Birds will be the death of me

Big Bird - Library of Congress, Living Legend ...

Big Bird – One of many muppet birds who don’t scare me like the real things do – not that Big Bird isn’t real, you know what I mean.

I get asked LOTS of questions here at the Edmonton Tourist. Usually they come from the ‘contact me‘ page, people will message me on my facebook page (hey come like me!) or they message me and chat away with me on twitter @edmontontourist. Sometimes I get asked questions directly in the comment section here on this blog or my Me and Mo Running blog. I get invitations to speak at gatherings, events and even summits (hello Canadian Medical Association!). But sometimes someone who I consider a bloggy friend, who morphed into a facebook friend asks me a question that has me stumped.

This is hard for me to take because I brag CONSTANTLY to my children about how I know EVERYTHING. Although now that they are approaching their adulthood – and quickly – they don’t believe me with the same intensity. If fact – sometimes I am called a LIAR. Shocking…but true. They have called me worse, but that might shock my grandma – so let’s just leave it at ‘liar’.

Mark Petruska, or should I say Author Mark Petruska who hails from Portland Vancouver, Washington asked me this:

Does your fear of birds stem from old Hitchcock movies? Scientific documentaries proclaiming that birds are descended from dinosaurs? Mitt Romney throwing Big Bird under the bus? Or is it something else entirely?

 

Hmmm. Good question Mark! I need to think about it.

For as long as I could remember, I feared birds in the “HOLY CRAP I AM GOING TO DIE!” way. Never in the “EWWW THEY ARE ICKY” way. Because Birds are not icky. Rodents are. Birds scare me in ways that I fear a stroke or a heart attack.

But the question remains WHY?

I watched Alfred Hitchcock’s Birds when I was a teen, but I was already REALLY SUPER SCARED of birds by then. I would never pet chicks, never feed chickens, never feed ducks at the pond, and never EVER help grandpa fill his 9 billion bird feeders or paint any of his bird houses because I had no interest in those birds being anywhere near me – EVER.

Then a memory came to me. Then I realized I had REPRESSED this memory. Thinking about it TERRIFIES ME STILL.

I was 6 years old and living in Canada’s Arctic in a town called Yellowknife, North West Territories. Ravens were as bad as mosquitos. I kid you not. They were huge from my point of view and memory – so I looked them up. They are like flying chickens. My mom threatened to cook one for Thanksgiving one year. The problem with Ravens is they are smart. And not your usual “oh look a bird feeder” they are “hey fella’s, look over there, I see a grocery store. Let’s devise a plan to open the door and have a feast!”

I know you don’t believe me.

I remember walk home from school and my friend was eating a snack. The ravens swooped in, pulled my jacket so I was not in reaching distance of her. Another one flapped his wings in her face, while a third took the food out of her hands. It was scary.

Another time I was sitting in the window of our home and I watched two raven hover over a garbage can while a third one took the lid off. Then the other two went in and lifted the garbage bag out – first guy drops the lid and the 3 of them fly off with the garbage bag.

They would tease dogs for fun. I read about a raven working an automatic light and turning it on then wrapping its wings around the light to keep warm. These critters are smart. This was my first close encounter with birds. No wonder I am scared.

I saw a video of a Yellowknifer playing with a Raven. He would stick his finger out, say don’t peck me and of course the Raven would and the Raven would LAUGH! Are you kidding me? THAT BIRD LAUGHED! Fast forward after  you watch the beginning – PROOF!

These birds are far to smart for my liking, they will gesture to their pals, point with their feet, wings and beaks to hatch a hunting plan.

Now, I know they can talk but it isn’t the same as if Big Bird was speaking to me or if Clara and her hen party were singing at my birthday. These birds are normal in my eyes. Ravens have scarred me forever.

So now I need a little Muppet Happiness so I can sleep tonight.

 

Once upon a time there was a little girl who could make babysitters cry…

06443029462bcbe897d59a3467928dc4_answer_6_xlarge10 o’clock at night and my girl is upstairs blasting Time Lord Rock while baking Rose Tyler esc cupcakes for a dear friend and fellow Whovian’s birthday. I have been told that she is quite capable of following the instructions and baking on her own. Agreed.

