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!