I'm not exactly sure where to begin with all the ridiculous wonderfulness this weekend!

1. Thrusting one's hips like a "porn star", grabbing one's "snatch", and thumbing to one's bum...

Uncomfortable turns of phrase? Yes! Also a number of the moves Fingers and I learned in our inaugural Kettle Bell class Friday night!

The event started as awkwardly as humanely possible (I'll spare you the details) and continued in a progressively bizarre manner, including someone in the class continuously and rather loudly referencing her "jiggling thighs" and the majority of the evening being unconsentingly caught on video tape by the gym owner as he recorded the first Kettle class for the studio's webpage. At one point the instructor told Fingers to "use her huge chest" for momentum...? And if you've seen Couples Retreat you'll appreciate the horrible comedy of watching the instructor demonstrate The Swing on your neighbor whilst repeatedly chanting:

Boom... Boom... Boom...

A workout, to be sure, but not an experience I'm gagging to repeat anytime soon.

2. Beef and I took a cooking class today at the local community college, taught by a local chef: Comfort Food 101. On the menu was chicken curry pot pie, parsnip ginger soup, roasted root veg with maple glaze, and baked pears with a green tea syrup glaze.

But while we enjoyed the undeniable talent and charm of our instructor, our fellow classmates were a strange group, to say the least. Don't get me wrong: they were lovely, lovely people. But while I am by no means a wiz in the kitchen (hence the class...) I know to hold the handle of a pot when stirring, that sweetbreads are not pastries, and that while yes, duck, chicken, and goose are all considered "poultry" they are in fact, different...

3. We taped out of our culinary adventure around 2:30 just in time to hit up the teen dance championships taking place in the same venue.

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And the only thing more awkward than using the word "snatch" in a post you know your mother is reading is watching 16 year-old lyrical jazz dance solos.

All in all, a truly cultural weekend full of learning experiences: the planks in Friday night's class taught me running has given me some crazy strong abs (which are hiding under the not-so-surprising muffin); Orange was right: truffle pigs ARE where it's at; and yes, there can be bad renditions of Footloose.

There's something to be said for intuition.

I am a firm believer that there is a sixth sense. An awareness that sends shivers down one's spine, goose pimples to appear on one's arms, or causes the thinker to wonder what dark recess of one's mind a random thought has been pulled. I think we often choose to ignore or push away these intuitions because they are usually sensing a situation or issue we're choosing to ignore for whatever unpleasant reason--no matter how many times it proves itself untrue, we convince ourselves that if we ignore it, surely the issue will fade away like a sneeze that never manifests itself from the initial tickle.

I thought of a professional friend last week... Someone I worked with in a brief capacity a couple of years ago, but who was so lovely and so vibrant that we took special care to keep in touch from time to time. I was a reference for her in her first professional job, we had lunch a couple of times, and there was the odd email update on her precious dog, Minnie, and her new home in a commuter town north of the city. I thought to myself late last week "I should email her and check in on the job and the house, find out how she and her newlywed husband are... It would be nice to mentor her in the way my good friend, Rosie, has mentored me." And so I added to my mental list, "get in touch."

I found out today that she passed away on Friday. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. And truthfully, in one of the saddest ways possible. The news hit me like a truck. I actually pushed my chair back from my desk in disbelief, shaking my head and covering my open mouth in shock."No, that's not true. I just thought about her. No. It can't be. Things like that don't happen in 2011."

I can still see her pretty smile, her bouncy curls, and her natural spirit that put anyone and everyone at ease. I know last week, some part of that spirit passed through me, bringing her to mind, allowing me to reflect on the memories I have of her. I will endeavour to celebrate her in the effort I put into my work, knowing how great an impact she would have made on the profession. And I will mourn the loss of someone who was robbed of life too soon.

Busybusybusybusybusy

I like being busy because it means:

1. Lists. I like lists.
2. The day moves quickly.

It can be disconcerting though, when you repeatedly get to the end of your shift and think "It's been 8 hours already?" The work is enjoyable, though, and when you're in something new and developing fresh skills and talking to people about subjects that are totally foreign to you... Well, it's just plain nice to be using a new part of my brain and to have shed the burden that was becoming a uncomfortably comfortable job. Savvy?

I'm also reading a disgusting amount. Mostly because I have to, what with the book clubs, and programming selections, and reviews I'm responsible for. But I've been in a reading rut lately so it's refreshing to turn into a book now and again as opposed to the TV. So far, that list has included:

• People of the Book, Geraldine Brooks (not recommended...)
• Every Last One, Anna Quindlen
• The Abortionists Daughter, Elisabethe Hyde (she just had to spell it with an "s", huh?)
• The Oultander, Gil Adamson
• Nine Lives of Charlotte Taylor, Sally Armstrong (loved it!)
• and my next is Midnight at the Dragon Cafe, J. Bates Fong

Anything anyone wants to suggest as a possible read to add to the list?

I'm really into the Local Natives right now...

Tomorrow is my dad's birthday.