Then I hear “Moooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom, can I have your opinion on these cupcakes please? They are giant but liquid in the middle. How long should I put them back in for? And why do they taste like Cherry Cough Syrup?”

Good Question… Ask Grandma.

My mom was a good egg in lots of ways. She always let me listen the radio station of my choice when we were in the car. She didn’t care. Dad on the other hand would say “This stuff is utter crap, I can’t listen to this.” And the station would change to some oldie station playing Peter, Paul and Mary or the Limelighters. This would account for my obscure and amazing talent of knowing every song ever written between 1948 and 1989, this includes jingles and TV theme songs. It’s a handy talent for some great trivia games and for radio quiz shows where I get to win tickets to The Who and The Rolling Stones.

Mom would also encourage me to experiment in the kitchen. I learned the basics from her and my Aunty Mary Poppins, but the fine tuning I did on my own. I dad would eat ANYTHING I put in front of him and he would always say, “That is the best I ever had! Did I make it?” Between both my parents, that made me fearless in the kitchen. I am not a swell cook – but I am an AMAZING baker. There is a difference. I think some people can be great at both but often they are only good at one or the other.

My girl is a self proclaimed distraction in the kitchen. I let her do all kinds of baking and cooking experiments but there is usually some disaster that happens and we need to figure out how to fix it. To be honest, it isn’t always fixable, so we pack it up and give it to her Grandpa (my dad) who will eat ANYTHING and say it’s the best ever.

I remember baking on Friday nights when we had a babysitter because Mom and Dad were off Dancing  - I know…it was the olden days when people went dancing at the club – (as in country club) It sounds fancier than it was, but my parents loved it. We went through babysitters like some people go through socks. My brother and I were THE WORST KIDS EVER – not true  - were only bad if we didn’t like the babysitter. I liked the weak ones. The ones that were nice on the outside but I could make them cry in an instant. One time we had this gal, a neighbor of my grandma, she came over and wanted to play games or watch TV and I would say – no. I am baking cookies.

“Are you allowed to do that?”

Me: NO – are you kidding? Mom is going to kill you. “Yes, my mom lets me all the time.”

“Okay – call me if you need help”

Me: pfffff whatever – “okay”

I went into the pantry and pulled out all the ingredients for Quaker Oatmeal Cookies. The Just Add Water kind of cookie mix that mom would buy and add a billion things to for granola bars. I used an entire package (enough for 1000 cookies) and a gallon of water. I think it said one cup but the measuring cup was really big – I think it was 8 cups. But I filled it because it was still only one cup.

I had made cookie cake. It was liquid porridge. I couldn’t spoon it onto a cookie tray, it would run all over the place. So I left it in the bowl, put all the dirty dishes and baking garbage into the oven and shut the door.

I went to join the babysitter and my brother and said I changed my mind. I didn’t want to bake.

Later while I was fake sleeping, my mother called me into the kitchen.

She had the keen sense of Sherlock Holmes. There wasn’t a dish left out, yet she knew.

“What happened in here tonight?”

Me: I was fake tired and said “What???’ in my sleepy fake voice.

“This kitchen is a disaster!”

Me: What are you talking about? I hid the evidence. I knew I needed to stay silent.

“Were you making cookies?

Me: How does she know this stuff? Silence…………

“Where did you hide the stuff?” She looked around and likely saw a fingerprint on the oven door.

Then I remember the oven door opening and the angry voice lecturing me for what seemed like a week. But thankfully dad came home and sent me to bed.

