it's not juice, it's lemonade!

The End

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Tue, 07 May 2013 01:29:00 +0000

When blogging feels like a chore and you have nothing you feel like blabbing about to the world wide web, you know that your site has run its course.

I did not forget about my 30 goals before I turn 30. I am half way through the last year of my twenties, and the dread I once felt about starting a new decade has dissipated. Time marches on and I don't give a fuck. The enthusiasm to SEIZE THE DAY as if life as I know it will end on November 2nd, 2013 has waned. My goals are still achievable - they are all things I would like to do - but placing a time limit on them seems absurd now.

This blog meant more to me when I was bumbling my way though grad school. I was a 24 year old who thought she knew it all but really knew nothing. This blog meant more to me when I got angry at the drop of a hat and my first instinct was to blog about it, using the internet as my tool for catharsis like I would my journal in the days of paper and pen, and then, with LiveJournal. I still get angry at the drop of a hat, but I have found different outlets for my anger. Unleashing to some random people who happen to drop by my blog is no longer one of them.

I've outgrown this medium. I don't have the time or dedication to sit here and pound out something meaningful that few people will read. In the words of Sweet Brown, "Ain't nobody got time for that."

And, so, this is the end. La fin. Yes, I have quit before, and I came crawling back because I thought I still had something to say. But this time, I have nothing else to say here. It's been fun.

Adieu!

peace & love
x-ine

2013

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Wed, 02 Jan 2013 02:11:00 +0000

Here we are, at the beginning of a new year. With it comes expectations, hopes, promises to be better.

While it doesn't take long to settle back into the status quo, a new year is a fresh slate - everything can start anew. You can reboot and refresh. And strive to achieve.

For me, I have the goals I set out back in November. I have not updated my progress in quite some time, that I know. The last 6 weeks of 2012 have been hectic and many changes are afoot. I have been learning a fair amount about myself and how I deal with stress (not school-related stress; and not well, seemingly). This holiday season has been an excellent opportunity to unwind at home. I have also learned more than ever how much my relationships have changed since I started working in Ottawa and it leaves me asking many questions that will have to be answered as this year progresses.

I wish you all - however many of you still check in to read what I have to write - a very happy 2013. May it be prosperous, joyous, and your best year yet!

Status update

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Sat, 24 Nov 2012 04:26:00 +0000

Holla!
Well, folks, I figured it was high time I check in on my progress thus far with these lofty goals I set for myself.

So far - not bad. But definitely room for improvement.
- Now two weeks sugar-free - minus that "sugar-free" cinnamon dolce latte last week and kettlecorn popcorn tonight. I am not calling these cheats. If you do in fact think I cheated, you can voice your opinion in the comments (note that I will probably ignore you).

- Haven't done much meditation of late. But in my defense (you bet I am going to defend myself), life has been hectic. There are a few *crazy* things happening at the moment (no, I am not blogging about them) and I haven't too much free time to sit and close my mind. I am not travelling to Montreal this weekend (hence why I am blogging at 11 pm on a Friday night) so I will be able to remedy that this weekend.

- Movies: I am modifying my original goal of "classics" because - really? I certainly don't watch close to 30 whatever movies in a year. Last week I saw Skyfall. Excellent. Daniel Craig. Guns. Sexual innuendos Need I say more? Tonight: Paul. Actually hilarious. If you haven't seen it and are in the mood to laugh, hit up your nearest Ottawa Public Library branch and give it a whirl. I like cheap entertainment. But FREE entertainment is even better.

-Food: what you've surely been waiting for. Time to post recipes & reviews of the new recipes I tried! I missed last week's new recipe thing so I doubled up this week.

Last night I made ...

Kale chips. MEH.

Everyone and their uncle has been raving about kale chips for the last while so I finally (I know, bad nutrition-person) decided to see what the fuss was all about. I used a recipe from the Food Network (Crispy Kale Chips) and was anticipating a delicious and healthy alternative to potato chips.

I was underwhelmed to say the least. First, these fuckers baked for nearly an hour so that they could be dry and "crispy". Second, they still taste kinda chewy. Third, a whole head of kale and THIS (above) is all I got. PFFT. Over and out. So not worth the hype.

Tonight was my turn to cook since I had been slacking as of late. Thanks to the shared genius of myself and ladylaptop, we decided to try a Moroccan-inspired dish: quinoa with squash and carrot stew:

Winner, winner, chicken dinner!

Now THIS was delicious. The spices blended together beautifully and it had a nice kick. I managed to present it pretty much as suggested and it was well received by the ladies. If you're looking for a hearty vegetarian meal on a cool and wet night ... might I suggest this stew?

Still some things I would like to accomplish for this month, so stay tuned (spoiler alert: there may be a mini-rant about a stupid article I saw in the Gazette today in the works.)

peace & love.

30 x 30

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Mon, 12 Nov 2012 17:42:00 +0000

I turned 29 at the beginning of this month, and leading up to this birthday, I was in full crisis mode: OMG IT'S GOING TO BE THE LAST YEAR OF MY 20S AND LIFE AS I KNOW IT WILL SOON BE OVER.

Which of course is ridiculous, because 30 is the new 20, and by the time I am 39, 40 will be the new 20. I will be eternally young, damn it!

