The Cover Up

So,
as you know, I play recreational dodgeball on Wednesday nights at some school I have never heard of that is always dirty and smells like dirty children.

If you know me, you would know that any team willing to accept me as a member is just for fun-plus, the obvious, it's dodgeball. Your skill level necessity for dodgeball is basically that you can stand and hold a ball- not exactly the sport of the gods- know what I mean?

So we play on this league and I'm not sure if this was on the pre-requisite form but majority of the guys we play against have seriously small dicks.

It isn't a naked league so you may wonder how I know so much about my oppositions penis size. Simple. When it walks like a dick and talks like a dick and looks like a dick, it is a small one.

I knew we were in for some trouble last night when we walked in to see our opposition getting their team T-Shirts. So, the T shirts are absolutely standard if not big- like I got a Medium and it is a men's medium size. So the biggest of the douches goes "man, i hate new T shirts, so hard for my arms to fit in"

OOOOOKKKKKK buddy. (and to note- although he was quite large- those "bulging" biceps he boasted were much less than impressive and much more than able to fit in his stupid T Shirt)

Anyways. game begins and as usual both teams begin chirping at one another. I think that the shit talk makes the game really fun. I love getting mouthy on the court (since I suck at everything else) HOWEVER- the past 2 teams we have played with have really crossed the line.

What is going on with todays boys? It really must suck to have a less than average size in your pants but no need to take it out on your female opponents. We didn't cut off half of what would be an average dick did we? Not our fucking faults.

So the guys start shit talking all the girls and shit gets out of control and my team ends up walking out of the game after almost getting into a physical fight with them. Because, you know what, NOT WORTH IT. I'm going to go ahead and say that any guy who bullies girls has obvious problems and punching them in their stupid faces really won't help matters any.

Hey guys, you can still get some with your eeny weenys- you just have to go the nice guy route. Like a Hummer driving mofo, you disgusting attitude isn't helping your cause any and is in fact showcasing your issues like an XRay machine.

Mouth off to me again and I will fucking pants you.

The End.

Bless You

So, as flu season inches closer- or is it here? I never know... I find myself increasingly perturbed by the freaks on the subway, in the office and in life who seem like virus carrying germ infested orbs just waiting to release their mass destruction onto my precious body.

Do you know how many people do grossly unhygenic things around me? And forget the usual not washing hands after bathroom nonsense- no, I am talking full out pick your nose and touch a door handle or cough withour even trying to cover your mouth.

I may be ulta paranoid but gross is gross people.

So, imagine my utter disgust when yesterday, aboard the SuperSubway (and PS. Fuck you SuperSubway. You are a terrible subway that somehow causes people to behave even worse than usual) I encountered the biggest perp of them all.

So we are all crammed in like cattle to slaughter- actually, totally crammed, not able to move an inch around you with some fat bitch screaming for everyone to pack in a little tighter so she can get in- or you can stop yelling at everyone and just fucking wait for the next car like a normal human being- either or.

Anyways, I am lodged between a woman who is making idle chatter and a bald hairy man who is housing my face in his armpit- unable to move or even breath for fear that I wont have the room to properly expand my lungs and dude sneezes, without covering his mouth, onto my face.

Now, I have seen my fair share of gross crap- this, the grossest. and so........

Dear sir,
Thank you so very much for sneezing on my face aboard the 5:15 Northbound ride home on the subway. You may not remember me as I spent the majority of the trip in your armpit (which was a welcome refuge from your fucking sneeze but otherwise a less than pleasant place to reside for my 10 minute commute).
Perhaps you have never heard of the way colds and diseases spread but I would say that other than you french kissing me right there and then, you basically did the next best thing to transmit your cold. Why would you do that? Do you watch TV sir? Don't you know the flu commercials? Moreover, you went to school for at least a bit right? Did you never learn to cover your nose and mouth?
In case you are the very unique and special case who happened to not receive an education or have a parent or elder person to help you out with basic human interactions- don't sneeze on people. It is beyond disgusting.
If I get a cold I will directly blame you and curse you in my head. will you ever feel effect of said cursing- maybe, if I am indeed part witch as I have sometimes suspected- more likely, no- but if I ever see you again, I horking into your mouth.

The End.

Love and Marriage.

So it has been a while- so sorry. Life has this way of really grabbing hold of you and making your time pass without warning.

And so, with that, I find myself on the cusp of getting married in but a few weeks.
I remember when the calendar showed 3 months away I was floored- now, it is a handful of days until I become a Mrs.

This has been a really wonderful time for me. I certainly have loved all the love I felt from all those around me and of course, I get to marry my bestie. After 4 and a bit years together it is hard to believe that I can still wake up and feel more in love- but such is the nature of a really great union. And 4 years has afforded us the time to really get to know each other and develop this very real and very meaningful thing.

That withstanding, I am delighted to be finishing this year where I have spoken about my wedding more than any other thing in the world.

Again, I must really emphasize how fun it all was- I loved planning this day and making it really important.

