Monday, August 29, 2011


You never find trouble when you are looking. But the moment you stop looking and go about your business, it finds you.

It was one tall extra spicy ceasear and a catch up session with Candace, nothing more, nothing less. It wasn't supposed to have any lasting effects on my life. most certainly did.

My life, overnight, has gone from a nice, normal pace, back and forth between work and home. I had time for squash games, grocery shopping and bbq's. But now. Now I don't even have time to write this.

I'm in training.

I wake up and I visualize the perfect toss. All day I hear the Swoosh as the oddly-shaped piece of metal tears through the air; see the 'tink' as it hits the stick; feel the rush of a ringer!

Yes my friend - I have signed up for a high-stakes horseshoe tournament!

Brunch included.

My life now consists of watching u-tube videos on the how-to's of horseshoes. I eat, I breath, I sleep horseshoes.

Problem is, I don't have any horseshoes. If you do and you'd like to lend them to a friend in need - I'm in need. Heavy. I have only 13 days to the big game. I'm half ready - I've got the trash talking part nailed, but I need to at least hold a real horseshoe in advance - my entire reputation hangs on this...I can't go home without that trophy!

Please help! If you or anyone you know has a horse that wouldn't mind lending me his shoe for a day or two, call me right away!

I'll remember you with much gratitude in my 1st prize acceptance speech...and my future Nike sponsorship deals...

Friday, August 26, 2011

Just a Few More Miles

I received an email from a friend in London that said he was going to spend the weekend walking along the coast.


For fun.

"Did your car break down?" I asked.

Apparently this passes as ‘an excursion’ in the UK?!
Really - people there actually plan their holidays around a walk!

Just imagine how that would go over in Canada! Imagine there is a company called the Wandering Canuck and they specialize in these ‘walking holidays’.

WALK! From Calgary to West Edmonton Mall. Witness beautiful prairie sunsets!"
(lots and lots and lots of sunsets)

Walk the Yukon! Whitehorse to Dawson – be there in only 87* hours!"
*absolutely NO rest breaks, sleeping, or stopping to re-tie your shoe

Walk the Yellowhead. A lifetime experience!"
an entire lifetime

Or the old Saskatchewan walking tour "I walked for seventeen days straight - saw wheat and an owl. Oh and a dog that was running away. Strangest thing - his owners were still watching him from their porch even though he was at least four days away by then. Took one photo and captured the entire trip. Wait, here's the photo. See, I started here and ended here - there's the owl I saw on day two and the dog I saw on day eleven. Ahhh, good times."

OK. I get it. It's flat.

You know, maybe Canadians should take up walking, give them something better to do than poke fun of Saskatchewan.

happy friday,

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Things I Learned from a Baseball

Take it on the chin – according to the idiom dictionary means to ‘receive the full brunt of something’ or ‘to be brave and not to complain when bad things happen to you or people criticize you’

In the idiot dictionary it means ‘put your ball glove in front of your face, you idiot’

Friday, August 19, 2011

End of the Accident

There is a show on tv called True Blood. Apparently it is about vampires and witches and goblins. It’s not really my thing that whole world of sorcery and spells and blood-sucking, but I realize it is glamorous to some, and so I have nothing against it. After all, lets face it – I could really care less about what goes on channels that aren’t TSN anyway.

But it did catch my attention this week. Not the show itself, but the controversy surrounding it.

Have you ever heard of a Wicken? I have. Some of you even know of my personal experience with them. A few of you, in fact, shared that “interesting” weekend with me…and the Wickens. Those that weren’t there needn’t have been for this story though – it is enough to say that Wickens consider themselves witches. But ‘good’ witches I think is how they’d describe themselves, or sun witches or something? Whatever, to me, a witch is a witch – they wear strange pointy hats and cast dark spells out of old books written in witchery.

Now remember I have not seen the show, so I cannot comment on the accuracy of the statements coming from the Wicken corner, but the point is they are protesting. It appears (to those whom watch) the reason for this protest is that the show True Blood makes witchcraft look to easy.

