It's the most wonderful time of the year!!!

So I was catching up on my blog reading this evening and my good friend Scribe wrote a post about her Xmas wish list and I really liked it so I decided to copy it and share it with anyone who still comes to check out this blog.


1. MacBook Pro 15 inch - In 2010 it's out with the old and in with the new. I'm done with PC, I've had enough of Vista, IE and the general frustration and bull shit that comes with being a PC user. I've been drooling over this for a while now and while it's probably not an ideal time to spend that kind of money on a new computer. I'm determined that this beauty will be mine.


2. A new gym membership - My subscription expires on Jan 5 2010 and I'm really quite proud of myself because not only have I managed to go to the gym all year at least 2 or 3 times a week but I also managed to work out with a personal trainer as well for the same length of time. It was a sacrifice but I'm stronger, faster and better than I was one year ago.


3. 10 more sessions with my personal trainer in 2010 cause my new plan is to drop 20 pounds by March 2010. See wish list item #2

4. Success in my new venture - More details to follow on this later but I'm asking the angels for their help with this one. I know that I'm going to be wildly successful but I need to exercise a little patience and I'm not really known for my patience.

5. A new and bigger bed. I listened to Mr. C when we bought our last bed and bought a Queen size when we really needed a King. There's not enough room for us all in there - TJ has started sleeping on the bed again and he needs a double for him alone.

6. A new blackberry to help with Wish List #4

Then the usual peace on earth, goodwill to men, yada, yada, yada. What's on your wish list?

It's been a while Biatches but I'm baaaack

I needed some powerful motivation this morning to get up and out of bed :)

Lots of big changes happening in my neck of the woods but I gotta wait a few before I give you all an update. In the meantime.... I am back stronger, better, faster than before, kinda like Steve Austin.

Love Hurts!

I'm just going to preface this and say this work is fictional. When I read it in class people immediately thought I was writing about myself.

Enjoy! Mr. C didn't like it so I'm curious to know what your thoughts are...
*****************************************************************

You love me. You want to protect me and have a family with me. I am your world. When you look at me, you say your heart races. You love the soft, slightly husky sound of my voice and you tell me you feel safe when my arms are wrapped around you.


When you look at me, I look at your brow, jaw, nose and lips to tell me what kind of mood you’re in. I listen to the timbre and pitch of your voice for the sound of any discordant notes. When you put your arms around me, I am afraid.

You push me into furniture and walls, down stairs and through windows, draw blood and break bones. You encourage the lies to cover the bumps and bruises from those who could see the real you. You don’t love me. You want to possess me.

Private Dancer

This is a scene that I'm going to use in my book
************************************
She leaned against the bar, vodka mojito in hand, and looked out at the bridal party stuffing $5 bills down the male dancers’ g-string. Why on earth did I agree to come out with these girls tonight?


Since moving to Toronto 5 years ago, Vicky had completely reinvented herself. She’d lost 50 pounds, successfully established herself as a highly sought after freelance photographer, purchased a 1,400 square foot condo overlooking the lake, made a few friends and dated frequently. To her friends and family back home, she seemed to have it all.

She checked her watch and realized that if she left at that moment, she could make it to her condo with 10 minutes to spare before the opening montage of Saturday Night Live. As she looked up, the bridal party was hooting and hollering at the newest group of dancers making their way on stage so she picked up her handbag and left.

As she pushed her way through the crowds on the sidewalk on her way to the subway, one lone tear escaped but she quickly brushed it away. So she kept going - past the long line ups with the trendy people hoping to get into the clubs, past the patios with people spilling out onto the street and past the restaurants with happy couples sitting in the window.

Then, she saw him.

Spectators

Crunch punctures the white, foggy stillness.

Crackle calls the redolent treat from within.

I move though the veil towards her smile

A loud pop pierces the silence.

A furtive glance behind reveals

Silent ghostly spectators.

My heart gallops,

their ghostly aura remains

Unbroken, I am alone.

Pop, I hurry forward

Something cold touches me

I scream. They scamper. It falls.

As I run towards her now widening smile

I hear them ripping open their spoils.

Fashion maestro???

The first time I saw him, he was eating a bilious looking bowl of broad beans. I stood in the doorway and watched with abject fascination as three beans were fighting their way out of his mouth while he attempted to shovel another twenty or so in. He summoned me forward, set down the bowl, jumped up and started to careen towards me hand outstretched.

He had a wore a dingy white shirt that had a big, wet stain above the left breast pocket, his pockmarked glistening jowls hid the knot of his tie and his shirt cuffs were rolled halfway up hairy forearms. His wrinkled, grey pants were too tight and two inches too short and but, surprisingly showcased the intricate Navajo design of the buckles on his boots - beautifully.

I stepped forward extending my arm hopeful that, at least, I was going to make a good first impression. As my dry, soft hand touched his slippery one – I wondered - How on earth did this man – Andreas Morton - rise to the top of the world’s most illustrious fashion empire?

Looking for Inspiration

I wish that I could be so eloquent when I sit down to write my poem. So assignment #5 is going to be about poetry so I've been reading different styles and trying to find my own poetic voice. I recently read two poems that I thought I'd share. They are both by Maya Angelou and are profound in their simplicity

During the years when you knew nothing

And I knew everything, I loved you still

Condescendingly of course,

From my high perch

Of teenage wisdom.

I grew older and

was stunned to find.

How much knowledge you had gleaned,

And so quickly.

and then

During those earliest, dearest days

I did not dream that you had

A large life which included me,

For I had a life

Which was only you.

