On Curling (hair, not rocks) and Tuesdays

Yeah, so I’m about to run off to bed, but I wanted to post something quickly. We’re holding our Workplace Health & Safety 2012 Conference, so I was being all conference-y today.

Today being Tuesday, I also taught my last class of Yoga Ballet Bend & Stretch at Oak Bay Rec. I called the desk, fervently hoping that there would not be enough students for the next session to run, but alas! The class is a go.

Don’t get me wrong, my friends: It’s not that the class hasn’t been fun. It’s just that it takes more prep and has fewer students, so it’s more work/time, less pay (not that it’s just about the money, but when we’re tallying up pros and cons, it counts) and quite frankly, as I’ve mentioned before, I’m too darn busy. I was hoping to reclaim my Tuesdays, since the class is smack dab in the middle of the night (7–8:15 pm).

Anyway, whatever. It’s running, so I decided that rather than wallow in it, I’ll get stoked about it instead. I tried wallowing and it wasn’t much fun. So now, I’m trying to wrangle up as many students as possible, to make the class as fun as possible. The more, the merrier, right? We’ll see. At least I’ll be done in another 8 weeks, which will also have seen the end of my Camosun class (another good thing, but still another thing, nonetheless). Basically, my weeknights are gonna feel free like Hermes in a sunbeam, all at once. It’s going to be amazing. In 8 weeks, I mean. It’ll be amazing then.

Oh and also, I’m curling my hair in a creative way that my friend Annie told me about. I have a sneaking suspicion it works better when you have longer hair. Time will tell. More specifically, about 7 hours will tell, because that’s about how long I’ll be asleep on this experiment (also known as my head).

Ciao, guys!

Star Trek: Original Series, Original Awesome.

So, Adam and I have been watching the original Star Trek series. And it is awesome. There’s no other word for it.

The makeup is amazing. And by amazing, I mean terrible. Especially since all species’ physical attributes are portrayed solely through the use of eyeshadow. It seems the more evil you are, the worse your eyeshadow will be. If you have several layers of colour, you’re up to no good. Makeup artists had clearly not developed the blending techniques we see today.

It’s kind of fascinating, actually, to see how much TV has changed in 50 years or so. We’ve been trying to sort out whether this was meant to be incredibly campy, or if that’s just our perception of it, because we’re used to, um, more evolved special effects. Oh yeah, and plot lines. I’ve grown accustomed to plots in episodic television.

I’ve gotta say, even though I like The Next Generation best (followed closely by Voyager), we just can’t stop watching the original series. I think it might be the pants. You know, those short ones, with the ruffle on the bottoms. I wonder if Lululemon will ever make similar pants. If they did, they’d probably look ridiculous, but I’d probably still buy a pair. Don’t judge, guys.

In other exciting news, I started to bake brioche, and by started, I mean that I read the recipe. I decided it would be too onerous, so opted instead to make a fool-proof Italian loaf with parmesan and black pepper. It did not work. 100 percent of the time, my bread only rises roughly 50 percent of the time, choosing instead to become an excellent building material for villages in third-world countries, as opposed to a delicious baked treat. Yes, people, I’m anthropomorphizing my bread. It’s fine. We’re going to use this loaf to prop the door open when we bring in the groceries, which will include bread from the bakery, which we buy because 100 percent of the time that we buy it, it’s risen 100 percent of the time. Statistics. So intuitively obvious.

Lazy Sundays.

Are the best. I could do with a week of them right now. The first thing I’d do is find a delicious recipe for brioche. There is something so magically rewarding about making bread. And then eating it.

I think my bread machine has a brioche recipe, but I’m hesitant to test it out, after the great cinnamon bun debacle of 2008. Those things were solid. Could’ve been used in creating the foundation of a house. I’ve since redeemed myself with The Best Cinnamon Buns ever (two for two, actually), which I found online. The recipe said it was a dead-ringer for Cinnabon. Who am I to argue? Oh man, those are really good. Now I want them, but it’s Lent.

Brioche, on the other hand, would just be a delicious little bun that I could eat right now. Like seriously right now. ASAP.

I’m off to dream about French sweet breads. I’ll keep you apprised of the developments.

I are friends with wirds.

Yeah, so today was a sad day for my professional wordsmithing skills. Let me explain, but first let me just point out that I realize it’s technically tomorrow, so I missed a day of blogging. However, I haven’t gone to bed yet, so I’m counting it as Saturday. My blog, my rules.

