Wednesday, 21 March 2007

Drink, drank, drunk

On the heels of St. Patty's Day, and my vow to never again spend a whole night drinking beer and cider (too filling, too bloating), and to stick with my perennial favourite, I was shocked -- SHOCKED! -- to read this in Sympatico entertainment:

The refreshing flavour of Grey Goose vodka and bottled water has broken
Lindsay Lohan's valiant efforts to sober up. The 20-year-old actress, who
left the Wonderland rehab facility a month ago, was spotted mixing a
Lohantini, pouring the demon juice into a water bottle at New York nightclub
Plumm on Thursday, March 15, Us reports. Vodka and water? That's the drink
of boozehound grandmas, not 20-year-old Hollywood hotties.

Now, speaking as just a regular boozehound, I must defend my drink of choice. Vodka and water, I learned many, many years ago, is wonderful for many reasons.

  1. Low calorie. The initial reason for my choosing this mix was the calorie count. 5 or 6 fruity or cokey drinks adds up over a night, not to mention the sugar hangover. Vodka is the lowest calorie spirit, and combined with water, well, it doesn't get any better than that.
  2. Light and refreshing. It's just like drinking a glass of cold water with a squeeze of lime, and then your tongue heats up a little. None of the fuzzy teeth or bad breath that you get from mixed drinks. It's lovely in hot weather, helps you stay hydrated, too!
  3. Is she/isn't she? With a group of friends like mine in university, unless you're DD, you'd better be drinking. Fair enough. But sometimes, you know, you can't afford to. Sometimes you just don't want to. So, a nice drink like vodka-and-water is an excellent choice, since you can switch to water, throw in a lime, and nobody knows. I have been known (very recently) to go to the bar, ask for water, and request that they make it look alcoholic. VoilĂ ! Because of my propensity for this drink, nobody gives me a hard time; they just assume that there's vodka in my glass, too.
  4. Fun/excitement. We went to the Dominican Republic last January, and had printed out a few sheets of Spanish For Tourists. Naturally, we were fluent by day 4... which was the day I boldly ordered "vodka y agua". Let me tell you, after drinking my bottle of water and glass of vodka, I was ready to party! (Briefly.) Apparently, "agua con vodka" would have gotten me the mixed drink. Oh well!

Tuesday, 20 March 2007

It's like some weird and amazing mind link

Ok, scroll down to March 6th, where you'll see a quote from Lynne Truss, after which I pose a perfectly normal grammar question. (normal in my family, anyway)

AND THEN! (cue ominous music)

13 days later (I forgot to flip the page on Friday), there it is, the same question in her calendar.

Why, you answer, it's not odd at all! After all, the question that you posted was done so 13 days before she posted the same one!

However -- and this is where it gets really creepy -- the calendar was sealed in a box when I received it for Christmas, which means that she must have been able to see into the future!!!!

Irritatingly, however, she doesn't ANSWER the question.

Or hasn't, as of the March 20 page... it's not like I can see into the future.

Monday, 19 March 2007

The Pub Princess of St. Patty's Day

Four weeks to go. Saturday's big excitement was the hair and makeup trial. Whoo.

After polling all of my closest friends and random strangers, I decided that I wanted to be a princess. And since I can't BE a princess, the next best thing is to LOOK like a princess.

So, I brought in a printout of a few different styles, gave it to the Fabulous Kim (we reminisced about the good old days with the Renegades, and how we both miss it), and in just an hour, with only 2 lbs. of bobby pins, 3 cans of hair spray, and 55 minutes of backcombing, voila! The frog was transformed!
Well, mostly. Then there was makeup.

I went over to see Sylvie, who analyzed me out loud. Turns out that I don't actually have standard redhead colouring, since I have pink undertones, or something. Also, I have deep set eyes, which 1) I don't think is a good thing, and 2) are you really supposed to point out flaws to your client? (but Mom said it means I have really big lids, and that I get it from my father's side). I digress.

Concealer. Foundation. More concealer. Primer. Liner, shadow, mascara (but not black - in fact, I should throw out my black mascara and only use dark brown. WHAT???). Liner, lipstick. Blush. Bronzer. Powder. Voila.

My advisors (Mom and Bec) were actually clasping their hands under their chins and gasping with delight, they liked it so much!

Well, it was different than I usually look, that's for sure, and I wasn't completely convinced that it was good. It held up quite well for the night (more on that in a sec), and aside from a titch too much blush, I guess it's something that I can live with for one day.

So, I'm about to leave the salon, and both Kim and Sylvie tell me that I have to keep it in/on all night. And I'm like, "I can't go to a pub like this!" But then, I followed that with, "It's St. Patrick's Day! I can't NOT go to a pub!"

Fast forward to driving home, and waiting to get picked up by friend and new boyfriend. Now, it's always nice to meet new people, but it somehow seems more awkward when they're like, "Hi. You're wearing a tiara." And then all you can say is, "Yes. I always look like this," before you get in their car. So anyhoo, I made it to the Arrow & Loon, and walked in, all self-conscious-like. (that continued all night, actually) But Chris (aka Chris O'Toole, aka Chris Murphy, aka Harrigan) loved it. I got many compliments, kisses, and squeezes. Of course, I don't know how many beers he had before I got there, but I won't question.

It was sort of awkward, though - running into people, and their eyes drift up to the tiara, and then you have to explain it all again... until I decided just to say, "because I'm a princess." And that worked - no more questions asked!

But yeah, I was all nervous and jittery all night, even after quaffing quite a bit of supposed "muscle relaxant" (quick, what book is that from?) - but this has become a normal state for me - trouble sleeping, always vibrating and tense... tell me this will go away after the wedding???