But seriously, one more conversation about cake or candles and I will seriously kill myself.

Having never really been the type of girl who dreamed of her fairy tale wedding all her pink filled pony playing with days, I was really taken aback by this obsession with "the wedding"- but I, like most brides to be, found myself suddenly plagued with fear that the deep eggplant florals I had chosen might just not go perfectly with the cream colors on the doors of the reception hall- and then I found myself spending sleepless nights weighing the pros and cons of registering for a Kitchenaid stand mixer or the Artisan mixer- and then I realized that I was deep deep in big time loserville and that if I donated but one more microsecond to the merits of fine china, I would have disown myself (can you do that?)

The amount of time/ energy exerted by myself and like- brides would blow your fucking mind. I'm sure if you bottled this ever growing momentum in feelings, you could power a large country. Think I am over exaggerating the point? Try debating photographers and which photo package to purchase with a soon to be married person- you would probably never guess that such a mundane and ridiculous thing could occupy 4 hours of conversation....

Anywho- alls I can say is that I actually forget what I spoke about before getting engaged and I imagine this is close to how you feel after having a baby and being off work and away from adults- then you come back and go into shell shock from not spending your days imitating sesame street characters (ug, do kids still watch Sesame Street? Do babies watch TV? Am I a horrible parent already without a child?)

My advice- marry the man/woman that you love- and elope.

the end.

ps. So excited to get married, just had to repeat that- and will likely go into wedding withdrawal once it is over- just watch. the grass is always greener.

Halloweeny

So, seriously obsessed with Halloween, like, super mega into it. Did I dream of a Halloween wedding?
Yes, maybe I did (although I didn't get my wish- but in hindsight maybe for the best? Don't know that my elder relatives would love spider centerpieces- le sigh).

Anywho, as a runner up prize, all my girlfriends put together a stagette for me on Halloween weekend. It is a surprise so I don't have much (know much) to say about it BUT we are all dressing as zombies- I get to be zombie bride!!!!!!

So this past weekend I kicked off my Halloween month in style with my costume shop. Hell-a-fun.

Dear Value Village. You are so great. 1 stop shop for everything I needed plus some fabulous finds that don't have to do with Halloween (I'm looking at you amazing beaded top). I found the most skankalicious and amazing costume evah. I think it was called "mummy ballerina" and was in the kids section- well, kids costumes are amazing for someone like me who is just looking to barely squeeze into some kind of getup. DONE. Got a zombie wig, fake blood and a truckload of makeup and voila- I am zombie bride.

The best was that a few friends came with me and picked out pseudo zombie bridesmaids costumes! How cute will we be in our matching wigs of terror and tutus (they got themselves red and black ones). I am SO SO SO excited for this.

But aside from that weekend, there is more Halloween to be celebrated. Truly no season is complete without Canada's Wonderland Halloween Haunt. So, I love this place for 3 fundamental reasons.
First. I am a ride warrior. Enough said.
Second. You get to ride all the rides AND they have really amazing haunted houses to play in- double whammy!
Third. This place holds a pretty special significance for my fiance and I- This was one of our first dates back 4 years ago. It was the best. I totally fell in love with him that night. When he shoved me into the man roaming the park with a mask on carrying a chainsaw and laughed while he ran away- I knew he was the one. It's the little things.

Anywho- you should go. But don't go this weekend because we don't need the extra crowd.

So ya, Halloween. Love that shit.

I spy with my little eye something that is pie.

What is more depressing than waking up to the rain and dark grey skies?

So it is Friday- yeehaw. I wish it was a sunny Friday but beggars can't be choosers.

So I am on this new "meal plan". Getting married in almost 1 month from now- crazy right? and my most wonderful trainer and friend has got me on a strict regimen- and one that i have surprisingly not broken yet (less some tootsie rolls- but they hardly count right?)
So along with working out every single day including 4 days of weights and 4 of cardio I must eat a shit ton of meat and protien.

Yes, I am now that girl who has protein shakes. I really do. They are so raunch.

BUT, when you eat chicken at every meal 5 times a day, you are forced to be a bit creative and after 1 week of breasts baked by my finace, I decided that if I am going to last the next bunch of weeks it is time to get creative and cooking.

And so, with no recipe, no skills and a debilitating fear of raw meat I set out to make something with ground chicken (I always think ground meat is the way to go in terms of being easy)- so, I was left with the obvious choices- meatball, burger, taco....I chose Shepherds pie.

Damn shepherds pie, you remind me of childhood and camp all mixed up into one scrumptious memory topped with frozen peas.

I am just going to go ahead and say that I made the most delicious, and healthiest shepards pie in all the land- and usually I wouldn't use this forum to preach my recipes BUT this one is so F-ing good and when I say share a recipe- I just mean I'm going to tell you how I made it ish and you can take it from there.

