Sugar High

Growing up in the boonies, my Halloween experience was so much different than town or city kids. One year I went into a town to do trick or treating so I know from first hand experience both the subtle and obvious differences. As a country kid, you needed your parents everytime. They drove you from house to house because walking was out of the question. (It would take you an hour to reach 2 houses). Also, you knew everyone's house you went to. There was no fear of poisoned candy or homemade treats. In fact, one of the best spots handed out homemade caramel corn! The best candy is of course in the country. We took around pillowcases stuffed with goodies because people handed out an insane amount of sugary goodness. Full size chocolate bars, cans of pop, and very large treat bags. So unnecessary. So awesome. We don't do fun-size here.

But, there was a downfall, because you knew everyone a visit was in order. There were pictures taken, 10 minute long conversations between parents and your driver often received treats themselves in the form of cold beverages. Also, the time between houses took all night long. You had to make sure to visit family and friends who often live far away from each other. But you can't risk offending anyone, so you stopped in to everyone. Luckily, the kids are so jacked up on sugar and candy that staying up past your bedtime wasn't an issue.

Halloween as an adult is very different of course. You curse the delicious candy that is leftover in your house as you munch. Instead of wearing a snowsuit underneath your costume, you pride yourself on how much skin you can show and be tough about it. (Even though it's snowing). And, it's the weekend before for the grown ups that has them dressing up in ridiculous clothing they would normally never wear.

Love this new picture idea. Horsemanning - just in time for Halloween! Thank you Ellen Degeneres for introducing this to me.

Do a Little Dance...

I have a confession to make. My family is well known in this area. For what you ask? No, we do not have a reality show. We do not have our own clothing or perfume line. We are not even involved in a small town scandal. But, we are well known for a certain dance move that I will refer to as "The Dee Jig"

It's a simple yet seductive move that attracts men and women alike. My brothers and I didn't realize what a phenomenon it would turn into, but everytime we turn around people are begging for it. You can do it at anytime and I fully suggest it. The jig can be performed for any occasion and can capture a happy, sad or angry moment. Caution should be given though, as it can generate a lot of attention.

The move in all it's glory.

No woman can resist it.

The Dee Jig had truly humble beginnings. It all originated with the head of the family. You had to be quick to notice when it was happening because it did so in a flash. But, when moving between rooms in the house, Dad would throw his head back, open his arms, bend one knee and begin to do the jig as if holding an imaginary towel. Yes, this is how it began.

If you are truly a lucky person, you will be able to see the move performed by the originator himself. But that is rare, and is as sought after as a unicorn, or bigfoot. A bonus of living in a small town area is the possibility that you will have our whole family at an event where dancing will take place. Having my brothers and I perform this move is requested often, but of course, happens once in a blue moon. We don't want to overdo it.

Dance as if no one is watching.

A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker

I do not claim to be an expert in any of the above mentioned professions. But, over the Thanksgiving weekend, I tried my hand at one of them. Guesses anyone?

Nope, I didn't go out, find a turkey and have it for lunch. Maybe next year. And no, I did not learn the ancient art of wax candlestick making. I made a dessert. Maybe to a lot of you that sounds underwhelming and not a big deal. But I am no baker. I love to cook, yes, but cooking is different than baking. Baking is more of an artform. I found a delicious sounding recipe from "Oh She Glows" here. I couldn't resist, and I don't even normally like pumpkin desserts! (I know, I know, I'm a freak).

Making desserts is so much more stressful than a main dish. First of all, the amount of dishes that I am able to use and dirty up is amazing. I really do a number on the kitchen. Secondly, you can't test the goods! The reason I like cooking is because you get to taste test throughout the process, make sure it's seasoned enough and worthy of serving. With desserts, it's all about presentation, so cutting a sliver out of that cake or pie is deemed taboo. So, I had to leave it in the fridge. (Well hide it actually so it wasn't eaten before the lunch. It's everybody for themselves in this household). And then came the big moment. Serving it to my family hoping that it was edible. Success! This dessert was really quite tasty. I would love to make it again! Even though I did cheat a little and it wasn't completely vegan. I used butter in the pecan topping and chocolate chips instead of grated chocolate.

