Classic Lustre

Operation Basement Storm 3

2010-07-29T16:46:00.000-07:00

Day 59

I am zen. I am zen. I am zen.
It's all good.
Whatev'

See? I am super cool. And it doesn't bother me in the slightest that two walls are in completely the wrong place. That's okay. I'm zen. I am so zen that I don't even care how they do it, just that they do it. Properly would be crazy awesome.

Every time our contractor comes upstairs and says, "We have an issue," I smile beatifically. I put a maniacally cheerful smile on my face and say, a little too brightly, "Well, let's go solve it!". He gives me a worried look because my eyes are slightly glazed over from my incredibly blissed-out state of zen. He most likely assumes otherwise. And I'm quite sure that's why walls sometimes go in the wrong places: he's told his crew that I am unpredictable and they should just get in and out as fast as possible. And don't make eye-contact.

And with a house as old as this, one would expect issues. I've come to learn that for every grimace or beard-scratch, it will be another thousand dollars.

Gmail is Freaking Me Out

2010-07-29T16:38:00.000-07:00

So I sit down for the first time today and get ready to have a quick Gmail chat with Husband. I guiltily tuck into a Draft Root Beer (too much sugar but sooooo good) and the first sponsored links I see on my Gmail page are

BARIATRIC SURGERY

SPECIAL K CHALLENGE

and
KASHI: Cereal Nutritional Value.

And I say, "Come ON Gmail! It's just a root beer! One. Give me a break!"

And then I realize, I am a profoundly disturbed individual.

Exhibit A:
I am talking to my laptop

Exhibit B
I am assuming that it is sentient

Exhibit C
I am so paranoid that I think it's sentient and mean-spirited.

And this is why I am absolutely insane.

Unexpected Item in Bagging Area

2010-07-25T21:00:00.000-07:00

All the big chains are doing it. And it seemed like a good idea at the time. But in reality, it's a colossal pain in the ass.

The self-check-out. Isn't that what you do when passing a reflective surface and can't resist the urge to check your bad self out?

Why a self-check-out? What do cashiers do? I did the shopping - you do the checking out. It's always worked that way. Do you want me to go and make some cookies in the bakery too? Or grab some carts from the parking lot?

You start. A mellow female voice asks you, "Have you scanned your club card?"

Okay, here you go.

"Begin scanning items."

Wee. I can do this nooooo problem.

"Unexpected item in bagging area."

What? I didn't put anything in the bagging area! 'PLEASE REMOVE ITEM.'

There's nothing TO remove. What are you talking about? PLEASE WAIT FOR ASSISTANCE.

Okay. Fine. I'll wait. Tap tap tap....here comes assistance. The friendly lady with the weird eyebrows and the apron comes over to scan her card and all is well.

Until. UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA.

What? What do you mean it's 'unexpected'? You just scanned this! You know it's a head of lettuce. You just TOLD me it cost me ONE. FORTYNINE. I heard you say it all 'technical' like.

PLEASE WAIT FOR ASSISTANCE.

Okay. I will wait. Again.

Friendly lady with apron comes over again. We go through the entire process again.

And again. This happens nine times. I'm not kidding. Nine. This was quickly turning into unhappy hour. The line-up behind me was growing.

I start talking to the Self Checkout. I start asking it rhetorical questions. "Item removed from your douche-bagging area! C'mon! WORK with me!"

This system is quickly becoming the world's most expensive punching-bag.

After nine visits from the increasingly less-friendly cashier, I am finally done. I owe the machine $100.23. BECAUSE BILL EXCEEDS ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS, CUSTOMER ID REQUIRED. PLEASE WAIT FOR ASSISTANCE.

I can't feel my legs.

Self-checkout could also be a euphemism for suicide.

Next Time: air travel

2010-07-22T10:28:00.001-07:00

I've just had an AWESOME vacation to the place I wanted most to see in the world: Paris, France.

Sacre bleu, it was fantastic. I actually saw dudes on bicycles wearing suits and berets and carrying baguettes. I would not make that up. I make a lot of shit up, but that's not one of them.

There's much to chronicle, but for now, I keep chanting to myself: Make a List. All the things I wish I'd done differently. Please chime in. I, for one, am like Mr. T from the A Team who had to be tranquilized every time he went on a plane. I can totally relate to that, and I wouldn't refuse an offer of anesthetic on the rocks.

