when all else fails, make a list

A few tiny thoughts before I fall asleep:

• I have got to stop sitting down to write and then feeling like I have nothing to say, and then when I get up to do something useful suddenly get ideas, but then be too busy doing the useful thing to go and write, and then when I sit down and write forget what the hell I wanted to write and and feel like I have nothing to say.
  That just must stop.
  
• My daughter has not started school yet, but she already has a crush on the floppy-haired young music teacher. Her father is already counting the white hairs. He is cute though...
  
• I have no idea why I can never remember how long it takes to cook a hard-boiled egg. Seriously, why must I look it up on the internet every single time?
  
• There are a few things happening now that I don't think I'm ready for. I shall try to bluff my way through until I am.
  
• Universe, I think I am close on this one, so give me a break and I'll try to be less neurotic so I don't wreck it.
  
• I got a great haircut.
  

A glorious weekend

Montreal had a little taste of summer for the Easter weekend. We were all shocked and overjoyed when the lovely meteorologists informed us that we would have temps over 20C for three days! Global warming, schmobal warming, this rocks! I did some work Friday, and then went with a friend to Rapids Park in the late afternoon and spent time there watching the water and enjoying the heat and the sun with the other happy people who were also there enjoying it with us.


This is an amazing time of year because city folk get so caught up in the promise of the summer that we end up walking around with smiles and temporary good will to our fellow Montrealers. This lasts until the traffic, heat, and crowds of the numerous festivals harden our hearts again.
Saturday started with a nice long run and then I had plans for fish pedicures with Libby and Melissa, but Libby got sick and stayed in Toronto. Melissa and I went and had a great time having some lunch, catching up, getting our feet nibbled, then groomed and polished, and then we each found a great little summer dress on St Denis.



The temp got up to 26C and the clothing was scanty on the Plateau. We came out from our pedis and even in our modest summer outfits had a sexy strut up St Laurent. Melissa was telling me that in Vancouver (she lived there for several years before returning), men don't stare because they tend to get ridiculed by the ultra-feminists. I'm so glad that is not true here. In Montreal, men know how to look at women, and for the most part the Plateau guys are less leery "how you doin?" and more intense momentary appreciation. I think it's harmless and it always gives me a little extra wiggle in the caboose. Later in the evening, I headed over to Verdun and hung out with Maggie and the family visiting for Easter supper. The vodka and tonic was flowing as we sat out in the back garden and then the kitchen.



Sunday started with another run, then I picked up the kids, got Nomi into her Easter dress, and we headed for the townships to see my folks for Easter and to celebrate my dad's birthday. It was warm and sunny again, so we were able to have an egg hunt outside. The kids ran all over the place, we ate, I even managed a short nap. We got home late, but the kids are off tomorrow, so we'll have a low key day and collect ourselves for the rest of the week.
There were so many reasons to love this weekend - I hope yours was amazing too :-)

Adventures in girly-girl land: let me nibble your toes

So, on my quest for refurbishment this year, it is now time to focus on my feet with a lovely pedicure. I had my first professional pedicure a couple of years ago with my friend Libby in Vancouver (I know! what took me so long? Not much of a girly girl). I've been getting by with my own half-assed attempts, but when Maggie started asking, how could I say no? Once again, I called up my girly connection Adriana. She told me about this little place called Tami on Duluth. The next week they were in the newspaper because they do the fish pedicures. For someone who is not a girly girl, I DID know about fish pedicures, and am now surprised that so many people don't. Really people, I am normally the last one to find these things out, keep up! The fish in question are these little carp that eat the dead skin off your feet. It's ok, they don't have teeth. I thought this was bizarre, but I'm up for most bizarre stuff. It took us a while to get organized, but Maggie eventually booked us an early morning appointment on a Saturday and off we went with our other friend Lysanne.

We arrived bright and early and were the first meal of the day. They have two tanks that can take two people each. We were three, so Maggie and Lysanne shared one and I got one to myself (mainly because I was taking pictures for posterity). Maggie was first and she didn't scream, Lysanne had a moment where we thought she might bolt, but she held it together.

After watching them, I was eager to try. Maggie described it best, it's like sticking your feet in club soda, bubbly. I don't have ticklish feet, but Maggie assured me that even sensitive feet are immune from tickles. We were submerged almost to our knees and the fish were also nibbling at our legs. I thought it felt great!

I splayed my toes and they got in between, they nibbled away at my cuticles and heels, everywhere.

The only drawback to sharing a tank apparently is that whoever has more to eat gets more attention. There was some fish sharing that had to be performed between Maggie and Lysanne. I stayed in longest and my feet are still amazingly soft and smooth. We finished the experience with fresh polish, I got some great purple toes. Then it was off for lattes at Myriade and pad thai at a nearby favorite. Another great girly experience!

Adventures in girly-girl land: some good conversation and a place to park your plane

I went for for first ever waxing appointment last week. I'm not a huge girly girl, so I've managed to avoid a lot of things that involved estheticians. This year, I 'm giving these things a shot. Let's face it, I'm 40 this year and a general refurbishment is probably due. I'm wrinkly, saggy, hairy, and not getting any prettier. This is not a desperate attempt to regain my youth, it's more a reality check and a “this is the best it's gonna get chickie, better appreciate whatcha got”. I know as well as anyone that I'm a pretty good lookin' almost 40, but I can't compete with the young 'uns anymore.

So I call up my friend, Adriana, the bank of all info I need to be hip and cool and smooth and girly. She gave me the number of her lady and on Wednesday, in the midst of a deadline and a snowstorm, off I trudged to have the hair ripped off my legs and bikini area. The lady is question is a middle-aged Romanian who came to Canada 30 years ago and never looked back. It's her business and she's proud of it and you can tell she loves her work. I walked in and told her my name and she said, “I know”. I knew I was going to like her right away. I awkwardly explained that I was a waxing virgin and had no idea what to expect. She looked at me a little annoyed and explained that she would be removing the hair from my legs and bikini. Well, I knew that! She looked up from her appointment book suddenly and asked, “do you want a Brazillian?” I've watched Sex and the City so I knew what she meant. “Oh no!”, I stammered, “just a regular one!”

“Oh thank God”, she said, “I don't think you're ready for that”. I think she was right.

I followed her to her waxing area, a couple of repurposed electric fondue pots simmering with green wax and a reclining chair with a comfy stool in front of it. My pants came off and I got comfy in the chair and she started doing what she does, starting with the bikini area. Keeping in mind that I am new to this, I watched as she took more and more off. More than I have ever shaved. I now have what is called a “landing strip”. She worked very diligently to get the sides even, and even implied that she could have taken more off. I'm thinking that I'd like to keep it as is at least. We will have to have a discussion the next time about shapes and such.

Next came the legs. I'm not particularly hairy, so the legs went pretty fast. She told me that a few more visits before the summer will probably have me nearly hair-free for the summer. I have thin hair, she knows these things.

During all the waxing and ripping, we talked about books and politics. When she started a sentence with, “I was reading last week in The Economist”, I knew why Adriana loves this woman so much. She made me promise not to shave and to come back in five weeks. She refused to take a tip because she's the owner, which may force me to bake for next time. I may like this girly girl thing!