But seriously, I have had to get over this notion that no longer being a 20-something is some sort of death sentence. I know plenty of people in their 30s who are no different from the people I know in their 20s - maybe a few more grey hairs (and who are we kidding, I've had greys since I was a teenager) and most definitely more perspective on life, which is a good thing. And they all still know how to party.

So I have come to accept the inevitable fate that I will be 30 next year. But in the meantime, I want this last-year-of-my-20s to be meaningful. I want to look back without regrets on what I have accomplished in my 20s and move on to the next decade of life with confidence and a clear direction.

I was inspired by The Sugar Scientist and Celine to do a 30 by 30 list: 30 things I want to do before I turn 30. I had many good ideas while I was running the other night - I seem to do my best thinking while running, yet can never retain these wonderful thoughts after the fact. Maybe I should run CONSTANTLY to achieve maximal brilliance? Or actually write the stuff down when I get home. THAT would be logical.

So here it is. I reserved the right to not publish items on the list that are way too personal for sharing on the blog. I actually don't need to be accountable to the internet for everything I intend to do.

Health/fitness goals:

1. Run a half-marathon and a full marathon
2. Run a minimum of 10 km a week, every week, including in the dead of winter
3. Sign up for a new activity that I have never tried before - any suggestions?
4.
5. Meditate once a day - yoga counts, which means more yoga/week
6. Sugar ban: spend 30 days without consuming added sugar/refined sugar products/sweets/chocolate - I was inspired by many people to do this and actually started my sugar ban 3 days ago. So far so good.
7. Eat vegetarian once a week - THIS will be a challenge because I love meat.

Domestic/career/savings goals:

8. Try one new recipe every week - ladylaptop, I'll need your help on this so long as we're living together
9. Purge stuff from my closet every 3 months - including the stuff that has been sitting in my room for nearly a year
10.
11. Find a job that I am passionate about
12. Save an additional $20,000 cash towards my future x, y, z
13. Take the plunge into the investing world

I’ve always wanted, but never gotten around to buying goals:

14. Buy a car - ok, ok, I haven't "not gotten around to buying a car" as I only got my licence 7 months ago. What's it to you anyway?
15. Indulge in one major treatment: laser eye surgery, permanent hair removal, or spider vein removal
16. Indulge in one luxury item out of my price range
17. Get a white ink tattoo - this may not go over well with some people.

Expanding my horizons goals:

18. Read 30 books that I have not read before - suggestions, please!
19. Watch 30 classic movies - again, suggestions, please!
20. Write 30 blog posts. THIS one counts!
21. Write at least one meaningful article
22. Make something creative with my own two hands
23. Participate in a cultural activity once a month (a la Jen Lancaster)
24. Try a new type of cuisine once a month - any adventurous folk want to help me with this one?
25. Learn Arabic - enough to not feel like a total outcast around my Middle Eastern friends
26. Volunteer for a cause that I care about

Just because goals:

27. Pick a direction and go on a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants road trip
28. Get an adrenaline rush doing something I would normally be too scared to do
29. Go balls-out and have good old-fashioned FUN at least once a month
30. Turn my flaws into strengths

And there you have it, Interwebs. My epic list.
I'll keep all y'all posted on my progress, especially since I have 29 more posts to come up with (which will also coincide with my 300th blog post overall - whoa!)

Remembrance

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Sun, 11 Nov 2012 07:17:00 +0000

There are some people out there who think that Remembrance Day is about glorifying war. I think that cannot be farther from the truth. This day is about honouring the people who sacrificed their lives in two of the bloodiest wars of the last century. And for those who survived, it is but one way to thank them for serving our nation. Whether or not you agree with the politics of war is your prerogative, but for me, this day is the only connection I have to my grandfather. I never met him as he passed away over 40 years ago. He was deployed to England where he met my grandmother, who had already lost her first husband within 3 months of being married. They fell in love. He survived his ship being torpedoed in Italy and came back to England to marry my grandmother and bring her to Canada. I would not be here today had he not chosen to serve our nation and I am grateful that he did.

So I wear my poppy every year and pause to say thanks every November 11th at 11 am because my grandpa was a veteran and he will never know how proud I am of him.

Lest we forget.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up the quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

- John McCrae

Back, again. Again.

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Sun, 16 Sep 2012 17:41:00 +0000

Amazingly, I still have five followers despite the fact that I have neglected the blog for the last 5 months. There isn't much for me to say for myself that does not involve bitching about my current "life situation" - and it's totally a been there, done that situation so there is no sense in going there - again. Suffice it to say that this time around, I am better off financially.

But that's really about it.

Perhaps I am feeling especially *blah* right now because I am seriously hungover (ok, fine, DEFINITELY feeling especially *blah* because I am seriously hungover), but it's been a good month and a half that I have not felt myself. It's been a roller coaster of emotions, but if anything, I am consistently angry and bitter - and though I am good at being a snarky jerk, it's usually in snippets and not on a daily basis.

