Tuesday, 15 April 2014

Hi, I'm Leo. And I'm a hoarder.

Although there is still Goddam snow outside (no...I'm not bitter at all), I hoped to speed the warmer weather along by doing some spring cleaning.

After 4 hours of hard work, I was proud of myself when I saw what I had accomplished.....3 garbage bags full of old clothes.  In hopes of earning a bit of cash before I donated everything, I took my pile to Plato's Closet, a shop that purchases gently used clothing.  I looked over my 3 bags.  I could earn HUNDREDS of dollars with all this awesome stuff!

I confidently walked in carrying the garbage bags and let Molly play with the accessories while I filled out my name and number for the lady at the cash.

"Ok, great!  Thanks! Just give us 1/2 hour to go through all your stuff!"  She was very smiley.  I snickered to myself.  She'll be smiling a LOT more after she sees the pot of gold I've just given her.

"C'mon Molly!"
"Otay Mommy".

About an hour later, we returned, only to see that the 3 garbage bags I'd given them were still in the same spot.  Oh my God....they're taking it all!!  This is amazing!  I'll probably get, like, one THOUSAND dollars!  I was already planning how to spend my new-found cash when Ms.Smiley saw me and waved me over. 

"Ok.  So we went through your stuff and we chose 7 items."
I laughed and pointed to the garbage bags.  "It looks like a lot more than 7!"
"Oh.  Those are the items we didn't choose".
Say what??
"So, here's your $18.76.  Thanks for choosing Plato's Closet!  Oh - do you need help carrying those garbage bags to your car?"
My nostrils flared.
"Nope.  I'm good.  Molly!  Let's go!"
"Otay Mommy!"

That night I went through every item in those bags.  I pulled out a purple and white shirt from my university days, a pair of tie-dye jeans and a bathing suit that had lost it's elasticity.  I remember that bathing suit well.  I thought I had suddenly lost a serious amount of weight until I realized that there was another reason why the ass part was hanging down at my knees.

As I continued rummaging through the bag, I continued to be disappointed.  Everything I pulled out was either faded,  out of style, damaged, or just plain old.  Then, I looked over at the boxes beside my bedroom door full of  magazines.  They were all out-dated, from 2008-2012 but I refused to get rid of them.   I mean, they're perfectly good magazines!  Then I took a sip of my already cold peppermint tea from my Virgo mug, and chuckled at how I just HAD to buy the matching Leo mug........because my name is Leo.  Get it?  Not because I AM a Leo!  I'm so funny. 

Wait a minute.

GASP!

I'M A HOARDER!!

The realization made my head spin.  I suddenly felt so dizzy.  I stood up and somehow made my way into the hallway.  I felt like the floor was giving out underneath me and the walls were moving.  I grabbed onto the railing from the stairs to support  myself.  Suddenly I saw visions of my parent's old basement, every storage room filled to the brim with boxes.  Suddenly the boxes started laughing at me.  Then I heard Mama's voice....

"I bought you anudder sveter.  Do you like??"

I leaned against the wall and slid down until my bum hit the floor.  This is impossible.  I'm only 30-something years old. I can't be a hoarder??  Hoarders are those people on that show that can't even get into their bedroom because it was packed with boxes full of useless stuff.   I looked down the hall at my bedroom door which hasn't closed for months because of those damn boxes full of my old magazines.

GASP!

Ok.  Maybe I do have a problem.  But I can fix this.   I don't think I'm a BIG hoarder.  Maybe just a baby hoarder.  Like.....on a scale from 1 to 10, maybe I'm a 3......or 4.  Ok, a 5, but that's as far as I would go. 
All I have to do, is stay focused and get rid of stuff.  Easy peesy!  I got this!

The following weekend, on my mission to lose the title of hoarder, I was going to go through my entire house, room by room, and de-clutter my world.  Like the Clean Sweep expert Peter Walsh always says "A cluttered house is a cluttered mind".  I was going to de-clutter my mind!  I mean......well....you get it.....

I started with my garage.  It was packed.  But not after today!

After 5 grueling hours, I had taken everything out, prioritized the contents and put only the necessities back in. I was totally exhausted, but I had done a lot of work.  But......somehow the garage still looked full.  Hmmm.  I looked at my "discard" pile.  There was only 1 box and 1 garbage bag.  How can that be?  I scanned the garage.  Did I really need 5 strollers?  Well......yes.....they're all different.  There's the single stroller, the double stroller, the umbrella stroller, the wagon and the bike trailer.  Yes, I definitely needed ALL of those.  What about the kid's bikes?  Did I need 5 bikes?  I laughed.  Absolutely!  There's Lola's bike, Molly's bike, Molly's old tricycle...which I'm sure she'll still use.....the Dora tricycle and the matching blue tricycle.  Lola and Molly like to race those together.  They're so cute when they race!

Ok....forget about the garage.  Let's move on to the basement.

I stood at the doorway of my first storage room.  I counted 8 tupperware containers of Christmas decorations.  No wait.....6.  2 of those boxes were Hallowe'en and Easter decorations.  I took a sip of my coffee and laughed.  I definitely couldn't get rid of my decorations!  That would be absurd!  I closed that door and moved down the hall to my second storage room.  Ahh, yes.  There would definitely be some things here that I could get rid of of.  One corner was filled to the ceiling with boxes of Polish crystal from my family in Poland.  I got right to work!