Dramaz!!!!!

They dimmed the lights, turned up the music and over 300 people began to converge on the dance floor. The perfect time for her to slip away. She was trying to make her way through the mass of writhing bodies when, an arm snaked out of the crowd and pulled her in a different direction. Someone leaned into her ear and said,
  “I’m taking you out of here. We need to talk!”

She recognized his voice.

  “Mark? Wha, Wha… What are you doing here? Stop I’m no-not going anywhere with you. Mark stop!”

Her cries went unheard over the music as he kept moving her towards the closest door. She tried to pull away but he purposefully pushed them through the crowd. The door slammed shut behind them and then there was silence.

  “Why are you doing this? Why today?” she whispered brokenly.

   “I couldn’t stay away Chloe... Not today... Today should have been our day. This should have been our wedding reception. I love you and I want to be with YOU, so please don’t throw that away. Don’t give up on us.”

Her eyes widened as she stepped forward shaking

   “Throw it away? YOU GOT SUSAN PREGNANT WHILE WE WERE ENGAGED! YOU betrayed me. You BETRAYED US! YOU BROKE US! You threw us away. There is no more us…”

Mark looked at her with disbelief…

Honestly the pressure was just too much.

I tried to jump on the technology bandwagon but it just left without me.

Such was the case with my twitter account. How the hell do people find time to tweet all during the day? Somedays it's just exhausting thinking about what I'm going to put in my blog. I found the pressure of trying to tweet about the interesting things in my life very hard - cause quite simply I just don't have enough going on to keep posting constantly. My tweets were beginning to look like this.

7:30am: Just waking up, rolling over to kiss Mr C and dog. 
7:32am: Dog and Mr. C passed out due to morning breath
8:00am: Pervy neighbour trying to catch a glimpse of me in my skivies. God I really detest that man.
8:45am: Leaving for work
Noon: Going to eat lunch
5:00p: Going home now
6:30pm: Walking dog. Making Dinner, falling asleep in front of TV

So I decided to spare my 9 followers the horror of reading about the minutiae of my life and deleted my twitter account. Now I'm trying to decide about what I'm going to do about Facebook!

The Sound of Freedom!!!!

So not the most creative blog title but, excuse me - I'm brain dead and sitting on the world's most boring sales call so I'm doing what I need to do - finishing my homework. So I have class tonight and I really struggled on this assignment. I am having performance anxiety!

After last week I didn't want to submit something that was the equivalent of a wet noodle. So I decided to write something about my favourite subject and the muse behind my blog - TJ.

Assigment #2

The Sound of Freedom

The sound of the front door slamming softly shook the house. They were gone. After weeks of plotting he’d finally found his opportunity to escape. While he was tempted to spring up and rush upstairs, he lay there quietly listening to the wooden floor boards and the walls settling in around him. After what seemed like an eternity, he noiselessly crept towards the stairs and looked up – half expecting to see someone looking down at him – but much to his surprise the door to the basement was open.

He took the stairs two at a time and burst out onto the main floor. It was a big cavernous room partially filled with furniture and long shadows with lots of hiding places to explore. He bounded over to the half-opened window, where he could hear the distant float of laughter and music and smell the blissful aroma of fresh baked bread. He could barely contain himself as he jumped around, howled and yipped excitedly. THIS WAS FREEDOM!

He was so caught celebrating that he didn’t hear the sound of the key fumbling in the lock of the front door, nor the soft creak as the door opened. In mid yip he turned and as his arctic blue eye met her nut brown ones, he knew he was in trouble.

So I had my trusty workplace editor Miss V review my homework and she made some really great tightening tips so I followed her advice. Again any comments would be appreciated.

I've decided to take the plunge and develop assignment number one into a short story.Now I have to come up with the rest of the words for it. Scribe I may need some professional editing assistance from you.

Just another post

I'm totally procrastinating right now because I'm supposed to be doing my homework. I even blew off the gym for this. I found this meme and thought it was really cool so I filled it out so that I can now go back to my homework.

Why did I sign up for this feckin class again? Oh yeah personal development.. Ok here goes

RULE 1- You can only say Guilty or Innocent.
RULE 2- You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you and asks!
RULE 3- Copy and paste this into your notes , delete mine and type in your answers and tag your friends to answer this.

Here I go:

Asked someone to marry you? Innocent.
Ever kissed someone of the same sex? Guilty.
Danced on a table in a bar? Guilty.
Ever told a lie? Guilty.
Had feelings for someone whom you can’t have back? Guilty.
Kissed a picture? Guilty.
Slept in until 5 PM? Innocent.
Fallen asleep at work/school? Guilty.
Held a snake? Innocent.
Been suspended from school? Innocent.
Worked at a fast food restaurant? Innocent.
Stolen from a store? Guilty.
Been fired from a job? Guilty.
Done something you regret? Guilty.
Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Guilty.
Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Guilty.
Pee'd yourself? Guilty
Kissed in the rain? Guilty.
Sat on a roof top? Guilty.
Kissed someone you shouldn't? Guilty.
Sang in the shower? Guilty.
Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Innocent.
Shaved your head? Innocent.
Had a boxing membership? Guilty.
Made a girlfriend cry? Guilty.
Been in a band? Innocent.
Shot a gun? Guilty.
Donated Blood? Innocent.
Eaten alligator meat? Guilty.
Eaten cheesecake? Guilty.
Still love someone you shouldn't? Innocent.
Have/had a tattoo? Innocent.
Liked someone, but will never tell who? Guilty.
Been too honest? Guilty.
Ruined a surprise? Innocent.
Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you couldn’t walk afterwards? Guilty.
Erased someone in your friends list? Guilty.
Dressed in a woman’s clothes (if you’re a guy) or man’s clothes (if you’re a girl)? Guilty.
Joined a pageant? Innocent.
Been told that you’re handsome or beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? Guilty.
Got drunk in a bar and made out with a guy and a girl. Guilty
Had communication with an ex? Guilty.
Got totally drunk on the night before an exam? Innocent.
Got so angry that you cried? Guilty.

