I love the new MTV show World of Jenks… heard of it? It’s basically about this (totally adorable) guy who lives the life of various “types” of people. There have only been three episodes so far – one where he lived with an up-and-coming rapper and really experienced a “rapper’s life,” another where he lived on the streets of San Francisco with a homeless girl, and then there was an episode where he lived the life of a MMA fighter.

The second episode where Jenks experienced life on the streets was really touching. Living in a city like Montreal I’ve seen my fair share of “homeless” people… and while Mike and I have been known to give money and food to some of them, I’ll admit to having qualms about just handing them money. I often think they’ll use the money for the wrong reasons, as I’m sure so many people do. But while Jenks lived with a young woman named Danielle, someone who chose to live on the streets rather than at home with her abusive alcoholic parents, it made me quickly realize that some of my stereotypes about the homeless just weren’t fair. People who live on the streets don’t necessarily have addictions that they’ll fuel with monies donated to them – they could very well need it for food, transportation, or something else valuable, as was the case with Danielle. My guess is that some of the people out there sleeping on park benches or panhandling in the metro have had horrific, horrible lives I can’t even come close to identifying with, and two dollars would mean way more to them than it does me.

Just a little thought I was thinking I’d put out there…

1- When did stamps get so expensive?!? I thought this was an “old-fashioned” way of sending something that should cost a few cents… do you know it runs me almost a whole dollar ($.98 cents) to send a measly little letter to the States? No wonder everyone’s giving up on the art of the handwritten note!

2- And speaking of expensive, what’s up with the cost of public transportation? I’m all for less cars on the road and trying to do your part environmentally-speaking, but when it costs $3 to take a bus one way and another $2.75 to take the lousy ‘tro a few stops, it’s almost worth paying $6 for parking and being warm and cozy in your own car listening to The Scientist for the 1000th time and sipping on a travel mug.

3- You know that guy who drives right up your ass, tailgates for awhile, gets frustrated and crazily veers around you only to hit a red light at the next intersection? I loathe that guy… and I thank the red-light gods.

4- I watch a lot of TV shows I’m embarrassed/ashamed of – I love Jersey Shore and I still can’t help but love The Real World (even though the “kids” on there seem so darn young!), all the Housewives series are amazing (blush), and there’s something about Antiques Roadshow that I just dig (I MUST be getting old if a PBS PROGRAM is on my list of guilty pleasures!).

5- Those penis enhancement commercials give me the heebeejeebees. There’s always some schwarmy-looking older dude with a creepy grin and a pair of geezers who are giving each other “the eye” across a crowded room. It’s kinda icky. I always change the channel when I start hearing that “suspicious” music.

Kelley and I met when I was 12 or 13… she was a cousin-through-marriage who I was only introduced to years after our aunt married my uncle. Kelley would come and stay at my aunt’s house when I made trips up to Montreal, either with my family or solo. She was a year older than me but I totally looked up to her – she was beautiful and smart and funny and soooo independent. She had hot boyfriends (like her current husband Jaime- wink!) and took the metro, train and bus all around the city. She had an awesome job on Sherbrooke Street, and we’d meet at Murrays or the Westmount Bistro and smoke a shameless amount of cigarettes with coffees.

She came down to Florida with our aunt and uncle one time and I got to skip school and we all went down to Key Largo to stay at Hawk’s Cay Resort – we went to a fancy dinner and slow-danced with my Uncle Tippy, and then the girls (me, Kell, and my Auntie Wendy) stayed in one room and prank-called the boys in the next room (my dad, uncle and brother). We ordered room service for dessert and jumped on the beds while singing “All I Wanna Do” and “Always” by Bon Jovi.

One summer our family came up to Montreal and we all went Up North to my uncle’s cottage, and Kelley and I would take the canoe and sneak to Teddy Bear Island to, well, smoke more cigarettes and be naughty. Another summer a brood of probably 50 of us traveled to Ontario for our uncle’s wedding, where we camped for the weekend and Kell introduced me to a delightful alcoholic beverage infamously known today as the “mosquito freezie.”

As much as others may hate to admit it (Jess and Jamie), Kelley set me up with my now-husband Michael at an Easter lunch at Vichys, where Mike and I sat across the table from one another, not saying a word and instantly falling in love.

Kelley also helped me fall in love with Montreal. I wanted to move to Montreal as soon as I graduated high school. I wanted to take the metro and bus, and go to the cafes, and take weekend jaunts to the country (which we did right after I moved here for my 18th birthday, a three-day blur of more mosquito freezies, great food, tons of friends, lots of laughs, and a morning that entailed a breakfast on the main drag in the Eastern Townships and then the boys and girls retreating to their respective public washrooms to try and go #2 before returning to a cottage where pooping was reserved for holes in the ground across the street!)

