Don't stop believin'

This week's blog is brought to you by the letter O.. for overcoming your fears.  I want to give a shout out to my CrossFit little sister, Courtney, for getting her first muscle up this week!  In the CrossFit world a muscle up is like a unicorn - so perfectly executed and requires so much dedication it seems unattainable, getting one almost seems unfathomable and to some is only dreamed about.  Courtney has been doing CrossFit for just over a year now and has worked her way to muscle up greatness.  I on the other hand am coming up on my 3 year fitiversary and hadn't touched the high rings in months.

Seeing her make that jump to Muscle Up Goddess really got me motivated.  I convinced (well really he ended up convincing me) Coach Braiden to assist me with some transitions on the high rings on Sunday.  He was all ready to flip me up on top of those rings that hang from the extremely tall ceiling but I was stalling.  At that moment I came to the realization why I hadn't touched the rings in months.  I was frickin scared.  I am pretty scared of heights, mainly due to the fact that I'm scared of falling and hurting myself.  I try and avoid rope climbs, I stay away from practicing bar muscle ups all because I'm terrified of taking a death spiral to the floor.  I am also scared of insects, reptiles, rodents, birth, injury, needles, death, rejection and failure.. just to name a few things.  I'm so confident, right?! :s

I also realized that I don't like much of a crowd when I'm trying something for the first time whether it's a gymnastics movement or something as simple as surfing behind the boat.  For as loud and over-the-top as I am, I like to know I'm not going to make an absolute fool out of myself with something new.  Once I give something a go then I usually don't have an issue with shyness.  Perhaps that's the fear of failure coming out in me.  But let's face it - who on earth perfects everything on the first attempt?

After I procrastinated, made excuses and wasted Braiden's time for about a half an hour he finally talked me in to trying an assisted one with him.  Guess what?  It was so easy!  He tossed me on those rings like it was nobody's business.  We probably did it about 10 times and not once did I fall on my face, no cuts, broken bones or bruised egos.  Attempting something that I'd had my sights set on for a while but was too scared to try was actually a relief.

Now I am nowhere near getting a muscle up but it is definitely an attainable 2014 goal of mine, however, I wasn't going to get one in a lifetime by avoiding the rings and my fears.  Go out and try something that scares you, it's exhilarating and you may even be able to conquer your fear.  Dream big and don't forget to kick ass and take names while you're at it ;)

Baby it's cold outside

As we all know we've recently had an extremely cold weather snap. Without turning on the tv, radio or computer I knew the weather was cold. How did I know this you may ask? I stepped outside and it was cold! When I opened up my social media there were many, many posts notifying me that it was cold out. I guess what I'm wondering is, why do people feel the need to repeatedly state the obvious on these sites?  It's a well known fact on the first snowfall of the year that your Facebook newsfeed is going to blow up. Then there's the first BIG snowfall of the year. Be prepared for a Twitter frenzy. Everything winter will surely overload your computer/mobile/tablet with overly obvious updates.

Yes, the cold weather sucks.  But let's face it, we choose to live here so it's really our problem. You would think the weather complaints would end there but then when we're having an overly hot summer day/week/month the complaints start to roll in about the heat. I do believe there are these machines you can get to help cool you down. An air conditioner or something? Or my personal fav freebie.. the lake!  This is where you'll find me this summer on the hottest of summer days.

There are also the days that are spent basking in the summer sun and then some rain happens.  Take to social media people!  Alert the masses!  The rain isn't the best pump up weather but in case you have forgotten some of it is required to help promote the growth of the crops we readily enjoy to consume.

They say that weather is unpredictable but really we know better.  Summer = hot, rainy, breezy, chilly.  Winter = cold, snowy, wind chill, icy.  Sure the seasons may change more quickly at times and that is frustrating but you can't say we didn't see it coming.  At this time of year it's easy to go on a public rant about the weather but think of all the other things that we've got going on for us: health, friends, family, food, shelter, and on and on.  People don't hashtag it #firstworldproblems for nothin'!  Stay warm this winter people, summer is coming.. like it always does :-)

Token wintertime vehicle thermostat pic.
Yep, mine says the same as yours and everyone else's!

If you wanna make the world a better place take a look at yourself, and then make a change



For the last few years that I've worked at my office we have always done a Christmas gift exchange amongst the staff.  We spent $20 and ended up with some cutesie little gift that, quite frankly, we could live without.  This year we have decided that each of us will throw that money into a pot and go out and buy gifts and food for a family in need.

On November 1st it was National Random Act of Kindness Day.  I think this is a fabulous idea.  I spent my day spreading Starbucks love to co-workers and strangers alike and even had the favor unsuspectingly returned to me.  It felt fantastic!  If the day had been longer I had so many other ideas of how to spread some joy throughout the city.  A lady that I work with was so inspired that she bought a bouquet of flowers and gave them to a very touched elderly woman outside of the Market Mall Safeway.  Another woman I work with bought a stranger's lunch at Tim Horton's, where the drive-thru employee asked her "But it's $10, are you sure you want to spend that much??".  On the radio people called in to tell their stories about how they touched people's lives in some way or another.  It's the kindness of others that is truly amazing.