Question of the day?

Where were men like this when I was single and dating? - Sigh, slurp!

Innocence Lost, Paradise Regained

I raised my hand, pointed the gun, closed my eyes and squeezed the trigger.

I wasn't prepared for the loud explosive boom; nor was I prepared to absorb the seismic force of the recoil as it rocked through my prepubescent frame. I dropped to my knees and covered my face but I could still hear the horrible sucking sound of the air being dragged out of the room; then the ear shattering sound of falling glass.

We could now clearly hear the cacophonous sounds of the looters interspersed with the sounds of bullets seeking, then finding their unintended targets. As we shrank back into the shadows – me clutching the gun, my grandmother clutching me – we softly began to recite Psalm 23 - The Lord is my Shepherd.

So peeps - I've done it. I've started to take a creative writing class to see if I've got what it takes to maybe write a book one day. I had an assignment where I had to describe a childhood memory in half a page with 12 font and that's what I wrote.

Thoughts???

When does a strategy become a stragedy?

About 15 mins into a meeting if you work where I do....

I was sitting in a meeting yesterday listening to the buzzword king go on and on about setting a strategic course for the direction of the rest of the year activities. In 7 minutes the word strategy was mentioned 9 times and throughout the entire 60 mins he kept stressing that he wanted to keep the discussion focused on strategy and not about tactics - then he proceeded to get into the proverbial weeds.

It was at this point that the whole meeting devolved into a stragedy. Thanks for word Chris.

Between the low hanging fruit and being really determined to focus on strategy and not tactics I managed to write down at least 34 words that I could use to create a new meeting game that I'm planning on introducing tomorrow - buzzword bingo.

During one of his four soliloquies, I started surfing the web and came across a site that tells you how to create a bingo card from overused buzzwords. According to the site

Buzzword Bingo is a fun game to play during meetings at work (but don't blame anyone but yourself if you get fired). Each member of the team takes one card into the meeting, and discretely ticks whatever words on his card that your boss says during the meeting. Whenever a player achieves the agreed upon bingo (such as a line of 5, or two overlapping lines of 5), depending on how brave he is, and whether he wishes to keep his job, he can either stand up and yell "BINGO!" or give a more subtle pre-agreed signal to the other players.

Buzzword Bingo is of course popular for those working with software and computers, but there's nothing to stop you playing the game in other industries that are full of jargon... Although, if you do work in the nuclear-power or aviation industries, perhaps it might be better to forego the game, and actually listen to the meeting.

Advanced Rules: Most meetings involve a two way conversation with the boss. Skilled players, will steer the boss towards saying the right target words. In the "Advanced Rules" version, this is encouraged, but you may only claim words that you have not said yourself during the meeting. Thus the challenge becomes (1) to get your boss to say "Erlang" without saying it yourself, and (2) to survive the meeting without saying too many buzzwords and killing your chances. In this variant, you can also manoeuvre your co-workers into saying the buzzwords and reducing their chances of winning.

I downloaded the instructions and we are SOOO playing this tomorrow and I'm determined to be the first one to yell BINGO!!!!!!!!!!

I will never leave my house without makeup again......

To punish myself I'm outing myself so that others may be learn. There is quite simply no excuse for it, especially cause I live with a major shutterbug so I've got to be on at all times. Trying to look all all cute in a club without a scrap of make-up on my face is not priceless.

Thank God - when I've got my act together I think that I clean up pretty nice :)

99 Red Balloons go by...

Well my grand plan for tonight was something like this.

Come home, do some light vacuuming, finish the laundry, download some new songs on my ipod, make a fabulous dinner for Mr. C, walk TJ, go to the gym, read a couple of chapters from the latest Christine Feehan novel and settle in to watch TV while finishing the bottle of Crianza that we opened a couple of days ago.

Then I came home...

I started dinner and had just put the chicken in the oven when... there was a knock on the door... it was angelic-faced circus freak dropping off a bouquet of 99 red balloons ... the evening went downhill from here.

I then spent the rest of the evening running around trying to keep the balloons in check while, searching high and low for a piece of paper that was just determined not to be found, dealing with an angry LARGE dog who was not pleased to have missed his walkies, answering calls from telemarketers trying to sell me duct cleaning that I really don't need.

THEN to top it off, I kept getting emails from people at work asking me completely random questions about stuff that I REALLY don't care about after 5pm.

I'm heading to bed now hugging my bottle of crianza, only stopping to grab a straw cause that's how really classy people drink wine.

Later ya'll

I'm back or at least most of me is...

It has been a while but I'll be back to my regular posting soon. I'm so exhausted right now I'm about to fall over and while I'd love to use the excuse that Mags is using, I tend to fall asleep once I start taking my allergy medicine.

So I've been all over the world recently (well not really the world but most of the tristate area) and while I was there I saw a couple things that I coveted.

