For Christmas this year I bought myself two things. (In fact, they weren't for Christmas, but I'll say that they were, because otherwise my life is sad).
I bought a faux fur coat, and a toaster!
The coat was to go with the dress I wore on New Years Eve. It is an awesome, shiny, black and cozy warm coat and I have decided that I will wear it at least once a week until it is no longer appropriate to wear a coat. I have no idea which classes I will wear it to, because only a couple of them would that be appropriate, but I will wear it none-the-less. P called me silly when I wore it home on New Years Day. As if it isn't for anything but special occasions. Umm.. hello? It was 45euro and I'm taking leaps this year and adding glitter... somehow I think if that doesn't include me wearing faux fur to teach a six year old, there is something wrong with the world. I love my coat!
The toaster was because, well, I needed one. It wasn't a requirement for my life, as I have discovered that toasting bread in the oven is possible, that wasn't a practical way to live life. Also, I have tenants now and they need to not waste energy or accidentally leave the oven on all day. So, I bought a toaster. And I have had toast and homemade jam every day since. And that makes me happier than it should, but that's perfectly acceptable.
Cheers to 2015!
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Thursday, January 1, 2015
2015: The Year of Glitter and Glam!
Happy New Year and welcome to 2015! I can't actually tell you how happy I am that 2014 is over. It was probably the worst year ever.
But now it is 2015 and I am happy to say that the theme of the year is: Take a Leap (and add some glitter). Life could change drastically for a lot of people I know this year. Both good things and bad things will change, but life will keep going on.
So cheers to a fresh year, a new start, and a better outlook for the coming year. Live happy people, and don't forget to glam!
But now it is 2015 and I am happy to say that the theme of the year is: Take a Leap (and add some glitter). Life could change drastically for a lot of people I know this year. Both good things and bad things will change, but life will keep going on.
So cheers to a fresh year, a new start, and a better outlook for the coming year. Live happy people, and don't forget to glam!
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Things That Won't Kill You
We all remember a time in our lives that we thought: "This is going to be the way I die" or "I probably won't survive this... I'll probably die" or "If I do this, I'll most likely die" (and then we do the thing anyway).
Like playing with an electrical socket when you are a child. You probably shouldn't. You've been told you shouldn't. You've even been told that it will hurt and you could die. Like my nephew, for example, who has been told on numerous occasions not to play with electrical sockets. He came to my sister one day and told her that he touched one in the playroom in the attic "Mommy, I got elestroscuted!". ... Um... Right. My point exactly.
That is an example of something that could actually kill you (especially if the voltage is high enough, or if your hands are wet, or some other arrangement of circumstances is in place.)
But there are often things that we imagine will kill us, and we say they will kill us, simply because we do not want to do them. When you are a child, you think that interrupting whatever important thing you are doing to take out the garbage will kill you. You think that walking the 15 minute walk to school on a hot day will kill you. You think that Your big brother or sister being in your room bothering you is probably going to kill you, because you will burst from the inside with rage that they are touching your things (even if they are not). These things will not kill you. They won't even hurt (unless of course you live in that part of Australia that doesn't have an ozone layer in which case, 15 minutes outside in the sun may actually kill you).
Yesterday, I was to go running in the mountains of Barcelona. Lovely place, really, with a church on top that you can see almost the entire way up, and lots of people sweating as they also walk, run or cycle up the mountain with you. I haven't run hard in probably 4 years because my knee bothers me if I run too hard or too long. So a woman from the gym asked me if I would like to go running with her (on a Saturday) in the mountains and I hesitantly agreed, mostly because I felt pressured to go, and partly because an actress friend of hers who does voice-over dubbing was going to go with us, so it would be a good chance to meet this person and maybe network. The friend cancelled. Of course. I was sure that this mountain run was going to kill me. Hot sun, hills, heat, sweat, being sociable (talking and running is one of the hardest things I think you can do- there is no way to sound normal while running, and breathing becomes even more laboured).