This blog post is going to be short and to the point.  I am asking for help finding a special family that we can spoil in Saskatoon this holiday season.  Please share this blog so we can spread the word and find someone truly deserving of this gift.  If you can think of someone, simply send me a message with the family's name, contact information and why they are the most deserving.  We will be surprising the family that we choose in the next few weeks so it is important that we receive any information about them as soon as possible.  Thank you for taking the time to read this.  Stay safe this holiday season!  Remember to live life, love lots and laugh forever.

She made us drinks to drink, we drunk 'em, got drunk

I read a fairly not-so-common sense article in the Saskatoon StarPhoenix a couple days ago called
Waiters' top 20 ways to not be a horrible restaurant customer.  I served and bartended for 8 years so there were many points in the column that I could relate to.  I worked mainly in bars and pubs but did serve a bit of food so that's why I thought I could share some of my top ways not to be a douchey customer as well.

1. Don't steal.  Ducking out on your tab, sneaking shots off the shooter tray and dipping your hand into the bartender's tip jar are all forms of criminal misdemeanours and can be punishable by law.  Received crappy service because the server was lazy or the restaurant was too busy to keep up to everyone?  Complain to management.  Trying to ditch out to look sweet?  Do you know what doesn't look sweet?  When I chase you down the alley and make you pay twice as much as you would have if you would have just been honest like a regular person.  I may run slower than a herd of sloths stampeding through Nutella on a regular day but when you dangle a $100 tab that's going to come out of my pocket over my head, you might as well call me Lighting McQueen.  You're laughing right now but this has actually happened.  I can also add that during my very long stint at a local country and western tavern I watched a customer walk away in only her bra after trying to steal from the shooter girl.  It's really not worth it.

2. Don't talk down to your server.  What is it that makes people think they are so much better than their servers?  Some of these people own businesses, are the future's doctors and lawyers.. and some just serve.  Either way nothing makes you more important than they are.  It is unnecessary to be ignorant or talk to them like they are complete idiots.  Believe it or not they know the odd thing or two, too.

3. Not every server wants to jump your bones.  Your sauve sophisticatedness does not just magically appear after multiple cocktails.  Chances are they do not want your phone number and will probably just make fun of you back by the glass washer for your feeble attempt once you have vacated the building. Save yourself the embarrassment and just don't.  Simple words to live by, you can quote me if you like: "just don't".  It's pretty much the exact opposite of Nike's ad campaigns, perhaps that will help you remember.  You want to know what else is a criminal offence?  Sexual assault.  There is a wide range of things that fit under sexual assault but let's keep it simple and just say DON'T TOUCH YOUR SERVER.  In any way.  Ever.  Keep your creep comments to yourself as well.  Just because you're thinking it doesn't mean you have to say it.  Use your filter - if you are in a bar it is because the government has deemed you mature enough to be there so do us all a favour and act like it :-)

4. Be understanding.  People make mistakes so if your server brings you the wrong drink or forgets something, it is not the end of the world.  Heaven forbid you were brought regular soda when you ordered diet.  Guess what?  They can bring you a different one.  Problem solved... hooray!  There are children starving in Africa.. now that's an actual problem.

5. The inevitable tip about tipping.  I'm not going to drone on about not being a tight-ass but I am going to say that tipping servers in our country is customary.  Don't ask me why but it is.  If you don't like tipping perhaps drive-thrus are more your style.  And no, I don't know why tipping EVERY service in every industry isn't customary, I just know that this one is.  Get bad service?  Leave a bad tip.  Get great service?  Leave a tip that expresses that.  Pretty simple rules to live by like it or not.  Don't like tipping in a restaurant or bar?  Countries like Australia don't customarily tip their servers, perhaps a place like that is better suited for you.  You also may say "No one tips me at work."  That's a shame, maybe you should make a career change.  You might wonder "Why do you deserve to be tipped?".  Did you read point #1?  People in the service industry deal with shitty things!  Those are actual things that happened and they suck.  Oh and buying someone a shooter is not a tip FYI.

I know that not everyone will agree with what I'm saying but I also know that you can quit reading at any time.  I wouldn't say working in the service industry was the best time I've ever had but it's one of those things I'm glad I did.  If I decided to pick up and move I always know I can make some alright money serving or bartending somewhere.  Even if you hated everything about this post I hope you took at least one thing away from it or even giggled just a little.  "Here's to you and here's to me.  The best of friends we'll ever be.  But if we ever disagree then f@#k you and here's to me!"  Cheers everyone!

Some kind of madness is swallowing me whole

I've recently read two amazing blog posts/articles by a couple of influential members of the CrossFit community: one titled CrossFit Curmudgeon Cares by Pat Sherwood and another titled Training CrossFit vs. CrossFit as a Sport by Chris Spealler. This past summer I struggled with where I fit into CrossFit and these two blogs helped put it into perspective for me. I started my journey from not knowing what the heck CrossFit was, to being obsessed with it and wanting to try to be a bit more competitive to wondering if there was even a place for me still. I was agonizing over the fact that if I couldn't be competitive with it, should I even be doing it? But why was I getting so stressed out over a fitness program?   

My first debut on crossfitbrio.com in the
Spring of 2011 doing 55 lb back squats.