Now that I am a parent myself, these are the thoughts that run through my head:

  1. Why would the babysitter let an 8 year old bake cookies unsupervised?
  2. Obviously mom saw the flour dust all over everything. What is clean to an 8 year old is not clean to a mom.
  3. Why didn’t my parents just lock us up under the stairs to go out? We tortured babysitters for fun. How we make it out of our childhood alive is beyond me.
  4. I always thought my mom was crazy about cleanliness – I still do.
  5. Why did my parents change babysitters so frequently? Did the girls just say no? I would – but to be fair, I could talk those girls into anything and I think they didn’t expect that from a kid. I was the evil emperor of kids needing supervision. Let’s face it, after every girl in Sherwood Park failed and became brainwashed by my charms, there wasn’t a whole lot for them to do. They became powerless. I would put my sister to bed, I would talk my brother into running away or hiding or really – anything to make the sitter never wanting to come back. I’m sure my parents paid well, but sometimes no job is EVER worth it.

Meanwhile, my daughter just made cupcakes that taste like cough syrup and I am proud like I am raising a little me. Luckily her grandfather lives a block from the school, so when her friends don’t eat the cupcakes – he will.

And the family tradition continues….only the dirty dishes better not be hidden in the stove.

Wishes on Stars ALWAYS come true for me

wish-upon-a-starI know a lot of people don’t believe in wishing on stars, people are hopeful, they want to believe but it usually doesn’t work out for them. I have wished twice upon a star. Both times they have come true. That is a 100% wish successful rate. So one would think that if you wished on a star for everything you want, you would be filled with bountiful wishes right? I don’t think it works that way. I think you have to respect the star and respect the wish.

My first wish is turning 17 tomorrow.

17!

My second wish turns 15 in two weeks.

15!

I am thankful my wishes came true in separate pay periods, that was just smart planning on my part. This weekend’s events have me thinking about my birthdays as a teen. I cannot remember my 17th birthday nor do I remember my 15th birthday. Odd. I usually have a very vivid memory of my past. What I do remember are not major events but incidental moments that make up my childhood.

My dad married the girl next door, down the street and around the corner when he was a kid. After 46 years of happily-ish married bliss (lets be honest, 46 years is a long time to be happy every stinking day. It doesn’t happen like that. But my parents ARE great friends and still do TONS of stuff together. Luckily they don’t play old people sports like bridge, lawn bowling or canasta. There is still time for that though…) When I came a long, we lived within walking distance of both my grandparents homes. I was one of those lucky kids who had 2 grandmas, 2 grandpas and a great grandma and a great grandpa. Most of my friends only had one or two, I had the collectors set.

I remember Sunday dinners, sleep-overs, craft days, stages productions, Barbie bliss and general good times at both homes. Eventually we moved away to the Arctic (I know, insert pity party here —>     ) and what I remember most was missing my grandparents. When we moved home, my brother and I were placed on an Airplane and met in Edmonton by my Grandfather. I remember the sense of relief at the age of 6 to be met by that hug. They took me home to their house and the fun times resumed. But I missed my other Grandparents terribly. When I eventually saw them, more fun times ensued.

When we moved back to Edmonton for good (I know…but it is PARADISE compared to the Arctic) I lived a bike ride away from my Grandma. Believe it or not, I was the opinionated kid of the family and often disagreed with the way my parents bestowed RULES upon me. Injustice raged through my veins so I always called my Grandma – she loved me and she would rescue me.

11992_480000418736931_982256907_n

 

I would ask if I could sleep over. The answer was always yes. The green chip bowl was always ready with Old Dutch BBQ and Carol Burnett was always brought to you by Kraft. When I wished upon the star many years later, that was part of my wish. For my wish to have the same relationship with their grandparents as  I had with my grandparents.

It mostly came true. The grandparents were only on my side, but they came with extras. One great grandma each and a great grandpa who was EXACTLY like Carl from UP.

up-carl-russell-characters

My grandpa and my son

 

I moved down the street and around the corner so my wishes could visit and run away every chance they got. One wish goes there after school every thursday to hang out. One stops by for milkshakes on a regular basis. There was a suitcase packed and one ran away to grandma once, and many movie and sleepover nights were held. The grandchildren even had their OWN bedroom at Grandma’s house.

So now that my first wish is 17 tomorrow, I asked him how he wanted to spend his birthday. The reply was, “Dinner at (favorite restaurant) and invite Grandma and Grandpa.” No family or friend party? No cake or donuts?

“No, just a really good steak and grandma and grandpa.”