Stupidest Thing I Took To Europe:
-Ceramic hair straightener (just go with the flow)
-Jewelry (never wore)
-Too. Many. Clothes.
-Too. Many. Shoes.

Best Thing I Took To Europe:
-Gravol
-Military jacket
-Flat shoes
-Reversible dress
-Camera

Next time I'm on a plane, I hope to remember this:
-order a vegan meal in advance:
"Chicken or beef?""Chicken or beef?""Chicken or beef?""Chicken or beef?" Neither, thanks. Because I forgot to order a special meal in enough time, I had to make do. One kind attendant said, "Honey, aren't you hungry?" When I explained that I was vegetarian and forgot to order a meal, she said, "I'll see if I can find you something in the back". She brought me a cheese-drenched pasta dish. I was so hungry I was almost tempted to eat it. But I know what happens if I do that and since I was sitting in a window seat and would have to leap over two people and fight my way to the toilet IMMEDIATELY, I didn't risk it.

I have a friend who, for the past several years, has been working his way through all the special diets you can order from on planes. Just because. He's gone from Kosher to Fruitarian and says it doesn't matter what you order, as long as you order. It's always fresher and you always get served first. Done.

-buy a bottle of Gatorade. Or five.
Okay, you can't pack it because they'll confiscate it. Husband is convinced this serves two purposes: the theatre of safety and being able to charge you seventeen dollars for a bottle of water. What I had forgotten is just how much moisture gets sucked out of your body on a plane. If I were a grape, I'd be a raisin a few hours later. Gatorade tastes like vomit, but it does rehydrate you. Possibly even better than water in this case. And get a seat near the loo.

-earplugs
This makes a HUGE difference. I didn't use them on the flight over and it's pretty hard to sleep with a jet engine running. They help. A lot. Especially if there are people chatting up a storm nearby.

-Gas-X
Changes in cabin pressure can make you gassy. If you're on a weird schedule, have been eating strange food and your system is out of whack, plane-travel can make you a time bomb. Sorry to whomever has to sit near me. I'll take some Gas-X next time. The ginger tea did NUTHIN'....

-lip balm
Grape to raisin again. What is WITH that? I was putting it on every 30 minutes!

Other Tips:
Travel with someone calm. (I don't recommend myself at all.)

Operation Basement Storm 2

2010-06-30T13:48:00.000-07:00

An open letter to the City of New Westminster:

Dear City,

Hi! How are you? We're fine. Because now that we have met your plumbing inspector twice, we're, like, changed people.

Oh, it was so funny! I love your sense of humour - it's like you know just how to punk someone but good! On June 23 your Plumbing Inspector Jason made an on-site inspection of our project with regard to drain tile and its sustainability in our basement renovation. That was a big sentence!

He was all friendly and fun and he said to our contractor, "Yeah, totally, man - go ahead with the framing and concrete pouring! Pour that concrete! It'll be awesome!"

So our contractor, who's one of those naive and trusting dudes did it, and we paid him for it.

Here's the hilarious part: today Jason comes back, and he's all "No way dude! I changed my mind. This has all gotta come out!" So we're all laughing, ha ha ha. You can't just get concrete to 'come out' no matter how much it likes show tunes. It's pretty solid, you know?! Man, that guy's a card.

Then he's all, "I cannot authorize the work to continue unless my directions are followed," and we're laughing so hard we're crying. "Hahaha! Like our project is on hold now and we still have to pay for your fuck-up!" Pffft! Imagine!

Contractor's looking at me with the saddest eyes.

Dude.

No.

Well. Okay. But we've all make mistakes! It's okay as long as we take responsibility for them.

So we have forwarded the invoice for the work Jason instructed to be done, and are certain that the City of New Westminster will reimburse us for this.

WE CAN PLAY TOO, DOUCHEBAGS!

main-lining lentil soup.

2010-06-28T09:34:00.000-07:00

Mealtime is a celebration, an occasion to come together as a family to nourish the body, mind and soul. It is also a time to teach children about nutrition and manners, how to have polite conversations. Any disagreements are handled within a framework of reason and dialogue.

And maybe a few tantrums for good measure.

The latter is the norm in our house. I dreamed of mealtime celebrations. Instead, I usually have indigestion. So now I'm sitting here at Wit's End waiting for help to arrive.

Parenting 911: What is the nature of your emergency?

ME: My kids refuse to eat anything that isn't cereal.