I tried this dress on and it looked fab - shoulda bought it but though it'd be too much clothes for partying.


Who am I kidding, I don't party... May have to order it online, unless... a trip to Buffalo may be in my future.

Tried these on and damn near broke my ankle walking to the mirror to see how good they looked and no big surprise here - looked fabulous.


Note to self take lessons from Mags the Queen of the CFM shoes...then order shoes online.

Absolutely fell in love with this bag but considering it costs more than my monthly mortgage payment, I figure it's going to be part of my wish list for Xmas 2018!



Unless I can find in on ebay in a couple of months for a much more reasonable price....

Thank You Gandhi

On Tuesday - I had just come back after a particularly gruelling trip with Mother when I came home to find a young man tugging at the cable box which is at the side of my house.

As I approached him warily, I motioned to Mother to bring TJ out since the sight of my 100 lb dog, straining at his leash with his teeth bared is usually enough to send the most persistent door-to-door salesman running.

It seems that my neighbour had placed a call to the local cable company because they were having some problems with their tv signal and the sub contractors that the cable company sent out were complete cluckheads. In their zeal to fix the neighbours cable they cut mine off. WTF?

Three hours, 2 bottles of water (for them), a glass of white wine (for me) and a rather heated discussion later - the cable and the phone were back on but the internet was dead. I knew then that I had to make the call that I was dreading - I had to tell Mr C. that he would be offline for 7 days which was the earliest that they could get someone out to look at the Internet.

The conversation with him and his drive home were surprisingly short.

Mr. C came through the door guns (or should I say Mouses/Mice (sp?) ablazing ready to do battle. After exchanging pleasantries with Mother, a cursory pat for the dog and a brief kiss for me - he excused himself to go to the bathroom. On his way there he stopped to pick up the cordless phone.

He was in there for 30 mins and although he tried rather valiantly to keep his voice down, I could hear him speaking rather strongly to the person on the phone. By the time he emerged - he'd manged to get us 2 free weeks of Internet Service and most importantly a Friday visit from the cable company. Only 3 nights without the internet not the 7 that I'd been quoted.

Tuesday night (Night #1) was fine but Wednesday night (Night #2) as we sat there looking at each other - Mother, me, Mr. C - Mr. C, Mother, me (you get the picture) I realized that we needed help - we had to get access to the internet ASAP! I frantically searched for an unsecured wireless connection and much to my surprise there was a new unsecured network in the neighbourhood and it was called Ghandi.

As we both raced to log onto Ghandi and get back into the cyberworld - I wondered what would this peace loving, non-confrontal man think about this unlawful act on his namesake but then I found this quote from him which I thought quite appropriate.

As long as you derive inner help and comfort from anything, keep it.
Mahatma Ghandi

You want to look at what... my lady bits?

One of the benefits of getting older is having to go for medical tests to make sure that your lady bits aren't about to fall apart. I recently had to have an exam done at a hospital downtown which happened to be a teaching facility. I was asked if I would mind if a trainee could sit in on the exam and perhaps examine me. I said sure I don't mind, everyone's got to start somewhere.

I had just changed in the flattering blue paper gown and assumed the position (ladies you know what I mean) ... when there was a knock on the door. I looked up and God walked in... at least that's what I thought. The doctor in training - Dr. McChocolate was the most beautiful black man I'd seen in a while - quite frankly he was gorgeous. I sat up and stared at him absolutely dumbfounded.

He had to have been in his late 20's early 30's, 6ft 2in and not a spare ounce of fat on his 220lb muscled frame. He had a closely cropped fade, small goatee, big strong hands, white teeth, big strong hands, chocolate brown eyes, a killer smile, big strong hands and my god he smelled good. I looked at my doctor and said - ya gotta be kidding. He kinda looked like Henry Simmons (left).

You really want me to expose my gorgeous but rubinesque body to this beautiful man - under the harsh, unforgiving fluorescent light where there was absolutely no place for the me or the cellulite to hide. I needed soft lighting, an airbrushing machine and a couple bottles of wine.

My doctor asked if I would mind if McChocolate did my workup -between you and me - I was already worked up. As I was prepped for the procedure, the nurse dimmed the lights (she musta read my mind), I lay back and she turned on the spotlight on my vajay-jay. As the doctors leaned in closer... McChocolate said we're about to put the speculum in and you may feel a slight pressure as I begin the procedure.

For 6 minutes McChocolate and the doctor poked, prodded and apologized as they went about their business in my business. As I lay there on the table I wondered how appropriate would it be to ask the nurse to take a picture of McChocolate and me in my blue paper gown...

Excuse me ma'am, can I show you my $68 panty...

Now I've been known to spend a bit of money on clothes because I like to make sure that I look good without spending a fortune. Okay my fortune might seem exorbitant to some but... I don't smoke, drink or have kiddies so I buy pretty things when my heart desires... however I had to draw the line the other day at a pair of smalls aka undies.

I took Mother for a bra fitting the other day and hadn't planned on buying anything for myself but... a sheer black and pink bra called my name and well... my wallet answered. Being a specialty bra shop, I knew that the bra would be insanely priced and braced myself for that. At the end of my fitting the bra consultant (salesperson) asked me if I'd like to get the matching panties to go with it and I said sure... thinking if Mr. C was good tonight he might get to see me model the set.

When I got to the register, I really wasn't paying attention but when the bill was totalled, I almost had a heart attack - the matching panties were $68 dollars. Now they were very pretty and would go beautifully with my new bra but I just couldn't part with that kind of cash just so they'd match a bra.