I am living proof that wishes come true. Sure I augmented it by moving close to my parents but what kind of mom would I be if I didn’t at least try to provide the circumstances that enhanced my childhood?

Happy Birthday Wish #1 xoxoxox

My new plans are Astronaut inspired

Astronaut Chris A. Hadfield Mission Specialist...

Astronaut Chris A. Hadfield Mission Specialist Canadian Space Agency (CSA) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

I am a huge fan of Col Chris Hadfield. I talk about him before. There something so amazing to me about being able to chat with an astronaut in space! That is something I never thought I would be able to do, yet Saturday on Reddit, it happened. Well, none of my questions were answered but I had a chance to read what was going on and became a bigger geeky fan than I already was.

 

At one point during the chat time Col. Hadfield wrote this:

 

ColChrisHadfield[S] 40 minutes ago
Decide in your heart of hearts what really excites and challenges you, and start moving your life in that direction. Every decision you make, from what you eat to what you do with your time tonight, turns you into who you are tomorrow, and the day after that. Look at who you want to be, and start sculpting yourself into that person. You may not get exactly where you thought you’d be, but you will be doing things that suit you in a profession you believe in. Don’t let life randomly kick you into the adult you don’t want to become.

 

That was a very profound statement. Two years ago, I did just that. I got off my butt, turned off the TV and went back to University so I could grow up without regrets. I changed my lifestyle habits and now am a runner. I am pretty sure I won’t go to space but I do know there aren’t any goals out there that are not achievable  It just may take longer to attain than reaching other goals. I realized age has nothing to do with goal setting and achieving, the only thing you need is a time line.

 

Sitting there saying “one I day I would like….” is not the same as, “I am going to do this, and these are the steps I need to get there.” One is about wishes and one is about action. Wishes are lovely but don’t come true without hard work and sweat. I don’t want to hear people telling me I am lucky – luck had nothing to do with my life. Hard work got me here.

 

The problem with goal setting is plans and time-lines can get big huge speed bumps in the middle.

 

One of my major goals this year was to run the 10k in Edmonton the day after my birthday with my dad. Well, apparently he is going to be a little busy that day. His daughter is planning on a big wedding or something fancy that day and he will be busy – I likely will be busy too seeing she is my sister and all. THAT was a big wrench in my plans. The old me (pre-Edmonton Tourist Project Days) Would just cancel the plan. The new me started searching for a new 10k to run. I realized running in Edmonton wasn’t the big deal, running the 10k was. And it couldn’t be ANY 10k because truth be told, I am a medal whore. I need bling. I want one of these for my birthday:

 

Give_a_girl_the_right_pair_of_shoes_30_x_1

 

 

 

I love shoes and I love medals, so my quest to have both has now begun.

 

Calgary, which is 3 hours south of me, is having their big marathon weekend May 26th. That is my Dad’s 65th birthday. I asked him if he wanted to run it with me. He asked me if there is a t-shirt – YES. That is all he cares about, a T-shirt, better yet – a TECH shirt! This race has a medal, so it’s a win for him and a win for me! YAY! My dream of running a 10k with my dad will happen this year and on HIS birthday!

 

Then I was thinking, if I am running a 10k 3 months ahead of schedule, then why couldn’t I run the Edmonton Intact Half Marathon in August? No reason I couldn’t, the worst case scenario is if I can’t run the whole thing, I can walk the rest. I’ve walked it with a stress fracture, so I think this year would be faster with lots of running thrown in. I plan to run 10 and 1s. Doable. I have gone to feeling sad and a little disappointed to super excited because I now have a plan.

 

Just like Col Hadfield said,

 

You may not get exactly where you thought you’d be…

 

That is true, this was not part of the plan, but the goal hasn’t changed. Just the steps needed to achieve the goal.

 

I am feeling great about this new plan!

 

Save me: Intervention Time

Intervention

I have never been a part of an intervention before. I have only ever seen them on TV sitcoms. Usually a bunch of friends gather at the person’s home who needs help, accuse them of a bunch of stuff and demand they change. Sounds awful.