‘So what?’ you ask?? Well I’ll tell you 'so what'…

You know how in the Olympics the diving people make diving look so easy and then it’s a disaster when people start jumping off buildings in swan-like fashions into kiddie pools, or how magicians make sawing people in half look so easy that anyone who buys a new fridge surely gives it a go with the box their fridge came in and a willing volunteer – cause why not, it looked so simple on the tv and no one got hurt – and nothing good comes of it? Well, the wickins are worried that people will try to cast spells on each other and someone will utter a magic word incorrectly or wave their wand counter-clockwise and the consequences will be dire.

DIRE. Not like, call an ambulance dire....we are talking end of the world type stuff here.

So now I live in fear. It’s a legitimate concern! If you don’t know the bits, you should not be bibbity-bobbity-booing all over the place all carelessly and such. Voodoo injuries are the least of my concerns – the dark fury of satan accidentally cast upon the world…that’s the big one. I mean imagine it – someone sees it on TV and thinks, ‘hey I can do that’ so they get their big soup pot and start throwing things in and then innocently substitute ground ladybug because they can’t find ground scorpion – who knows what that could do??? No cauldron... Polka-dots instead of scorpion claws...

No one knows.
That’s the answer.

Sure, maybe one little frog will turn into a toad instead of a prince, but what if that’s not all that ensues???

You don’t know what demon could be unleashed, and I just don’t think this is ‘trial and error’ type stuff. It’s not like adding a pinch of something different to a tried and true recipe. Having to feed your dog curry-chicken-pyrogies because they sounded better than they tasted is one thing, but you can’t feed your dog a Frankenstein.

My first reaction was to say, 'well, you’re a witch, go make the show disappear' – isn’t that what witches do after all? But then I remembered the whole reason for the protest was because it’s not easy being a witch, so I know they'd only reply with what a difficult spell that would be....

...but, come on witches - it’s not like you have anything better to do - you’re sitting around watching TV all day for crumb's sake!!

happy friday,

Friday, August 12, 2011

27(ish) Dresses

Imagine if my name began with a W.

Wanda, Wilma, Waneta – whatever….the name itself doesn’t matter, the point is I could marry someone with an ‘A’ name. We could have an A&W themed wedding. How much fun would that be?! Rootbeer floats for the kids, rootbeer paralyzers for the adults, a midnight burger bar, French fries instead of flower bouquets…mmmm the scent of grease wafting through the church. The bridesmaids adorned in brown and orange gowns and a giant teddy bear mascot milling about, taking photos with the guests.

But my parents named me Tanya, not Wynonna, Willow or Whoopi, so if I marry an ‘A’, I have to do – not a rootbeer theme – but a T&A theme?! And come on! That is just plain inappropriate for a wedding!

….unless I marry a Vegas stripper… that case, it would probably be a pretty appropriate theme…..

Actually it doesn’t really matter what the theme ends up being. The only thing I care about when I get married, the whole reason for the big elaborate wedding I’m going to have with at least 13 – yes THIRTEEN – bridesmaids, is so that I can say to all of them, “You can TO-TAL-EEE wear that dress again! Why, you could just hem it!”

See, I know it’s meant to be a nice sentiment, but it’s really more patronizing than nice, take it from me and all my dresses – it NEVER happens. First of all, for the price of alterations, you may as well go and pick out a new dress and secondly – what is meant to be a gown isn’t meant to be a mini-skirt. I mean to get shorts, you don’t cut off your pants – no, you go buy shorts! They are cut differently. And thirdly – where exactly is it appropriate to wear a bridesmaids dress??? Not to work, not on a Friday date night at the movies, and certainly not to a wedding where you are not a bridesmaid, so where then? Waterskiing?

Don’t get me wrong, I have loved all the dresses I’ve worn and have been proud to stand beside those that I have, but let’s just be honest. Bridesmaid dresses are re-worn about as often as people are out and about in their wedding gowns after the big day!