Ok- ground chicken with some onion, garlic, cumin, oregano (or whatever you grab), blob of ketchup, bigger blob of dijon, frozen peas- or whatever.
The meat is really to your own liking, it was the topping that took the cake.
Pureed cauliflower instead of potato- which I am not allowed to eat- you would never fucking know that it wasn't potato- it is amazeballs. I could have easily eaten just the blender full of the mush. Truffle salt and pepper- cook for a bit and voila- BEST.MEAL.EVER.

Your ass will thank me later.

My- Grain

My apologize faithful readers but I was absent all week with a terrible ailment.
Migraines. Do you get them? They blow.
I have never in life had such a heinous experience as I did last Wednesday when my migraines raged leaving me barfing up the food I couldn't eat and eventually in the ER.

Now, first of all, migraines- my arch enemies. They leave me such a hot mess- and by hot mess I mean totally un-hot mess. On times that I don't end up violently ill- which was really unusual for me- I end up still quite pretarded looking.

There is some old European wives thing that you should tie a bendaleh (which is a fancy word for fabric ribbon) around your head super tight- this puts some good pressure onto your temples which are no doubt throbbing like little.... um... throbbing things?
This usually aids the pain but results in my having ribbon marks across my forehead for a good 24 hours after (my face really takes to creasing).

My next step is to drug myself. My fiance is the type who takes an Advil as the absolute last resort to pain in any given circumstance- I am they type who takes an Advil at breakfast should the mood strike me- will I end up with ulcers? Who knows. Anywho- I have this incredibly substantial pharmacy in my bathroom- anything that ails you, my bag of goodies can fix. and there are tricks that you can employ when dealing with a bad headache- such as, you can mix Tylenol and Advil into a really good pain fighting combi OR you can import the illegal-in-canada Excedrin (my best friend) which is a concoction of Tylenol, Asprin and caffeine- never underestimate the value of caffeine. OR, you can take any of the above with an actual migraine pill. Please don't report me to intervention.

Finally, I like to wrap a blanket around my face and shut down- this is perhaps the only times in my life that I achieve true serenity less the headache itself. No noise, no light, no people, no stimulus, nothing- just a dark room, deep breathing and prayer for relief.

Anyways, I implore you to share your experiences with headaches here with me. Maybe you can teach me something new in my fight against pain.

Remembering White Night.

So this year, unlike the years past filled with aimless wandering, Nuit Blanche had a purpose. That single mission: Food Trucks.
Our plan- get there on time, divide, conquer, eat and drink then begin aimless wandering.
Success rate- 10.

Here's the lowdown. I have a few friends who share my unnatural love of food that comes from vendors- in fact my partner in truck crime was also present to witness my face-shovelling at the Underground Food Market- she is the bomb.

So we agreed to meet at another friend's distillery condo and attack the food trucks for dinner.
So here's what we had;

We began at Cava and had some Chorizo Paella and some cod, bacon and avocado fritters- both were incredible- then we saw the mother ship- Gorilla Cheese. If you have cheese in your title, I want you and the super long line only made the trucks fare more enticing- people don't line up for crap now do they? ( well, yes, the technically do- but still). We got ourselves in line and then took turns perusing the neighbouring vendors spending our whole 20 minute line up shoving shit into our mouths.

We got Bacon Maple glazed doughnuts from Beast, our men brought us baby Chorizo dogs and tamales from an unnamed vendor- or perhaps it was named but the food coma was setting in, we got Peameal Bacon sandwiches from the line up beside us from some other truck, and a Wood burned pizza topped with meat and potatoes. Finally, after 20 minutes of waiting (read: eating) we decided that we would do the unthinkable and bud the line.

So shady, I know but drugged with grease and pork we were not thinking clearly and to cut in 3 people from the front of the Gorilla Cheese line was just too easy for our food manic minds. We did it. I will one day just let people bud me in a long line to balance karma.

Worth.It.

nom nom nom. This grilled cheese was the bomb- we got the OG, and original cheese and bread combi, a bacon and apple grilled cheese and a pesto and mozzarella grilled cheese. D-lish.

I unfortunately spent the whole rest of my night walking around like a pregnant woman clutching her belly and waddling down streets.

After a few more hours sharing drinks with our friends my fiance and I decided to break away from the group and go out on our own exploring. This was our best Nuit Blanche decision to date.

Every year we have a huge crew that we go out with, every year we spend the majority of the night rounding up said wicked crew and trying to move on without losing anyone....

Although the spectacle of trying to keep us all together and moving is worthy of an exhibition itself, it never yields in more than us giving up and getting way too drunk in lieu of the art we miss. Being alone with just him by my side made it possible to actually see things- and things were pretty cool.

We saw The Heart Machine- a pyros wet dream, the tennis match, Soon- my favorite as it felt like an apocalypse approaching, and a few more random exhibits as we walked from the distillery up to Yonge and Bloor.

Of course, as is every year, the true spectacle and the true "art" is watching hundreds of very different people come together and walk around in relative peace (although I read that a man got shot at Trinity Bellwoods so peace would certainly be relative) and enjoying their city.

I love shit like that.

Until next year.....