I need one.

I was the person who would have coffee with my best friend and tell her our friendship would be over if she didn’t take her Christmas lights down – because it was February for crying out loud. To be fair, it is always -gazillion degrees F and no one wants to be on a ladder in a blizzard. Yet I judged her and everyone else on the street.

I was the person who mocked people when they confessed that their Christmas Tree didn’t come down by January 7th – I gave them a week after New Year, I was being kind. You see, I grew up in a home where the Christmas Tree came down on Boxing Day (December 26th for those who don’t celebrate it) Because my mom always said, “when Christmas is over, it is OVER!” Sometimes she would take it down right after Christmas Dinner because…say it with me…”When Christmas is over it is OVER!”

Well…

Guess what?

Karma is real and present in my life.

Today is January 31, 2013 and my Christmas tree is still in my living-room in all her Tiffany & Co glory. She is still beautiful. I No longer light her up because THAT would be wrong, it is January 31st for goodness sake.

Not that excuses are okay, but I have a few. School is nuts, I started my own consulting business and THAT has kept me super busy. Lets face it people, I also have a life! I read, I run, I go out for coffee, I am a busy girl!

The good news is, my daughter is just like me. She will pick up odd jobs and hoard her money away. I may have to hire her to take it down. I know, I should just TELL her to do it, but that will only work if I help. Typically she has a host of other chores she must do because to live in THIS family, one must contribute to keep the house running. The Christmas tree is not part of that…or is it?

My home has fallen apart. I have laundry drying in the kitchen, clean dishes sitting in the drip rack, the vacuum sitting at the front door, dust bunnies lurking in corners, and here I am blogging instead of doing something about it.

The solution? I could invite people over, that usually motivates me to clean up. I could hire someone – but that costs money and I am cheap. I could ignore it – I am AWESOME at ignoring, or I can rely on my friends to come over and give me the stink eye and shame me. It may come down to that – SHAME ME INTO TAKING DOWN THE TREE!

Wow, and just when I thought I had it all going on, clearly I am delusional.

Please, this is my cry for help, save me.

Happy Ending?

happily-ever-afterHow do you end life events?

This question was posed to me during a class I took. I thought about it for a while then I had an answer.

It depends.

I know, I know…what kind of answer is that? Well, it’s an honest one. I was in a relationship where I ended it badly. SO badly that it didn’t really end for the person I was with. They hung on – endlessly. Not cool and not kind. Actually, it was cruel on my part to end it that way. I was vague, ambiguous and heartless. In my head I had mentally separated from them a long time ago. and I couldn’t figure out why it was taking them so long to figure it it. DUDE – IT IS OVER.

Then it happened to me. I was in a different relationship. I did something I shouldn’t have, told the person what I did. I expected them to be really angry and tell me to get lost. They didn’t. They left it open and not in a good way. They had mentally checked out but never told me they did. Then they drifted away. I was begging them for forgiveness, give me some attention, need me and want me. They didn’t. They checked out. Even when I would do the big good-bye letter, they would say “no no no…I care for you deeply – blablabla – I don’t want it to end  – blablabla -”What they meant was “I like you in my life on my terms not yours. So I will contact you when I need you but ignore you when you need me. This is the only way we can still be friends.” That was the WORST ENDING EVER. It still hurts thinking about it a billion light-years later. I move from wanting to hug them if I see them to wanting to punch them in their face. It’s not like this happened yesterday – this was eons ago and it still resonates as a BAD ending.

Then there is those jobs where you get fired or laid off. I was selling men’s suits out of high school. The manager called me up on the phone, while I was at work AND TOLD ME I no longer needed to go back. There were no more shifts for me. I was the only one in the store. I could have walked out and he would have been screwed! But I stayed and finished my shift. THAT WAS A BAD ENDING! It turned out that store was closing. He could have told me that, or he could have come and said it to my face, yikes – on the phone?

Maybe it is surprise endings that people don’t enjoy. When a vacation comes to an end, you know it’s coming. It isn’t a surprise – you may not like it but it still isn’t surprising. You have anticipated this. So this is not a bad ending – it just isn’t as pleasant, unless you hated your vacation. I have had vacations that were hideous and couldn’t wait to get home to my own bed….but that is a story for another time.

