call it Flyer Day. The Calgary Herald comes to our front reception desk busting at the seams with all the best flyers of the week. We pour over them at lunch, reading aloud the different descriptions and deals available. I however take the grocery store flyers and rave like a lunatic about all the raw meat on the cover of each one (there are three main ones, all which are offenders).

The worst is the ground whatever (beef, turkey, pork), it just always looks like a pile of worms and if (God forbid) the colors are off in from the printing process that sparks a whole new rant about how nasty yellowish or greenish meat looks. There is always raw meat on the cover (thank goodness, I already checked out the cover of Co-op's flyer today. They have a nice, esthetically clean picture of raw ribs being sliced by some fancy looking knives.) and there is always a center fold spread of more raw meat from chicken thighs to rump roast. All raw, all bloody and all seeming disgusting to me. Plus, as part of the fun. Reading out all the descriptions of the meat in a hill-billy accent does cause for some laugh till you cry fun. At least it does for me.

The boys in the lunchroom are so patient with me. They truly are.

Not all pictures of the meat look disgusting, some are actually rather attractive (for raw meat) with bright cool red tones and stark contrasting white in the marbling of a Tenderloin Steak or the playfully rosy pink hue of raw chicken breast. There is something to be said about a well thought out spread of raw meat.

So, on that awlward note, as a suggestion to the graphic artists creating these flyers, maybe try a little harder to get the colors right, at least. I mean, the girls in the beauty magazines get photoshopped and they look appealing before hand so why not use a little of that Photoshop magic on the raw stuff.

I'm just saying...

and that ladies and gentlemen is my rant about Gross Flyer Day.

Balloons

I hope that Cadbury balloon is cream filled.

There is a faint smell of latex in my office this morning. Not mine in particular but it's wafting down the hall way from one of my co-workers office. His name is Tim and he turned 50. We flooded his office with around 250 balloons and his reaction is exactly what it should be- surprised and annoyed (SCORE!).

So that was good.

but now...

Now I have to put up with the sound of popping balloons. All day. Never know when it's going to happen but it's gonna happen and keep happening all through the day.

Can't work, balloons will get me.

Valentines Day vs. Pancake Day

You may love Pancakes now Timmy but just you wait till you hit puberty

I can't decided which is better?

A celebration of love, candy and sex OR a celebration of sugar, fat and eggs.

Both are pretty awesome if you ask me.

Happy Takeover Day today and Happy Pancake Day tomorrow!

Hungry World, It's a Funeral

Paper Lamps, Canopy tents, Barefeet, and Wildflowers

Funeral's are funny things. Strange things. Never really a pleasant thing regardless of how hard the family tries to make it a celebration of life. Everyone tries so hard to be strong but really, what does that really get you? A headache and a need to have a shot of something strong and hard.

I don't really consider myself a morbid person by any sense of the word. I don't have a strange fascination with death or sickness. My taste is far from Gothic and tainted. I can honestly say that I've thought more about what my funeral should be like then my actual wedding. A funeral is something that basically everyone will have, a wedding however, not so much. Though, I can't really dance at my own funeral. That might be frowned upon.

This summer, at Folk Fest,  one of the bands that Laura and I were stalking for the weekend played a fantastic song called Funeral. The song is originally done by JT and The Clouds but Po' Girl was the band that had collaborated with JT to create this gem of a jam. As mentioned in a previous post, as soon as I heard the song I turned to her and told her that I wanted this song played at my funeral to which she agreed. I wasn't done though, I told her that she also had to dance and without hesitation my dance less best friend agreed that she would also dance. At my Funeral. To this song. She has to hold up her end of the bargain, I have it here in writing. Twice actually.

Po' Girl with JT and the Clouds LIVE playing Funeral

Hey pretty baby let’s shake it like

Somebody died

Hey mama it’s a funeral

Whole green world is a funeral

The whiskey and ginger is fine

Ice cream man never lied to you

Every beautiful thing is true

I see the black cars in a line

Like a dream of black swans drifting by

Under dim stars there’s no time no time

Then I see the sweat on the back of your neck

- silver -

ooh you’re so slender child

who’s my solid sender baby doll?

Hey pretty baby let’s shake it like

Somebody died….

Raindrops on the car tops

Count them remember them

‘til the sun comes back and takes them away

forget them forget them forget them forget them

and the stars too they were for you

and you loved them and they loved you

‘til the dawn came ‘cause it had to

now you’re standing there struck dumb

in the bright blue

Hey pretty baby let’s shake it like

Somebody died…

No one can wear black, I won't allow it. We wear enough black; I wear enough black. Hats and sunglasses are totally acceptable. So are gloves if you wish. The food has to be good and the bar has to be open. I want it to feel as much like summer as possible. Actually, as I think about it. I want my wedding to be the same way but I want to be alive for that one. I'm not sure if you have ever seen the movie Rachel Getting Married but that is the type of celebration I like. Music, food, dancing, movement, passion, authentic and connection.