Not bad for a rookie eh?

Other highlights of the Thanksgiving festivities:

-The weather was amazing! Warm, sun shining with the beauty of fall colours. Magnificent.
-Grandpa made a dig at the empty spot beside my other single cousin and I. Well played sir, well played. Grandpa 1 - Single ladies 0

-Euchre was played, and won by my team! Undeafeted champs of 2011.

-I was once again, somehow, deemed the family drunk. Even though I was clearly sober at that point.

-We all got to stare at our cute little baby cousin and maul her.

-Leftover turkey to boot! Turkey sandwiches here I come.

Happy belated Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians!

Girl crushes are a healthy form of curiosity...it's science

A friend of mine recently gave me a HUGE compliment by comparing me to Chelsea Handler. Now, as my friends are basically my only readers and by default my biggest fans - this means a lot to me. Not only is this awesome because Ms. Handler is hilarious and successful, but she happens to be one of my celebrity girl crushes. (Yes I have more than one. I like to keep my options open). Now, of course I know, I in no way hold a candle to Chelsea Handler and her writing and/or comedic abilities, nor do I share her love of tiny people. But, I appreciate the boost to my ego nonetheless.

I first fell in love after seeing some episodes of Girls Behaving Badly. I always love watching and listening to a truly funny woman. So many of them get it wrong. My little crush grew after reading her book "My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One-Night Stands". Her writing and humour is so raw, honest and at times, slightly disturbing. Right up my alley.

Not for the faint of heart or sexually modest.

I just recently purchased her latest "Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang" and can't wait to rip into it. I know I'm going to have awkward laugh out loud moments in public and can't wait to do so. I feel so lucky to be able to watch her nightly on her show Chelsea Lately and listen to her degrade and humiliate others. Thank you for that Ms. Handler.

My second celebrity crush is another successful auther and commedianne. Tina Fey. I have always loved her admittedly nerdy style and self-deprecating humour. She is truly a successful and smart business woman. Her stints on "Weekend Update" during Saturday Night Live were enough to prove she had what it takes.

We truly are blessed to be able to watch her weekly on 30 Rock. I often scare my parents, ahem, roommates, by my raucous laughter into thinking I'm dying or that the world is ending. No, no, just uncontrollably laughing.

During the summer I swiftly read through "Bossypants" and found it hard to contain myself from laughing out loud on the beach. I knew it would be a good read when in the book store I started giggling after one of the first few lines. Well done.

Every awkward adolescent should read this.

Not many people can send me into fits of uncontrollable laughter and Ms. Fey, you are one of the lucky ones.

I have a strong admiration for the comedic (although very different) styles of these women. They are extremely crush-worthy.

There's no crying in baseball...and other life lessons learned from Tom Hanks

A League of Their Own is by far, one of my favourite movies. It contains two of my great loves. Baseball and Tom Hanks. He is full of wisdom and delivers those memorable quotes like no other. Think back to Forest Gump. "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you gonna get." You can't argue with that logic.

There have always been parallels between baseball and life. There are people that make their fame from sprouting those memorable quotes dedicated to the similarities. And who are we kidding, everyone in life is looking to hit a homerun. (Get your mind out of the gutter). I'm talking about pushing those limits to the point to reach your maximum potential. Now that I've made you feel like a pervert, get your mind back in that gutter and make the other connection.

As an avid baseball player for many years, I can understand and appreciate the line "there's no crying in baseball." I hate crying. Actually, let me rephrase that...I don't hate anything, that's such a strong word. I resent crying. Maybe it has to do with growing up with two brothers and any sign of "girly" weakness would be promptly matched with a punch to the arm.

I have never liked people to see me cry. I don't even like to admit that I do it. But, let's face it. Everyone at some point in their life, will cry. And if you say you haven't, you're a liar. You were a baby once right? Gotcha there. I don't like people to see me cry because it turns my face into a red, puffy, soggy, wrenched-up mess. My whole body sobs. It's not a pretty sight. This particular display of emotion for me is best saved for long car rides all alone or in the shower. My two favourite places to shed those alligator tears. (Shh don't tell anyone).