Is it possible to have a happy ending? Maybe? I think it depends on the delivery of the ending. Surprises suck, at least they do for me. I need to be mentally prepared for ANYTHING. If you are getting me a puppy for Christmas – I want to talk about it first. If you are planning a surprise party for me… don’t. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHOCOLATE don’t surprise me with a party. If you bought me a trip to Disneyland for a week? I think I would be okay with that. But if you bought me a trip to Tokyo to visit Disney Sea and are surprising me with it…I wouldn’t be too excited. I would be scared. The sick scared. I need to plan and visualize and be prepared for that kind of event. Disneyland in California or Walt Disney World in Florida are fine because I know what to expect. It is within my scope of knowledge. Now this isn’t to say that I am not okay with new things, because I am. I like change and variety – but I need a heads up.

Happily Ever After isn’t an ending. That is still the middle part. The end is when the Prince dies, finds a new job in a different city and you don’t want to move, the Prince finds a replacement and fires you or the Prince gets sick and it ends badly. So what has to happen to have a happy ending? Ending doesn’t mean it has to happen the way you want it to. All it means is its OVER. Time to have a new beginning. To have a happy ending you need respect and kindness and perhaps empathy. You can figure it out so it doesn’t end badly.

At any rate, Happily Ever After is not an ending.

But I think it can end happy.

See Ninja Run

com.tgb.mj250beebdbe3e43_spApparently it is cold right now in North America. Everyone seems to be complaining about colder than normal – what ever that is – temperatures. That is not the case here in Edmonton. It’s cold but be haven’t had a deep freeze that was -30C or colder for a week or more, not that I am complaining! There is a ton of snow and the weather guy says ambiguous things like Snow tapering to Flurries. Oooooooooookaaaaaay. Translation? 5″ of snow by Thursday. Even I have taken a turn shoveling the driveway and I never do. It was always in the back of my mind that it was ‘boy’ work. But truth be told, I was never fit enough.

Until this year.

I have been in training for some runs coming up this summer. I was always a walker and a swimmer, but I have learned running is very different. In some ways it’s easier than walking. A) it’s over quicker and B) it isn’t as painful for my MCL  - weird but my coach told me that is not unusual.

Running has made me stronger. Abs, legs and back all benefit from just running, but the extra stuff I do helps too! How do I know this?

I dropped my eldest of for his Final exam today at his High School. I parked the car, and decided to run in that neighborhood. It is more sheltered than the open fields of my usual trails and the wind is wicked today with windchills reaching -20C. After last week’s Flash Freeze I have been cautious about slipping on the ice. Sure I run with YakTraxRun, a spike and spring combination for my shoes, but with ice-rinks on the roads and sidewalks, I still find myself slipping a bit.

I did a drive through of the neighborhood first so I wouldn’t get lost. I hadn’t explored this place since my grandparents lived here when I was a kid. Good plan too, I got lost. But once I tuned into my Ninja sense of direction it wasn’t a problem.

I ran mostly on the road because there was a good solid snow pack that had my cleats digging in. I was solid. Then came the final half block. This half block was on a major bus route so running on the road was not an option. My foot found ice under the snow, not once but four times! The first time it caught my off guard and I fell. I fell in a weird  Ninja-like way – it was like a plank or a push up. Not a problem, I do those every day. I didn’t hit the sidewalk except for my hands. The next 3 times I slipped I had it under control. I am now fit enough to use muscles to prevent myself from going over! YAY! Ninja Inner thigh magic held me upright. I think I will pay for it tomorrow, but today I am loving my new found strength! Obviously my Ninja skills are paying off.

Not only do I run in Ninja black, I have the skills to terrify the average pedestrian with my Ninja runner moves. Eventually I will be Ninja fast, you will only think you saw something as I run by. But that is a goal for this summer.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

I have a fitness and lifestyle blog here if you wish to take a gander at it. It is running and nutrition reports that keep me on task. You can find the link here.

