Monday, September 29, 2008

Single Mama Blues

being the only child of a single mama, i've had trouble with sharing, my entire life. i don't tend to play well with others, i don't like to lend out my stuff, i always want the biggest piece of cake and if anyone is ever mean to my mama, i kick their ass ON THE SPOT. i've tended to be a fairly possessive partner to my husbands and lovers (in a totally passive aggressive way - i don't think they ever KNEW i was possessive, they just thought i was bitchy) .. regardless, i've always managed to make it work, somehow.

BUT now i've discovered that i'm turning into a possessive single mama. i'm having trouble sharing my kid. how ridiculous. so, here it is :

i must realize that just because frith loves someone else, doesn't mean she loves me any less. love, as the old saying goes, is the only thing you will have more of, the more of it you give away.

Saturday, September 27, 2008


These cookies are my third favourite thing in the world.
This is also the very first and only recipe I have ever mastered.

Chocolate Chip Cookies

Preheat oven to 375

1/4 cup butter
Add gradually and beat until creamy:
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
Beat in:
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
Stir and sift in:
1 cup and 2 tablespoons sifted all purpose flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
Stir in:
1/2 cup chopped nuts
1/2 cup chocolate chips

Drop the batter on to greased cookie sheets in teaspoon sizes and bake for about 10 minutes.

(courtesy of The Joy Of Cooking)


I learned something today.
If you want to be the best kisser ever, kiss from your toes.

Try it.

I dare you.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Something to Chew On

Change is good but sometimes it takes some getting used to.
For instance, say you're force fed beets with every meal for years and years and then suddenly one day, no more beets. It's going to take some adjustment to realize that the beets are gone. You can see that there are no longer any beets on your plate and your fingers are no longer stained red, but the taste of beets will linger on your tongue for some time.

For the next few meals you’re going to be expecting the beets because as far as you know meal equals beets. You may even flinch if there is something round and red on your plate. But slowly, day-by-day, you’ll get used to the beets being gone. It’s very doubtful you’ll ever miss the beets and perhaps, one day, they’ll come back in a different shape or form, but if and when the beets come back it will be your choice to eat them or not.

Green No-Beet Borscht

1 lb Sorrel
1 lb Spinach
1 lb Pork sausage (spicy)
2 1/4 Quarts beef stock
2 Onions, chopped
1 Carrot, chopped
1 Celery stalk, chopped
2 Potatoes peeled and chopped
1 Tbls Fresh Dill, chopped
1/2 Cup Heavy cream
4 Eggs hardboiled, Sliced
1/4 Cup Sour cream
1/4 tsp black pepper

Bring the beef stock to a boil.
While the broth is warming up, brown the sausage in a skillet Drain the fat and pat dry with paper towel to remove as much fat as possible.
Add the sausage, onion, carrot, celery, sorrel, spinach, potatoes and pepper and boil for 10 minutes.
Reduce heat and simmer for an hour.
Remove from heat.
Stir the cream and fresh dill.
Serve with a slice of egg and a teaspoon of sour cream.

Thursday, September 18, 2008


I find lately that I'm abbreviating my writing style, throwing together contractions where there were no contractions before.
What will becomes what'll, why have becomes why've and who are becomes who're. I only use the last one if someone else has paid for dinner.


I'm the baby in a family with 5 children. On top of which I am that late-in-life, we-thought-we-were-done-but-oops! kid. I have a brother 8 years older than me, a sister 11 years older, another brother 13 years older and another 15 years older.

It was odd because it was almost like growing up an only child with a lot of uncles and an aunt. By the time I hit my teens my brothers and sisters had all moved out and I only saw them on holidays. Even now that we're adults, when we all get together, they exchange stories of crazy teen antics I did not partake in and memories of family events I was in diapers for.

That exclusion is a hard part of being the youngest, by a mile. However it's bareable and expected. And being a late-in-life baby for my parents, who are now in the mid 70s means I won't have them in my life as long as my siblings, and I have accepted that. But what has happened that was unexpected and I can't seem to accept is losing my siblings before my parents. My oldest brother died of lung cancer before he hit 40. And now my 44 year old brother is in the hospital awaiting a course of treatment after having a mild heart attack. He'll either have stents put in his arteries or bypass. I'm sure my brother will be fine because this kind of medical issue is, sadly, common nowadays and very treatable, especially because they caught it before a major heart attack. But it still makes me sad for things I can not change and things I'll never have.