There is no sense in blaming my situation for being this way because surely I am not the only one with their life in flux and with the people they love most in the world living in a different city/province. Yet I can't seem to just shake it. And not being able to shake it has left me complacent. I have never lacked motivation and confidence quite as much as now. In fact, I think I feel worse now than I did 2 years ago when I was going through the same thing. This lack of motivation feeds me feeling sorry for myself. And that makes me angry because I hate feeling sorry for myself. Yet I still am struggling to bring myself to actually DO anything about it. Knowing this and feeling this is stressful. I am constantly feeling on edge and it's taking a toll on me emotionally and physically. I find myself making (more) stupid choices (drinking more than I should have last night would be one) and generally being distracted and hence stupid (in the last two months alone, I've managed to lose my cell phone and trip on a sidewalk while running (resulting in a highly attractive road rash), among other things).

It sounds so ridiculous. And it is. I know what I need to do - kick apathy's ass - and I just need to get into gear and fucking do it already.

Maybe after a nap.

(I'm only half-kidding).

wtf wednesday minus 1 day

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 12:13:00 +0000

Dear brides-to-be,

Crash dieting before your wedding is a bad idea. Inserting a feeding tube is an even worse idea.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/15/fashion/weddings/Losing-Weight-in-Time-for-the-Wedding.html

Don't do it, for the love of all that is holy.

Seriously.

Wacky weather

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Mon, 19 Mar 2012 19:49:00 +0000

It's the last day of winter in the great white north and it's 24 degrees Celsius in Ottawa. PLUS TWENTY FOUR DEGREES CELSIUS. On March 19th. IN CANADA.

Global warming, anyone?

Wednesday wtf (late)

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 12:32:00 +0000

I didn't find any news-worthy wtf's for this week, so how about this:
This week's morale-boosting contest is to write an ode to our department. Yes, that is right, we are having a poetry contest at work.

I feel like I am in grade five.

Wednesday morning wtf

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 13:31:00 +0000

Sometimes I wonder why I want to move back to Quebec, when this continues to be news:
NOUVELLES TRES IMPORTANTS

Really, guy?

L'accent aigu va sauver la langue française?

Of all the things Quebecers should be worried about (climbing sales tax rates, declining education and health care systems, terrible infrastructure, employment ...), the press continues to remind us that the number one priority should be saving a language that the majority of the people speak ... lest us dirty anglophones continue to pollute the language with our dirty English ways.

It's a non-issue with the people I know, anglo or franco, so why are we letting the 5 same people continue to spew diatribe about "protecting" something that isn't even endangered? Can't our tax dollars be put to better use? Can't journalists cover more hard-hitting topics (see above)?

I thought we lived in a global culture, a tolerant society?
That's what we're led to believe, but the people who govern/criticize those who govern/waste time planning language rallies in la belle province tell us otherwise, on a daily basis.

/rant over

OMG HABS

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 04:09:00 +0000

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Pierre Gauthier, I truly despise you. You are a bonehead who would rather save face than save our hockey team. You have turned the Habs into the laughingstock of the NHL.

Just take a look at the twitter - people don't like you. People want you fired. I am one of those people.

Is it possible that this - right now - is worse than the 90s?

Because I have feeling what's going down is seriously going to come back to bite us in the ass.

Also - I am tired of being embarrassed to be a fan of this team - from "interim coaches" to trades in the middle of a game. Gauthier, you put the ASS in classy, but you, sir, are NOT classy. Go suck rocks.

First rant of 2012

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 04:34:00 +0000

My original intended audience for this post was to the people of Ottawa. I experienced such a cluster-fuck of humanity today that I am still steamed about it. I realize that it isn't the best way to start 2012, but I need to get it out of my system and move on. I admit that I have cooled down sufficiently since I originally typed up this post this afternoon, and it dawned on me that my problem is with the kids in this city today. You might say, well, you're hardly old enough to be a cranky old geezer with your "these kids today" monologues. Maybe so. But I am going to bitch about it anyway, and I'll be damned if people my age don't agree with me.

So, to the jerks on the bus today:
You need to learn some god damn manners when it comes to taking public transit. I come from a city that is marginally more civilized (and definitely far from perfect) but you know what, we have queues to get on a bus. Because, fuck YEAH, if you show up first, you damn well do have the right to get on board first. What the fuck is up with clamouring around the door of the bus as soon as it pulls into the stop? Where is the civility?

Of course, I am a fairly rational human ~~bring~~ being and I realize that I do not have a disability, nor do I require adapted transport, and I am not with child or pushing around a carriage with a child inside, but god damn it, I am lugging around a huge suitcase and would appreciate the slightest bit of consideration. I would also appreciate not being pushed and having to practically stand on said suitcase as you try to squeeze yourself onto an over-crowded bus, at rush hour, especially when another bus is but 30 seconds away. I would appreciate even more the THREE OF YOU not pushing your way past me as I try to get off the bus, not realizing or caring that I am trying to drag a suitcase behind me, because your discussion about a $250 haircut was more important. FUCK YOU.

Seriously, though. As steamed as I was about the bitches literally pushing me aside, this apparent obliviousness is a chronic problem on public transit. How many times have I seen a parent struggling to get their carriage on the bus, try to push their way to section where the benches fold up to fit the carriage, only to quietly ask if the passengers occupying this area to move their god damn asses so that their carriage doesn't block the whole aisle? And to see these passengers actually be annoyed that they had to move their big fat ass to another empty seat? Is it really that inconvenient for you and your backpack to go sit somewhere else and let the parent with the baby, baby bag, and baby carriage sit in the area designated for them? At one point the buses played a pre-recorded message reminding passengers to give up these seats ... it's a sad state of affairs when you need to be reminded to be courteous.