Today Kelley is the beautiful, special person she’s always been, only now she has a husband and two gorgeous children. She’s a wonderful mommy, wife, sister, daughter, cousin, and friend to so many. And on this day, I am so grateful she was born, that she came into my life and, even though we don’t see each other as often as I’d like, she has always remained a true friend who holds a very special place in my heart.

Happy Birthday Kell!! I love you!! xxoo

Every day, at least once a day when I eat something, I feel guilty, whether it’s a plain bagel and I worry about the white flour I’m ingesting or a hamburger where I question the quality (not to mention the quality-of-life) of the beef. I recently learned that ordinary coffee cream (not even the flavoured kind) has additives, and I now know that hot dogs and cold cuts are pure evil not to mention anything that comes in a package. When I think back, a breakfast sausage was considered part of the meat group while a piece of white bread would count as a member of the bread and grains group… but now, both these foods would be shunned.

I look at food packaging and ingredient listings as often as I practically eat, and no matter what, some word evokes instant guilt: saturated, “not a significant source of…”, etc. One minute everyone is touting their product as being “heart-friendly,” “a high source of fiber,” “organic,” or “made with whole grain,” and the next minute I’m watching a Dateline Special on how companies are labeling their products as healthy when, in reality, they aren’t.

Margarine is healthier… no butter… no margarine… but the olive oil kind… no the canola kind… no, the olive oil one…

Should I get the regular pasta noodles, the whole wheat, the tri-color veggie, or the one with flax?

I love milk but I feel guilty drinking actual white cow’s milk instead of soy or almond milk.

I’ve heard that there aren’t many nutrients in iceberg lettuce, watermelon, cucumbers, and mushrooms – so when I eat these things, is it a waste?

I wish I had a dietitian who could just create healthy menus for me… and then I could blame them if I ever get sick!

In honor of entering the dirty thirty club this week, I thought a RANDOM THOUGHTS… day of 30-year-old grumblings would be appropriate.

1- I really don’t think I look thirty – when I look in the mirror I still see a 16-year-old. And yet, when I look at pictures of myself at 16, I look sooooo young. I look like a baby. My skin is so new and fresh.

2- I kinda feel confused when I go clothes shopping – I see a brightly-coloured top that brings me back to my crimped-hair days, I hold it up against myself, and I think, “No, I’m too old for this.” But I still don’t quite feel ready to shop at Lane Bryant either. It makes the mall a scary place.

3- I say a little prayer when I order McDonalds (please, Lord, don’t let this clog my arteries), buy a baguette or pasta (forgive me, Lord, for ingesting evil white flour), and if I eat strange stuff before bed, I always have weird dreams…

3- I know I’m thirty because:

• it takes me three whole days to recover from a night out on the town
• a dustbuster is an exciting gift on Christmas morning
• I think guys like Robert Pattinson and Justin Bieber are annoying
• a great night includes a good cup of tea and a 10pm bedtime

My dad has always stayed in touch with his childhood friends – they get together periodically throughout the year, they all came to my wedding, and while I know how much my dad loves being with family, there’s a certain sparkle in his eye when he’s surrounded by these cherished lifelong friends. The circumstances that still bring them together may sometimes be bittersweet, but they’re the epitome of what friendship truly is. They’re the most devoted, loving group of people I’ve ever known.

There’s one couple who have been together since childhood and have six kids, another stem of the group includes siblings who not only grew up in the same household but with their friends as well. They all have children and busy families, but when it comes to friendship and making the time to get together for a football game or a good meal, they do… and they slip right back into their little NDG clique and stories of playing shinny in Terrebonnne Park, pulling pranks on one another at funeral homes and on buses, and doing naughty things and getting away with them (most of the time).

As they sit around a long dining room table reminiscing, the love and history and devotion that ties them together is practically palpable. I admire their bond. I feel privileged to be an offshoot of this group of people who found one another decades ago and maintained their friendships despite life and the many miles between them. When they’re all together them seem so happy and comfortable. They laugh and blush at stories they’d forgotten about over the years. They share and vocalize the profound love they have not only for each other but for one another’s families – mothers who always had steak and fries cooking on the stove or who stood up for one of their child’s friends because they considered them their own. They hug and joke and play and giggle. And as I watch them, I can’t help but think of my own group of friends, and how much I hope we’ll remain as dedicated to one another as they have remained.

OK, so sometimes a million things collide into one week – been there?? I hear ya! ‘Twas a hectic, busy, crazy few weeks, and now I’m off for a family birthday weekend – Hamilton with my dad and alllll his high school friends for a Hamilton/Montreal CFL game, then back to Ottawa on Sunday for a family dinner and a mommy-and-me shopping day on Monday. Coming home on my 30th birthday next Tuesday and then spending the night at the “Love In” room at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in downtown Montreal on Wednesday where John Lennon and Yoko Ono had their infamous “bed in for peace” (“All we are saaaaying, is give peace a chaaaaance…”)

Regular blogging will resume shortly so please don’t give up on me yet!! See you soon! xxoo

Girlfriend stew

This recipe dates back to medieval times when women would gather at the Roman baths, bringing the wine of their vineyard, tying their hair up with grape leaves, armed with complaints of barbaric husbands who didn’t answer “no” quickly enough to their “do I look fat in this toga?” inquiries.