I have been doing CrossFit for almost 3 years now. In January of 2011 Curtis and I both knew it was time to get our acts together and get back on the fitness train (typical New Years resolution, right?). A Groupon came up for CrossFit BRIO which we had seen a sign for and always wondered what it was. We took the plunge and bought a $50 Groupon that entitled us to 3 introductory classes and an unlimited month of CrossFit classes. What was the first thing I did after I bought the Groupon you ask? I Googled "What is CrossFit". The first video (click here to watch it) that came up was of two CrossFit athletes, Dutch Lowy and Jessica Langford, doing a workout called 'Helen'. Helen consists of a 400m run, 21 kettlebell swings (35lbs) and 12 pull-ups done 3 times as quickly as you can (which is actually one of my favourite workouts now). I hadn't run 400m since I was in track 10 years before that, and I think even at that time I barfed at the finish line. I DEFINITELY could not do a pull-up... and embarrassingly I didn't even know what a kettlebell was. Good god I was out of shape. I had never heard of this style of training and after watching the video I wondered if I had just wasted $50.


My first attempt at handstand
push-ups in December 2011.

I don't even know if Curtis knows this but I was super nervous when I booked our introductory 

20" box jumps for the CrossFit Open in March 2012.

classes with the owners of CrossFit BRIO so I booked him in for his and booked mine a couple days later so I could get the low-down before I went. I don't remember a whole lot from those intro classes (or on-ramps as they're called) except that the coach made us scale all of the movements back so much. It was a small group class at that time and he had all of us doing push-ups from our knees up against the side of a bench, squats until our butt touched a medicine ball, etc. We did these exercises for 20 seconds and then we would rest for 10 seconds for 4 rounds each (I would later learn that this time structure is called Tabata). When I left the building I felt ok; no wanting to barf, not too sore. I would even go as far as to say the workout seemed relatively easy.  They tell each of their newbies to keep their intensity level at about a 3 out of 10 when first starting so I went home feeling slightly skeptical of the training we were going to be doing in the month to come. 

35 lb kettlebell swings at the Spring Fling
competition in Regina May 2012.

I woke up the next day and I was sore as hell.  In the days to come sitting down on the toilet and 

115 lb snatch at the Spring Fling competition in Regina May 2012

walking down the stairs were a challenge. My skepticism of the program drastically changed within days. (And no, I did not have rhabdo. If I see another goddamn post about rhabdo from people who have no idea what they're talking about my head may explode.) After I completed my on-ramps I did about 10 classes during that first month and then signed up for a 2x per week CrossFit membership. It seemed expensive at the time but I knew it was working from the way my muscles were responding to the training. Eventually my 2x per week membership turned into a 3x per week membership which eventually turned into an unlimited monthly membership. Not only was I enjoying the workouts and the results I was getting from them but I was meeting some really awesome people and even making some close friends. I didn't really have an 'ah-ha!" moment, I just kept enjoying the program more and more until I was in the gym obsessively.

Doing pull-ups during the hero WOD 'Murph'
with a weight vest on in July 2012.

14' rope climbs in August 2012.

On a side note, people always wonder why CrossFit peeps go so mental over it: A) You're doing things you never thought possible; B) People are cheering you on like a rockstar over all your personal bests; C) The people you're working out with genuinely care about you; and D) You get to have muscles! I get that we're annoying. We talk about it, post statuses on Facebook, take pictures on Instagram, tweet it on Twitter... it gets in our heads. People tend to post things on social media that they spend a lot of their time doing or are proud of whether it be their kids, dogs, parties, selfies, whatever. We just happen to spend a lot of time doing CrossFit.. it could be worse!

I learned terminology and movements that I had never heard before and I started to learn my way around the gym and gained a little bit of confidence. I've used words like traps, lats and hammies more in the last few years than I have in my whole life. I had outgrown the 15 lb beginner bar and graduated to the pimpin' 35 lb 'big girl' bar. I started using the 14 lb wallball, did push-ups from my toes and even had my first encounter with a 24" box jump. After a couple of unlimited months of classes (about 6 months since my on-ramps) I finally got my first unassisted pull-up! Pull-ups are like a beginner CrossFitter's unicorn. Writing my name on the 'Chicks Who Chin' list was super exciting for me, I felt like a total badass. Gradually I even got to finally start Rx'ing some workouts (doing the workout exactly as it was meant to be done without needing to scale back any of the movements). My cardio and endurance still faltered but it was getting better and I was getting stronger and loved getting my hands on anything barbell related.  I was starting to look less like a fat kid chasing chocolate cake and people noticed - it felt great. This year I even did a 5km run without stopping to walk.  Way to not be totally atrocious, lungs!


155 lb power cleans x5 at the Bridge City
Beatdown in Saskatoon September 2012.

Just over a year after I committed myself to the sport I decided to take the CrossFit Level 1 certification. I was given an amazing opportunity to start my CrossFit coaching career doing bootcamp workouts for the place that all started it for me, CrossFit BRIO. About 6 months later I eased my way into coaching regular classes in the gym and can now be found there regularly on Wednesday and Sunday nights. I've never been short on words and I love teaching the athletes new movements and watching them do things they never thought possible. Who knew that the out-of-shape 27 year old that had meekly Googled CrossFit would turn out to be so crazy over it?!