---------4 hours later--------



"Babe, you ok??"
I called my BFF crying.
"No!  I'm not ok!  I'm drowning in Polish crystal!!  And I'm a hoarder!  And it's just going to get worse as I get older!  I'll be 60's years old and I won't be able to leave my house because the doors and windows will be blocked by strollers and bikes and decorations and magazines!  Babe!  I have a problem.  You need to help me!"
"Ok calm down.  I was going to go shopping but I can do that tomorrow.  I'll be at your place in 20  minutes."
"Sniff.  Shopping?  What store?"
"Umm, just Toys R Us.  I needed to get a gift for somone in my kid's class.  Don't worry!  I can do it tomorrow."
Suddenly, I felt happy again.
"I LOVE Toys R Us!  Do you think that bike sale is still on?  Lola mentioned something about a Barbie bike.  Did you see that in the flyer?  Oh never mind, I'll look myself!  YAY!  Toys R Us!"



Well......... 


.......being a hoarder isn't the worst thing you can be right??





Tuesday, 8 April 2014

The great weight debate.

The other day I got a compliment from my mother.  Or what I thought was a compliment.

"You look good", she said with her thick Polish accent.
"Aww, thanks Mama."
"You gained veight.  You look better.  You looked like skeleton before."

Annnnnd there it is.

She didn't stop there....even though she should have.

"Your seeester says you look good too.  She says your new figure suits you better.  You were too skinny before."

Well.  Isn't that just swell.

I immediately put down my Mars bar and picked up an apple.


Although it wasn't the sweetest thing I've ever heard, Mama didn't really bring anything new to my attention. Mama is our family's "Captain Obvious". She loves commenting on things that everyone knows already.  Wait.....I guess I'M being Captain Obvious right now.

Anyhoo...... I am fully aware that I have gained a little bit of weight recently.  Probably somewhere between 5 to 10 pounds.  I refuse to weigh myself though, so I'm not quite sure where things stand "scale-wise". Regardless, whatever that new magical number is, it has made my morning dress-up routine a tad more challenging.  Let's just say that there's a lot more bending and squatting (and swearing) involved in putting on my skinny jeans now.

My whole life, I have pretty much always been the same weight.  Never super skinny, never over-weight, just average.  Kind of like in the story Goldilocks and the 3 Bears.  Not too big, not too small, but just right. 

Being super skinny was never really an option for me because  I hate working out.....and I love food. 


But in the last 5 years, I have not only given birth to 2 children but I have also breast-fed 2 children, ran after 2 children and sacrificed many a meal for 2 children.  Add all this to a very long, stressful and DIFFICULT separation from the ex, and you've got yourself one super-skinny Momma!  So for those of you who have always wanted to lose a significant amount of weight......there you go!  The weight-loss secret of the stars! You're welcome.


On a happy note,  I guess my recent weight gain is a sign that things are on the up and up.  Literally.

And as things in my life are starting to settle, I guess, so is my digestion.

Even my sister's good friend noticed my new figure while dancing this past weekend.

"Leo! You got a RUMP girl!! You look HOT"

Yes.  Leo's rump is back.  Now that I've gained weight, my rump has returned.  I am 1 of only 10 tall, white women in the entire world that has a huge ass.  This is a real statistic by the way....I did the math myself.

You probably did not realize I had a big badonkadonk, so please feel free to take a moment to think about this.

------------

Ok....that's enough.

I said ENOUGH!


Over the past 2 years, I kind of got used to my new "svelte" body.

I thought I looked GOOD.  I mean "REAL" good.  (said in Ron Burgandy voice)

But all of these recent compliments made me wonder.

If people think I look good NOW.......how did they think I looked before??

I couldn't help but wonder......do women think that they look better just because they're thin? Do our mirrors suddenly become rose-coloured when a new svelte figure is looking back at us? 

Just recently I saw a picture of the Biggest Loser's 2014 winner. Rachel Frederickson's shocking 155-lb weight loss led her to a victory.....along with a ton of controversy.  Instead of compliments, Rachel was hit with backlash and criticism, saying she was way too skinny, anorexic even.  But Rachel was happy with her body and proud of what she had accomplished.  Months later though, she revealed a new fuller figure.  She seemed happier, and so did social media.


Over the past 2 years, I received comments similar to that of Mama's back-handed compliment.
"Wowwww.  You're skinny nowwww."
"You lost a LOT of weight eh?"
"Your bum is gone!"

I never took any of it to heart.   But now, looking back, maybe these were all subliminal messages for me to
gain some weight?  Maybe people thought I was too skinny....and I didn't look good.

And now with all of these compliments regarding my NEW weight size, it's made me think that maybe a few extra pounds didn't hurt.  In fact, they helped.  Looking in the mirror now, I have a whole new perspective.  Maybe THIS is how I'm supposed to look?