Even when other people cry, it makes me uncomfortable. I don't know what to do. Common sense dictates to give them a hug. Which, I would be more than happy to do. Hugs I love. But, some people don't want to be hugged or let alone touched when they're crying. So you just sit there and stare at them, trying to console them, but ultimately saying all the wrong things.

There are appropriate times and places for one to let those tears fall. I'm not made of stone. Sad movies or books make me tear up. But, sports is a time when crying is out of place. It is the one place where you are praised for getting dirty and aggressive. Don't ruin that with tears.

So we can all agree. There's no crying in baseball. Or in the crowded restaurant because he won't call you back. Save it for the shower. Crybaby.

Rhetorical Question?

"What's a good-looking girl like you doing single?"

Every single girl's worst nightmare. Your singleness is clearly rubbed in your face (is it that obvious?) and you are given a compliment, usually by a creepy man sitting at the bar where I work. First of all, I'm not very good with compliments anyway. They make me uncomfortable when I'm not expecting them. And I feel the need to reciprocate them, but that's very hard when the man staring at me has poor hygiene and clearly hasn't showered. And I never know how to respond to this question. Thank you? Or go with the more obvious, How dare you assume I'm single!
But the truth is, this question is fully loaded. Any attempt you make to answer it seems less than profound.
"I don't know."
"I like being single."

And your forced to psycho-analyze yourself or your exes to, basically a stranger. Really though, the bare bones of the question asking, "You seem normal, but really, what's wrong with you?"

Is it so strange for a 20-something woman these days to be single? What's that you say? Yes it is. hmmm...

What I really want to say to this question is, mind your business. If I knew the answer to that question I probably wouldn't be single and we wouldn't be having this terrible conversation. But of course, I don't say that because I'm too polite. And we end up having an awkward conversation about what I'm looking for. Or, the creepy man that asked that question then decides to make his move and between sips of beer decides now is the opportune time to ask me for a date. Now I have to awkwardly turn this man down, make a joke and run to the back so I don't have to talk to him anymore. I need a new job.

Moral of the story: Single does not equal desperate. And beer does not work on the person that is not drinking.

Doesn't anybody date anymore?

I feel a bit like Drew Barrymore's character from He's Just Not That Into You with this blog post but, what the hell. You know..when she's shopping with Scarlett Johansson's home wrecking character talking about how dating has changed. I have to say I couldn't agree more.

Lately I've been feeling a bit like a 'one date wonder'. I go on a nice date with a nice guy and have a nice time. Doesn't that sound boring? Sure they want to go out again. How could you blame them? I'm a good time. There just hasn't been any sparks lately. I believe in the spark. I don't think it's made up to confuse women. You need to have that gut feeling that not only are you attracted to this person, you actually like hanging out with them and you eagerly await that moment when he's going to lean in and kiss you.

I've also noticed that noone wants to admit that they are actively searching for someone or looking to date. Everyone wants to downplay it and just "hang out", "go for coffee", "grab a couple drinks." I mean, my god can you imagine if the person actually knew you liked him/her? The horror! But let's face it. Drinks and/or food + 2 single people + 'hanging out' = date. You're on a date. Admit it and breathe.

It's so easy now to hide behind technology. You meet this person whom you think is cute and seemed funny at the bar (or wherever you met). You exchange numbers, you text or talk on the phone for a bit and then you plan to *gasp* meet face to face again.

Once you do see each other again, it's not the same. This person was much more charming via text or seemed much cuter in the poorly lit bar with alcohol in my system. Don't judge me. I'm not a bitch, I swear. I'm much too nice of a person to just bail on them. So I carry on with this 'date' and the conversation is fine but I know I'm not interested. So then I feel like a bitch when I don't want to go out again. (The whole "let's just be friends" line seems to have run it's course).

I miss the days of grade 7 when you asked someone 'out'. Of course the only place you went out to was recess. But, you were official. He liked you and you liked him. It was a proclamation of your feelings.

Now the only guys that will actually ask you one a real date are too drunk to remember.