Parenting 911: Do they eat melted cheese?

ME: Yes. That too. Sorry.

Parenting 911: It's okay. Just calm down. What exactly did you put in front of them on the table?

ME: Uh...uh...hang on...it was...a...lentil soup.

Parenting 911: Homemade or store-bought?

ME: Homemade.

Parenting 911: Oh dear. That's more serious then. Because you've taken out the massive sodium content of a packaged soup, so they're less likely to eat it now.

ME: (sobbing) I know! I know! I just want them to be healthy! I didn't mean to cause so much trouble. Can I get an IV so that I can get these vitamins and minerals into them?

Parenting 911: It's okay Ma'am. We've never heard of anyone main-lining lentil soup. Have you tried bribing them with dessert?

ME: Yes.

Parenting 911: Alright that's not recommended either. You have probably made it worse.

ME: Oh my God! They're only little! What HAVE I DONE!?!

Parenting 911: I've got help on the way...stay on the line with me until they arrive, okay?

ME: Okay. It's just that... I didn't know what else to do!

Parenting 911: We're going to do everything we can, okay? Okay? Are you still with me? Ma'am?

ME: Hang on! I'm having a heated argument with my husband. There's a blame-storm going on over here now too!

Parenting 911: Oh, Jesus! Send out an APB, we've got an attempted food bribery in progress, and a blame-storm. Use Caution! I repeat USE CAUTION!

I WISH, there was a Parenting 911 and they'd actually come over and I could hand it over and say, "I'm outta here. Have fun!" But nay. Mealtime is a source of agony and I don't know how to handle it. So I blog.

The parenting books say, "Kids learn to listen to their bodies and it's important because a toddler who is in the habit of listening to her own body will resist unwanted sexual acts, self-destruction and drug abuse. Forcing a kid to eat when her body tells her she is full gives the message: "What you feel doesn't count. I know what you do and do not need" So she's more likely to cave into peer pressure later."

This made PERFECT sense to me. I shared it with Husband who dismissed it with, "She's not full. She just doesn't want to eat peas."

That also makes perfect (I hate to admit it) sense.

So then the experts say, "Give options with limits.". Okay, "Would you like to have your soup in your mouth or shoved up your nose?" Either way - this soup is getting in there.

I grew up in a household that insisted on a clean plate before you left the table. I hated it. The addition of a family dog who was equally sly was the greatest thing that happened to me. Until my parents caught on and the dog and I were both in trouble. He got over it WAY faster than I did and I'm sure he didn't pass on his food issues to his puppies. But he also ate his own barf.

Regardless, I made a vow to myself that I would never do that to my kids. But now, there's a part of me that says, "Why the hell not?" The conscientious part says, "Because it's torture and your children won't have positive associations with food..." Blah blah blah

What this boils down to is control. If I can't master this now, what will this lead to in the teen years?

Our house is a normal house, right? I mean apart from the vegan thing, which, let's face it - is pretty unusual. And my kids knew what life was like before Mummy went all Vegan Health Whacko. They remember the days of pork loin...and chocolate-chip cookies for dessert. Not so much anymore. I'm okay with them eating that kind of stuff somewhere else, (well, not really, but it's not a battle I choose not to fight). But since I'm the cook, I make what I gotta make. I mean, I hear ya, sistahs. But lump it.

I am flat out of ideas. I need your help! Help me Obi Wan! Or all my amazing readers! Chime in!

The Butterfly Effect

2010-06-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

I've read about the chaos theory. This was developed in France by Henri Poincaré in 1890 when he was renovating his basement.

The butterfly effect is some kind of metaphor that encapsulates the concept of sensitive dependence on initial conditions in chaos theory; namely that small differences in the initial condition of a dynamical system may produce large variations in the long term behavior of the system. What this means is that once you take away someone's washer and dryer, they lose the will to live.

You'd think these two are completely unrelated but nay. I used to eat healthy food for breakfast. Today? School chalk and a cup of coffee. Because I have no washing machine. Bear with me...

Although this may appear to be unusual behavior, according to Wikipedia it makes perfect sense: for example, a ball placed at the crest of a hill might roll into any of several valleys depending on slight differences in initial position. But if one of those valleys is renovating its basement, it will likely go there and explode into a million peices causing the owners of the valley to stab themselves repeatedly with forks.