My hair is nicer than Barbie’s and its about time

When I was 6, I received ‘Quick Curl Barbie’ for Christmas. Likely because she had curly hair like me. I didn’t have friends who had curly hair, they all had the lovely long straight blond hair of the 70′s. The kind that Jan and Marcia Brady had. I was a curly head brunette kid, who looked like a boy because of my short locks (Thanks Mom!).

Quick Curl Barbie was beautiful for one day. She had  synthetic hair with strands of wire woven into it. This was to ‘hold’ the curl in place – kind of like weaving pipe cleaners through your hair for that Pipi Longstocking look. Barbie came with a pink brush, comb and curling wand. Give those tools to a 6 year old and soon the beautiful Barbie had rats moving into her hair. The ends became all matted and knotted. Basically it looked like crap for the rest of the Barbie’s natural life. Funny…so did mine!

Quick curl Barbie #4220

Quick curl Barbie with new hair

Quick Curl Barbie the next day

Quick Curl Barbie the next day

Some time between starting this blog back in 201o and today, I lost my curl. I no longer have the tight curls of my youth except for the nape of my neck. Those critters are still curly like my baby curls. If I don’t flat-iron my hair, I have thick or big hair. It’s still straight but just bigger. Swimming made a mess of my hair and my hair dresser reprimanded me regularly. I decided I needed to let my hair grow out so I could get a proper cut. My hair had become the exact same as Quick Curl Barbie. Wiry, stiff and a weird not blond colour. It had grown past my shoulders – only when I straightened it could you tell it was that long, and I was tired of the ugly hair. Time had come for an appointment to cut it all off.

I went into the stylists and told her what I had been doing and why. Then I said, “I trust you, do what you need to do to fix it and I want to look sassy because, quite frankly I need hair to match my personality.” She told me she loved it when she was given free rein, and off to the sink we went.

Hair Stylist – “So tell me, how blonde were you as a kid? Because the blonde is holding up really well!”

Me – “I have never been blonde in my life”

HS – “um…yes you are.”

Me – “WTF? 45 and NOW I get the Long Blonde Straight hair of my dreams? Oh sweetie, that is GREY hair mixed with my BROWN hair.”

HS – “If we add some foils of Dark Brown and Blonde, use your natural colour as the base, you will look like you have always been blonde.”

Me – “Do it.”

So not only do I have the best cut I have ever had in my life (from a girl who was BORN IN THE 90′s!!), I now have long straight hair and will look like I am a natural blonde with highlights and lowlights by Thursday. Dreams DO come true.

Suck it Barbie, my hair is now NICER than YOURS.

2013 is close, time to get cracking on setting some new goals!

December 29th and I am reading my last book of my 50 book goal this year. It feels good to know I finished out a goal I’ve set. My other goal, to run a 5k race didn’t pan out as planned. Recovery took the wind out of my sails. I am not a resolution maker, I am a goal setter. To me there is a tremendous difference. When I began the Edmonton Tourist Journey in the Summer of 2010, I had no idea where it would lead me. Learning to set goals has been life changing. Continuing in the tradition of the Edmonton Tourist, new goals need to be set of this upcoming year.

Resolution or resolve means to me thy will be done. In other words, I said I’d do therefore it should be and will be done. Where as goal setting is a bit different. To me it is something to work towards. To set a goal with the hopes of achieving it, plans have to be made.

My #1 goal for 2012 is to run in the Intact 10k and grab myself a medal. I can’t just run that the day of without training. I need to map out my fitness strategy and work towards that goal. Writing it down is a huge part of it as are the steps involved to achieve it. Improving my fitness level is part of that and I want to be FAST. Knowing that, I will be slow at first means big plans have to happen.

Step 1: continue on my weight-loss journey. I started this road back in January 2011, with the ups and downs I’ve had, I am proud to say I have managed to keep all the weight off I have lost so far and am committed to losing more. I don’t look at it as dieting but as a lifestyle change. It has become mostly habit with some minor indulgences. My new dietitian is brutal, kind and supportive. If I follow her advice, there is no doubt in my mind I can be another 40lbs lighter for the 10k race. That to me is fantabulous!