So we went, just her and I, and it wasn't so bad because she took me to a part that wasn't as hilly, and we took it pretty easy. There was never a moment on the mountain where I thought: "yes, I'm going to die up here for sure" but there were times when I thought I wanted to kill her. People don't seem to understand that while other people become very laboured in their breathing, and their shoulders slump and they sweat like crazy when they workout really hard, I am different. Through theatre I became very, very aware of my body and what it can do, and what its limits are. When I workout, I push myself, but not to the point of possible injury. I make sure that whatever I'm going, I am keeping my form correct, and breathing properly. I am also very aware of my breathing, and how important it is to breathe steady breaths while working out. I have trained myself to be hyper aware of that. I am also not a very sweaty person. So while running yesterday with this woman, I told her I needed to stop for a minute. Her reaction was: "but you're not even sweating, and your breathing is fine, and you are still keeping your form, you can't be that tired!" But yes, I can be. I'm not a wimp, and I actually pushed myself much further than I thought I would be able to yesterday, but my heart is not used to running, and neither are my legs. So when I tell you I need to stop, then trust that I know my body and stop!
Anyway, all of this was to say that running in the mountains won't kill you (unless you're attacked by a bear).
Like playing with an electrical socket when you are a child. You probably shouldn't. You've been told you shouldn't. You've even been told that it will hurt and you could die. Like my nephew, for example, who has been told on numerous occasions not to play with electrical sockets. He came to my sister one day and told her that he touched one in the playroom in the attic "Mommy, I got elestroscuted!". ... Um... Right. My point exactly.
That is an example of something that could actually kill you (especially if the voltage is high enough, or if your hands are wet, or some other arrangement of circumstances is in place.)
But there are often things that we imagine will kill us, and we say they will kill us, simply because we do not want to do them. When you are a child, you think that interrupting whatever important thing you are doing to take out the garbage will kill you. You think that walking the 15 minute walk to school on a hot day will kill you. You think that Your big brother or sister being in your room bothering you is probably going to kill you, because you will burst from the inside with rage that they are touching your things (even if they are not). These things will not kill you. They won't even hurt (unless of course you live in that part of Australia that doesn't have an ozone layer in which case, 15 minutes outside in the sun may actually kill you).
Yesterday, I was to go running in the mountains of Barcelona. Lovely place, really, with a church on top that you can see almost the entire way up, and lots of people sweating as they also walk, run or cycle up the mountain with you. I haven't run hard in probably 4 years because my knee bothers me if I run too hard or too long. So a woman from the gym asked me if I would like to go running with her (on a Saturday) in the mountains and I hesitantly agreed, mostly because I felt pressured to go, and partly because an actress friend of hers who does voice-over dubbing was going to go with us, so it would be a good chance to meet this person and maybe network. The friend cancelled. Of course. I was sure that this mountain run was going to kill me. Hot sun, hills, heat, sweat, being sociable (talking and running is one of the hardest things I think you can do- there is no way to sound normal while running, and breathing becomes even more laboured).
So we went, just her and I, and it wasn't so bad because she took me to a part that wasn't as hilly, and we took it pretty easy. There was never a moment on the mountain where I thought: "yes, I'm going to die up here for sure" but there were times when I thought I wanted to kill her. People don't seem to understand that while other people become very laboured in their breathing, and their shoulders slump and they sweat like crazy when they workout really hard, I am different. Through theatre I became very, very aware of my body and what it can do, and what its limits are. When I workout, I push myself, but not to the point of possible injury. I make sure that whatever I'm going, I am keeping my form correct, and breathing properly. I am also very aware of my breathing, and how important it is to breathe steady breaths while working out. I have trained myself to be hyper aware of that. I am also not a very sweaty person. So while running yesterday with this woman, I told her I needed to stop for a minute. Her reaction was: "but you're not even sweating, and your breathing is fine, and you are still keeping your form, you can't be that tired!" But yes, I can be. I'm not a wimp, and I actually pushed myself much further than I thought I would be able to yesterday, but my heart is not used to running, and neither are my legs. So when I tell you I need to stop, then trust that I know my body and stop!
Anyway, all of this was to say that running in the mountains won't kill you (unless you're attacked by a bear).
Thursday, October 16, 2014
My Favourite Quote....
I don't know if I'd call it my favourite quote, but I certainly do like this one lot:
"You only life once,
but if you do it right,
once is enough"
- Mae West
Some people might think this is kind of cliché... I mean, hello: YOLO! I may be Canadian, but this love of this quote has nothing to do with Drake.