Well I am glad I got that out of my system.

End of 2011

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 14:58:00 +0000

Some people can't wait for 2011 to end, as if something completely different is going to happen the second the clock strikes 12 tonight.

I can't say I am eagerly awaiting this year to end, because all things considered, it's been a pretty good year. I accomplished some things I am really proud of, found myself a job in the public service, and finally got myself back in shape. I ended this year on a high note, too, by taking part in the Resolution Run on Mount Royal last night (-12, blowing snow, you know it). I was also really happy to be there for my pal L, who completed her first race!

All that said, I am looking forward to a new calendar year to continue an ongoing goal to be less wimpy. This may sound vague, but the details are unnecessary for this blog. Suffice it to say that I may be tough(er) when it comes to being physically active, but that's about it.

As I barrel through the end of my 20s, I would also like to take advantage of what life has to offer, so yet another vague goal (though meaningful to me) is to be less boring. I need to stop being a hermit and have more fun, before I get old and crotchety.

I hope that you all have a wonderful end to 2011 tonight, and wish you the very best for the year ahead. Live it up while you can, since the Apocalypse is coming anyway. :/

Happy 2012!

love and peace.
x

4 months later...

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 05:21:00 +0000

Hello! It's me! Do you remember me? It seems that I am getting worse and worse at maintaining my blog. In fact, it took a fellow tweep (that's what we call people we follow on twitter, right?) to tell me that my blog was in fact hijacked by some jerk trying to break into a blog that I follow (thanks again, @stevofarnham).
So since I last posted, a lot has happened. I'll break it down it point-form, since I am lazy (and it is past my bedtime):

- ran and completed the Montreal half-marathon in just under 2 hours (! so not expecting to break 2 hours) under hot and sticky conditions (+25C plus humidity, at the end of September, what?)

Yeah, it's a proof. I'm not paying for it. This is the final sprint at the race.

- went to 3 weddings in 6 weeks, which set me back about $500 (which included a gorgeous black lace dress that I got to wear all 3 times). But it was so worth it to celebrate such a happy occasion for all those wonderful people. I even attended my first Holud ceremony and got to wear a gorgeous sari!
- stepped off of a bus, rolled my ankle sideways until it made a crunching noise, ended up with ligamentosis (basically, the ligament stretched off the bone and snapped back) and a diagnosis of "loose ankles". Spent my birthday morning getting X-rays to confirm that I didn't rip, shred, or otherwise mutilate my ligament and/or break something.
- turned 28, drank Tequila, was very hungover the next day.

My cube at work, full-out.

So, I love my birthday. What's it to you?

- started physio the next week with hot Australian physiotherapist, where I almost passed out during an ultrasound of my ankle. #winning
- have not kept up with my physio exercises and am actually noticing right now that the spot I injured is still tender. I should probably get back to physio...
- went to NYC with the lovely roommate/partner in crime @ladylaptop and the equally wonderful @binks_s for a weekend of dining, drinking, and living it up. We were particularly pleased to have discovered C. Wonder (located in SoHo) before the cool kids of Manhattan. Go us! (also anxiously awaiting for them to start shipping to Canada). I will also mention here that Joe Fresh of Loblaws/Real Canadian Superstore fame has not one, but two boutiques in Manhattan. Yes, Joe Fresh has turned ... classy?

So, Joe Fresh is, like, from Canada. Sooo exotic, you know?

Ahh, New York

- rented a chalet with some friends in the Laurentians. Had an awesome relaxing weekend - being in a constant state of inebriation can do that to you - but the good kind, not the "I'M SOOOOOOOO DRUNK ......WOOOO! MORE SHOTS!" kind (see my birthday, tequila). However, the hot tub gave me folliculitis. (that's inflammation of the hair follicles in case you wanted to know. You probably didn't, but here we are). Everywhere. Needless to say, our chalet fees were fully reimbursed and they have offered us another free stay to prove their hot tubs don't breed skin diseases. I may be slightly naive, but I'll believe it. And I won't turn down a free weekend away.

- got a shiny new toy - the BlackBerry Playbook as a belated birthday gift from mon chum. I am one step closer to being high tech, look at me go!

- Christmas baking marathon complete (if I feel nice I may post some x-ine family recipes)... and holy sweet Jesus, it's Christmas in 5 days! (I am really excited despite the lack of snow - I'm talking to YOU, Mother Nature).

In the swing of things chez mes parents

All dressed up and ready to party... my little man in his tux.

- Jacques Martin fired. Not breaking news. But the fall-out has been a real shitstorm. You see, Montreal is located in a province where most people speak French, ergo, any team that is based in Montreal should be francophone. There is a flaw to this logic because 1) there is a serious lack of French Canadian talent and 2) what little there is doesn't want to deal with the crazy shit that goes on here so they decide to make their millions and live in anonymity in places like Tampa Bay. And as for the coaching situation - funny how no one gives a rat's ass what language the head coach of the Alouettes speaks, but GOD FORBID the coach of LA SAINTE FLANELLE is unilingual ... because the Habs were once a symbol of the oppressed French majority, way back before the Quiet Revolution and ensuing stuff that happened. Yeah, I just got all language debate up in here. First world problems, you know.