The bra consultant valiantly tried to get me to take the matching panties but in the end gave in when I said to her... Lady if I buy these panties every time I put them on I'm going to have to out without pants to get my money's worth and you really don't want to expose everyone to these thighs.

Mr. C goes Bollywood...

Yup it's happened people - Mr. C has decided to embrace his heritage and returned to his roots. Well at least for one night...He met up with a few of his Bollywood peeps to have an "authentic meal" in Little India. If it's one thing that you gotta know about me is that I Lurve Indian food.

I fell asleep before he came home so with baited breath I waited to hear about all of the gastronomic delights and his rating of the restaurant. The conversation went something like this.

Mim: How was it? Did you enjoy it? What'd you have?
Mr. C: It was aiight! I had some biriyani and some other crap.
Mim: Was it spicy? Did you try something new anything that we can try sometime soon? What was the name of the restaurant? Would you go again?
Mr. C: Is the AC on 'cause it's hot in here?

That was the end of the conversation. Looking back I realized I probably asked way to many questions at once and he lost the plot or tuned me out. I would have been gushing about the meal, the presentation of the dishes, the spices, the smells and the overall experience. Oh well - he did bring home a souvenir from the night now I just wonder if he'll watch it with me.

Quite Simply - I'm fabulous

Earlier today - I got asked to describe the essence of who I am in 160 characters or less. After wrestling with the politically correct thing I could say, I thought who am I kidding - I'm fabulous!

Some might say it's a little arrogant but quite frankly they can go and eff themselves because if I don't think that I'm fabulous and then best thing since sliced bread, I'm sure as hell not waiting on them to tell me who I am.

I've been finding and reading a lot of blogs in the blogsphere this week and I've been absolutely inspired by some that I've read and others... not so much. I'm still trying to figure out what direction I'm going to take this blog in but until that day comes, thanks to all who drop by and

Bikini .. Burquini...

I was reading an article today about a muslim woman in France who was denied access to a public pool because she was wearing a burquini.

I'd never heard of this exotic swimsuit so after a quick google search here's what I found. A Burquini is a a two piece full length lycra swimsuit made up of pants and a loose A line top with a hijab head covering attached. Modest enough - to meet strict Islamic standards, but light fitting enough to enable the wearer to swim without encumbrance. (see pic on left)

This suit seems quite inventive because I couldn't image how much of a drag it would be to go to the beach on a hot day and have to sit there under a burqua. According to the french official they were saving the other swimmers from the food dropping, viruses, bacteria, sweat and bodily waste that clings to the fabric of the burquini. WTF?

He was worried that muslim women would run around town in their swimsuit running errands before heading to the pool for a quick dip and in the process transfer their germs the other scantily clad swimmers. I mean haven't you seen me at the supermarket in my tankini?

What a crock of pure, unadulterated shit! Pehaps the jackass had never been to a resort where people eat, swim, going to town and even going on horseback riding in their swimsuits. But I guess those swimsuits are stitched up with some germ repellent thread and because of their size, the germs have less places to hide.

Well to the Bigot who caused such a stir - that the interational news picked up this story -I say Thank You! Not only have you stirred up thousands of dollars in free advertising for the designer but you've educated some women on the fact that this wonderful suit is there.

• For women that have been scarred or disfigured and have perhaps been unable to go swimming for fear of people staring at their bodies, there is hope.
• For the women who are so sensitive to the sun that they can't expose their skin for large periods of time for fear of incurring 1st degree burns - there is hope
• For those who have more than a few pounds they'd like to hide - there is hope
• For those who exhibit poor taste in swimsuit selection - it should be mandatory
  

Now, not everyone has a body that can fill out a teeny gold bikini like my buddy Mags but Mags there's even a burquini available for you!
Just Kiiidddddinggggg!

Mac n Cheese, Collards and Fried Catfish...

If you hear slurping sounds it's the sound of me licking my computer screen and it's not cause of this tasty dish.

It's cause of this tasty dish. His name is Van he is one of the chef's on this season of Hell's Kitchen and I've fallen in lust love with him and oh yeah... homeboy can cook.

God what wouldn't I give to go visit Hell's Kitchen one day during taping so that I could watch the king in action. Sigh... If asked I'd choose from the Blue Team's menu not cause the men are rocking 'tis season, but cause I'd know that Van was touching my food.

Tonight he threw down some collards that I just about licked the screen for. Hmmm - I could just taste the mac n cheese, collards and fried catfish that Robert and him prepared. ( I know it's not grammatically correct but let me tell you that dish was that good)

I keep waiting on them to come up with a story line around him but I think he's such a good cook that they're saving it until they get rid of all of the other idiots. I can't wait to see what they do with him next.

Van you've got a fan here in Toronto!

The things we do for love...

I was planning on writing tonight about Channeling your Inner Sexpot but I just had to stop, hit backspace, backspace, delete, delete, delete. (Sorry Mags)

Tonight I'm trying to watch "More to Love" which has been billed as the new dating competition show from Mike Fleiss ("The Bachelor"), and it follows one regular guy's search for love among a group of real women determined to prove that love comes in all shapes and sizes.

People I gotta tell ya people I didn't think it was possible but reality tv has hit an all time low.
WTF? Now plus sized girls need help finding love too. Thanks but no thanks - I've tried to find one redeeming quality in this show but there is none.