Back to my vocabulary issues: Adam and I were over at Nicole’s place, having a games/appies night with some awesome people (I hang with the best of the best!). We started out with Catchphrase, which also was the way we ended the night. Actually, we just played it for, I don’t know, maybe 17 hours straight? (slight exaggeration, but it was at least several hours)

This game is like trivial pursuit, mixed with cranium and charades and a healthy dose of hot potato. It’s the best fun. We’re going to need to get it. We’ve been meaning to get some fun games for a while. This one allows conversation and is hilarious. Basically, you get a catchphrase and have to get others to guess it, but you can’t use the words from the answer. This gets quite tricksy. There are moments where we each shone like the Rainman, and moments that were much less inspiring.

My stellar low was when I was stuck finding an antonym for “on”. I went through every other preposition I could think of, getting the team to shout the opposites of “in”, “behind” and “under”, even mentally switching to a French song I knew from childhood. I did not succeed. Clearly, I was over thinking, though I may just have been overtired.

Anyway, after losing the point, I cried out, “what is the opposite of ‘on’?”, to which everyone replied, in chorus, “Um, ‘off’?”.

Right. Off.

I work in communications. I’m a writer. With an MBA.


Aaaand, it’s Friday. Hallelujah and a haircut.

So, today was a day. Normally, Friday and I are BFFs. See, I was born on a Friday, so I’ve always been kind of partial. Today, though, was looooong. Also normally, I work from home on Fridays, but since I needed to coordinate with a coworker, I decided to go into the office so we could collaborate up a storm.

This is not what happened. To begin with, I slept in, thus missing my yoga practice again and setting up a decent amount of pre-breakfast irritation. I didn’t even get up and have breakfast, because I relocated from the bedroom to the living room couch, where I read for a mere 10 minutes. Weirdly, though, the clock felt it was longer than 10 minutes, so suddenly it was nearly 8 am and I still hadn’t showered. Nice.

I packed my jogging stuff (pronounced “yogging,” which, just for the record, WordPress just autocorrected to “hogging”. Interesting.) so I could go for a lunchtime run. This also did not happen, because it was gross and yucky outside. I’m not actually a total rain wuss, because I can run in the rain, get soggy, but then warm up with a hawt shower and then continue the warming in my sweatpants (there will be an entire post, or possibly many, dedicated to my love of sweat pants at some point soon). But, since I was in the office, I would just get cold and miserable and stay that way. I can’t shower in public places. That’s another story for another day. So many stories all the time. You’re welcome for me not dragging you down like 17 tangential rabbit holes in this post.

So, no run, no yoga and a general lack of motivation made me feel pretty lazy. I’m in a low-energy phase right now, so I’m not feeling super productive. I keep To-Do lists in my Charlie Brown Moleskine daytimer, so that I can check stuff off and feel a sense of accomplishment. I checked off like 5 things today, but still felt like a slacker. Go figure.

Things started looking up around 3, when I realized I was soon to be off for my haircut. Getting my hair cut is possibly one of my greatest pleasures. The head massage, the yummy-smelling product and the fact that for a brief post-salon period, my hair looks less like the styling involved a blind creature without opposable thumbs.

Due to excessive Groupon, Dealfind, Couvon and Ethical Deal purchasing (I tend to buy any yoga and salon deal), I have had to keep a pretty tight salon schedule. I’ve learned to read the fine print, because otherwise, you’re left booking 3 haircuts in 5 months, which is tricky when you’re trying to grow your hair out.

Anyway, I went to a lovely salon and had a super stylist, both of which shall remain unnamed, because, you see, my stylist kind of cut my face. Yep, I bled my own blood and everything. It was in the bang-trimming portion of the cut, just towards the end. I’ve always been nervous while getting my bangs trimmed, because they run the scissors along my eyebrow ridge. I find that my eyebrow ridge is really close to my eyeballs, which get really scared about sharp pointy tools.

I felt a little pinch and gave a little flinch (you like that?). I thought maybe it was just a pinchy pinch, but then noticed that the stylist, and consequently everyone else I talked to, was talking to me, while their eyes drifted up above my right eye, which is, coincidentally, where I felt the pinch.

In a show of Canadian politeness, I tried to hide the obviously bleeding wound, so she wouldn’t feel bad, despite the fact that I wasn’t upset and that she had, in fact, nearly blinded me (though in the nicest possible way). Maybe I’m embellishing, but then again, I was very nearly decapitated, so I am sure I’m entitled to a little more loose creativity in my creative non-fiction.

I’ve included photos, because this is a blog and that is what I should do. Enjoy.



I am too busy.

This is not a shock to anyone, apart from me. Actually, I’m aware of this, but I’m just really used to being booked up. Every now and then, though, I reach what I like to call “critical mass”. Critical mass usually occurs about 3 times each year and most recently, I reached this point approximately 3 weeks ago.

