Be an Olympic athlete.
Eat, sleep, breathe your sport. Have a goal that is so incredibly huge that it's what you have been working your whole life for. Have a body and drive that reflects that. Have more self-discipline than I could even dream about. Make me want to grate cheese over your washboard abs (did I say that out loud?)
Even though you've been working your whole life for the moment, hoping, praying, training, cry tears of joy and pride when you stand on the podium with a medal strung around your neck. Hug your parents, your coaches, your teammates like they are the only people in the stadium. Make your country incredibly proud. Inspire millions of young hopefuls around the world to go for the gold.
Be an Olympic athlete.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
Letterbox
Remember that "Photo a day" challenge I said I was gonna do? Yeah, me neither. I guess it's more like "Photo when I feel like it."
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Is it just me, or are kids these days, like, really freakin’ cute?
I was at
work tonight, and a little girl walked up to my desk with her mom.
“Excuth me, do you have any bookths about mermaidths?” she asked, looking up at me with bright blue eyes framed by reckless golden curls.
“I think so,” I replied. “What kind of books are you looking for? Story books, chapter books…?”
“Justh anything about mermaidths,” she answered, so unbelievably sure of herself.
“Thankths for helping me,” she said, her eyes shining. “I’m going to camp nexth week, but when I get home I’m going to come back here and look at more bookths. I like it here.”
I ’ve heard
about the whole “biological clock” thing, but I always chalked it up to urban legend.
I’m not a bad person. I’ve never stolen anything. But tonight, I had the strongest urge to just pick that little girl up, cuddle her for about five hours, have her tell me stories, and cap off the evening by feasting on her little chubby cheeks.
“Excuth me, do you have any bookths about mermaidths?” she asked, looking up at me with bright blue eyes framed by reckless golden curls.
“I think so,” I replied. “What kind of books are you looking for? Story books, chapter books…?”
“Justh anything about mermaidths,” she answered, so unbelievably sure of herself.
I walked her
and her mom over to the section, and pointed out that here, she could also find
books about fairies and princesses. Her eyes lit up.
Fifteen
minutes later, I walked by again. There she was, sitting on the floor in front
of the book stacks, totally engrossed in one of the books I had shown her.
Around her on the floor were about 7 other books, open to various sections. I
smiled.
When she was
done exploring, she came back to see me, refreshed, I think, by the new
possibilities lying before her.
“Thankths for helping me,” she said, her eyes shining. “I’m going to camp nexth week, but when I get home I’m going to come back here and look at more bookths. I like it here.”
That sound you heard tonight at about 7 p.m.? That was my ovaries exploding.
I’m not a bad person. I’ve never stolen anything. But tonight, I had the strongest urge to just pick that little girl up, cuddle her for about five hours, have her tell me stories, and cap off the evening by feasting on her little chubby cheeks.
Can’t argue
with basic biology, people. If there is such thing as a biological clock, then
mine? Mine is just-a tickin’.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Home
This weekend, we went to our second summer wedding in North Bay. It was perfect. The bride was beautiful, the weather was warm and sunny, everyone was happy.
It's really no secret that I, like hundreds of romantic, starry eyed women around the world, love weddings. Even strangers walking down the aisle with their fathers bring me to tears every time. There's a commercial on TV for a suit company that really gets the waterworks flowing. And DON'T EVEN get me started on wedding country songs.
The two weddings in North Bay this summer though, have felt different somehow. All of those warm and fuzzy wedding feelings are still there, but layered on top of them is the warm and fuzzy feeling that I am home. Besides my Dad's house at Nellie Lake, I have never felt more at home than I do in North Bay. It really pained me to leave that city with its glittery water and oh-so-close proximity to Toronto, Ottawa, and Sudbury (shopping!).
A big part of what made that place feel so homey though, were the people. In the short time that I lived there, I made some totally amazing friends. People who have taken care of me, celebrated with me, cried with me, booked my oil changes for me, helped me move, hosted my birthday parties, and brought me tea at work when I was having a bad day.
My people are what made North Bay the place I wanted to stay. I looked around the dance floor on Saturday night and I couldn't help but smile. My people were the only ones left. The bride was being lifted up on a chair, Hora style. Two girlfriends had taken over the DJ booth, including his microphone and sunglasses. One friend ran around the dance floor, using the hall decorations as a cape. And right about now, as they get married, have their babies, and build their lives, I'm really starting to miss those weirdos.
When I moved back to Timmins, I vowed that I would one day return to North Bay, to my people. It's a promise to myself that I'm not quite ready to let go of yet.
I'm not sure when, or how, but when the time is just right, I'll be back. And this time I'm not coming alone.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Love story
I was supposed to do the dishes and get ready for bed hours ago, but I've been watching blown away by some really rad videos online.