I've had my ups and downs throughout my journey; from wanting to be slightly competitive, to getting injured due to my own stupidity, to wondering if CrossFit was the right fitness program for me. If you read the two articles I mentioned at the start of this post, I can say that I fit somewhere between doing it for fitness purposes to wanting to compete in local competitions for fun with no pressure. I like the varying programming that is offered to help me stay healthy and strong.  I can come in, participate in an hour-long class and not feel stressed out if I don't have time to stay and work on my handstand push-ups or if I have to miss a workout because something came up. I don't work out everyday but I still try to commit to 4 or 5 times a week.  I still like doing my best during workouts and although I may not be one of the beefiest beefcakes around the gym I can still make the athletes I coach proud by occasionally doing something inspiring or lifting something really heavy. I can continue to expand my knowledge on the sport and pass that along to the people that are interested in coming to one of my classes. It's not as intimidating as a lot of people think.  I started out weak, with horrible cardio and some extra inches to lose. Over the years I've worked my way up so when I hear people say "I can't come to a class and work out with you, I'm so out of shape", they now know how I feel when I have to work out next to people that are mega CrossFit beasts. Everyone starts somewhere and who knows, you may even like it? Or you may not, and that's ok too. Whatever it is that you do that keeps you healthy and happy has my stamp of approval. Taking control of my fitness through CrossFit was the first step in a lifelong commitment to my health. And hey.. not feeling absolutely horrible in a bathing suit doesn't hurt either.

Spring Fling competition in Regina June 2013.

Me and my gang

Some things are better late than never, right?  It has been out-of-control busy lately and this was the first opportunity I had to sit down and pound out my musings.  This past long weekend I had planned for a fun-filled whirlwind of activities but then I got a wicked bad cold.  I did manage to still make it out to the S3 event with my Splurge girls on Saturday night, however.  The style, shopping and spirits event was held at TCU and I will say it was very well organized and we had a ton of fun but I don't think there were enough antics and shenanigans to base an entire blog post on.  Our girls night out got me thinking about girls and their friends.  I can say that I am a girl's girl.  I spend quite a bit of time with my female companions and I enjoy every minute of it. 

Growing up in a small town where I was primarily surrounded by dudes (we fondly referred to Imperial as Guytown, Saskatchewan) I never had a shortage of boyfriends, girls were another story.  I had a small group of local ladies but I had to expand to the other nearby small towns to get my full fix of estrogen.  This is what leads me to wonder about those girls who say that they get along better with guys than girls.  First of all, you are a girl.  No one understands you better than other girls.  If it's attention that you're looking for then I totally get why you would want to surround yourself with a gaggle of ogling testosterone driven men who have one thing on their mind.  Of course they are going to make you feel important... they have one thing on their brain and that is clearly your lady parts.  Now you're thinking "No way. When my boyfriend dumped me my guy friend was totally there for me."  Is your guy friend gay?  No?  Ok, well then see my previous statement about your lady parts.

There are two kinds of girls and their girlfriends.  The ones who have their core group of besties that they've had since forever in which it would take an army of highly trained snipers to make their way into that group.  They might let you hang out with their crew from time to time but there is no way that you are making it into their iMessage group chat unless there is a big party coming up that they need your help planning for.  Just face it, unless you are the Messiah you are not going to be asked to be a bridesmaid in any of their weddings.

The second kind of girl is the one who has lots of different groups of girlfriends.  This is the group that I fall into.  I have my back-home besties, my city besties and my gym besties.  Keeping in touch with all of these people is almost like a second job but I love being around all of them.  I always have someone to talk to, to hang out with and to send the most bizarre Snapchats to.  Narrowing this group of girls down to a handful of bridesmaids when I get married will be hard unless I want to roll 27 Dresses style.  Each one plays a significant role in my life and even if I fall off track with someone for a bit, the next time I see them or talk to them it's like we've never spent any time apart. 

People get busy with life and go through different stages at different times but I truly feel that making time for your friends is important.  There is no one certainty in life so if you have invested all of your time into your boyfriend or relied 100% on the companionship of your husband, what happens if that significant other isn't always there?  Keep in touch with your girls.  It doesn't have to be daily but don't forget that these are the people that have continued to be your bud through your best, and worst, times.

I've included some pictures of some of the girls who play such a huge part in my life and who I know I can count on if I ever need them.  If you read this and think of someone you haven't talked to in a while then send them a message, a text, an email... whatever it is don't let these people slip out of your life.

El Dia de Los Muertos

The Day of the Dead is a Mexican holiday celebrated on November 1st to pray and remember family members who have died.  At least that's what Wikipedia told me.  About a month ago my good bud, Mathew 'Sometimes-You-Just-Gotta-Isolate-A-Muscle' Hamoline, asked if I wanted to do the Day of the Dead Run with him.  He looooves to run...  and I do not.  But being the good friend that I am I agreed to the task and challenged some of my other peeps to do the same.  So many people were gung-ho to hit the slopes of Blackstrap with their running shoes, however, only Jesse actually went and registered to run with us.

A few days before the race we managed to snag our other running bud, Courtney, to get on board as well as her partner in crime, Morgan.  The thought of the crisp winter air must have scared Matt off since he ditched last minute, but he's kind of a pansy like that.  Just kidding, he ended up having to work instead.

Did I mention that this run takes place at night, running uphill?  Friday night we headed out to Blackstrap bundled up in the warmest of winter running gear to take on Mount Everest.  I mean Blackstrap.  We arrived at the starting point at 6:30p.m. and it was already trip-and-fall-worthy dark out.  I am a klutz at the best of times so dodging in and out of the trees up a hill at night is like a death sentence for someone like myself.  Or at least a recipe for a sprained ankle.

