coochy-coo!

The two Bridget's and I - Wait...I should explain. 2 of my good friends, (I almost used the word 'mate') are from the UK and Australia. These two chicks keep me sane and laughing every day, and without them I'd most definitely be under my desk in convulsions for most of the work week. Their nicknames are plentiful, however after some recent, rather funny episodes, they are now appropriately known as Bridget Brit and Bridget Oz, after the adoring, loving, clumsy and absolutely hysterical Bridget Jones, who I think we can all relate to on one level.

So...back to my little story here.

The two Bridgets and I decided to take 5 and run downstairs to Starbucks for afternoon tea...a.k.a. Peppermint-Mocha-Frappa-UltraViolet-Latte's a-la non-fat Grande Whatever-the-fuck the Starbucks Special of the month is these days. Truly, a simple excuse to hop out of office for a minute or two. We stood in line gabbing away about the branch meeting that we had just sat through, that's right, 4 hours people, as we vented and discussed the most ridiculous ways to "add value" to our business. One of the most overused sales terms out there. And yes, I use it ALL the time.

I grabbed my hot drink off the bar and snapped the lid on while Bridget Brit went on about random office ridicule and Bridget Oz spoke animatedly about this person, and that situation. In the millisecond that passed, Bridget Oz flipped her hand and knocked the lid off my cup, inadvertently also 'cupping my cooch' on the way. You can imagine the shrills of laughter from all three of us as we tried to gather enough composure to get me a new lid and get the hell out of the establishment. Through tears of laughter, Bridget Brit recalled a time not so long ago where she inadvertently cupped my 'left one' while trying to brace herself from a fall due to an 'awkward high-heel mishap with a grate on a street in Calgary'. (What am I a tree?)

Bridget Oz turned to us through tears of laughter and confessed: Don't think I am mortified because of my actions girls, I'm mortified because I have never heard the word COOCH!

Ah...the joys of being friends with foreigners.

More on the pineapple

Ok this is not a funny joke. Sitting on wet hot ass bus on Friday in teaming rainfilled fresh-water deprived city that is supposedly on the map to be one of the best places in the world to live. Middle-aged lady turns to dude in front of her and says: "Hey...we're riding the pineapple express in the pinepple express."
Dumb...so dumb...

Polka-Roo Yoga Guy discovered!

At last! I found Polka-Roo Yoga Guy! Let me explain...

2 years ago I moved to Vancouver. 2 years ago I had my last yoga class with Shanti. 2 years ago I hoped to meet Shanti's referral Polka-Roo Yoga Guy in my new home town. Last night...I finally met him!

An urgent email popped up in my hotmail inbox from Shanti telling me she had once again found Polka-Roo Yoga Guy and to go check out his class. Eagerly, I googled him and saw that he was once again, teaching a class near my house on Tuesday's at 5:45. YES! I'm there!

The class was amazing. Full of energy and breath and flow and (oh man I sound like a yogi!) I worked and sweated my ass off! I'm a little rusty, sad to say, but I made it through every sun salutation, and didn't cheat once in transition from upward to downward dog!

After class I went up to P-RYG and said: "Hi, I've been looking for you for 2 years! My names is Dings and Shanti sent me...!" He smiled and started to remenisce about Shanti (he says you're a little power house!!) I thanked him for such a great class and promised to see him again next week.

So...Thank you Shanti for your email and for your inspiration. I hope someday the 'originals' can all meet again and do a class...it was such an amazing experience and one that I miss tremendously.

om shanti!

am i HIP?

By no means am I a trend setter. I didn't chop and bleach my hair in the platinum phase of the late 90's, I don't have a Luis Vuitton handbag, immitation or the real deal, I never had a Beaver Canoe sweatshirt and I never pinned my pants. Ok lies, I pinned my pants in 1988 and it was horrible!

In my early childhood I was exposed to a rather narrow scope of music. My Father, who has varying educational degrees, studied classical music at U of T, his instrument was the flute and he played it beautifully. He is the biggest classical influence in my life, to this day, and so it was natural that this is what was mostly heard in our household growing up. With the notes of Johann and Amadeus also came jazz and the syncopated rhythm's of George Gershwin, Jimmy Van Heusen and Oscar Peterson. The smooth saxophone tones of Stan Getz, the manipulated keys of Jacques Loussier, the soothing vocals of Ella, the queen. I guess I should clarify, when I say 'narrow' I suppose I really mean narrow in genre, as the world of classical and jazz are two in it's own. We had a limited variety of rock as well, if you consider Barbara Streisand, Barry Manilow and Johnny Mathis ROCK. But also, and these were cottage staples, we had Willie Nelson, ABBA and SuperTramp. That was pretty much it for the non-classical stuff. And in my early world, that was just fine.

However, it started to dawn on me, in about grade 4, that there was more to life then Chopin and Charlie Bird. There were more radio stations on the dial then CJRT. There was more to life then CBC. Something called...music videos? This notion hit me like a ton of bricks one day after school when a girlfriend and I were flipping through tv channels: Scooby Doo, Three's Company, Inspector Gadget...Chum FM 30 minute countdown...What the heck is this?