Where do butterflies come into it? The theory is that one butterfly could have a far-reaching ripple-effect on everything. Philip Merilees said, Does the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas? And the resounding conclusion was, "Who the hell cares, where's my washing machine!?"

All my self-soothing platitudes like, "It's only downstairs, it won't affect us at all" are utter bullshit of course. I just didn't realize it would cause me to lose all interest in tidiness and organization. I don't care what I wear because I can't find anything clean under the mountain of clothes in my closet. And when that happens, I don't put things away, my kitchen becomes ruled by crumbs, and the dog is allowed on the furniture.

Attention Losers!

2010-06-14T19:44:00.000-07:00

What the hell is wrong with these people?

It's just not that hard.

I promise.

They must be related to those people who find blankets too complicated.

Three Hits and a Miss

2010-06-13T20:30:00.000-07:00

Since I'm obsessed with food this blog really ought to reflect that.

I made more recipes. Every week I make at least four new recipes. Which is roughly four times as many recipes as I used to make in any given year. So this is ridiculously successful for me.

Friday I discovered this blog and decided to try her very very wrong-sounding sandwich spread.

VERY WRONG BUT ACTUALLY OKAY SANDWICH SPREAD - proceed with caution

1/2 cup chickpeas (drained and rinsed)
1 generous tbsp natural peanut butter
1 tsp...okay maybe 2 of maple syrup

Mush it all up and spread it on toast.

Okay - yes, it IS chickpeas and peanut butter. That sounds as freaky-nasty as my kale smoothie. (Yes, I've made that too.)

I served it to the Little Girl who simply burst into tears. So I ate it. It's not bad. In fact, it's a pretty decent protein hit first thing in the morning when you need it most and when you feel like cooking least.

FREAKY-NASTY-LOOKING BUT GOOD SMOOTHIE

3-4 full leaves of chard, stalks removed
1 apple
1/2 cup frozen mangoes
3/4 cup water
toss in a frozen banana for extra sweetness

I'll be honest: this looks appalling. It tastes better. And it's the easiest way to get yer greens.
Dreena Burton made this one up. She's a whole lotta awesome.

My other favourite chef is the inimitable Sarah Kramer, whose La Dolce Vegan is my God-send. So far, everything I have made in this book is amazing. Everything. And I've made about two dozen! I'll only share the one recipe, because it wouldn't be fair to her if I gave away all her secrets when they're actually for sale. So make this, enjoy and go buy her cookbook!

Today, I made the Quinoa Black Bean Salad. It rocked my world.

Cook the quinoa according to directions.

In a large bowl, combine:

1 can black beans, washed and rinsed
2 green onions, chpd
1 tomato, chpd
1 celery stalk, chpd
1/4 small green pepper, chpd
1 avocado, cubed
1/4 cup cilantro, finely chopped

In a small bowl, stir together:

1 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp flax oil
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1/4 tsp chili powder
1/4 tsp sea salt
1/4 tsp ground black peppre

Once quinoa is done, remove from heat and stir in

1/4 cup corn niblets (because niblet is such a great word. Say it. Niblet. Tee hee)

Let it sit, covered for about 5-10 minutes. Add the quinoa and dressing to the salad and toss it. Refrigerate it for about an hour.

If you need to take something to a pot-luck, this is a good 'un. It's easy and if you're the only vegan, and it'll probably be the only thing you can eat.

And now...the miss:

I love dessert. Which is a problem when you're supposed to stay away from refined sugar and dairy. So...any way I find to enjoy the sweet things is a good thing!

I made "Chocolate Pudding" today. I won't credit it because it was crap. "Dairy-free chocolate pudding?" I asked suspiciously? "Well, let's try it! I'm sure it's fabulous!" I blended the tofu, frozen banana, vanilla and melted the chocolate. I chilled it in wine glasses in the fridge. I waited hours for this special treat. .... People, this is vile. Even the dog doesn't want it, and he eats pens.

Operation Basement Storm 1

2010-06-10T12:32:00.000-07:00

Renovating is like riding a horse.

It's bigger than you and it can kill you.

First, we had to empty our basement Man, we have a lot of stuff. After five years of begging Husband to get rid of his refrigerator-size box of random wood pieces, he finally conceded that he did not, in fact need any of it. YES! I really want him to reach the same conclusion about the giant and COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY USELESS table saw. If we were 'handy' people, it would make sense. But since hanging a picture is at the very edge of my 'handy' skill set, it's a spectacular waste of space. Not that I have a strong opinion or anything.