A couple months ago I had started running with our new puppy.  Coincidentally at the same time I also started having severe knee pain.  For some crazy reason I chalked it up to improper squatting, laid off the squats for a while and tried adding even more running into my regime.  It wasn't until a few weeks ago Jesse was watching me run and noticed that our bouncy pup was torqueing the bejeezus out of my knee every time I took a step.  I always knew running was bad for my health (I'm just kidding all you running enthusiasts, but seriously running with a larger dog that hasn't had much for leash training is a BAD idea!).  I've since ditched the running and am working back to my old one rep max back squat of 225 pounds.

With my banged up knee we headed out to do our 5km but I knew it wouldn't be easy.  Jesse ran with me and didn't even get annoyed when I had to slow right down for all the sharp inclines and declines.  However, he did scold me for repeatedly swearing while my knee was taking a particularly bad beating during one part of the course.  Apparently runners don't swear as much as CrossFitters do?  And by CrossFitters I mean just me.

The other nice thing about following Jesse through the trails was that he managed to trip over all of the hidden roots and stumps along the path so I knew exactly where they were and could avoid them.  Such a kind, thoughtful man that Jesse Dziad is.

The weather was MUCH nicer than it had been in the past years and I was clearly overdressed.  About 500 meters into the run I was already stripping off my jackets, gloves and toque.  Surprisingly your headlamp doesn't stay on very well with a sweaty forehead and no headwear.  As a result I have a bruise on the bridge of my nose where it came down and smashed me in the face.  Keep that in mind if you ever have to run with a headlamp. 

At the end of the race they had the BBQ fired up for all the participants and had a huge feast spread out.  The $30 registration fee was well justified as we stuffed our pockets full of mini cupcakes and hot dogs and headed to soak our limbs in the Jorgensen hot tub time machine!

It's close to midnight and something evil's lurking in the dark

I saw a tweet on Twitter today that said "Halloween this year feels a bit like a girl's birthday, we're dragging it out for more than a week".  So true.  That's why dressing up this weekend felt so weird considering it was only October 26th.  But November 2nd felt like it was way too late!  And God knows I'm too old to drag my ass out and about on a Thursday night and risk not getting my full 8 hours of sleep in.  *Sigh* so dressing up this past weekend it was. 

Originally I was planning on putting my creativity skills to work (have I mentioned I LOVE crafting??) and go as a giant, purple shower loofah.  When Friday night rolled around and I still didn't have a costume prepared I figured I better throw something together, so into the depths of my closet I went. 

Recently I had finished up every last episode of Breaking Bad and needed a series to take its place.  My friend, Jenna (the troll pictured left), recommended the show Dexter to me.  I'm currently one episode away from the series finale so DO NOT RUIN IT FOR ME.  Thank you.  You may ask, how does Dexter relate to my Halloween costume?  In one of the first seasons Rita (Dexter's girlfriend at the time) dresses up as Lara Croft: Tomb Raider and heads over to his house for a little wink, wink, nudge, nudge.  She looked pretty bad-ass and I thought I'd file that idea away for future reference.  Little did I know I would be frantically racing around my house looking for a Halloween costume a few weeks later.

Lucky for me I enjoy dressing in the color black.  I'm not some weird emo, goth chick - I just like black cloths.  And dogs apparently.  Anyways, I found a pair of black shorts, a black tank top, donned some knee high black boots and went downstairs to ask Curtis if he could guess who I was dressed up as.  His first reaction?  "Are you going as a Maguire's waitress?".  Dammit.  Without leg holsters and a 4 foot long braid it did resemble my old staff uniform at the Irish pub.  With that comment we set out for Halloween Alley on Saturday afternoon so Curtis could do his regular last-minute costume scrounge there and I could put the finishing touches on Lara.

 

Going to Halloween Alley the Saturday before Halloween is a bad idea.  Costumes are thrown all over the place, customers are panicking and grumpy and the staff has had its fill of people trying on every mask and hat in sight and fake stabbing people with the plastic swords.  I found my leg holsters and Curtis tried on every costume in the joint, finally settling on a "Caesar-esque" gown of sorts.  We got the heck out of there before we were fully engulfed in Halloween-Hell.

Once this weekend rolls around Halloween will officially be over.. all 8 days of it.  Perhaps next year I can get my creativity juices flowing prior to the night of the party?  Maybe if I invest in 30 feet of tulle now I'll have my loofah ready just in time for next year!

B-I-N-G-O and Bingo was its name-o!

As I said last week I would fill you in on our Splurge night at bingo.  On 22nd Street.  Yes, we went to the depths of the alphabet soup, the ghetto, for a night of bingo and lived to tell about it.  We should just take a moment to celebrate that fact.

Many, many things were learned Saturday night.  Lesson #1: if you want to play bingo at City Centre (the one near the Great Buffet of China) you have to be there and ready to play by 7:00pm.  If you are late you either have to wait for the 9:30pm game or you have to go to Lucky Bucks for their drop-in bingo.  So we went to Lucky Bucks.

Lesson #2: The minimum amount of cards you can play "regular play" with is 6.  Unless it's a speedo, bonanza or some other specialty game.  If you want to buy more cards you are welcome to but let me tell you those numbers are coming at you hard and fast.

Lesson #3: Make friends with the lady selling the cards.  Thank god for that sweet lady or we would have had even less of an idea of what was going on than we already did.