I lost my music video virginity to Corey Hart's Sunglasses at Night. I was in love. He was hot. He wore sunglasses at NIGHT! And like a dam bursting open, all of a sudden I was introduced to POP! Madonna, True Blue, Michael Jackson, Beat It, Cindy Lauper, Time after Time...

As I grew, as WE grew as a POP culture nation, I stayed tuned in. But still, I was never the girl to run out and buy the first latest HIT. I simply relied on others in whatever 'group' I was hanging out with, to keep me in the loop. Strange, I think it now, as I am such a music lover. All kinds of music, with the exception of 'death metal'. (I don't get it.)

One summer, after highschool, maybe even after University it's all a bit of a blur, I was lounging on a doc up at a cottage near Bobcaygeon and on came a song with the lyrics I'll never forget:

I left your house this morning about a quarter after nine
Coulda been the Willie Nelson coulda been the wine
When I left your house this morning
It was a little after nine
It was in Bobcaygeon I saw the constellations
Reveal themselves one star at a time...

"Who the hell is this?" I asked...
"The Hip Dings...where the hell have you been?"
"The Hip?...The Tragically Hip?"
"Yeah Dings..."
"hmm.....I like them..."

And so I was proudly able to add them to my repertoire of music I considered to be good, cool, hip and Canadian.

But it wasn't until I met my husband that I really started to love the twang of Gord Downie's unmistakable vocals. My husband, similar to my Father's influence in this regard (relax fellow-Freudians!) is also a major musical influence in my life. I soon began to hear music with more openness then before. I was widening my scope once again.

Last week, I was lucky enough to see the HIP in concert on their latest tour at the Commodore in Vancouver. And although mildly disappointed that they didn't play Bobcaygeon, the concert was amazing. Who knew I had a little alternative rock in me? The venue, a favourite to any Vancouverite, is a stand-only bar with a wooden dance floor that would probably be the only thing west of Alberta to withstand 'the big one'. Halfway through the concert, I stopped and stood still in the middle of the crowd, heavy with lingering pot smoke and beer. Surrounded by 20 and 30 somethings with blurry eyes and gleaming smiles they intoxicated me as they chanted the lyrics along with the band. And as I stood there, taking it all in, a thought crossed my mind...am i HIP yet?

Ok, so clearly I was totally stoned, but you get my point.

chin up sister

I woke up this morning absolutely and thoroughly depressed. It was raining ass cats and dogs outside and the only thing in the world I wanted to do was roll over and go back to bed and wake up in Toronto with everything the way it used to be. Everything, of course, accept my husband and dog who I wouldn't trade in for the world. These two beings are the two reasons why I am still IN this damn city. And yes...I continue to vent the pros and cons of westcoast life. I digress. I'm venting here and I can say what I want, no matter how irrational and mean it is.

In and amongst my internal pouting session, the Huzb rolled over and said: "Do you want coffee?". OH I LOVE HIM!!!!! "Yesss...but I'm off coffee remember" I moaned, (maybe this is part of my problem) as the lil'pup jumped up on the bed and rolled onto my head. Nothing like an 80 pound lab to remind you how fragile your head can actually be! With the aroma of coffee brewing I hauled my ass out of bed and the three of us headed to the park in the rain for an hour's play session for you-know-who. On the way back, soaked and utterly stuck in my mood, I said: "fuck this...i'm going to the gym". I loaded up my MP3, packed my shit and hopped in the car. I knew I'd feel better if I could just go sweat for an hour.

Eager with this new rational thought, I wandered into the changeroom, got into my gear and threw my soaked raincoat and shoes into the closest locker. Remarkably, I managed a 25 minute run on the treadmill with ease, did some upper arm reps and a few hundred abs. Abs...yeah...always the first to go when falling out of gym routine. Let's hear it for JT and Christina to get me through the pain! On my way back to the changeroom, feeling much better, I noticed a man speaking to me. I pulled out one of my earphones and said: "Pardon me?". "You're eyebrows...they really suit your face...they are just stunning!" He smiled and walked away. I stood there for a moment, stunned, then thought to myself: what a nice man. He has no idea he has just made my day.

As I walked into the changeroom, dreading changing back into wet raincoat and shoes, I thought chin up sister, it ain't all that bad. Laughing to myself as I realized what a sucker I am for innocent compliments!

Pineapple Express

It's official. The fucking rain is here.

"A one-day pineapple express has soaked the southern bc coast. 50 to 175mm of rain has drenched the area since the rain began Sunday afternoon. An additional 10 to 20 mm is possible before the rain eases tonight."

definition: The Pineapple Express is a Pacific Ocean subtropical jet stream that brings warm moist air from Hawaii (where pineapples are grown) to the U.S. West Coast states of California, Oregon, Washington, Alaska, as well as the Canadian province of British Columbia.

Madden-Julian oscillation drives Pineapple Express.The conditions are often created by the Madden-Julian oscillation, an equatorial rainfall pattern which feeds its moisture into this pattern.

...and I thought they were just a good diuretic...who knew?

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!