But before I draw some ire, hate, and trolls, I will stop here with a simple message: a very Merry Christmas to you and to yours. May your holidays be filled with joy, laughter, and lots of delicious food. I know mine will be.

Peace, love, and Tequila shots.

x-ine

Why do I run?

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 02:50:00 +0000

I had never been asked this until recently. And it wasn't until I was asked that I realized that my answer ("just because") was hopelessly inadequate. I'll also admit I've been wanting to write this post ever since I heard Mark Sutcliffe talking about his book, Why I Run.

What are you running from?
I've been asked this as well - and my immediate response to it was, in an attempt to be amusing, "my past" (hey, I never said I was successful at being funny). But then I thought about it a little more, and I realized that "running from my past" was kinda how it all started in the first place.

Three years ago (to the month even!), I embarked on my first journey to the north. I was alone and unprepared - I was staying in a trailer with no phone, no internet, and no tv (until a generous donation helped me out with the tv bit - I watched A LOT of Olympic coverage during my stay). I had a lot of time on my hands and very few people to share it with. This trip also happened to coincide with an unpleasant point of my life, and I needed a distraction from my inner demons. After a night of feeling sorry for myself and eating half a pint of ice cream, I decided enough was enough, so I laced up my Asics, headed out the door, and started running. It was hard. And awful. And I hated it. I pushed myself to finish 15 minutes of continuous running. I counted down every last second and could not wait to stop.

Yet I was hooked. The next time, I tried for 18 minutes, then 20, then 25. By the end of the month, I was running close to 45 minutes and it was a little less hard, not so awful, and I definitely did not hate it anymore. In fact, I was starting to love it, despite the blisters that erupted on my feet (and still do, to this day. No pain, no gain, that's what they say, right?). It felt so good to just take off down the street, music blaring in my ears, with nothing to do but take in the sights around me. I must admit that having a spectacular backdrop (the boreal forest holds a special place in my heart) was a great motivator, but it was the alternative (sitting in a trailer, wallowing) that really got me off my ass.

When I came back to Montreal, I was ready to tackle what had alluded me for so long: Mount Royal. When my old roommate had told she was going running on the mountain, I had thought she was nuts. But now that I had built up some endurance, I figured I could handle it. Well, not quite. My first attempts were pathetic. The incline! It was hard! I found myself hating running again, and thought maybe I just wasn't cut out for it. But I didn't quit. And though I started out huffing and puffing up a quarter of the mountain and back, by the following summer, I was able to run the whole thing, from my apartment and back (a good 13 km). And I haven't looked back ever since.

I'm not a fast runner. I'm not a particularly "good" runner - I have no technique. The only running gear I splurge on is shoes (just bought a pair of neon Nikes) (I've also invested a fair amount in bandaids for my blisters). I don't time myself - beyond checking when I leave and comparing that to when I return - I just turn on my iPod and go wherever my feet want to take me. I'm not part of any running clubs, nor do I have a running partner. I love the solitude of running. It's just me and the ground beneath my feet. It's time I truly have to myself, where I can push everything out of my mind and just focus on the task at hand: getting somewhere. It's exhilarating. And liberating.

And perhaps all this is why I run - and continue to love to run - because I don't take it too seriously. I'll admit that I am proud of being able to reach small milestones - finishing a 10K in under an hour, doing the crazy stairs at Mount Royal 6 or 7 times, or pushing myself to get that extra few kilometers in because my legs just aren't that tired yet. That's what keeps me motivated - there is always potential to go farther.

How much farther? Well, funny you should ask, because ... I will be running the Montreal half marathon in September! Perhaps it doesn't have the same impact as saying "I'm running a marathon" but it's still no small feat. I'm proud that I've made it this far. But my objectives for this race are no different from any other run: I want to 1) finish it and 2) enjoy it.

And now you know why I run.

Random thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Tue, 28 Jun 2011 02:45:00 +0000

Hiyo, friends and followers.

So I'm settling into life in a new city. As expected, the blood, sweat and tears that usually come with my moves made an appearance - at one point simultaneously, as mon chum and I tried to get my dresser from the U-Haul to the 3rd floor of the condo. Not fun. And admitting my wimpiness in front of my boyfriend was beyond mortifying, even though he's already well aware of my limitations (after almost 7 years together, he pretty much sees right through me).

However, I have spent pretty much every weekend since I started my new job in Montreal, so it's not like I've really dug my heels into the cultural side of Ottawa (rib festival excepted, omg YUM). I can't help it - Montreal is home, and as much as I love my roommate and really enjoy my new job (I get to criticize other peoples' work all day - have I found my niche, or what?) - I can't help but feel a little homesick. I suppose it is to be expected when you put your entire life on hold to pursue a career, and I should not be whiny about it because I've finally got what I wanted, job-wise.

Anyway.