One plus size guy and 20 plus sized girl DOES NOT good reality tv make. Between the crying and the protestations of love for a guy that they've met twice, someone please pull the trigger and put me out of my misery.

I mean I love the fact that they're trying to show us curvy girls in a good light but hellooooo where'd they get these losers from? And the guy... holy crap what an insanely dull and boring loser! I even forced Mr. C to look at it with me and at the end he turned to me and said...

Now what're you gonna to do to give me back that hour of my life....

Where do you find the words...

Some dear friends of mine are going a very difficult time in their life right now. They are in a battle to save their child and every so often they get thrown a new challenge that would rock anyone to their core.

I spoke to another friend tonight and she asked what do you say to someone in that situation and that got me thinking... There are a multitude of platitudes that you can say at a time like this but they all seem so inappropriate...although well meaning.

Although I don't live very close to the family and I'm not as close to them as others. If I could, I would reach out and just a rest a hand on their shoulder to let them know that I've joined the ranks of those standing behind them giving them strength and love to carry on...

Buyer's remorse... I don't think so

Before we bought our house we were told to expect some sleepless nights cause we'd feel so overwhelmed by buyers remorse - did we make the right decision, should we have chosen another house, how are we going to pay off the mortgage. Apparently buyer's remorse takes many different forms, most of them typified by a high level of anxiety, usually about having made the wrong decision.

I felt none of that, in fact I was so excited I couldn't wait to start decorating and could barely wait the 8 months to get the house. In fact I think the only sleepless night throughout the whole process was whether or not the house would be ready on the closing date and would my cabinets be stained the right colour.

Mr. C, Mother and I went shopping yesterday. We went to the mall cause I'm going to be buying my first apple computer in the next couple of weeks/months. I saw what I wanted online and just wanted to buy but Mr. C is the type that he has to research the heck out of a purchase before he commits - kinda like squeezing all the juice out of a lemon.

He is mystified that I can plunk down that kind of cash and not even blink. It got me thinking is Should I feel bad, should I be tossing and turning at night thinking about the impending purchase? Well I am anxious alright, I'm anxiously awaiting the arrival of my newest toy...

I've gotta say I've never really felt buyers remorse about anything that I've purchased... Well there was that one pair of pants that looked good front but far from good from the back...

We're okay... we've just got some trust issues...

I really love, lust like you!

Dear Jillian,

You don't know me, I'm TJ's Mim - earlier this spring I found myself watching The Bachelorette for the first time in ... years, or at least not since Meredith chose Ian and chickie although I don't like these relationship shows - I liked your style and I could feel your desire to find - The One.

You had quite a dramatic night/day when you picked Ed- gosh Jill, you woulda had three proposals if Kiptyn ever got around to pulling the damn ring out of his pocket. I guess it's every girl's nightmare dream.

Pssss Jilly....I'd have picked Reid cause gosh darn it - I think he was the real deal - but I respect your decision cause Ed does look like he has his shit together and a girl needs a little $ecurity cause love only goes so far.

Girlfriend, what is going on... your bizness is alllll over the net and people are talking about the latest with you two. Who are these two bitches that are now saying they been with your man after you said I do - WTF?

Jilly - girlfriend-to-girlfriend- yo boy sure has some drama going on that you really don't need to get caught up in. Now I'm not going to tell you to leave your man but honey... you had a problem with him in the fantasy suite ..nudge, nudge, wink, wink and now this. I'm not liking where this is heading.

Honey, I'll admit I've been cheated on in relationships and I've cheated in relationships and as a result I've got some trust issues that quite frankly I ain't ever or don't ever want to work through. But this thing with Edward is sooo new and you're having so many issues already - Do you really know the guy you've picked?

When I was younger and more svelte, I remember saying if a man ever cheated on me he'd be out the door. Well now I'm a bit older and slightly rubinesque and it's a bit more of a pain in the ass 'cause you've got assets, animals and other things to consider. But at some point in time you've got to throw your hands in the air and say - FU Asshole - I'm soooo outta here!

Sweetie let me tell you - relationships all have high and low points and in the beginning the highs should far outnumber the lows. After you've been together for a while - boredom sets in - and you may feel you know everything there is to know about each other and you've become accustomed to having each other around. Sometimes, this can lead to infidelity. If your man looks like he has his shit together the bitches will flock to him and honey the male ego is such a fragile thing, they can't resist.

So the way I see it you have three options

1. You can lay low and work shit out and honey although you can forgive him - don't evah forget!

2. You can call it off now - it's early days and you don't have any ties - financial or otherwise as yet. Emotional ties can heal really quickly (it's called the rebound guy)

3. You can play what's good for the goose is good for the gander! Men tend to assume that while they're out "playing" the woman's sitting at home. If they're out til three am they shouldn't take it for granted that you've been home sleeping, you catch my drift Jill.


Take care of you Jilly Bean (and honey give Reid a call :))

I've got that not so fresh feeling...

I've got a problem and so far it's not too serious but I sometimes wonder am I the only person who feels this way.

I consider myself to be a halfway decent cook and I think that Mr. C would agree. I like to experiment sometimes and like to take great pride in making sure that my food looks, smells and tastes appealing. I like to use my "good dishes" quite often and I'll set the table formally for dinner at least once a week - on Sunday's generally.

However, I've got a serious problem with leftovers. There's something about food that's been re-heated past one day that really turns my stomach. I can't stand the smell of it, the sight of it or the taste of it.