It actually has everything to do with the person who has affected my life in so many more ways than you would ever think! She and I grew up together.. we learned about life together... and her time was limited. Well, guess what: all of us have limited time, we just don't know how limited it is, or isn't. Some people live until they are 80 or 90 and some only live until their 20's or 30's or God forbid, they don't even get that much time. Well, no matter how much time you have, or don't have, make sure you live your life right! I'm not talking about a "correct" way of living, but of making sure you don't go through life forgetting to live it.
So here is to living life only once, but making sure that all of the time you have, is spent well.
Happy thoughts people.
xo
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
A (very) Short Story
Once upon a time there was a girl with writer's block.
She wanted to write. She had no inspiration.
The end.
(She will live happily ever after if you send inspiration)
She wanted to write. She had no inspiration.
The end.
(She will live happily ever after if you send inspiration)
Monday, August 25, 2014
'Somebody Like You'
Listening to 'Somebody Like You' by Keith Urban... makes me think of my very best, best friend. And 'Something More' by Sugarland.... "I get home, 7:30, the house is dirty.. but it can wait!" heh.
Been thinking about this girl a lot for the last couple of days. Coming across things she's given me or being reminded of moments we've shared.
Coke and Mattresses.
Forgetting to take long pants and sweaters to camp.
About a million mix cd's from ages past to almost present day, one of which I found under a seat in the car when I was cleaning it out the other day (love little surprises like that!)
For some reason we both liked country music. Not ALL country songs, but random ones. And Linkin Park. Our list of favourite songs include everything from hymns to rock and pop and even songs in languages we don't understand... pretty much, if you can move to it, we like it. HAHA.
Miss your face girl.
Come back from the best vacation ever and chill with me on a beach (I'll buy you ALL the suntan lotion that you need.. and we both know that is an investment!)
Been thinking about this girl a lot for the last couple of days. Coming across things she's given me or being reminded of moments we've shared.
Coke and Mattresses.
Forgetting to take long pants and sweaters to camp.
About a million mix cd's from ages past to almost present day, one of which I found under a seat in the car when I was cleaning it out the other day (love little surprises like that!)
For some reason we both liked country music. Not ALL country songs, but random ones. And Linkin Park. Our list of favourite songs include everything from hymns to rock and pop and even songs in languages we don't understand... pretty much, if you can move to it, we like it. HAHA.
Miss your face girl.
Come back from the best vacation ever and chill with me on a beach (I'll buy you ALL the suntan lotion that you need.. and we both know that is an investment!)
Monday, July 14, 2014
That Day in Paris
I have realized that I have never actually written about the day I spent in Paris. I should be writing this on my other blog, Bethalona, but I suppose I will just copy it there and get on with life.
I spent my day in Paris with Esther and Victoria- fitting that both of them have royal names and so do I, and we spent the day wandering around a city that has a way of making one feel like a royal. When we arrived, it was late. So dark we could not tell where we were or what direction we wanted to go in. Other tourists helped point us towards the metro line where we could at least find a map of the city and figure out where our hostel was. Somehow I became the tour guide (I was the only one of the three of us who actually wanted to spend time in Paris and the only one with a little bit of French to rely on).
After safely navigating Paris at night and getting us from Metro to bus to the hostel, we ventured out for pizza. A small place, tucked away in what felt like a slightly unsafe neighbourhood, but the pizza was good and we were all too tired to care if it wasn't. Back to the hostel for sleep in our cramped three-person room where Victoria and I shared a bed and Esther was on the bunk up top.
Morning showers in a cold hostel, bundled up and hungry we left the hostel ready for a day of adventure. We found a bakery (one of many, and not-so-few-and-far-between) and bought some pastries for breakfast, and the much needed coffee. We bought some apples from a local vendor and carried on our way. Me, being the tour guide again, had asked in very broken French (after reciting in French that I don't speak the language) had asked for directions from a very large man at the reception desk in the hostel. He had told me in simple terms to walk down to the main road, turn left and walk to the MacDonalds. We would find it from there.