So on that strange note, I wish you a happy Friday and a wonderful weekend.

~w/ respects to D. Entz 1991-2011

Words

My words ran away from me
Now I'm lost and they're out at sea
Sailing away


They come and go, like the breeze
Whisper sweet, burn like disease
They change with the day

*

Words have always been a struggle for me. Taking the swirl of thoughts, feelings, images and reactions out of my mind and blowing them into a bubble easily identified by another person, it's hard. At least, I find it hard. Maybe talking to me you may not know that there are times when so much tries to come out at once that I pull back and freeze, muttering the phrase "I don't know" under my breath. I do know, I always know but often I just don't want you to know that I know. My "I don't knows" are the armor to my vulnerabilities.

This is an on going pattern in my life, I remember a woman who had touched my life dearly when I was younger, Joanne, she told me not to worry about getting the words out perfect. That it doesn't matter how they come out but that they just come out. It's the listeners job to try and make sure they understand. That I often make more sense then I think I do. She also told me to listen to my hands, when I am talking my hands take on a life of their own, saying the things I can't seem to say. I'm never really aware of it.

Over time, I have become messier with my words, allowing mispronunciations, improper usage and uncensored remakes to come pouring out of my mouth. It's not in anyway thoughtless but it's just uninhibited, which I like. I dream of being an articulate speaker and maybe one day I'll be there. Sometimes, when my emotions are in the right position and I can tap into some underlying muse, I can say something good. I can say something real. I can say something vulnerable.

*

My words came back to me
They stayed awhile, we had some tea
While time whiled away


I said, "please be kind and please don't go"
They said, "we'll try, but you never know"
Depends on the day


-'Words' by Sonya Kitchell

Sore Little Fingers

ouch. it feels like burning.  

Tonight, I learnt how to play one of the most beautifully written songs on the guitar. It's butchered and raw; much like how my little fingers feel. But I have the melody down. This is the second song out of 5 that I was able to pluck my way though crudely tonight. It's all starting to take shape.

Slowly and with a little persistence I am starting to grasp the concept.

It's hard to type right now.

***

I was lost in the lakes

And the shape that your body makes
That your body makes


And the mountains said I could find you here
They whisper the snow and the leaves in my ear
I traced my finger along your trails
Your body was the map
I was lost in there


Floating over your rocky spine
The glaciers made you and now you're mine


I was moving across your frozen veneer
The sky was dark
But you were clear
Could you feel my footsteps?
And would you shatter, would you shatter?
Would you?


Your soft fingers between my claws
Like purity against resolve
I could tell then there that we were formed from the clay
And came from the rocks for earth to display


They told me to be careful up there
Where the wind rages through your hair



Great Lake Swimmers - Your Rocky Spine
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Wanted: Reckless

I'm ready to go down this street, are you?

I'm searching for Reckless. I have that usual burning in my tummy that I need to flip everything upside down and mash it all around. I need to jump off a cliff into some unknown waters and see if I really can get myself out of it. The only problem with that is... I can't swim. Literally and metaphorically speaking. That's never stopped me in the past. I've jumped off cliffs fully clothed into the depths of the cold pacific ocean, never really thinking about a way out. Never really that concerned that I couldn't swim. I've always made it out even at the risk of making hamburger meat out of my hands and knees.

So I sit here, restless and needing something intense to happen. I could just up and quit my job and move somewhere far away. I could plan a trip to some crazy country where I don't speak the language and where the food would upset my tummy immensely. I could buy an RV and become an urban gypsy, making the ocean my backyard.

I could do this all now; I could do this all alone. And with that thought I feel a tug on my heart and my tummy drops a little. Who wants to do that? Though it's not the end of the world there is just something to be said for sharing reckless, impulsive behavior and letting it inspire the life of both you and a partner.

So for now, I am looking for recklessness to do on my own because I crave an interesting life.

The Force

I've been geeking out all afternoon so this just kind of goes with the theme (even though, I haven't ever really seen Starwars).

May the force be with you this Friday and all through the weekend:

The Force: VW Commercial (it's cute)

Hot Cross Buns

They are hot and they are cross

When I was little, my Mum used to get these amazing hot cross buns from a bakery in the Braeside area of Calgary. I've mentioned this bakery before and the more I ravenously lust  think about it, this was an epic bakery. Now these hot cross buns were filled with dried fruits, rich in spice with a fluffy, airy texture. The crosses were made out of pastry as apposed to that nasty spray cheese icing stuff ( I have no idea what it is so all I can do is describe it.) you find on the grocery brand ones. My favorite thing to do was to to slather the insides with butter and then throw them in an over till everything was melted and toasty. I could comfortably eat a dozen in one sitting. Amazing.