And because five years ago he signed me up for a cell phone as a Christmas present, and regardless of how many new contracts I've signed and/or how may conversations I've had with Telus explaining that:

A) He died.
B) I am 31 and thus responsible enough to have my own phone

... they continue to send my "happy birthday" text messages on this day. I suppose I should be grateful for the opportunity to make as many free local calls as I want tomorrow?

Nah. I'd rather continue thinking Telus is just a bunch of @ssholes.

Happy birthday, Pop. And (pardon my French, Aunt Margie) f*ck you, Telus.

Coincidence?

On Saturday, at the start of my long run, I was pooped on by a bird. One blob, a direct hit to the centre of my right sneaker.

Last night, I pumped exactly 40L of gas.

Today, I bought a lottery ticket.

Cheaters never prosper.

Something I thankfully learned a long time ago. But it looks like I'm getting the last laugh again with yet another cheater (and so is Susie, and Orange too!)

The wanker who scammed us out of money for the Mumford and Sons tickets last October has been identified by police. I was contacted by a Detective Constable in the city and asked the specifics of my case and as of this morning with a little back info from me, charges are pending.

Take that, sucker!

*karate chop*
*kung foo kicks*

I ran in the extreme cold and have subsequently lost feeling in part of my earlobes.

One would assume one's lobes are not connected to one's eyeballs, and yet there are those who would claim the frost touched more than one of my senses. Last night we were watching the football playoffs and in-between the Chicago-Green Bay game and the Pittsburgh-NY game there was a brief flash to a Sports Centre sportscaster who, sitting at his desk looking at the camera, said (and I quote):

"Thanks for watching the game, I look like I'm tanned."

At which point the channel then cut to an unrelated commercial.

DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THIS?!

I'm really into this song right now.

p.s. An update on the deer situation: I'm currently at work, but while Orange was at home this morning talking to a Jehovah Witness at the front door (don't ask...) a stag ran down the street into our backyard. The latest, I'm told, is that Stag and Tripod are eating together under the spruce!

(two deer in the across-the-ravine-neighbour's backyard)

I know I'm 31 but...

... Holy feck, I really want to see THIS.

There is a deer living in our backyard.

We first noticed her on December 27th while we were unpacking Christmas gifts, back at home after the holidays. She was sitting underneath one of the large picture windows, curled up tight like she had been there since Hanukkah. At first she didn't notice us gawking at her through the curtains, but soon turned her pretty head, no doubt feeling the beady eyes of her Peeping Toms upon her. If it was possible, I swear you could literally see the "ahh, sh*t" look cross her face, realizing she would now have to find a new quiet place to shelter.

It was at that point we realized she had a broken leg, or some sort of serious leg injury. She got up, and slowly began moving done the ravine. No matter how discreet we tried to be in our staring she refused to stay in the yard and soon found her way into the across-the-ravine neighbour's yard.

But it would seem our house is still her sleeping spot. Night after night she returns to our picture window to snuggle against the wall, sheltered in the curve of the house from the wind, protected by the blend of her fur into the brick, as captivated in the quiet of our home as we are.

Concerned for her comfort, we eventually made the dreaded call to Animal Aid. We were worried she was in pain. But the visit from AA was anticlimactic... There is nothing they can do for a three legged deer. They can't destroy her, as it would involve firing at a moving target in a residential area. And you don't see many deer in full leg casts. AA told us to call them if she became immobile.

So as it stands, Tripod (that's what we are choosing to call her) is squatting in our yard, eating our carrots and bruised apples. Orange leaves salted water near her sleeping nest, and every morning over my Kashi cereal and hot coffee I watch her walk/hobble away, down into he ravine for her daily constitutional.

We've noticed other people supporting her with deer pellets and veggies. I've emailed our local celebrate vet to ask for advice.

Orange wants to get her a salt lick...

Bert's just happy to have a new sister.

So apparently it's possible to be addicted to ventriloquism...?

Who are these people?

In other news:

1. I started my running clinic last night in preparation for ATB. Now, ordinarily I'd say I was a pretty confident runner--far from the head of the pack, but I hold my own. Until last night.

I was literally the ONLY PERSON in a room of 60+ that hadn't run the complete race before, and when they posed the question to the group and I, the lone reed in the wilderness, raised my hand in the back of the room, I swear the record stopped and crickets were audible.

The cheese stands alone, I guess...

So I rallied, and while stuffing down a raging cold, readied myself for my first interval experience. And... I felt about as fast as this guy.

Me hopes I leave my grumpy pants at home on Thursday...

2. I called Lil'C "my partner" a few weeks ago--"come on, partner, lets go!"--and now he calls me his par'ner...

I heart this.

3. Are the holidays seriously over?

Resolutions 2011

It's a big year, what with our coming into the final 24 months of the Mayan calendar--December 2012 is just around the corner, peeps! So it's time to pony up and make some resolutions before the world comes to a crashing end.

2010 was a pretty good year... Lost of firsts, and some surprising seconds. Here's hoping 2011 is just as eventful with more time for family, friends, and fun.