We did, thank goodness. And still having my map, I found our way through the spiders web to a metro stop close to the Louvre. (I should mention that on the Metro the three of us saw the most attractive, well-dressed man we could ever agree on as being the most attractive man we've ever seen. He looked as though he stepped out from between the pages of a magazine cologne ad and onto the Metro. None of us were close enough to smell him, but I assume he smells like something that would have most women losing themselves in and falling victim to his European allure. From head to toe: perfection. And I said "bonjour" to him on the way out of the Metro car and giggled like a school girl with my friends all the way to the top of the stairs!)
Out on the street, we met some Australians who gave us a tip about travelling in Europe, and most importantly in Paris: keep your purse under your coat and your valuables where you can feel them on your person. Past a church and down the street, we got out first glimpses of the magnificent museum. Truthfully, I thought it would look different, and once inside the confines of the buildings it did. The old style architecture and sculptures were beautiful and as many have said, I found the glass structure in the middle to be starkly out of place, despite how beautiful it can be in photos (something not unlike the structure built onto the ROM in Toronto- completely unnecessary and mostly out of place, but trying to tie in old world with new and modern). We of course took pictures, and once inside, wandered our way around the Greek sculptures, Egyptian antiquities and still life paintings. We found the Mona Lisa which is actually a lot smaller than I had imagined it to be, and the Venus de Milo. We left around noon as we were all beginning to get rather hungry, and found a little shop to buy sandwiches in.
After our snack, we wandered in a tourist fashion all the way up the Champs Elysees, going into shops along the way. We went into Yves Roche, a store I happen to quite like, and purchased a few small things and while the store clerk was quite pleasant to me, she was quite rude to my friends, who again, do not speak any French.
We found the Arc de Triomphe and took a siesta on a park bench nearby. Another lovely tourist took our photo because the occasion was simply entertaining.
From there we took a bicycle taxi to an attractive photo-perfect spot close to the Eiffel Tower. It was 15 euro but well worth the money for the somewhat romantic ride and the laughs along the way.
Photos, photos, photos and lots of posing. Another walk had us standing right under the tower, looking straight up. We didn't take the opportunity to walk up the tower because it was already getting late in the day and the wait was 2 hours. If we had another day we would have planned to be there early and go up, but alas, maybe next time.
We had been recommended a place to eat for dinner by a friend of ours, so we decided to try to find it. It was across the city: another Metro ride and a walk through the narrow streets to find it. Once there, we tried to get in. We were declined. The man at the door said it was because we didn't have reservations and they were quite busy. The place was empty from what I saw. I think it was because we didn't speak French.
Another place around the corner was quite a bit more hospitable. I tried escargot! It has much the same texture as mushroom, surprisingly, and I found it to actually be agreeable. Though, the amount of garlic and the overpowering taste of salt prevented me from wanting more than a few bites.
Dinner was delicious and fanciful as any dinner in Paris should be. Afterwards, we decided to take a stroll and find a store for some sweet treats. We purchased a box of cookies and some bottles of water and kept on walking. I had spoken to a friend of mine from Canada who said he would be in Paris the same weekend, but we hadn't been able to get ahold of him all weekend. That was perfectly fine with all of us. We ended up sitting on a park bench on a small street, looking at an old building and just talking into the night. We didn't have energy after our long day of walking to go out partying, and we didn't care to go back and change and go out again. We were perfectly content to eat our cookies on the park bench.
We got back to our room late that night again, and went to bed. That night I dreamt in three languages and woke up feeling rather confused.
After a quick breakfast and purchasing a few items to take on our train ride, we headed to the train station to continue our trip around Europe. Baguettes, apples and coffee. The perfect end to our short stay in the city of love.
I spent my day in Paris with Esther and Victoria- fitting that both of them have royal names and so do I, and we spent the day wandering around a city that has a way of making one feel like a royal. When we arrived, it was late. So dark we could not tell where we were or what direction we wanted to go in. Other tourists helped point us towards the metro line where we could at least find a map of the city and figure out where our hostel was. Somehow I became the tour guide (I was the only one of the three of us who actually wanted to spend time in Paris and the only one with a little bit of French to rely on).
After safely navigating Paris at night and getting us from Metro to bus to the hostel, we ventured out for pizza. A small place, tucked away in what felt like a slightly unsafe neighbourhood, but the pizza was good and we were all too tired to care if it wasn't. Back to the hostel for sleep in our cramped three-person room where Victoria and I shared a bed and Esther was on the bunk up top.