But, as with many things, the bakery closed down in the early 90's and I was left with nothing. Since then, I've been searching for a the perfect Hot Cross Bun. I'm sad to say (and partly this might have to do with the science of memory- seriously... the is a reason why nothing ever tastes as good as it did when you were younger) that nothing comes close to those buns I had over 20 years ago.

So, as of today... I find myself with a bunch of baking yeast that will be going bad in June. I have about 6 recipes worth so I need to get started using it up. I usually bake bread, especially if I am going out to my families cabin (why buy when you can make?) but I want to make fun things, exciting things, things like an epic batch of Hot Cross Buns.

I started doing research on recipes about a month ago but kind of like Fruit Cake, there are such a variety of of methods and ingredients that I can't seem to find a solid foundation to start at. I want traditional, I want light and fluffy, I want spiced and flavourful. I want quality. I realise that Hot Cross Buns are old fashion and traditional- apparently pies are the "it" food for 2011 (Mmmm pie). I don't even know if anyone other than me and my Dad still like them. So, this is where I ask you, my lovely loyal readers, for help. Is there anything that you might have that you can share with me? A recipe that was passed down through your family, a suggestion of a site that never fails to give you the best methods for cooking. Anything, any place where I can start... I just need a tip, I can do the rest and take the pictures to prove it.

So with that being said, this is the beginning of my Hot Cross journey as well as a baking adventure. With all that baking yeast I have sitting in my baking cupboard I plan to make a lot. Other things on my list include pain au chocolate, hearty bird seed bread (that's what I call whole grain break with nuts and seeds in it), pizza dough (hey, who doesn't love a good pizza crust- you can freeze it before the second rise for future home made dinners), and perhaps some gooey cinnamon bread.

Mmmmmm...


picture borrowed from Monnonite Girls Can Cook

Chocolate School 101

Whatever you do, don't eat the wrappers. Unless it's a cupcake.

I kind of like chocolate. The good stuff. I like it mixed or included with other stuff. Recently though, I've been staying away from it. With my stomach issues I don't really think that chocolate is being that helpful. But I still like it, sometimes even love it. I miss it in my morning vanilla bean steamer. I've always thought that the caffeine in chocolate was what did me in because it's no lie that caffeine and I don't get along. Already being a spinning top of energy, putting extra in me just spins me out of control to a point of panic attacks and paranoia (and you think I'm exaggerating).

But as it turns out, it doesn't really have that much caffeine in it anyway. You would have to eat more than a dozen chocolate bars to get the same amount of caffeine from a cup of coffee? There are about 5 to 10 mg's of caffeine in one ounce of bitter chocolate, 5 mg's in milk chocolate and 10 mg's in a six-ounce cup of cocoa.

Other facts about Chocolate, in case you were interested:

• Chocolate is actually a valuable energy source. A single chocolate chip can provide enough energy for an adult human to walk 150 feet.
• Chocolate has great health benefits. It helps with depression, high blood pressure, tumours and pre-menstrual syndrome.
• Chocolate does not cause or aggravate acne. This is a myth.
• One ounce of baking chocolate or cocoa contains 10% of the daily-recommended intake of iron.
• Chocolate can be deadly for dogs. Chocolate contains an ingredient called "theobromine" which can be toxic to a dog's central nervous system and cardiac muscles.
• People spend more than $7 billion dollars a year on chocolate.
• The per capita consumption of chocolate indicates that each person consumes 12 pounds of chocolate per year.
• Milk chocolate is the most preferred type of chocolate. However, dark chocolate is especially popular with men.
• In Alfred Hitchcock's classic movie "Psycho", chocolate syrup was used to indicate blood in the famous shower scene.

Do you like Chocolate or can you live without it? If there was a bag of Chocolate Chips sitting in front of you waiting to be consumed, could you resist?


Chocolate info borrowed with love from the Hotel Arts Group monthly email.

Dear Sweet Potato

nasty little buggers

Dear Sweet Potato,

I'm sorry to have to break this to you but I really don't like you. Or anyone in your family. You make me gag a little. Okay, a lot. I try, I honestly do but ever since I was a child, you were always the last thing left on my plate after Christmas dinner. I'd eat Brussel Sprouts instead of you. Now that I am an adult and have eaten other nasty things like Sweet Bread, Lamb Brain, Goose Liver, Jellyfish, KFC... I still would vote that you are by far the nastiest thing in that list. Well, maybe I'd eat you over KFC (sorry Steve).

So, if you don't mind... please try to respect my boundaries and keep our contact to a minimum.

Thank you for understanding,

B.