We had to make a pact that we would not fight during this process. My dad went completely off the rails of appropriate and helpful advice when he solemnly declared, "People who renovate get divorced,". Thanks, Dad. Noted. So it freaked me out and Husband and I made a 'pact'. Tequila might have been involved.

But it was all kind of surreal. I knew there was a gaping hole downstairs and it looked like an earthquake had struck, but I mostly held back in utter denial that there was any chaos at all.

The first casualty of the reno, was the washer and dryer. I suddenly realized that the pile of laundry upstairs wasn't going to get done any time soon. That's was the exact moment when this shit got real.

Grateful as I am to have indoor plumbing, drainage is an issue. So, for the moment, we have a moat around our house, which with the amount of rain here, is filling up. There's a security measure I hadn't considered. Maybe we'll get cheaper home insurance if we have a freaking moat around our place. All I need is a drawbridge.

Alliteration for the Fun of It

2010-06-08T20:27:00.001-07:00

Hey YOU! Yeah YOU! Over here! Check it out! It may not be bigger or better...and it might even be bothersome, but in the interest of alliteration...it's BACK!

There is much to say.

We started Operation Basement Storm
The Little Girl got Christened.
I booked a flight to England.
The trip got cancelled.
The trip got put back on again.
Confusion is my natural state.

I am so happy that this blog is back up and running.

something to say

2010-05-19T21:32:00.000-07:00

I am totally obsessed with Post It notes. No idea why. Just am.

I'm angry with the Murad skin care company because they're stalking me and my credit card.

And I have absolutely nothing of value to say. But I figure I still better say something because the internet is filled with so much useful information that I needed to tip the scales at the pointless.

Done.

One and counting...

2010-05-11T15:11:00.000-07:00

I swear I'm not link-baiting.

I really don't think anyone other than a handful of friends read this blog. But, clearly I have offended an anonymous Marxist!

People, calm down. Che Guevara did some good stuff and some really really bad stuff. His theories might have been good, but you can't call someone who orchestrated the murder of thousands of people a 'hero'. We have another word for that: "sociopath".

What's scary is a sociopath with followers.

Had to add this...

2010-05-10T22:05:00.000-07:00

How many Marxists can you offend in a blog post?

2010-05-10T17:41:00.000-07:00

Haven't been writing because I've been having epiphanies.

I've been eating vegan. Awesome. (Or as the Big Girl would write, "osom"). Body responded happily. Until I took just a leeeetle too much sugar and Viva la Revolucion!

Here is my epiphany/wikipedia page:

Che Guevara was reincarnated as my pancreas. Since the X-ray, his stylized form (that of a tongue - eew) has become a ubiquitous intestinal symbol and personal insignia of revolt.

As a healthy young organ, Che was transformed by the endemic crap that he had to process. His experiences led him to conclude that the lower G.I. tract's imbalances were an intrinsic result of french fries, with the only remedy being complete and total revolution.

Following the Christmas Revolution 0f 2008, Che performed a number of key roles in the new regime: reviewing all incoming foods and hiring firing squads for anything he deemed offensive.

It totally makes sense. I did live in Bolivia for a few years, you know.

If only there was a way to work in a Bay of Pigs invasion...

Habits

2010-04-23T16:40:00.001-07:00

I am a work in progress. Aren't we all? Whoever thinks she's done, is probably delusional or dead.

I'm very interested in self-improvement. This is largely because I have so many things to improve.

One of them is my habits. I've learned that what we do, everyday, is pretty much who we are. I have occasional glimpses of myself living my life and I stop and think, 'Is this my big plan? Am I living my ideal life?" Sometimes, when I think, "Yes," I feel a bit scared.

It's a terrifying thought that all your dreams may well have come true.

Reflect on that.

You're always dreaming of more - and that's good. But you've also got to appreciate the here and now. So I'm going to start a new habit.

I encourage you to join me and see what happens.

For the next month, at the end of each day, write down two things that you did that day that were good. Like, I picked up garbage on the street. Or I did not shout at anyone. (tee hee)

For the master class, add on five good things that other people did today.

I bet if we keep this up we'll be nirvana-ish by the end of May.

Go on. Try it!

Au Naturel

2010-04-20T16:54:00.001-07:00

Being a fly on the wall in my house....

...is a pretty safe bet, because I don't swat. Unless it's 2am and you're buzzing and bothering me, then look out.