Someone suggested a Halloween wedding-themed party so people could get a second use of these gowns/dresses, it’s not a bad idea….but the best idea was just to wear the thing to the persons house next time I went for a visit! Just casually walk in, take off my coat, take a seat, sip my coffee and hang out in the gown. When they ask why I am wearing it, reply with “What do you mean? You’re the one who said I could wear it again! And you were totally right – it’s nice don’t you think? This totally works, doesn’t it? Yup, it’s a good look! One that I can wear over and over…”

happy friday!

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Next Time, No Hustler...

Unfortunately a friend of mine recently found himself in a hospital bed. I wanted to do something to lift his spirits, but what would that be?

For a female, easy - you bring flowers. She looks at the splash of colour, thinks of you thinking of her, and smiles. Mission accomplished.

But men don't stare at flowers and think 'oh, pretty!' But they do seem to like staring at naked chicks... So I thought, what better then a playboy magazine to brighten his day! He can stare at the pictures and think 'oh, pretty!' or whatever guys think when they look at the naked lady pictures, and when he's bored of staring he can read the articles. They must be good - that is why guys buy them after all. But in order to do this, I had to ask a couple guys I work with where to find a playboy magazine. Hoping they would suggest a place that had self checkouts, I was very disappointed to hear that not only would I have to go to a convenience store, but I would likely have to ask the dude at the counter for it. They also said that playboy was a good choice - for the articles of course - but added that in Penthouse or Hustler the pictures were better and they had less articles taking up space than Playboy. Ok. Good to know. Wait. But don't you buy them FOR the articles?? Nevermind.

So at 11am, when I suspect the convenience store business is slow, I ventured off to a 7-11 far from my home and workplace. I went to the magazine aisle and found a Men's Health, a Maxium, and a Playboy. But remembering that the guys said 'Penthouse' or 'Hustler' I searched and searched. Nope. Damn. I'm going to have to ASK for that one. Ok, I can do this. Yup.just after all the innocent customers here for bubble gum and newspapers clear out...after 15 minutes hiding in the chocolate bar aisle, the place finally cleared out! I saw my chance and I took it. I casually threw my men's magazines and Reese cups on the counter.

Calm. Cool. Collected.

He was ringing in my playboy when I blurt out, 'do you got any penthouse or hustler back there?' (yes - I said 'do you got.')

The clerk looked up at me very seriously. "No ma'am," he replies. "7-11 and MAC's, we do not carry REAL porn."

A bit stunned at the response, having expected it to all be over in the next three minutes, I hear myself say "Oh, you uh know where can I get some?"

Now he just looks sorry for me. "Ma'am, I really don't know. You could try the grocery store three blocks down. My parents used to own a store and they carried the real good magazines, but no more. I don't know where to go. Maybe ask them at the grocery store down there." He points.

Oh geez. I pay. I leave. I never look him in the eye.

As I'm driving back to the office I pass the grocery store he mentioned. I hesitate, then think, no, I just can't start walking into random establishments asking for dirty magazines. If I knew they had them, ok, but I'm not just going to roll the dice.

So I drive past. But then I see the 'Toy Box'. The windows are covered in black paper, paint is peeling off the door, but a little "OPEN" sign draws me in. If the Toy Box doesn't have 'REAL' porn then no place will. I enter. I scan quickly, I see no one, I spot a magazine rack to my right. JACKPOT! I quickly go over, the sooner I get out the better. I reach down to grab the first glossy Penthouse I see.

The moment my fingers touch the plastic packaging I hear, "My, my, I see you know EXACTLY what you are looking for and EXACTLY where to find it!"


Note to self: next time in sex shop spend first 3 minutes looking confused and disoriented.

I slowly turn to see a sweaty, creepy dude right behind me.

Note to self: next time enter sex shop, bring bear spray.

Turns out creepy guy was the sales guy. He told me he was in the back doing some 'housekeeping' when I had come in, but the beads of sweat indicated perhaps something other than light dusting. I didn't care, I just wanted out. I wanted to pay. I wanted to go. I wanted my mommy.

Note to self: never enter sex shop again. What 7-11 doesn't sell, I don't need!

FYI - Female or Male - if you end up in the hospital and a package arrives from me - trust me - it's flowers.

happy friday!