Lesson #4: Make sure you know what type of pattern they're looking for before you call bingo.  The serious bingo players get mad if you call a bingo for a line when it was really supposed to be a roaming bow tie.

Lesson #5: You have to call out bingo as soon as you get it, before the caller calls the next number. Regular bingo players will also get mad at you if you do this and stop the game on them.. again.

Lesson #6: No visiting.  Think of it like some sort of weird, smelly library.  If you think you're going to be a bingo newb and chat it up with your buds at the same time while you're playing, you're wrong. 100% focus is required to scan the cards for the number called all while checking to see if you have a bingo.  Things got so intense that someone could have come into the place with a gun and we may not have noticed unless the caller quit calling out numbers.

Lesson #7: Bingo is not cheap.  That place took my money, put me through the wringer and kicked my ass out the door with a headache and blurred vision.  I felt like I had been on a weekend bender and I hadn't even had a drink.  I needed a 12 hour sleep after that bingo-a-thon.

Lesson #8: There is some skill required.  Apparently I have none.  This is not just a game of chance people!  Don't let them fool you.

Lesson #9: Don't sit by anyone that looks like they've had too much to drink.  They may end up almost knocking you off your chair while you're in a dabbing frenzy.

Lesson #10: Never leave a man behind.  To get out of there alive make sure you always stick together in groups.  Just like on The Hangover we were like a wolf pack of 9 girls running around the 22nd Street bingo.

As I stumbled out of Lucky Bucks with bingo dabber running down my arms I came to the conclusion that bingo just isn't my sport.  A few of the girls are considering making careers out of it but I think I better just stick with what I've already got going on.

Who let the dogs out?

A Wednesday blog post?  I am really slipping.. I don't even know myself anymore with this late-ass post.  The Thanksgiving long weekend really messed up my deadline this week.  We had a pretty uneventful Day o' Turkey.  We gave thanks in the booming metropolis of Plunkett.  No, that's not a board game, that is an actual blip on the map.  Other than that nothing too exciting occurred which left me at a loss again for a blog this week.  I know I am going to have a ton of things to write about next week when we spend our Splurge night at Bingo.  Lord help me.  I asked the girls at work for some ideas and cutie-patootie Marie came up with the suggestion of life with our new puppy, Gracie.  Fantastic!  There are definitely lots of things I can say about that.

Recently Curtis and I adopted a 7 month old Black Lab/Great Dane cross from a rescue in Cando (just outside of North Battleford).  For months I had contemplated opening our house to another pooch.  A lot of people give me the gears about having kids but I am still not there yet in my life.  In chatting with my friend, Jinelle (who loves children and even has 3 of her own), I asked her if I was just going to be a crazy dog lady.  She made me feel better by telling me that "Dogs need moms too."  True friends never make you feel like you're losing your mind :-) I mean it's not like I was experimenting with meth or anything, it was just adopting a dog but the amount of negative comments I got from people was irritating.  Getting a second dog was an attempt to help our overly anxious 5 year old Bichon/Shih Tzu cross, Keefer, calm the eff down.  Curtis was skeptical and figured all that would end up happening was that we would have two psycho dogs instead of one.

When Gracie first arrived Keefer was definitely jealous.  She just bounced around trying to get pets
from everyone while he glared evilly at her from people's laps.  Currently at standing she is about 4' tall and is weighing in close to 60 pounds so she is no delicate flower.  She came through our house like a whirlwind jumping up at the counter and trying to get at the dishes in the sink.  For a brief moment I thought that maybe Curtis was right and started to regret the decision.

Gracie also got explosive diarrhea not once, but twice within the first 2 weeks of her stay.  And when I say explosive I mean literally showered our backyard with projectile shits.  One night I sleepily locked her in her kennel and went to bed.  When I woke up in the morning and opened the bedroom door the foulest smell knocked me back.  At the bottom of the stairs stood Gracie happily wagging her tail with what looked like chocolate pudding smeared on the carpet.  Apparently I hadn't latched her kennel all the way and she made her great escape while I was in full REM mode.  As I scrubbed our mini shag carpet that morning I really wondered what I had gotten myself into.

One of the things that kept me hopeful about the playful pup was her ability to listen.  Yes, she has a ton of energy but almost immediately we felt comfortable letting her off her leash knowing she wouldn't take off on her new family.  Within a few weeks Keefer started to warm up to her.  His behavior did a complete 180 actually.  We used to have to take him to doggie daycare due to his anxiety while we were away, even for the shortest amount of time.  Now he and Gracie spend their days lounging around at home.

I've taken Gracie to an obedience class so she's learning to walk on a leash much better now.  She was constantly pulling and with a dog her size it was hard to control her.  I can't blame her, she had come from a farm where she had full range to run outside and now she was thrown into a new house where walks outside were limited to the length of the leash.  She's actually become a great running partner now.  I can even take both of dogs and burn through the neighborhood without any worries of her jerking me around or stampeding over Keefer. 

Her listening skills have gotten even better and she has learned a few new tricks courtesy of Curtis.  She understands that the furniture, countertops and stove are off limits and that she is not supposed to eat the food in Keefer's dish.  She has really come a long ways in the month that she has been with us.  Not only did we give a home to a puppy that needed one but her and Keef are best buds now.  Anything she does, he does.  Anything he does, she wants to do.. including attempting to be a lap dog herself.  She's not perfect but she's a puppy and she has made our lives that much better with her in it!