Wednesday, 14 March 2007

Saving face

Actual Age: 30
How I look: (rumour has it) 25 (but I've gotten from 22 to 26)
How I feel: 17, at most

With the wedding (oh, not THAT again) coming up in a month (gulp!), I decided to talk to my esthetician about my skin. (She usually focuses on other (nether) areas... with hot wax...) To sum up, I don't have good skin, and I never have. My mom has rosacea, and I struggled with acne in high school and university, right up to the day that I got my doctor to prescribe a pill that would help. Four years later, I decided to cycle off, because at 25, there's no way I could still have acne, right?


Let's just say that the surge of ridiculously bad acne was worse than it was at 14, perhaps because I was 25 and less mentally able to handle it, but I think that it was definitely worse. (There's something fundamentally wrong with needing to treat acne and fine lines at the same time). So I went back to my doctor and got re-prescribed. She said it would take at least 10 weeks to kick in. So I asked for something topical, too. Again, 10 weeks. I doubled up, and it only actually took about 6 weeks to be clear again, but in the meantime, the horror!!!

But I digress. My daily skincare routine, I thought, was good. My face is always exfoliated lightly twice a day, I always wear moisturizing sunscreen SPF 25, and I have a night repair cream with AHA, too. So why is it always so red and blotchy?

According to the Amazing Petra, I needed a peel, I needed a soothing mask, and I needed to stop scrubbing and irritating the crap out of my sensitive skin twice a day. Cetaphil, and a non-AHA moisturizer from now on, she said, would help.

The peel itself isn't pleasant (I believe the chemicals are actually dissolving the top 12 layers of my skin, actually). It smells kind of gross, and it feels just like really bad irritation, kind of crawling and stinging and burning, but it's a) better than a regular facial (ugh, extractions), and b) only lasts 2 minutes, start to finish. Afterwards, I get a nice soothing mask, which makes me fall asleep. When I wake up, my skin is beautiful - even-toned and smooth and soft.

Third treatment is tonight, but this is something that I want to keep up. The difference, to me at least, is stunning, honestly like night and day. I remember being an awkward teenager (for 12 years, actually), just thinking that maybe, if my skin would clear up, people would see that I was worth looking at. I was starting to feel that way again, in photos where my face always looked red, or catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror at the gym. From the second that I saw the improvement, I felt better, more confident, more ... pretty?

The problem, aside from the cost (kaff...not prohibitive, but not wallet-friendly, for sure), is that she asked me to take out my nose ring before the first treatment, and I couldn't get it back in.

More on that in the next post...

Friday, 9 March 2007

Putting the "whee!" in "weekend"

Friday afternoon.
It's still cold out; however, with Friday being my all-time favourite day, I'm sort of ok with that.

Friday means one more day of work, but, from the moment you get up, there's the promise of a fun, fabulous weekend, packed with friends, activities, outings, and adventures. Or, possibly, nothing. Two days of kicking back and relaxing, possibly having two naps, complete with sunbeams - such luxury! There's anticipation; there's eagerness to get out and experience life, to taste life.

And, you get to wear jeans to work.

By Saturday, you already have that feeling of time ticking past, of needing to fit in as much joy as you can, of realizing that the next day is Sunday. And by Sunday, it's too late; the spectre of Monday looms.

I find I put more effort into my appearance on Fridays, for some reason. I wear casual, more stylish clothes, and, if you've been following my New Year's Resolutions, yes, I'm still flossing (I may have missed a few days, but I'm at least 63 for 68 - not too shabby), and check this out - my hair is styled (half up, but styled and blow-dried and everything) and of course, I'm padded.

On deck for tonight: dinner and drinks (probably too many) with fellow redhead at favourite local. Then a dizzily delirious fall into bed, and an alarm set for 8:30 - vive le weekend!

Tuesday, 6 March 2007


Please note the date: March 6, for the love of Mike! Why am I still living here????

I am wearing:

  • turtleneck
  • heavy black sweater
  • tights
  • long johns
  • flannel pants
  • long socks
And for the walk in, I added:

  • toque
  • scarf
  • fleece jacket
  • winter jacket
  • little gloves
  • fleece mittens
With a strip of my face showing that was literally only one inch thick, I still thought I was going to die.

However, there's nothing like a good bit of grammar humour to warm up the body and soul, so here goes:

Beachcomber's Law of Conservation of Apostrophes states that a balance
exists in nature: "For every apostrophe omitted from an it's, there is
an extra one put into an its."

~ from Lynne Truss' Eats, Shoots & Leaves

(uh oh - is there supposed to be an extra s on the end of Truss'?)

Monday, 5 March 2007

Oh, the shame

How many of my friends with blogs and websites and photosites have gotten a simple email from me, saying, "update your site"?

All of them.

So, the shame, THE SHAME, to finally get my first "update your blog" message.

The past week has been a rollercoaster. Lots to do, lots to think about, not enough sleep, not enough time. We had enrolled in a marriage preparation course, and were not looking forward to it (because, really, who would?). Unlike every other couple in the course, however, we didn't HAVE to be there (it's a requirement if you're being married in the Catholic church), so maybe that helped a bit. Also, there were lots of snacks.

Either way, it wasn't what we had expected, at all. We have realized that we haven't discussed money, joint accounts, wills, insurance, or anything like that, and there were a few neat communication-y games that I think we did quite well at.

I'm apparently a squirrel, and Chris is a dog. A bit of pop psychology, not really sure what to do with that! All in all, there were no real tools, but we came away feeling good about our relationship, and how we handle things, and confident that the people beside us are going to break up, not us.

The divorce rate is up to 55%, which means that half of the room was doomed.