But being a fly on the wall in my house is often entertaining.

When our children were smaller, Husband would willingly bathe with them...until their curiosity peaked. Not having one of these curious appendages themselves, they were quite fascinated by the testicular region of their father. I didn't realize this until I saw him hop into the bath with them...wearing his bathing suit.

After I stopped laughing, I went on my big, "It's natural and let's model a self-acceptance and love of our bodies to our children" blah blah blah-osophy.

Until today.

"Mummy - why is your bum so jiggly?"

Naturalness be damned. I'm bathing alone.

A Conversation

2010-04-17T16:43:00.000-07:00

ME: I really want to tell you something but it's fully within the realm of T.M.I.*

HUSBAND: It's about a bowel movement, isn't it?

ME: YES!

HUSBAND: I don't know which is more disturbing: the fact that you actually want to tell me this, or the fact that I knew what you would want to tell me.

ME: That is kind of weird.

HUSBAND: I don't want to know.

ME: Please?

HUSBAND: No.

ME: I poop four times a day.

HUSBAND: ............................

My mum always said a lady retains some mystery about herself. She also never liked my jokes about the Queen taking a shit.

Oops. But seriously, Mum - if you were newly on the vegan diet, you'd understand why I want to high five people after a trip to the loo.

*Too Much Information

Rockin' the Weird Shit

2010-04-14T16:25:00.001-07:00

To most people I know, a vegan diet is hippy dippy at best - radically bizarre and cultish at worst. At work this week, someone asked what I was eating. When I told him, he said, "Wow, you're really rockin' the weird shit these days,"

That is totally fine with me and it makes me laugh. Because most of the stuff I eat these days - I'd never heard of just a few months ago. I like it when people ask because I'm totally proud of myself for

a) finding dulse
b) figuring out what the hell it is
c) eating it

What does bug me is the constant: How do you get your protein?

Please allow me to set the record straight here: protein is found in a lot more things than just animal products. Tofu, tempeh, seitan, beans and legumes - to name a few. Remember that a small, 400 pound gorilla doesn't eat hamburgers. He eats grass and possibly a few bugs by accident or out of curiosity. Since I'm guessing a gorilla could beat you in an arm-wrestling competition, animal protein isn't going to make you strong. Nor is it something that you have to have in order to be healthy. It's quite the opposite from my research.

Here's why I care about protein: When we get too much protein, as we often do in an animal-based diet, our liver and kidneys get pooped trying to eliminate it. Their super-power is detoxification, and when you're irritating an organ that is responsible for keeping you toxin-free, you're playing with fire. Since my personal experience of this is Respect Ye The Detoxing Organs Lest They Fuck You Up. And they can. Believe me.

Richard Dawkins: Brilliant Writer or Pretentious Git?

2010-04-13T15:59:00.000-07:00

The major anti-Papal media frenzy requires us to remember that Reuters is still pretty much a game of Telephone.

If the Pope really is saying things as stupid as he's reported to have said, like that the allegations of covered-up child-abuse are petty gossip or that it's all the Jews' fault, then wow, he's fully insane. And all we can hope for is that a consistent round of medication will bring him back to reality. But there's always the chance that he didn't really say that. I'm just saying...it's possible.

Nevertheless, it's led a few people to incorrectly cite the High Priest of Fundamentalist Atheism, Richard Dawkins, as the rogue intent on arresting the Pope for crimes against humanity. Now that would be entertaining, wouldn't it? Dawkins claimed that he never said that so here again, we have the radical media machine of hyperbole and misinformation whose sole purpose is to cause people to spazz out.

Mission accomplished.

Richard Dawkins: he's a great writer. But he's also a pretentious git.

I'm tempted to call him a “militant atheist” but since he hasn't beheaded someone, or flown a plane into a building, that hardly applies. He's just a dude who is extremely opinionated about a very touchy subject. I wouldn't like to have tea with him because he seems like such a sourpuss and willingly having tea with a sourpuss is CRAZY. Likewise, I would like to have tea with the Pope so I can find out what he puts in it; is he naturally loopy or is someone slipping him regular doses of lithium? Watching that would be AWESOME. But being there while Richard Dawkins had tea with the Pope would be CRAZY AWESOME!