I don't have much other content to warrant a full post, so I am copping out and providing the rest in point form, for your convenience:

What the fuck is up with people who cut in line and feel entitled to do so? Since I am travelling back and forth so frequently, and as I don't own a car (or a full licence - long story), I've started taking the bus. Now here is the thing with the bus to and from Ottawa. It is really popular. As in, you need to show up at least 40 minutes before the scheduled departure time to guarantee yourself a spot. This totally ruins my Sunday as my travel time stretches to 3.5 or 4 hours, but whatevs. Anyway, last week, as I was waiting in line, some lady showed up, 10 minutes before the departure, and tried to insert herself in the line, in front of me. At this point, there were at least 50 people behind me. Oh, hell NO, she was not getting in front of ME, so I stared her down and she had the nerve to cut in behind me. The man in front of me and I kindly pointed out that the line was way back at the end of the terminal, but she opted to play dumb, claiming there was someone waiting for her on the bus. Bull. And if it were true, too fucking bad, lady, show up on time and earn your seat like everyone else! Granted, the person she cut in front of didn't have the balls to say anything, but what makes her think she can just show up and insert herself into the queue? And it's not like she was a young little smart ass who may not have known any better; this was a grown woman, an older woman, acting like she owned the place. In the end, neither of us made the bus (the man in front of me actually got the last seat, that asshat. If only I hadn't stopped for a bottle of water...) but if I had missed the bus because of an asshole who thought they could just cut right in and no one had the nerve to say anything, I would have been livid. Is that just me?
Vanity plates. For reasons unbeknownst to me, Ontario continues to think it is a good idea to sell vanity plates. I suppose there is a lot of money to be made when one wants to customize their licence plate to say something most likely tacky. Case in point: as I was walking back to the condo the other week, I noticed a car parked in front with a plate that read "Whazzup". This was a source of lolz to me, because, really? Who chooses THAT as their vanity plate slogan? Clearly some yo who thinks he's a thug, right? Well, moments later, I had my answer, as a chubby, squat, middle aged, balding white man came out of my building and hopped into said car. There are no words. Besides "whazzup", evidently.
LOL speak in regular conversations. This topic speaks for itself (pathetic pun intended). Perhaps I am prematurely turning into a cranky old broad (maybe not prematurely), but the state of the English language today is appalling. It is one thing to use cute little acronyms when chatting online, but inserting these terms into everyday talk is just plain obnoxious. Saying "LOL" instead of actually laughing out loud is stupid. It is also insincere. If the joke was really that funny, you would literally laugh out loud and not tell people, in a short-handed manner, that you are laughing out loud. "Bee-tee-dubs" and "JK" are equally irritating.

Next time: tales of the royal couple visiting our nation's capital and my attempts to become part of the royal entourage.

Until then ... ta!

Moving

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Tue, 10 May 2011 18:30:00 +0000

I have a love/hate relationship with moving. It's mostly a hate relationship, really. Granted, this is only the third time in the last 6 years that I've had to move, yet I dread it each and every time (Contrast that with a friend of mine who has moved SIX times in the last 6 years. And that doesn't count her pending 7th move in a few weeks).

I hate having my stuff, and therefore my life, thrown into upheaval while I pack everything into boxes. I hate having to ask people to help me move because I'm still in my cheap, poor student mentality (you would be too if your salary for the last 6 months had been below the poverty line). I hate the anxiety I get because of these things. This is singularly the most stressful thing I can think to do. Besides maybe singing in front of an audience. Or attempting to drive (my most recent experience resulted in sweaty palms and me yelling, THERE'S A CAR BEHIND ME! Rest assured, that given my age, it is quite embarrassing to admit that I have only a learner's permit. I won't get into the story behind it).

Blood, sweat, and tears? You bet! Last time I moved, all three were involved, simultaneously at some points (my cat may or may not have been stepped on in the process as well. I think he is still traumatized). I am dreading moving my (lovely, comfy) sofa because it WILL require taking my door off its hinges to fit it through ... and then ... getting it down the stairs? Oh, God, I'm getting terror sweats just thinking about it.

On the other hand, moving to another city gives me the opportunity to purge. I am only moving the things I really need (and only some of that will actually be coming with me to Ottawa since ladylaptop invited me to move in with her :D). James Hetfield bobblehead? Class notes from CEGEP (yes, I AM that big of a nerd)? Not so much. My extensive liquor cabinet (keep in mind I currently live alone)? HELL YES!

Sorry, James, you won't be rocking out with me in my new home.

However, I will be drinking in new home.

I can't really say I enjoy sorting through my stuff, but it will feel good to pare down the copious amount of stuff that I own. Note the tense of the previous sentence. Because, yeah, I am leaving in 5 days and I currently have one box packed. What can I say? I procrastinate. Hence, the stress. It's a vicious cycle.

Guess I should get packing?

Sigh.

Tipping

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Thu, 05 May 2011 13:00:00 +0000

I have a bone to pick with tipping. I understand the reasoning behind it - a gratuity is common courtesy for someone who is providing you with a service. I tip my hairdresser, my esthetician, my cab driver, etc., and am usually quite generous when their service is above and beyond what I expected.