This is my favourite one. And now I'm going to go have some beautiful, windswept love dreams.
This is my favourite one. And now I'm going to go have some beautiful, windswept love dreams.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Day 3: J'adore
We went to the pet store the other day to get a goldfish. See, when the roomate and I moved in together, it was our intention to get a dog. Unfortunately our landlord had other plans. I believe her exact words were "absolutely not. No way. Keep dreaming, suckas!"
We still wanted some LIFE in the apartment. So, Goldfish it was. But those baby bunnies were SO cute! The roomate said I could get one if I a) paid for it myself, b) took on all of the responsibility and c) referred to it only as MY bunny and not OUR bunny. Of course, I immediately started using phrases like "We're going to be so happy with our new bunny," and "Did you know that our bunny will probably live for the next 10-12 years?"
They couldn't really tell us much about the bunny at the pet store. Pretty much the only info we got was that it is, in fact, a bunny. They said it was too young to tell the sex, and it was either a Dwarf rabbit or a Lop-eared rabbit. "Oh, I don't know, a few months?" is what I got when I asked how old BunBun is. Umm, is that a question?
We've been calling him all sorts of things. Gandalf the Grey, Uncle Buck, UB, Ubes, Ubester, Eleanor Rigby, Fou-Fou and of course the ever-popular BunBun. I guess when we finally figure out if it's a boy or girl, we'll be able to nail down a name.
Here "someone" looks pretty excited when "someone" said "someone" didn't want to have anything to do with the bunny:
As for me, I'm just waiting for this awkward phase to pass where BunBun goes from not wanting to have anything to do with me to snuggling up on the couch and watching five consecutive episodes of How I Met Your Mother. It didn't talk much about this in the bunny books, but I figure, how different can bunnies and dogs really be?
Right?
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Day 2: Breakfast
Usually I eat two breakfasts; one as soon as I get up in the morning and the second at work about two hours later. This is number one. I ate the peach for my second breakfast - but doesn't it add a nice pop of colour? Don't say you're not enthralled.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Me
I decided to try this:
I realize it says January, but I figure I can use it every month. I know technically I'm supposed to be the one taking the photo, but I couldn't resist sharing this amazing snapshot my girlfriend sent to me.
Don't mind the bloody gibs...they came from a pinata during last weekend's bachelorette party.
Here we go with number one: Me.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Summer lovin'
I've often said I would live in a place with no winter whatsoever. My ideal environment is one where the temperature hovers around 30 degrees celcius, a light breeze rustles the leaves, and the sun warms our faces as we sit in a park and sip red wine. Then we will go home to our lava lamps and burn our hemp-scented candles while Bon Iver sings smoothly from the speakers.
While most complain about the heat, you will NEVER hear me do so. Summer's here. It's finally here. In full bloom. Best time of the year.
From October until about May or June, I am cold. July and August are the best months of the year for many reasons - a big one being these are the two months when I am finally warm. Even as I type this, I'm fighting the urge to turn around and close the window behind me (the breeze is a little nippy, ok?)
Everything's better in Summer.
Clothes are brighter. Everything is brighter. Trees, flowers, grass, the sky - it's all alive and thriving.
While most complain about the heat, you will NEVER hear me do so. Summer's here. It's finally here. In full bloom. Best time of the year.
From October until about May or June, I am cold. July and August are the best months of the year for many reasons - a big one being these are the two months when I am finally warm. Even as I type this, I'm fighting the urge to turn around and close the window behind me (the breeze is a little nippy, ok?)
Everything's better in Summer.
Clothes are brighter. Everything is brighter. Trees, flowers, grass, the sky - it's all alive and thriving.
Dinner parties are great in the summer. What other time of year can you be praised for serving grilled hot dogs, potato chips and lemonade?
Summer time is a total kids' season. No heavy coats, no boots, no hats, mittens or toques. You don't even have to have your hair blow-dried before bed. Shorts, t-shirts, barefeet in the cool grass, chalk drawings on the sidewalk.
Everything seems so much more relaxed in the summer. Maybe it's the heat, or the fact that nothing seems so crucial in the summer. Work can be put off ("she's on vacation until next week, let's just do it then,") and you take the long way on the walk to work. The days are longer, and taking a walk in the pink glow of another beautiful sunset at 9 p.m. becomes a favourite ritual. A stopover at the park on the way home takes priority to housework.
In summer, there are patios, mohitos (with breakfast!) and cute sundresses. There are days spent lounging by the lake and nights around a cozy campfire.
For me, the best part about summer is lying in bed at night, listening to cars go by the open window. Falling asleep to the hum of frogs and crickets while a light breeze gently fans the linen curtains.
There's also the sweatbands. Dear jesus don't forget the sweatbands.
Happy Summer you guys! Go enjoy.
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