I read The God Delusion. Meh. Too scientific for me. Dawkins makes valid arguments but it didn't change my life. In fact I got a bit tired of his angry rhetoric. Not everyone who believes is going to go all jihad on your ass or sacrifice a goat. Maybe they're just going to go to church or pray. This doesn't make that person a moron. Prayer is the most ancient form of meditation and if you want to be scientific about it, it's probably really good for you (calms the mind and body unless you're praying for death and destruction - I'm assuming this applies for kind prayers).

I pray. I go to church. That doesn't make me a better person than you. It makes me a person who doesn't have as much time for breakfast on Sunday. There I've said it. I've been doing it for a long time. I've hid it from people for a long time because they subscribe to the mindset that "religious belief is the most pernicious form of self-deluding mental illness to inflict the human race."

Okay. I don't care.

I've always been somewhat religious. In university I had a real crisis of faith because I questioned everything. I went to talk to the priest at my church because I was agonized over it all. He smoothed my ruffled feathers by saying, "Faith is being okay without answers". It took me a long time to be "okay without answers". The turning point for me was my mother's death. I was there, and held her hand as she took her last breath. It was the holiest moment of my life. When her spirit left her body I knew that I didn't need answers. I just knew.

How superior of us to think that we are entitled to know and understand all the secrets of the universe?

Girly McGirlicuddy

2010-04-11T15:35:00.000-07:00

This post is for girls who enjoy being girls. So here goes: I've discovered something and I have to share.

First of all is a simple thing: MAC's new nail polish in Vestral White. It's instant chicness and so different from what you would expect that it's refreshingly modern. It reminds me of when we used to paint our nails with Liquid Paper/White Out and it looked awful. This is better. Maybe it's because I love everything white, but nail polish too? That is awesome.

The second thing is this: a busted hairdryer is the best thing that ever happened to my hair. After a brief panic, I let it do its thing and then tried some hair oiling for good measure. Twisting it up while it air dries gives me smooth waves. And the lack of heat styling can only be good for the hair long term, so that when I do acquire a functioning blow-dryer, the hair will hopefully behave that much better. I may never use one now though...People keep telling me that my hair looks great. That, and the fact that it buys me an extra twenty minutes in bed in the morning is all I need to keep doing this.

The third thing is this blog. It's my personal source of inspiration. Shopping if so much more fun now because I can see how to pair this with that and a little of that and I've got myself a fantastic outfit. Mind you, I drool a little for her shoes and bags - they're often from Coach, which means, they cost roughly the same as a decent second-hand car. But still, she's got a great eye and points me toward things I'd never have considered before. LOVE that. The fashion evolution is on.

It's Time for Husband to Come Home

2010-04-08T20:34:00.001-07:00

For those of you who know me well, you know that I enjoy all the benefits of a husband without an actual husband present. Okay, maybe not ALL the benefits. Yeah, those would be nice. As would someone else taking the garbage out. But still, I manage when he's in South America or Australia or Kyrgystan.

But really, the single parenting thing has me going to bed not long after the children actually do. And when it takes me an hour to get them into said bed, it's understandable. Especially after the swimming lessons that involved a three-year-old needing to pee twice during a 30 min lesson.

After the ninth reminder that LIGHTS ARE OFF, I become increasingly less gentle. I finally get them settled. It's quiet for 30 seconds, I let out a breath. Then...

"Mummy?"

Sigh.

"Yes?"

"I can't find my blue eraser!"

'WHY DO YOU NEED A BLUE ERASER!? YOU'RE IN BED, YOU'RE GOING TO SLEEP, WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY NEED TO ERASE!?"

"It's my phone."

I give up.

Eat it

2010-04-05T10:58:00.000-07:00

After a year of feeling and being sick, the light has appeared!

Here is a list of what I'm no longer able to eat:

a=alcohol
b= beef
c = caffeine, citrus, cucumber
d = dairy (every. single. kind.)
e = eggs
g = garlic
j = junk food (if it's in a vending machine, I can't eat it)
n= nightshade vegetables
p= pork
s= sugar (including white bread, white rice, white pasta)

Yowzah. Last year I spent a lot of time in doctors' offices being told, "Just be smart about what you eat," but since I wasn't particularly, I suffered. I have probably financed a new wing of Church & Dwight and spent a good part of the year asleep.

Things didn't start to turn around until I finally saw a holistic nutritionist. I went in with all my "This is stupid - she's not a doctor" armour and walked out with Useful Information.