Then you can mash. Then you can monster mash.

Tis the season to think of Halloween costumes... fa la la la la la la la la.  I was really struggling to think of blog post ideas today since nothing overly exciting happened this week.  I didn't think you guys wanted to read about my trip to the mall with my mom to help her pick out the perfect navy dress pant at Cleo.  I turned to my always creative friend, Vanessa, for help and her first suggestion was for me to do a post on "Getting Old and Turning Boring".  So helpful that girl is.  Her second suggestion was about Halloween costumes.  Perfect, something I know almost as much about as getting old and turning boring!   

Oddly enough I had already started pinning various costume ideas to my desktop in an effort to nail down the perfect costume (I LOOOOVE dressing up!).  Over the years I have noticed some changes in the way people (girls mainly) choose their duds for this special evening that only happens once a year.  Here is what I have come to understand of the female population when it comes to Halloween costumes:

Late Teens (Pre-Bar Age)
When I say late teens, in this sense, I mean individuals that aren't quite bar age yet.  If you're going to try hitting up the club scene with a fake i.d. you either need a costume that makes you look like you didn't just celebrate your Sweet Sixteen or one where you can't see your face all that well.  Or so I've heard..

Early 20's
Girls that are in their early bar-star years tend to choose costumes based on sex appeal.  Basically, the skankier the better.  If you can pair whatever costume you have with some stiletto heels or a pair of over the knee boots and the shortest mini skirt you can get your hands on in October, then that's the costume for you.  You also don't want to choose anything that requires a lot of face make up.  All that will happen is after too many beverages that sh*t is going to end up smeared all over the place, possibly even on the random who you decided to have a d-floor make out with at last call.  After all this is the only night all year that you can wear something sloot-alicious and no one can even call you out on it because it's your "costume".  Most of these are purchased and usually there is zero-to-hardly any thought put into the details of the outfit.  Price is of no object, as long as you look sexy you don't need to eat for a week or two anyways.

Mid 20's
Creativity starts to play a part in determining what you'll be wearing this night.  You want to wow your friends and Instagram followers with how much time and effort you put into this costume.  Looking like a sexpot is less of a priority and the cost of the materials does play somewhat of a role in your choice, especially when you remember how hungry you were for the month of November five years ago when you ordered that $200 sexy cat costume online.

Early 30's
If you have children, dreams of a full night's sleep after the kids go to bed in a candy induced coma is probably what's on your mind.  You may have forced your husband into a matching family Minions costume to take the kiddies trick or treating in.  If you got sucked into a gathering at a friends house you might cut some eye holes out of a bed sheet and don that as your attire just so people leave you alone for not coming dressed up at all. 

I hope at the very least this blog post made you laugh and either reminisce about the good ol' days or reminded you of someone you know.  I have 4 costume ideas on the go right now so in a few weeks you'll get to see which one I chose!

Curtis, it's your birthday. Happy birthday, Curtis!

Anyone who knows me knows I looooove birthdays (especially my own, of course).  And there is nothing that gives me greater joy than throwing someone a kick-ass party. 

For the last couple weeks myself and a group of friends have been scheming to throw my better-half, Curtis, his very first ever birthday party.  Thankfully since he works away every second week the chance for someone spoiling the surprise was cut in half.  I have never organized a surprise party myself but there was numerous times I had to stop myself from blurting out something party related (I just get so damn excited!).  I will share a few of the things that I have learned from this experience:

1. If you are planning an obnoxiously loud party make sure you invite everyone that surrounds you that you're worried about annoying.  We like some of our neighbors so obviously to avoid pissing them off/a noise complaint we added them to the guest list!

2. The party hasn't truly begun until someone pees on the carpet.  In this instance it was our new puppy, Gracie, but still I'll count it.

3. It does not matter how much food you make, it will never be enough.  25 people demolished 40 burgers, 36 buns, toppings, veggie platters, salads, chips, cupcakes.. and we still had to order 2 extra-large pizzas later that evening.  The only complaint we heard at that point, "You only ordered TWO pizzas?!".  I know better for next time.

4. Once guests start passing out the party is officially starting to wind-down.  The only concern the birthday boy had the next day was whether or not he outlasted the 2 year old toddler that was in attendance at the party.  Thankfully he did, but not by much.

5. Shooters always make a party better.  Whether it be a wedding shower, stagette, baby shower or birthday you can always guarantee that the party will be bumpin' after a few rounds of tequila and jag bombs.

6. Giving alcohol to people competing on a rented, blow-up Gladiator Joust can make them slightly
aggressive.  Definitely still rent it for the party, just ensure you have made all the required safety precautions prior to this.

7. You can max your deck out to almost full capacity.  If you're going to pile a whole bunch of people onto your deck make sure you constantly monitor the weight to deck ratio as to not have any major incidents.

8.  Wing World may ban you from ordering from there if you text them "Fries and gravy.  Stat lets go f*ck." 

9. If the birthday boy wakes up and is still drunk for the remainder of the morning you know the party was a success.

The empties have been recycled, the garbage taken out.. the only remnants of the party we had on Saturday is the fact that Apollo Jump still hasn't come to pick up the Gladiator Joust that's in our backyard.  If it's still there after work then I'm going to go round 2 on that thing and whoop Curtis' ass! 