Why am I so busy? Good question, hard to answer. With what am I so busy, however, is easier for me to tackle. Here’s what’s keeping me from relaxing:

  • Work. My job is a thinker, for sure. I’ve got lots to do, lots to write, questions to answer, solutions to find, et cetera. I often work late, causing me to miss dance/yoga classes.
  • I volunteer. This is a good thing. It’s fun and I meet and work with awesome people. 4 months until showtime (www.pacifictattoo.ca). Like any work by committee, everything takes many steps and lots of emails.
  • I teach. Currently, I teach 2 classes each week. One is very low-key and stress-free, the other requires significantly more preparation, has lower turnout and is less conveniently located (both in time and space).
  • Work #2. I am working on getting some contract work I can do on the side. This is in line with my goals for my career.
  • Learning. I’m taking another design course at Camosun. This is awesome, but means on Thursdays, I’m out of the house from 8 am until 10 pm straight.

This may not look like a lot, but it is. What’s happened is that I’ve gotten burned out, which then leaves me tired and generally cranky. My schedule is so tight that it’s nearly impossible to accomplish any chores. For example, I’ve been in need of an oil change for a couple of months now, getting groceries has become nigh impossible and a trip to Costco may as well be a trip to Moscow, for the amount of planning required.

Being this busy has meant that I’ve lost touch with a few things I really value, like:

  • Sleep. Getting to bed on time has become tricky, because there’s too much to do. Since learning last year that I do not actually function on 5-6 hours, getting 7-8 has been my new rule. If I’m up too late, I can’t drag my sorry rear out of bed in time for the next thing I’m missing:
  • My fitness regime. I’m ALWAYS up at 6 am, doing yoga before work. This leaves my afternoons free for a run/dance class. Missing my mornings, because I’ve slept in, due to overtiredness, makes me VERY unhappy. It gnaws at me, all day. It feels like I didn’t get to give myself the time I need for me. Not good. This makes Bay unhappy (and then I feel fat and ugly. I realize there is more going on in this equation, but a feeling’s a feeling, so there it is.).
  • Friends/family. I have been trying to slot these very important people into the wee gaps between other engagements. It’s not fair to them and it sucks for me (because I don’t get time with people I value being around).
  • Adam. We’re like ships passing in the night, on different hemispheres. I’m always rushing out, blowing hurried (and harried) kisses from the door. My marriage deserves better, as does Adam. So do I, for that matter.
  •  I realize I need to cut back on activities. This will be hard because of things like tuition and contracts (teaching). I’m working on streamlining right now.
  • I probably can’t free up too much right now, but will be reducing my teaching (or at least just teaching where I really enjoy teaching) as soon as my current contract is up.
  • After this InDesign course wraps up in 6 weeks (first one is tonight), I’m not signing up for more classes in the foreseeable future.
  • I will pay more attention to leaving work on time.
  • I WILL get up and at ‘em at 6 am, beginning tomorrow, because hating myself for being lazy is not cool.

Those are my goals. I’m sure once I achieve them, I’ll be blogging about how bored I am with my spare time. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it…

40 Days.

It is Lent. I gave up delicious sweets, treats and desserts again (I’ve pretty much done the same forever, except for last year when I gave up Facebook). In a moment of inspiration, I decided to give up not blogging. See, I’ve decided there’s no point in writing an award-winning blog at work and then utterly abandoning my own at home.

So for the next 40 days, you’ll see one post per day. Yep, 40 posts. This will be a great way to find my dedication in my own writing. Especially on nights like tonight, when I’ve gotten in late and just want to go to bed. Yeah… some posts might be short.

I just came back from Ash Wednesday mass and was pretty confused for various parts of the service, namely, those parts where we respond. It’s like the words have changed. I mean, I know I’ve not been the most diligent church-goer this past year, but seriously, I’ve been attending mass for 31 years. I know what to say.

Thing is, it turns out they actually did change the words. I’m not happy about it, either. See, I don’t like change (well, at least not the changes I don’t like). I’m pretty flexible, but come ON! This is mass we’re talking about. The new responses don’t even make any sense. “Peace be with you” is ALWAYS responded to with “And also with you.” So is “the Lord be with you,” too. Except now, it’s “And with your spirit.” What? That doesn’t make sense. Am I no longer my spirit? Have I been separated from it as of late, without my prior knowledge and consent?

Don’t even get me started on “Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.” “It is right to give him thanks and praise” has now become “It is right and just.” The cadence is all wrong.

I need to talk to the Pope.