I watched my grandmother - at 80 - enjoy Christmas dinner with her brother. They were 4 years apart. It was so neat to watch them interact and share stories about moving from Newfoundland to Montreal with their parents and sister. My favorite part of extended family gatherings was watching my dad and his sisters tease each other. They do it everytime they get together and have a wee bit too much to drink. (which is always). They joke about how my dad used to get his youngest sister to play poker with him every Saturday morning and swindle her out of her allowance. Or how he used to bully his oldest sister's male suitors.

My brother curently in the hospital has 8 year old twins - a boy and a girl. I watched them finish each other sentences and know exactly how to push each other buttons and I envy it. I want to sit them down and tell them how lucky they are and how they should thank their lucky stars for their closeness, both in age and emotion. But I know they wouldn't get it. I really wish I didn't get it either.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

The hands say it all.... or do they?

I'm single and in a new country, starting a new life, and I've noticed some gorgeous males lately. It's LA - everything is pretty.

Whenever someone asked me what I notice 1st on a guy, I used to answer eyes. I love eyes. Blue ones to be precise. But nowadays, I notice hands first. Because chances are any gorgeous charming man my age who is straight may also be married. So I go straight to the hands and look for the ring.

There was this charming and adorable actor I met at a fundraiser. Tall, blue eyes, broad shoulders, no ring. But he did have a wife who showed up at the event moments later. I met another one. Real estate agent. Tall, blue eyes, blonde surfer hair and a flirtatious smile. No ring. But *surprise* he was married.

Why no ring?

I never got into a big enough conversation to feel comfortable asking either of them. But if any one out there has a reasonable explanation as to why a married man wouldn't wear a ring or why you, as a wife, wouldn't care if your husband wore a ring, I'm DYING to know.

See, for me the ring is a BIG part of the commitment. I mean, just don't see any reason at all why a man wouldn't wear a ring. And I wonder if a woman didn't want to wear one if it would be as much of a non-issue as wehn guys do it. Something tells me it would be an issue.

Here's the thing about the ring - it lets the rest of the women know not to waste their time flirting with you. (from a single female perspective I appreciate knowing not to waste my time).

And call me old-school or paranoid or what have you but not wearing a ring smacks of "I don't want anyone to know I'm not available"

And so if you marry me you have 2 options:

1) Wear a ring. Gold, Silver, Platinum, Tatanium, Tin foil - whatever


2) Get the word MARRIED tattooed across your forehead. (and you don't get to grown bangs, ever).

Am I unreasonable or old fashioned? What's up with the No Ring Trend?

USA They're Oh... What Is That?!

Did I ever tell you about the time I went on a weekend getaway to Buffalo, NY with my two friends Aoan and Japril*?

It was a lovely trip and we had no idea that Buffalo had such a booming nightlife! And so filled with Canadian culture! Everywhere we went we tried to embrace the vibe of American Life but instead at every turn were smacked in the face with our own boring culture - Molson beer, DuMaurier cigarettes, men named Doug and Tragically Hip cover bands (who, as it turns out, may have actually been the Tragically Hip).

For most of our trip poor Japril was suffering from some pretty awful bowel problems and sadly Aoan and I were made to suffer the consequences. Aoan has since filed a grievance with the Geneva Convention - humans no longer being allowed to used chemical warfare and all that. All I can say is thank goodness for power windows and the inability to drive 55.

We enjoyed a fun filled day of shopping and an even more filled fun night of drinking and dancing and a rousing game of Poke The American In The Politics. Truth be told I was the only one that played that game, sometimes I enjoy living dangerously. Six bars, eight different aliases and twenty broken hearts later we were done.

We set off the next morning for home, but not before stopping at Target to do a little last minute bargain hunting.