I listen to people who talk about cooking on a Sunday and then not having to cook again until Thursday or Friday and I think - how efficient and THANK GOD I don't live with them. Past one or two days even the best tasting meal loses it's appeal. I've tried to figure out why this is a problem and I think it's cause of what happened to me as a child.

My paternal grandmother was a fabulous cook and she cooked every day. My mother did not. My granny made every meal super exciting and oh so tasty. My mother did not. Granny was a fabulous baker who never measured a thing. My mother - not so much. Granny taught me how to cook and bake and my mother did not.

Now don't get me wrong - it's not that I don't love and appreciate all of the things that my mother has done and continues to do for me but she has no idea of about to cook just enough food for two days. She's been staying with me for a few weeks and I think that she's starting to get bored.

On Monday we decided to make a big Sunday dinner and I gave Mother the recipe for a casserole that I've made many times before and I knew would last for 2 to 3 days. I went outside to water the plants and when I came back and looked in the oven where there should have been one dish there were two.

Mother added some extra ingredients to "spice up" the recipe cause she felt that it could have used a little "help". In addition to the extra ingredients, she decided that she should double the recipe because the one dish would clearly not be enough for three adults and one dog. In absolute frustration I left Mr. C to deal with her while I continued to water the plants. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind but instead of overcommunicating - I decided to focus on something else instead.

At the end of the day, the pie was baked and it was okay but now we be eating the casserole until Saturday. I can feel my stomach churning already and the bad memories of not-so-fresh food returning.

Let Sleeping dogs lie...

Mr. C and I have a fur baby TJ aka Bobo who is the muse behind my writings. While we both love and adore Bobo we've got a bit of a problem because ....he doesn't know he's a dog.

Bobo is a large 100 pound dog (who thinks he's human) with light blue eyes and a wide toothy grin only which can only be rivaled by one underwear loving Kao. I think that he may be a little spoiled....

In Bobo's world Mr. C aka poppa is the alpha who he has the utmost respect for. "Mim" is his playmate and his momma. She is also the one who gives him the most yummy treats but Grammy aka Mother is the LOVE of his life. When Grammy comes to visit, he spends all of his waking moments and many of his sleeping moments with her - both Mim and Poppa are simply ignored unless it's time to eat or go for walkies...

Last night Grammy and Bobo had their first fight and it was quite traumatic. Grammy is staying in the blue bedroom which he considers to be his and she got up in the middle of the night to go to the washroom and he decided he was going to stake his claim on the bed. He doesn't normally sleep in that room at night cause it's his sun room during the day while he waits for us to come home from work.

Apparently he lay across the bed so that she couldn't lie down comfortably and when she tried to get him to move, he growled and bared his teeth at his beloved. Grammy got scared and decided not to move him. She then decided to spent the rest of the night in a chair in the study. At 4am when I got up to use the facilities, I heard a noise and checked the bedroom and found her in the study and Bobo splayed across the bed. (No... he doesn't wear a nightgown to bed)

I attempted to move him and was treated to the same grumpy old man behaviour cause if it's one thing he hates - it's to be moved while he's trying to catch some zzz's.

After much moaning, wrangling and snapping of teeth (mine not his), he was off the bed and out of the room. He looked so hurt that he could barely looked at his beloved as he walked out of the room. Mother - forgetting that she was about to spend the night in the chair because of a dog - wanted to go after him and comfort him but I assured her that he'd be fine.

After getting her settled and getting me a drink of water, I went back to my room only to find Bobo splayed across my side of the bed on his back, legs in the air, looking at me askance from one eye as if to say - Biatch bring it on!

I guess this means I don't have to talk to you anymore

That's what Mr. Computer aka Mr. C said when told him I've started a blog. That plus "don't put our business on the street". I keep wondering what business do we have to put out there. We've got a lot of electronics that I'd like to put out but no other business that really belongs out there.

There are two adults and one rather large dog (who thinks that he's human) that live here (aka "the barracks" according to Mr. C) and I'm ashamed to say we have more than 5 working computers at the barracks at any given point in time.

Although I'm a fabulous multitasker even I can't use two computers at the same time. Mr. C is a one task at a time kinda guy (love ya babe!) and most times he's only on one computer at a time. So if Mr. C is on the #1 and I'm on #2 other - does that mean that TJ's working on #3 through 5?

I've never seen it myself but since he's got four legs, I can only imagine that he's probably using his front paws for #3, his back legs for #4 and for #5 - he's really quite adept at using his tail to move objects around so a keyboard is no big deal.

Earlier this week #4 suddenly and rather unexpectedly passed away. A moment of silence please............ Ok so #4 went back to the big CPU in the sky and after a brief but poignant service, I was dispatched to Geek Squad to see if there was anyway to resuscitate him.

Unfortunately - after extensive probing, the news was not good. With a heavy heart I called Mr. C and had to break the news that #4 was just not worth $$ fixing. My suggestion which was agreed to at that time - Clean the hard drive and donate it someone who can give it a better home.

I gathered my thoughts, prepared my best arguments and counter arguments and proposed to Mr. C that we should also perhaps put #2 #3 and #5 up for adoption and let's replace #4 with a Mac which we both can share. That would then mean that we would be down to 2 machines - #1 and #4b. You'd swear I'd asked Mr. C to go without his BB for a week. (we'll save that for another post)

We discussed my proposal back and forth for hours (probably seemed like hours to him - more like 15 mins for me) and I'm not sure how it happened but it appears that we're going to be trying to fix #4 and we're going to add #6. What the heck happened to my well rounded argument? Where's #6 going to go and who's it for?