Morning showers in a cold hostel, bundled up and hungry we left the hostel ready for a day of adventure. We found a bakery (one of many, and not-so-few-and-far-between) and bought some pastries for breakfast, and the much needed coffee. We bought some apples from a local vendor and carried on our way. Me, being the tour guide again, had asked in very broken French (after reciting in French that I don't speak the language) had asked for directions from a very large man at the reception desk in the hostel. He had told me in simple terms to walk down to the main road, turn left and walk to the MacDonalds. We would find it from there.
We did, thank goodness. And still having my map, I found our way through the spiders web to a metro stop close to the Louvre. (I should mention that on the Metro the three of us saw the most attractive, well-dressed man we could ever agree on as being the most attractive man we've ever seen. He looked as though he stepped out from between the pages of a magazine cologne ad and onto the Metro. None of us were close enough to smell him, but I assume he smells like something that would have most women losing themselves in and falling victim to his European allure. From head to toe: perfection. And I said "bonjour" to him on the way out of the Metro car and giggled like a school girl with my friends all the way to the top of the stairs!)
Out on the street, we met some Australians who gave us a tip about travelling in Europe, and most importantly in Paris: keep your purse under your coat and your valuables where you can feel them on your person. Past a church and down the street, we got out first glimpses of the magnificent museum. Truthfully, I thought it would look different, and once inside the confines of the buildings it did. The old style architecture and sculptures were beautiful and as many have said, I found the glass structure in the middle to be starkly out of place, despite how beautiful it can be in photos (something not unlike the structure built onto the ROM in Toronto- completely unnecessary and mostly out of place, but trying to tie in old world with new and modern). We of course took pictures, and once inside, wandered our way around the Greek sculptures, Egyptian antiquities and still life paintings. We found the Mona Lisa which is actually a lot smaller than I had imagined it to be, and the Venus de Milo. We left around noon as we were all beginning to get rather hungry, and found a little shop to buy sandwiches in.
After our snack, we wandered in a tourist fashion all the way up the Champs Elysees, going into shops along the way. We went into Yves Roche, a store I happen to quite like, and purchased a few small things and while the store clerk was quite pleasant to me, she was quite rude to my friends, who again, do not speak any French.
We found the Arc de Triomphe and took a siesta on a park bench nearby. Another lovely tourist took our photo because the occasion was simply entertaining.
From there we took a bicycle taxi to an attractive photo-perfect spot close to the Eiffel Tower. It was 15 euro but well worth the money for the somewhat romantic ride and the laughs along the way.
Photos, photos, photos and lots of posing. Another walk had us standing right under the tower, looking straight up. We didn't take the opportunity to walk up the tower because it was already getting late in the day and the wait was 2 hours. If we had another day we would have planned to be there early and go up, but alas, maybe next time.
We had been recommended a place to eat for dinner by a friend of ours, so we decided to try to find it. It was across the city: another Metro ride and a walk through the narrow streets to find it. Once there, we tried to get in. We were declined. The man at the door said it was because we didn't have reservations and they were quite busy. The place was empty from what I saw. I think it was because we didn't speak French.
Another place around the corner was quite a bit more hospitable. I tried escargot! It has much the same texture as mushroom, surprisingly, and I found it to actually be agreeable. Though, the amount of garlic and the overpowering taste of salt prevented me from wanting more than a few bites.
Dinner was delicious and fanciful as any dinner in Paris should be. Afterwards, we decided to take a stroll and find a store for some sweet treats. We purchased a box of cookies and some bottles of water and kept on walking. I had spoken to a friend of mine from Canada who said he would be in Paris the same weekend, but we hadn't been able to get ahold of him all weekend. That was perfectly fine with all of us. We ended up sitting on a park bench on a small street, looking at an old building and just talking into the night. We didn't have energy after our long day of walking to go out partying, and we didn't care to go back and change and go out again. We were perfectly content to eat our cookies on the park bench.
We got back to our room late that night again, and went to bed. That night I dreamt in three languages and woke up feeling rather confused.
After a quick breakfast and purchasing a few items to take on our train ride, we headed to the train station to continue our trip around Europe. Baguettes, apples and coffee. The perfect end to our short stay in the city of love.
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