Since then, women have carried on this unique tradition and given it its own contemporary twist. This recipe is extremely heart-healthy, not low in fat (but BIG on taste), and has your daily requirements of relaxation, laughter, secret-sharing, and all-around dishing.

Ingredients

1-99 girlfriends (depending on the size of your tub)

1 bucket of frozen daiquiris

2 bottles of white wine

1 bottle strawberry soda

1 cheese and pastry Tiropite

Blue corn chips and salsa con queso dip

Homemade gingersnaps

Decadent homemade bark

1 iPod of music

Sexy coloured lights

A windy, cold, early-fall evening under the stars

Preheat tub to 98 degrees. Add girlfriends one at a time, then mix in the daiquiris, wine, and soda. Let simmer. Add snacks and great tunes. While cooking at a low boil, sprinkle generously with husband and kid stories, stir in several naughty tales, and top off with a hearty helping of gossip.

After five hours, remove pruned, relaxed girlfriends and wrap in a towel.

Be sure to repeat every few months, as needed.

(Thanks for the amazing evening Kelley, Jackie, Wendy and Helen – it was great!)

1- Why are so many people driving around with earphones? Isn’t that unsafe? Don’t they have regular radios? What are they listening to?

2- I like a song with a good “Naaa na na” (like Counting Crows’ “Long December“) or an upbeat “La deee da da” (like Amanda Marshall’s “If I Didn’t Have You“). It makes it more fun to sing along to.

3- I really feel like a moron when I push on a door and it sticks… and then I see the huge “pull” sign staring back at me.

4- I just can’t keep up on the tech gadgets and terms of today… all I used to know was “beeper” (or “pager”), computer, and Nintendo. Now there’s droids and nanos, DSs and BBMs, blah blahs and blah blahs. If for no other reason I should have kids so they can keep me “in the know” (LOL ppl >3 omg LMFAO 4evs

5- I hate when I’m eating sausage and bite down on one of those hard bits… I try to pretend it didn’t happen. It’s like when you’re at a restaurant with a friend and they find a hair in their food – how are you supposed to happily (and contently) continue eating your meal?

I was driving by an elementary school today and I saw this little girl trip. She’s didn’t fall or get hurt, but her cheeks went bright pink and her classmates started to snicker and laugh. I felt so badly for her. Every one of us has had a few of those “moments” that make teenage-dom that much more awkward and mortifying. It got me to thinking…

The first memory I have of wanting to melt into the ground and disappear was in Sunday school (which actually happened to be on Wednesdays… wonder why we didn’t call it Wednesday school…) Anyway, I was about 10 or 11 and the previous week I had had my heart set on wearing this training bra I had tucked away in my undie drawer. So my mom let me – I wore it to church class (what a novel place to explore my sexuality) and then, when I changed into my leotard for tap class afterward, I stuffed my clothes, including the bra, into my bag. The next week I arrived early at the big church hall where we were sectioned off into “classes,” so I threw my workbook on the table and wandered off to talk to friends. When class got started I made my way back to the group and noticed that all the kids were staring at me, trying to stifle their mischievous grins. I couldn’t understand why so I pulled out my chair and sat down at the table and still, everyone, including the teacher, was giving me this strange look. Finally, the teacher softly said, “Let’s open our books to the Our Father” and when I reached for my book, I saw it – my bra had been wedged into my book and was sprawled out on display in the middle of the table for everyone to see…

The other really mortifying adolescent moment came years later in high school. It was freshmen year and I’d fallen head-over-heels ga-ga for this tall surfer Jon Mule. We were in PE (gym) together, and one Friday we were playing volleyball – I was on the team at my middle school so I was SUPER stoked to be able to play a sport somewhat well in front of him so I could impress him. At the end of the period the kid behind me (this short obnoxious little dillhole) tried to spike it – I was standing maybe six feet away from him, he shot way too low (or I was much too tall- big surprise!) and the ball literally BOUNCED off of my face. I was MORTIFIED. I ran with the other girls into the locker room and hid in a bathroom stall. I waited till I heard everyone clear out and went to my locker to slowly change back into my regular clothes, sniffling and feeling humiliated. I knew I had missed my bus but it was better than letting people see me – I had this huge, red circle on the entire side of my face. And my eyes were red too from crying.

When I finally trudged out of the girls’ locker room into the hall, I couldn’t believe it – Jon Mule was standing there. He’d been waiting for me the whole time. “I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he said. “That was quite a hit.” And I probably did one of those oh-hee-hee-hee-heeeee teenage laughs and shrugged it off, and luckily my face was already red because I’m sure I was blushing…