As I type Mr. C has announced to all present in the room - Mother, TJ, #3 and #4 and me that -"this is the perfect weekend to buy some electronics"

God help us all!

Dora the Explorer!

Is my name that difficult to pronounce?

Today I had someone call me Maura and I wondered how on earth could you get Maura from Rhonda. hmmm!!! To be honest I think I made them nervous so they just blurted out the first name that came to mind. I just have that effect on people, sometimes.

To be honest it's never really bothered me because when someone's mucked up my name it's either
a) Someone that I really don't give a shit about or,
b) Someone who's calling me to do something I really don't want to do anyway.
But it got me thinking why Rhonda - why not Sally? I did some research on my name and found out that it is of Welsh origin and means - "Good lance" or "noisy" and it was popularized in the US during the 1960's by the Beach boys with their song "Help me Rhonda" (which I personally hate, so please don't sing it to me.)

There are 11 varations on my name which range from LaRhonda to Rondelle (trust me when I say I got the best of the variations). So it got me thinking why Rhonda and why not something exotic Alexandra or Zoie. Mother is in town for a couple of weeks, so I decided to ask why and the convo went something like this:

Me: Why'd you name me Rhonda?
Mother: Well your maternal grandmother wanted to call you Rosemary and your grandfather wanted to call you Sandrine.
Me: Huh? No I asked why'd you and Father pick the name Rhonda?
Mother: Well your grandmother liked the name Roger and if we had a boy that was going to be his name.

At this point in time, I got up to pour myself a glass of wine - because it appears that this was going to be a loooong conversation.

Me: Oh that's a nice boy's name!
Mother: What's the problem don't you like your name - I picked it cause I liked it and after all you were born close to Christmas and we wanted to have a saints name we used a variation of St. Nicholas for your name.
Me: I never said I didn't like my name it's just that I'm curious as to to why that name. I never ...ah knew... that Rhonda was a variation of Nicholas
Mother: You are not listening to me! I said I knew a lady named Rhonda and I liked her name. Quite frankly you should be happy I saved you from a life of ridicule because your father's mother wanted to call you - Dora!
Me: Thank yoooou Mother!
Mother: I thought that you'd see it my way. When are we leaving to go shopping?

While Dora is my niece's favourite tv character I couldn't imagine what it would have been like to have grown up as Dora in the 70's and 80's. So when I sat down to take stock of all of the different ways that my name has been written or mis-pronounced

honda
Randa
Rohonda
Rohondah (how the heck do you pronounce this)
Rounder (I know that I could stand to lose a few pounds but really is it necessary to point it out)
Brenda (usually said by people for whom English is not their first language)
Brenna (same as above)
Rolonda
Rawlanda

It's really not that bad cause it could have been a WHOLE LOT WORSE!

Waiting in the dark

My cousin told me this the other day and it really resonated with me. It reminds me of something someone else told me back in April that continues to stay with me.

When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do no see the one which has opened for us.

I don't want to be one of those people who keeps looking at the close door but I constantly find myself constantly having to remind myself to STOP LOOKING AT THE CLOSED DOOR!

I'm a little bit in the dark right now waiting for the pin prick of light to appear so I can move in the right direction. It's so hard because sometimes I feel like the powers that be can't see or hear me waiting impatiently in the dark alone. So I'm sending out this simple prayer to you Dear Lord asking you to protect and watch over me while I wait in the dark

Because he loves me,
I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.
With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation

Amen

Ouch I hit my Weenis!

Hey ya'll,

Well I think i've figured out what's wrong with me - I'm going multiball and i'm not even on those meds yet. In addition this morning I hit my weenis - Ouch what a way to start the day!

Last night I had some pretty violent dreams - I was street fighting in the slums of Mississauga and I was getting my ass kicked left and right. No matter how hard I tried some soccer mom in a mini-van get cutting me off, it was horrible - no wonder I woke up in a foul mood.

After the bad dream and the weenis incident I was in an absolutely fabulous mood heading to BFL. Needless to say I was an absolute bear in the office. According to Mags - she thinks I have officitis - I know I was trying to create Kittywompus.

I'm normally a very agreeable and likeable person but I know that they were glad to see the back of me today.

Heck I was glad to see the back of me today!

For the love of television

There are a few good shows on television this summer that I'm following

1. Tuesday night Hell's Kitchen - God I love Gordon Ramsey! He calls it like he sees it and is not afraid to light a fire under the contestants arses! The show started with a bang tonight with one of the contestants losing control.

2. Sunday Night True Blood - Sookie Stackhouse is the bomb! This paranormal drama is loosely modelled after the Charlaine Harris Sookie Stackhouse series. Alan Ball has done an amazing job of bringing Bon Temps Louisana to life - the characters leap off the screen and have gone far beyond what Harris pre-ordained for them. This is one series where the TV show outshines the book.

3. Monday Night Nurse Jackie - Edie Falco rocks as the dysnfunctional, drug addicted nurse working in a very busy hospital - it's early days but it looks promising.

4. Sunday Night Hung - It's kinda out there. A high school coach who is a well hung gigolo - ahmm, i don't know

5. The Bachelorette - It's over and she chose the wrong guy. I'm gonna go on record here and say it's not going to last - She shoulda picked Reid!

6. Sunday night Entourage - Ari, Vince and the boys are back and hotter than ever.

Am I going to look at the fat guy finding love! Sure why the hell not - I'm an equal opportunity TV watcher.

Yay for summer TV!