As a review, in 2010 I promised to:

1. Floss. Yup, Orange got me on board this gravy train. Although I'm embarrassed to say we do this together in front of the TV. Perhaps not the most attractive habit to get into...

2. Be a (more) positive person. Specifically at work. Still working on this one, although the libearian camp I went to in early December certainly helped with this. 

3. Learn a new skill. Yoga (thank you, Fingers!)

4. Finish my annual Bronte 10km race in 50 minutes or less. Ha! Yeah right... But to counteract this I ran the Ottawa 1/2 Marathon in 2:00:11 which I think is pretty damn good, and a killer Boxing Day 10 Mile Race in 1:35.

5. Get a better deal on car insurance. God, I'm old... This I'm sad to say was a dismal failure for 2010, but with great hope for 2011, in a combo attempt with Orange and his house insurance. The joys of cohabitation!

6. Shock someone with a decision. Hmm... Well, I accepted a new job in 2010, did I tell you that? I'm now a slightly bigger deal, in a substantially larger, personal office. It was a wrestle back and forth between two opportunities. In the end I took the less impressive, less financially profitable path. Shocking? Maybe not. But a big change none the less...

7. Give more. Check, check, and check.

8. Lose the muffin top. Le sigh...

9. Develop a green thumb. Totally! Orange's house fed this resolution with ease, and after tilling and tending to the front and side yard in spring and summer, I'm eager to see what I can do with the space in 2011. I've already got plans to expand the gardens and to get Orange's mom in on the work with her crazy knowledge of perennials.

10. Complete at least half of my birthday activities with Fingers. Another failure, although we did do a lot of other groovy things together, like yoga, Florida, Zenomenon, our/her first race (*eye roll*). I'm determined to dig this list out of my moving boxes and get to work on it for 2011, though.

11. Cancel my cable. Pray Shiloh I can convince myself to actually follow through. Ha! Done and done, although technically I only cancelled it because I was moving into Orange's house where he has a satellite receiver... *blush*

As for 2011, well, let's get things started off right:

1. Put more into investments and get more financially minded.
2. Take a risk. A big one.
3. Learn something new.
4. Travel somewhere.
5. Be more empathetic.
6. Run Around the Bay in less than 3 hours.
7. Get a better deal on car insurance (!!!)
8. Start taking vitamins daily.
9. Lost the muffin top...
10. Get out of my reading comfort zone.
11. Eat more locally.

Anyone want to volunteer theirs?

Just in case we don't talk tomorrow...

... Christmas comes but once a year. And now it's here!



Merry Christmas. Peace and joy to everyone and theirs.

I'm Catholic so I'm allowed to giggle at this...

I've just baked my weight in ginger snaps.

I love a good snap. They're the best for coffee dunking and milk dipping. One of my favorite parts of the Christmas season--although closely tailed by Christmas Comes But Once a Year and my annual Christmas Eve trip to the market--is perhaps the exchange of Christmas baking. We make the standard macaroons (which I could eat until the cows come home...), Christmas cake, and grandma sends shortbread and mince meat pies. But then there are the peanut butter squares and Nanaimo bars from next door, and the ladies at church give us bacon buns, BSB shares his nuts with the neighbourhood (tee hee...) etc. etc. etc.

In Edmonton, a friend used to make butter tarts that were to die for, and were even better when kept frozen and eaten cold. Yum!

I'll now add to this annual mix my snaps, which considering the company I keep logically must be of the ginger variety. Being that my butters hardly needs 60 sugared cookies, my peeps best keep their eyes peeled for random deliveries. Speak 'nay' now or be sure to receive your fair share...

There is merit to organization...

... Says the librarian.

Because of the super duper Christmas spreadsheet I'm rocking, I was able to power through the mall tonight and in less than an hour cross nearly a third off my list. This isn't to say I'm not putting thought into my gift giving, 'cause no one loves surprising someone more than me, it's just trying to find the time to squeeze it all in.

And truth be told, I love being jammed into line with a million other people at Christmas time, routing around in piles for the right size or colour or scent. It's like a tamed-down version of The Amazing Race with a Feliz Navidad soundtrack and without the $250,000 grand prize or watermelon in the face...

p.s. Although we have a wood stove, I hesitate to use it when Orange is away because with my luck I'd cause some sort of damage to his newly varathaned floors. So in an effort to increase the festivity in the house I downloaded the fireplace app...

NetFlix blows my mind...

I've just spent the last 30 minutes perusing their ridiculous collection of offerings and I'm not sure where to start:

An Education?
Season one of Mad Men?
A PBS documentary on the Amish?

How is Blockbuster still in business? Hallelujah, Play Station 3.

And save your breath to cool your porridge, Beef... Yes, there's an app for that...

Things there are a lot of in our fridge:

1. Bags of lettuce
2. Bags of milk
3. Bags
4. Bars of cheese
5. Jars of peanut butter, both natural and the fake stuff
6. Ketchup (thank you CostCo...)

*sigh*

It's like I'm reverting to 2001. Next thing you know I'll be eating Kraft Macaroni and Cheese out of the pot.

Somebody... Intervene... Please... Before I end up in a diaper.