While waiting in line to use the ATM I realized that my digestive system was beginning to suffer the effects of over-indulgence on American Beer and Fried Goodness. Knowing that I can be very discreet (that is to say, I can fart without making noise) I let go. My sincerest apologies to any and all within a 20 foot radius of me that day. Oh my. I think I may have even caused on unsuspecting woman to go into labour.

Being the kind of lady I am, when asked by Japril "What is that! That's awful! Did you fart?" I politely replied "Oh darling, that was not me, it must have been you. You're the one with the overactive colon my friend."

What gobsmacked me the most was that Japril actually believed me and for the next year-and-a-half would blush, apologize and run out of the room anytime the words, Target, Buffalo, Doug or beer came up in conversation. I eventually let her off the hook and confessed to my crime.

She has since forgiven me and I can still laugh about it to this day though I'm not quite sure she sees the humour in it yet. Maybe I'm not telling it right.

*names have been changed to protect the innocent

Monday, September 15, 2008

An Open Ltr

Dear Emailer,

Thank you for your message, I'm happy that you took the time to contact me.

I feel I must explain that no matter who you are lol, plz, k?thx, j/k and :) (or variations thereof) aren't going to cover up the fact that you're a jerk and they don't make up for it. These symbols and random letters do not an apology make and they don't make your rudeness disappear.

Please stop using these shortcuts and just say what you really mean. If you are too lazy to do your job and want me to do it, if you are asking me because you think I'm a pushover then stop it. I don't mind doing you a favour, I'm a nice person, but if you're trying to take advantage of me I'll see right through it. If you are mad at me then tell me why straightforwardly and honestly. If I have done you wrong I will do my best to make up for it without the use of a semi-colon and a bracket.

If you are angry or upset or happy or joyous about something please don't belittle your feelings with abreviations.

Thank you.

a rough weekend

i've been trying to come to terms with the fact that now that my daughter is in school, i must give up my afternoons and evenings with her to her father.

he and his girlfriend took frith out for dinner yesterday, and when she came home she announced that she wanted to go live with papa and courtney, and she started packing. only the rain turned her back, as she walked past the driveway pulling her suitcase behind her.

the new arrangement means i will see her much less, and i already miss her awfully. she is growing up so quickly, and so much of the time i DO get to spend with her is taken up with running madly to get ready for school in the morning, or shopping for food, or cleaning the house, or driving to visit with relatives clamouring for frith time, or whatever.

it isn't logical, but i am so very jealous of her papa spending every day of the first three years of her life just BEING with her. i never had that chance. and now, i will never get it.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Slogan Hell


I couldn't, to save my life. The best I could come up with :

1. this election season : green is the new black

or else

2. there's no shame in being green (accompanied by a picture of eve with a fig leaf)

Anyhow .. the first was too racist sounding which was NOT my intention.. has NOBODY read any fashion magazines in the past fifty years? .. and the second just not positive enough.

Any thoughts??

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Oh My Goodness! It’s YOU!!

I just had one of those moments – those moments where you realize that you knew someone before you met them, that you always knew them in one capacity but never fully realized Who they were. When the Person You Never Knew becomes the Person You’ve Always Known.

The first time I remember this happening was when a director I used to work with and I started chatting and I found out that he used to be a DJ at a club I frequented quite a bit. I knew him back then, not as well as others but I could certainly pick him out of a line-up (if that line-up was in a dimly lit, smoke filled bar and I was on my third beer of the night). It wasn’t until that moment that I realized the Attractive Successful Director from my present was also the Hot DJ from my past.

Today I found myself tripping around the internets and consequently being taken down memory lane. I stumbled upon the name of a now defunct clothing line based out of Toronto. When I googled the name I was directed to a new clothing line created by the same designer. Right there, right in the middle of the homepage was a picture of this man who I had always known around “the scene” in Toronto as a friend of a friend, someone I had engaged in conversation with once or twice, shared a dance floor with and most likely drank at the same booze-cans with. All that time I had NO idea that he was Big Designer Man, Friend and Fitter to The Hippest of The Hip. He’d always just been You Know That Guy Whatshisname to me.

I love the idea of someone seeing a picture of me and having that same realization.