Step 2: Plan out my running schedule. I have a couple of on-line coaches. They give me advice and support my slowness due to injury. The plan is to run a 3 day schedule with a 2 day cross train, building up to 5k. This is so doable. I was there, then I needed to stop. I’ve been back out on the trails recently to see how my fitness level is. Well, it’s better than I hoped but it will still require some regressive steps to regain what I lost. For the record, illness sucks. Tomorrow I hit the trails for Day 2 of my 6 week plan.

Step 3: Run a 5k race. Running the race means I will be comfortable at a 5k pace long before I run the actual race. The plan is to be at a comfortable 7 0r 8 km distance by then so 5 km will feel easier to me. The race has been chosen by my Book Club Compadres, 2 are planning to run it with me and the others want to walk it. Color Me Rad happens in Calgary this year in July. We will make a weekend out of it that includes more fun than the race, but the race looks like more fun than I have had running EVER…and I like running!Color Me Rad

Step 4: Run the Intact 10k on marathon weekend.

Along the way I will need new running shoes as my Adidas wear out. My course load for University will finally end and all that will be needed is to fit in a practicum. This will bring to an end of a long term goal I set back in 2010. It feels good to set a goal that long ago and have it nearly completed! I will need to set up some goals for the fall as well. Nothing is worse than completing a major goal and have nothing to shoot for at the end of it. So The plan is to begin training for a half marathon – run it this time. Walking takes me too long. Running a half marathon will happen 2014, so that is a ways off, but I need to have it in my mind for visualization purposes. Because THAT’S how I roll!

So tell me…what goals are you thinking about and how will you achieve them?

A Hard Truth: I am the family cat

1020_1320945478

I learned some hard truths this Christmas. Apparently I am the family cat. And here you thought I was people! Well, I guess I had us both fooled.

It all started Christmas Eve, the family was gathered at my brother’s home for dinner and small gifts from the Grandparents to warm us up for the big festivities the following day. My family is hard-core. We meet for every meal in a two-day period. Mostly because we like each other and we like to laugh. The secondary reason is to complain and grumble about stuff we all understand and can sympathize with. The third reason is to eat and open stuff we love because if nothing else, my family puts TON of thought into gifts, the presents are meaningful. Try it sometime, its awesome.

Anyway…

After dinner we were sitting around the living room admiring the Charlie Brown Christmas tree, first tree my brother ever put up, when we started talking about the pets. My youngest nephew (who stands 6’4″ and 225lbs) asked his dad for a puppy for Christmas. He wasn’t interested in a girlie dog, but wanted a manly dog. My mom thought my nephew should get one because his dad (my brother) had every pet he ever wanted. To be fair, my brother look better care of all those pets than he has ever taken care of anything AND my brother is a great guy, so those pets were well-loved. He had Guinea pigs, hamsters, fish, rabbits, and dogs (one dog at a time). My brother does not want a dog anymore because he is tired of looking after animals. My nephew argues that he would look after it and my brother doesn’t buy that story. In the end, he is right, my brother will eventually fall in love with the dog and be the sole caretaker.

This story had us talking about the various dogs that tried to kill us, would run away as soon as the door opened or would fight the ravens back so we could enter the house. All of them great dogs except the one that tried to kill us. Grandpa took him back to the original owner.

These stories reminded me of this video called Cat-Friend vs Dog-Friend. I was telling my dad about it, when he said “You are the reason we never had a cat. You were the Cat of the family.” WTF DAD! OUCH! Then I thought about it. He was right. Everything I did, I had a cat attitude. I invite you to watch the video and when you see the yellow words that spell CAT – substitute that word in your head for Edmonton Tourist and you will have a pretty good idea who I was as a kid.

This was posted by @hilariousted on twitter, I see them the same way too:

How I see dogs: Beagle, german shepherd, poodle, bulldog, labrador. How I see cats: Cat, cat, cat, cat, cat .

Hope you are enjoying the holidays as much as I am!