The same goes for waiters and bartenders when dining out. A good service will net a server somewhere between 18 and 20% - with the upper range usually reserved for those exceptional servers who actually enhance your dining experience (and good friends and family members, of course). When the service is ok - not bad, but not great, I will always give at least 15%.

It doesn't happen too often that I will tip below the 15% range. If I am not too impressed with the service - meaning I have to wait half an hour to order a drink in an otherwise empty resto-bar and then wait another 20 minutes for the drink to actually appear, watch my friends be served a pint of beer that is NOT EVEN FULL (and have the audacity to charge $8 for it), be given a menu to order food then take them away, saying the kitchen doesn't actually open until 6, whoopsie, then after finally eating overpriced food, wait another 45 minutes for the bill (and eventually go stand at the bar to get said bill) because you're too busy flirting with the other customers, then don't be surprised when I am not willing to give you 15%. To be blunt, your service was not good at all and there was no excuse for it, because your establishment was pretty much EMPTY. I am an understanding person if you are the only server and you are trying to manage 15 tables at once. You had 3 tables to attend to. That's it.

So, yeah, fine, you were pissed when you saw what I left you (10%) and you handed me my receipt without saying thank you. I get that. You pay taxes on your tips, blah blah blah. I know how it works. But then to have the nerve to ask if I was from Quebec (in English, after I spoke French to you all evening long), as if I didn't understand how tipping works? Well.

Yes, I know EXACTLY how tipping works. However, your tip is not your God-given right. I am not OBLIGED to give you 15% if your service was shit. For you to have a sense of entitlement, to feel that you DESERVE 15% when you did absolutely nothing to merit it (pretending to be extra bubbly doesn't count, it just makes us think you are on drugs) is appalling. Tips are something you earn, not something you are given just because you are a waiter.

Needless to say, I will not be going back to said establishment. Cool enough location, prices and service? Not so much. The additional snark at the end of the night was also not appreciated.

Latest blah blah

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Fri, 29 Apr 2011 03:05:00 +0000

Let me start by declaring I have no further comments on what transpired yesterday night in Boston. You may refer to my twitter feed for commentary/other people who spend more time dissecting our beloved hockey team and the games. Suffice it to say, I am suddenly less interested in the playoffs.

But that is not the reason why I have taken it upon myself to blog this evening. For one, I finally have some time to myself. I like being busy (especially when it involves beer/hockey) but I am quite content sitting at home on my comfy couch. Truth be told, I am going to bed relatively soon as I am planning to get up at an ungodly hour to watch William and Kate get hitched. If you don't know who I am referring to, you are clearly living under a rock. And if you think I'm a loser/moron/something else equally mean and possibly true anyway, well ... fine. All a matter of opinion, anyway. My justification (not that it is required) is that I'm one-quarter Brit. And I respect the monarchy.

Now, on to the news I promised to share with my faithful reader(s?) some time ago. I have alluded to changes being afoot in my life. So here it is. Tomorrow is my last day at low paying, less-than-entry-level job! This past week has been agonizingly slow - I've been showing up, physically, but mentally, I am so done. The only thing I'll miss about that place? The easy commute to work (5 minutes by foot). Oh, and the awesome girls in the same boat as me, who I am praying will find their way out soon enough (right, B?)

I know I should be thankful that I've been employed there since finishing school, but I'm not one for just settling. I've spent a solid year looking for meaningful, career-starting work, and believe me, I've had many moments of despair and shed many tears. I also have a student loan - in the 5-figure range - that I need to start paying back, and significant payments are not an option when you're barely making enough to get by.

So, it is with great pleasure that I announce that as of next month, I am moving to Ottawa to begin my duties as a public servant! Many thanks go out to the lovely ladylaptop, who clued me into the job opening and will be spending A LOT of time with me for the next year! A big bottle of wine and my Mini-Eggs are already packed for when I arrive...

Spring fever

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 03:00:00 +0000

Apart from the dirty remnants of melted snow and garbage in the streets, I love spring. The sun starts to feel warm, the earth slowly turns green, and I can turn off the heating, crack open my windows, and pack away my winter boots, jackets, and mittens.

I love the feeling of renewal - the old gets washed away with April rain, bringing hope for something shiny and new. One of my favourite activities is a good old-fashioned "spring cleaning." I tend to go through spurts where I accumulate a lot of stuff - both physically and virtually - and getting rid of what no longer serves me is a nice feeling. Who doesn't love a good Facebook/Twitter/Google Reader purge and/or a clutter-free closet/bookcase/kitchen?

Spring is a signal for the start of my running season. Since I failed in my goal to run the half-marathon last year (I blamed my thesis for that), I've been adamant at keeping up some form of training over the winter months. I'm a bit of a wimp when it comes to winter running, so I joined a cheap gym. I've reached the upper limit of my patience there, where there are too few machines that ACTUALLY work and too many people who hog said machines. I've been out on the mountain twice in the last week, and my poor legs (and feet, oh the blisters) are none too happy with me right now. Doing 5 km on a treadmill vs. 12.5 km up and down Mount Royal are not the same. Mark my words, I WILL RUN THE HALF-MARATHON THIS YEAR. I have 5 and a half months to train for it. And no thesis to get in the way.