My Best Side

Do you know what is on the top of my head?

White hair.

Not grey. Not light. WHITE.

I thought about pulling them out this morning, but then I'd have this bald spot and I'm not sure which is worse.

There are more than a few more than 6 and they are right up there front and centre. I mean, why wouldn't they go somewhere more hidden - somewhere I wouldn't have to stare at them everytime I pass by a mirror, window, drinking glass.

Preferably on someone else's head.

You know though, even with the white hair, I still do get comments about how young I look from time to time. I thought it was nice. Flattering even. Until I realized what was really happening.....

I walked into the casino and this 'bouncer' came running over, "Miss, can I see your ID," he asked me as he reached out and grabbed my arm.

I turned to face him and said, "Sure."

But before I could reach down for my purse he said, "Oh no, that's ok, you're old enough."

"WHAT?!? How do you know?!??!"

Ya, like I said, all the white ones right up front......


It's sad the day you realize that your back side has become your best side....

happy friday!


I don’t mind sushi. Sure, I don’t love the stuff - I’m a farm girl after all, not a mermaid. I’d take a big juicy steak over raw fish wrapped in seaweed any day of the week...

Hey – do you know what I can’t stand? People who claim to be vegetarians but eat seafood. So, you won’t eat a cow cause it’s alive and it can moo so it can feel pain, but you’ll eat a poor little shrimp or a wall-eye? WTF?! Fish have feelings too. Just cause you can’t hear their tiny high-pitched wails underwater and their tears get jumbled up in the ocean before you can decipher them doesn’t mean they aren’t crying.

These people, they call themselves ‘pesce-vegetarians’ and they think by having vegetarian in their label they are somehow more virtuous or moral than us more carnivorous-vegetarians. But I ask, what is the difference between someone who has no qualms chomping on Nemo or Kermit the Frog’s legs, and me who would happily chow down the Easter Bunny or Bambi’s mom?

Ya – Bambi’s mom. I am no longer allowed in the ‘Canadian Wildlife’ exhibit at the Calgary Zoo….my tummy rumbled so loud the zoo-keepers thought it best to protect their moose, elk, deer….Mmmm……deer steak......sorry, what? oh ya….

Who are these people anyway – these fish-a-tarians? Think about all the flies and worms that these non-committal, wanna-be-do-gooder, pesky-people - oops…I mean ‘pesce-people’ - are sacrificing just to catch their dinners. Flies and worms have feelings too people!

If you ask me, these fish-a-tarians are prejudice. Only eating ugly things does not make it ok. Let's face it more people sell puppy calendars than tadpole calendars, but I don’t think that’s a reason to deem them ‘ok to eat’.

See, I don’t judge. Cute things are just as edible as ugly ones.

We live on the top of the food chain – we get to taste EVERYTHING! It’s a locational-perk!

I made a friend in university. Nice enough guy and I liked him probably from the first time I met him, but the day he made the transition from ‘acquaintance’ to ‘friend’ was the day he called me and invited me for dinner cause he was “making vegetarian lasagna”.

Yes, vegetarian….and yes, I showed up. I’m not proud of it given my beliefs, but hell, I was in university – pride didn’t stand a chance against free food!

Anyhow, when he set a plate of vegetarian lasagna in front of me I was ecstatically-surprised to see ground beef falling out all four sides! “Kevin!” I exclaimed, “I thought you said you made vegetarian lasagna!”

“I did.” He said, wondering what the problem was. “I made vegetarian lasagna cause it was healthy, then I added meat so it tasted good.”

Yup. I knew right there…friends for life.

Yes, so anyway, the reason for this email was the sushi – I am wracking my brain to figure out if the world is on a mission to convince me to love sushi or if heaven has me tagged for death-by-salmonella – for the second time in little over a month a restaurant has served me raw meat – different restaurants, different foods. First a raw hamburger at one restaurant; today, raw salmon at another. Well, I’m onto you, Grim Reaper – you won’t get me that easily! I’ll be checkin my chicken!

….and my pig, cow, deer, shrimp, mussels, turkey, deer, halibut…..

happy friday,