Shopping for labels, shopping for love

Our fabulous friends Brett and Jenna recently got engaged this spring and now it was time to start the much anticipated wedding dress shopping.  We packed up the car for a 3-day mega shopathon in Edmonton.  Jenna had made and printed out our itinerary to include 8 dress shops around the city with the addresses, a list of dresses she would like to see, the appointment times and what time we would need to leave our current location to arrive on time for the next appointment.  I guess you could say she is kind of an organized person?

We hit our first stop, Shmavid's Bridal (*some names may have been changed for privacy), all fired up on a full night's rest and a tummy stuffed with a hearty breakfast.  We knew hunger and fatigue could lead to some very hangry girls and snap decisions - neither could be tolerated.  We left the first store empty handed and with only one piece of advice in mind for the staff there - if you would like someone to spend thousands of dollars on a dress, at the very least pretend like you're interested.

If you are ever in Edmonton looking for a wedding dress be sure to stop in at Delica Bridal.  The store was beautiful and their selection of gowns were hand picked by the owners.  Jenna left that store with 3 amazing dresses lingering on her mind.  I knew we would be back there to say yes to the dress, but being the quiet, reserved friend that I am I kept my opinion to myself ;)

We hit up two more stores after that.  One that was pretty dumpy - we knew no good was to come of it - and then the last one, Pure, which was very nice.  Unfortunately, by this point we had looked at so many dress that thoughts of lace and tulle and chiffon were swimming through our brains and we couldn't even think straight when we were in there.  We left exhausted but decided to get to bed early and go to 3 more stores in West Edmonton Mall the next day to continue our search for "the one".


Day two we hit up the mall with an entourage of ladies.  Jenna had her mother, Betty Anne, her
mother-in-law to be, Laurie, her sister-in-law to be, Mandy, her friend, Erin, and her two bridesmaids, myself and Krista, in tow.  We saw the same ho-hum dresses there that didn't turn our crank the day before.  Jenna kept comparing everything she put on to the dresses she liked from Delica.

In one of the stores we witnessed a scene straight out of TLC's Say Yes To The Dress.  The bride in the change-room beside us had found THE one.  Her, her mother and her bridesmaids all cried as she glow-fully paraded around the store with a huge smile on her face.  As she took the dress off she noticed the price tag.  Not only had the sales clerk dismissed her budget, this dress was twice what she wanted to spend.  Tensions rose between her and her bridesmaids as they tried to convince her to get it anyways.  At one point we overheard them say, "You can afford it, your boyfriend makes mad stacks!"  Not shockingly that set the bride, and her mother off.  Bickering ensued amongst the group and they left in a huff.

We finished our shopping, empty handed, and as we were leaving we spotted the same crew back at the bridal store purchasing her dress.  I guess she decided her boyfriend had enough "mad stacks" that they could afford it now.

As you would guess we made our way back to Delica.  Jenna tried on her trio of amazingness and everyone clapped and cheered as she said yes to the one she was going to be wearing on her big day.  Believe it or not dress stores only offer you champagne if you actually buy a dress, not just if you're shopping for one.  Weird, huh?  Bottles were popped, the credit card was swiped and we were on our way.

Below I have included a photo of our group at Delica with Jenna in her dress.  What?  You didn't think I was actually going to let you see what her dress looked like before the big day, did you?  Guess you'll have to wait until July!

Well, the race is on and here comes pride up the backstretch

Consider my horse-races cherry popped!  Saturday night my Splurge group strutted their stuff into Marquis Downs to place bids on some fine equestrian breeds, and learn a thing or two about the art of gambling.  After we dodged all the stray horse sh*t that had made its way out into the parking lot we felt luck was on our side. 

Walking into the majestic track we thought we were at the Kentucky Derby.  Surrounded by women in large hats of all sorts we wondered if we were under-dressed for the occasion.  It turned out that coincidentally both a stagette and a going-away party had both decided that the largest, floppiest beach hats were just the appropriate attire for their groups and we were just lame, costume-less spectators. 

I would not consider myself a gambler whatsoever.  I think it results in the fact that I'm too cheap to potentially lose money that I could otherwise be spending shopping.  I had been to Vegas 3 times before I had even so much as put more than a dollar in the slot machine. 

I decided that in the spirit of things I would place some bets.  My style of gambling there was based strictly on funny horse names.  Giveyourheadashake and Mygallovesgold were obvious choices.  With a minimum $2 bet I really stepped up my game putting down $3, and at one point even wagering $4.  I was on a gambling high!  The drinks were flowing and I had put down a total of $20 throughout 6 races.  I now knew how Ben Campbell felt in the movie 21 as I yelled "Winner, winner, chicken dinner!" at the top of my lungs as my winning bets crossed the finish line.  Thoughts of Quinella, Show and Place (I had no idea what any of these terms meant but I wanted to do them all!) swarmed through my head as I searched through the program to find my next lucky filly.

As the 9th race came to an end I took my tickets to the cashier to find out what my winnings had accumulated to.  $11.80.  Yup, you could say I'm pretty much a professional gambler now.  Don't be surprised if you find me there on my lunch break sporting a visor and making deals with the bookies so I don't lose the house.  Sadly, I only got my taste of the races at the very end of the season.  I guess that means I can take the winter to practice smoking menthol cigarettes and coining the term "Marquis, baby, Marquis!".