I went off dairy and life was infinitely better. Not believing it could really be a dairy allergy, I had some cheese. This was a Very Bad Idea. I'll spare you the details.

Another turn came this past February when I visited my amazing friends in Toronto. C took me to a restaurant called Fresh. She said, "You'll be able to eat everything here," and she was right. Moreover, I had a vegan cupcake there and I was okay! Better than okay - I was excited that there may be a workable food plan for me out there. C very sweetly bought me the cookbook from this vegan restaurant...

It all started with one cookbook. Now I have three. They are all vegan. I guess I'm vegan.

I'm not sure I am cool with the label thing. I'd like to say I'm going vegan because I feel for the poor little piggies, and I do, but bacon is freaking awesome. Come on. It IS!!! And ice cream? Well, that's practically therapy in a bowl right there.

But it's okay if I don't have a conscience because my G.I. tract is a pretentious jerk, a member of the radical wing of PETA, and is always asking if she can chain herself up and protest.

My goal is to keep her happy.

And that's how it all vegan.

Wanted: April Fool's Revenge Prank

2010-03-25T14:37:00.000-07:00

I get punk'd a lot at work. Apparently it's easy to get me to believe stuff - I am naturally a trusting person and I am NEW at this place so there you go: easy target. But when nine people in a row have all said, "Is it true you're getting fired?" you know you're dealing with hard-core pranksters.

But next Thursday is April Fool's Day.

And vengeance will be mine!

If I can think of anything decent.

Help....

Bruce Warner: Paralympian and All Kinds of Awesome

2010-03-21T15:29:00.000-07:00

This is Bruce Warner. He is all kinds of awesome. Not only can he rip up a mountain-side better than most people, but he does it on one leg. One. Leg.

Bruce is one of those natural athletes and takes to sports in the way that dog hair takes to cashmere sweaters. No, that sounds bad. He takes to sports in the way that a duck takes to water. Unless the duck is one of those weirdo ducks that for some reason prefers an arid climate. I have now firmly established that introductions are not my forte.

But worshipful descriptions I can do! Especially if it's of someone I actually know. I am married to Bruce's cousin! That means that there is some kind of greatness gene in my children! Yay! Thanks Bruce! But that's not the point: the point is that our family had the amazing good fortune to be directly touched by the wonderful inspiration that is the Paralympics.

At opening ceremonies last week, we sat in a small crowd of South African flag-waving family. His mother was among our crew. Her pride ran down her cheeks in the most stirring moment of all: she watched her son doing something amazing: he walked - which he didn't know he'd ever do after his accident, but he WALKED while carrying his country's flag.

Paralympians humble and motivate me. It's a good reminder when, because I'm only 5'2 and everyone at work always hides my coffee mug on the top shelf, I feel sorry for myself until I remember that I have two legs - short as they may well be.

Best of all, Bruce is very open to talking about his accident and his prosthetic leg. He even lets the Big Girl step on his foot because she's so in awe that she can do that and IT DOESN'T HURT!
I never thought that this would be a really cool part of having a fake leg, but children point these things out to you.

She's taking him to her school for Show & Tell. He is the very definition of a Good Sport!

Here's what happened: as a teenager, Bruce was in a car accident that shattered his femur. With an injury like that, the only option was full amputation. The breath-taking innovation of prosthetic medicine enabled him to walk again on a bionic-looking leg - one which he takes on and off whenever. We're quite accustomed to his unipod state that it made for an amusing moment before our wedding. He had it off when he was helping us set up. He was inside. My friend from Toronto had just arrived outside. I said, "You should go in and meet Bruce. He's terrific." In she went. Twenty minutes later she came back out and said, "Nice fellow. Could have warned me about the leg."

Bruce's journey to the paralympics began in Washington state where he was fitted for the aforementioned leg. Since he was so close to Vancouver, Husband's family drove down to fetch him there and took him....skiing in Whistler. He took to it like...well, we've established that is was better than dog hair on a sweater. He trained. And trained. And qualified for Nagano, then Turino and finally...full circle: in Whistler in 2010. Along the way, he met and married a delightful lady from the IOC and their son just turned one. He had his first birthday party in Whistler as his father made a world record in awesomeness.

He told me once about the phenomenon of "phantom pains" reminding us all that we can mourn for what's lost or we could see that pain as a reminder to move on, keep going, stronger, higher and faster.

Thank you for being you Bruce. We are all so proud of you.