Category Archives: pet peeves

Beating the November blah’s

While I sit in my home office and watch the last of the leaves cling to the bare branches, cold air blowing and not a reprieve in sight of the endless grey clouds, I contemplate the November blah’s. Here is a piece of advice that is surely written more for myself than anyone. GET OUTSIDE!

There I said it. Now, I have to do it. When the weather turns, the first thing I want to do is crank up the heat and stay cuddled in blankets drinking camomile tea. No I’m not sick, just reacting to this grey, cold weather.

Get out and run, my mind says. An avid outdoors-woman, I know the fresh air will cure whatever ails me. It always has, it always will. Why is it that the one thing I should do is also the last thing I want to do? Catch-22 indeed.

Here is a very real picture of the doom that awaits outside my front door. No filters, no PhotoShop people. This is November in all her gloom.

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Skinny Jeans.. The self-esteem killer

I love fashion just as much as the next girl. In fact, for someone who is not in fashion as a profession, I follow the trends pretty closely. I enjoy it. I like clothes, especially shoes and scarfs.

Sometimes it takes me a while to come around. Take for instance the pointy-toe pumps that were all the rage a few years ago. It took me a while to adopt the pointy-toe shoe trend. But when I did, I sported (admittedly) both boots and shoes with pointy toe.

The confidence crusher (A.K.A. skinny jeans)

Fast forward a few years later and out come the skinny jeans. I didn’t take to this fashion trend straight away either. I stood on the sidelines, watched and waited. I definitely witnessed a few misses, but when the time was right I jumped in. It felt odd at first, wearing jeans so snug. I had always worn my jeans loose, not baggy, but relaxed. The way I thought jeans were suppose to fit.

There is nothing relaxing about skinny jeans. I always feel the need to suck in my tummy or hid my back-side with a tunic. Let’s be honest, skinny jeans are a pain in the butt. If you have even the slightest love handles, it shows. A little tummy, it shows. They are fault-finding jeans. I guess they are called skinny jeans because only very skinny people can wear them.

Not wanting to end this blog on a bad note, I will say this in favor of the skinny jean. They are a great incentive for working out and staying in shape! And, they now have high waisted skinny jeans. Which are more comfortable than the traditional styles and help hold in any excess around the mid-section. Phew! Now, let’s wait and see what they come out with next.. and I hope it doesn’t have the word “skinny” in it.


Curl Controversy

Having curly hair is not just a hairstyle, it’s a way of life. It is as though you pass through a right of passage when you have curly hair. It is a process. Ask anyone with curly hair and they will tell you.

It starts with denial. This was a no-brainer for me because I didn’t always have curly hair. I had stick straight hair, glossy and smooth. Granted I was six years old, but my hair was easy and I didn’t think about it (admittedly, not many six years olds do think about their hair). But as the years passed and I turned twelve/thirteen my hair began to change. It curled. Not only did it curl, it grew fuzzy and coarse. And as this hair change occurred, I stood in staunch denial. I don’t have curly hair, this is just a phase. It will pass. Well, guess what… it didn’t.

So then began the straightening procedures. I pulled and tugged and dried the crap out of my hair in an attempt to have that smooth straight hair that everyone else had. It’s true, not many people rocked the curls back in the 80’s; unless you were a pop star and sported the afro (and were black or half black). The straightening didn’t work so well and often left me frustrated and with sore arms and hands.

Until…. I reached the financially solvent age of adulthood were I was able to pay for straight hair. A new millennium was here and I, a young professional, found myself with disposable income to spend as I wish (i.e. on expensive hair treatments). When the keratin treatments came out promising smooth, straight hair for months I ran right into the arms of mister keratin. And he did exactly as promised. I had straight, smooth, glossy hair. The financial cost aside, my hair was soaked and saturated in chemicals. At the time I told myself that I did not care. That if this was the price for straight hair, I would pay it. But as the months passed I realized having chemicals so close to my brain and so near to my face was probably a bad idea. So as the keratin slowly released its grip on my hair, so did the smooth straightening effect. And as the curls (and coarseness) returned I felt happy. I felt pure and natural.

My wild hair stage.

And this is the prefect place to enter the next phase, acceptance. The acceptance phase in my curl journey was to embrace and even welcome my fate of a curly coif. The drama that ensued with this stage (there is always drama) is that I went a little too far with the embracing and decided to wear an afro, with wild hair coming out in all directions. I thought, “Why not cut off all my long locks! They are dry and brittle anyway. Rock the ‘fro!” Sounds like a great idea when high on confidence and loaded with courage. Alas, soon after my locks were sheered off, I regretted it. Ouch. No way to turn the clock back on that one.

The moral of the story is that throughout the process, each step was integral to get to where I am now – peaceful reconciliation. I knew then that short hair was not for me. And when my hair grew back (hair does grow back!) I had a newfound appreciation for my curly locks.

This blog is dedicated to my curly hair guru, Healthy Curls. Thank you Healthy Curls, you’re a brilliant inspiration to all us curly haired gals out there!


the tribulations of being a (snow)boarder

Alight, so it really took something to get under my skin to revive this blog. The revival of this blog has been a long time coming – and a new, fresh look is also on the way.

But back to my point…

Now that summer is over (admit it people), I’ve begun to allow myself the indulgence of dreaming about the upcoming snowboarding season. So when someone recently told me about a fabulous mountain that does not allow boarders, I lost it.

Here’s why. It’s a pretty loud statement saying “you can’t board here”. Look at any mountain that does allows boarders (and most mountains do), the number of people on a board is astounding – we almost outnumber skiers. Just in terms of revenue, whoever is making the decision to not allow boarders is seriously missing a huge money-making opportunity. Plus many skiers are making the transition to boarding, therefore many “older” people now board – thus eliminating the idea of snowboarders as young, obnoxious kids.

This resort (that does not allow boarders), and others like it, are making a sweeping statement by disallowing boarding. Granted, there are the riders who don’t pay attention to the rules, but they are not limited to boarders. Obnoxious people are on anything from ski blades (now /those/should be outlawed) to skis to telemarks.

Just because I happen to prefer to carve down a mountain on a board shouldn’t prevent me from being able to ride at certain mountains. It’s a horrible discrimination. And such discrimination is often made by pretentious, east-coast resorts who have no idea what a snowy mountain is *really* like. I’ll take my Nitro BlackWidow and ride Blackcomb / Whistler (for $99 bucks a day) any day.


my pet of all peeves

I’m not someone who gets ticked off very easily, or so I think anyway. So when I do get a little hot under the collar it’s for what I feel has good reason, such as… when people crowd around the luggage carrousel at the baggage claim. I’ve had the fortune to travel a fair amount over the last couple months, and nothing amazes me more than grown adults who huddle around the baggage carrousel like savages.

Personally, I keep a respectable distance from the carrousel so people behind me can access their bags. And without fail, every time, people take this open space in front of me to crowd around the coming bags.
So until airports implement some sort of crowd control at the baggage carrousel, I’ll continue to be taken aback by this seemingly rude, yet widely acceptable, behaviour.


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