Spring is synonymous with hockey playoffs. It's only a big deal in this fair city when the Habs are in. After last year's "miracle on ice" (yes, I'm stealing from Team USA's 1980 Miracle, I don't care), expectations are even higher than usual for our boys to succeed. This year, they've clinched a spot - before the last game of the season, for once - and though the seeding isn't final, everyone is already making predictions and over-analyzing everything... business as usual. That being said, this time next week, the city will be buzzing with excitement. I will be out drinking many beers and watching lots of hockey. The post-season brings the city together like nothing else (riots notwithstanding).

Spring also brings the promise of change. I've alluded to big changes previously, and though the timeline wasn't quite what I expected, there are in fact big changes afoot in my life. Nothing is set in stone, so I won't be broadcasting said changes to the internet just yet, but let's just say I should be on my way to bigger and better things. And I need to do some apartment hunting.

So here's to all things new, exciting, and clean! And GO HABS GO! (You knew I was going to throw that in there).

NHL = goon league

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Wed, 09 Mar 2011 04:13:00 +0000

Chara, I get it, you are normally not a dirty player.

But when you say shit like:

"Unfortunate when I pushed him that he leaned & jumped a little into the glass extension."

After a hit like this ...

Then you can go fuck yourself.

Get well soon, Patches. That's all that matters now.

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Tue, 15 Feb 2011 04:04:00 +0000

Who is Arcade Fire?

An awesome band that originated in the 514 and are now Grammy winners, much to the chagrin of many.
True story: my old roommate was friends with the bassist and before the band made it big, they hung out in my apartment.

Way to go, guys! You make us all proud!

Short and sweet...

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Sat, 12 Feb 2011 19:07:00 +0000

http://ismubarakstillpresident.com/

Changes, everywhere you look

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Mon, 31 Jan 2011 14:00:00 +0000

Thus far, 2011 has been all about changes.

Some of the biggest changes are taking place in the Middle East. I won't pretend that I am well versed in the social and political goings-on in that part of the world. However, I have taken a vested interest in what is happening in Egypt, particularly because part of my family heritage belongs there.

I have never been to Egypt. Most of what I know about it is from the history books (you know, the pyramids, Cleopatra, etc.) and from what my family has told me. I am, as would be expected from someone who loves food, quite familiar with the cuisine and have recreated some of the classics at home. I'll also admit that I am a little critical of other peoples' attempts to recreate certain dishes.

Most of the time, I don't feel connected to Egypt. I don't even speak Arabic. Yet, for some reason, the uprising has stirred me. I was glued to Al Jazeera (English) on Friday - absolutely amazed by what I saw. I felt a surge of pride watching the people of one of my mother countries stand up for democracy. It is so refreshing to see people brazenly oppose the autocrats and basically tell them to get the f- out. And as much as I am not part of the world - my family left Egypt many years ago and I have a handful of Egyptian friends - this revolution continues to intrigue me and inspire me.

It also serves to remind me how lucky we are, despite our own political problems, to live in a society where we have freedom. To not fear being disconnected from the rest of the world for standing up for what we believe in. To not receive threats from secret agents that we are saying too much about a political regime we don't believe in. I know I lose sight of it sometimes and I often need a reality check - just to put my life into context. I have been complaining - loudly and often - lately about how much I am not enjoying my work. I feel irrelevant and unimportant and that my skills and accomplishments mean absolutely fuck all.

Then I remember that as much as I am unhappy with where I am right now, at least I am employed. The counter-attack is that I should not, at this point, be settling for just any old job just because it provides income. Of course, that part of me is feeling deflated - it took me a long time to build up my self-confidence and with many job applications and few job interviews, it's been extremely difficult to stay up-beat. YES, I am employed and could be collecting chomage. YES, I am enjoying a comfortable, though slightly constrained life at this point. And YES, I understand that some of the choices I've made have me less employable than what I could have been had I chosen another route. I am aware of all these things, yet it hasn't prevented me from sliding in and out of funks. I tell myself, it could be worse. And in light of all the crazy things happening in the world right now, it certainly could be. (why it couldn't be better also crosses my mind, but that will spiral this whole thing even further... a never ending black hole of self-pity/scolding myself for feeling that way)

Anyway, the point of this was not to throw myself a pity party. Changes are afoot for the month of February, which have me feeling more optimistic. The biggest one thus far: being granted my degree. As soon as my supervisor approves my thesis online and some other approvals take place, I will officially become a MASTER OF SCIENCE. Some of the other changes ... will be discussed at a later time.

Well, I think that's enough about me to last us all for a little while.

Don't ask me to make football picks

noreply@blogger.com (x-ine) — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 04:30:00 +0000

So far, every team I have wanted to win in the NFL playoffs has lost.

I was really hoping to bust out my Bears cap for the Super Bowl. Denied. I was really hoping that the stupid Steelers would be eliminated by the Jets ... even though those same Jets absolutely crushed my Patriots last week. Denied.

Granted, I am not a huge NFL fan. I appreciate the hard-working, every day guys who play in the CFL much, much more. Plus, my Alouettes are the reigning Grey Cup champs ... AND were featured on 30 Rock this past week (awesome).

All that being said ... Go Packers! ('cuz I am not a fan of that sleazebag Big Ben).

... which means Pittsburgh is probably going to win. *groan*