In a world OBSESSED with size 0 models, bony celebrities and stupid diets, I'm ready for a change. I'm ready to embrace my curves and my inner-Marilyn Monroe.  And in the words of Justin Timberlake, I'm ready to bring sexy back.  

I mean, if you've got it, flaunt it!!  Right?


And of course..... I will pass on my wisdom and confidence to my 2 little girls, who have been "blessed" with their Momma's booty-licious body.  And when someone tries to convince Lola or Molly that having a gap between their thighs is hot....I hope that my girls will just laugh and walk away.  Because they won't be affected by society's misconceptions of beauty. 

They instead.....will be just like Goldilocks. 

And they will be looking for their "just right".

























Tuesday, 1 April 2014

Hungry like the Wolf.

So for the past month I have been completely obsessed with the Oscars.  Yes....STILL!   I just can't seem to get enough of the winners, the dresses and my favorite host of all time - Ellen Degeneres.

For weeks after the grand event, I posted pictures and videos on Facebook, hoping to re-live every moment like I was actually there.......hiding inside Pharrell's giant Mountie hat.  Go Canada! 

I posted pics of a wickedly-talented Adele Dazeem singing "Let it Go", a sexy shot of  Jared Leto and his gorgeous long locks (how he has better hair than me is just beyond), and of course Ellen's famous "selfie" that shut down social media for hours.

This year, I was 100% committed to watching all of the movies that were nominated for best film.

Last weekend I watched The Wolf of Wall Street.  A movie based on the true story of Jordan Belfort, a New York stock-broker who rose to fame and wealth in the late 1980's.

This high-intense and super sexy film revolving around money and drugs, had me so mesmerized that when my sister called half-way through the movie, I felt like I was actually talking to her while on quaaludes.

Even though I loved every single minute of this over-the-top 3 hour film.......I was also kind of repulsed by it. I couldn't figure out what it was about this film that bothered me so much. It definitely wasn't Leonardo DiCaprio, who plays Belfort in the movie.  That man is so sweet on the eyes it's ridiculous.  

And then ......it hit me.  

I finally realized why the film was making my stomach go into knots.

For a person like me who spends her life trying to live each day with honesty, decency and respect.....I felt a great deal of turmoil watching a man make millions through temptation, deceit and greed.  Jordan Belfort was so hypnotized by money and power that nothing could stop him.  And nothing was good enough for him. 

His way of life went against absolutely everything I stood for. 

He was a man that had his cake, and wanted to eat it too.

At his wealthiest, Belfort was earning $49 million a year and living in the lap of luxury.  While under the influence of his drug of choice, quaaludes,  he crashed his Ferrari, his helicopter and sank his yacht. Cheating on his first wife and then second, was just par for the course. 

Belfort thought he was living the dream.

But........as with any good dream....we wake up.... don't we?  And, all good things must come to an end.  Belfort's reckless behavior and cheating couldn't be hidden for much longer.  It was just a matter of time before his whole world crashed and burned.....kind of like his helicopter!
 


"The Wolf" lost everything. 

In 2003, he was sentenced to 4 years in prison and personally fined $110 million dollars. 

------------------------------

After the movie ended, I sat in silence thinking about my own life.  Grateful for what I had and grateful that I was never tempted to cheat, and never tempted by greed.

But.....I'm not so sure everyone can say the same.  I bet you that there is someone out there right now who is cheating the system....and running away from the law. 

Well.....you can't run forever.  Eventually the wolf must stop to eat again.

On that note.....I hear that prison serves a delicious cake.

;)

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

To infinity and beyond.

"Mommy!  Mommy!"

"Ooohhhh Mommeeeeeeeee!  Mommeeeeeeeee....."

What?  Where am I?

"Mommy!  Mommy!  Wake up!"

It finally dawns on me.  I'm in bed. And it's the morning.

I lift my eye mask slowly and see two tiny little faces staring at me and smiling. Without waking me up, my girls had somehow managed to climb into bed with me.  They had already found their comfy spots and were already watching Treehouse.

I groan and stretch. "What time is it?"  My voice sounds like a dying frog.

A very chipper voice answers.  "It's....ummm......six.......zero......4.  I did it Mommy!  I told you the time!  I can tell time!!"  Lola's voice is shockingly happy and loud for this hour.

I try not to seem frustrated at the fact that I am up at six-zero-four......so I put on my best 'supportive' voice.

"That's great baby.  Good for you".  I let out a huge yawn.

I close my eyes again.  Just for a minute.  Suddenly Ryan Gosling appears in my thoughts.  Why am I thinking of Ryan Gosling?  And then it occurs to me.  Dammit!!  I was about to kiss Ryan Gosling in my dream right before I woke up.  Why does that always happen??  Alwaaaayyyyssssss!  I close my eyes again hoping for a continuation, but Ryan smiles and disappears.

"NO!! COME BACK!"  I accidentally yell out loud.

"Mommy!  We're not going anywhere!  We're right here!  Silly Mommy!!"


About 15 minutes later we are downstairs and the girls have already set up the Barbie camper and are role-playing on the couch.

How do they move so fast?  Do kids open their eyes in the morning and immediately go into over-drive?  My car doesn't even move that fast.  Then again, I have a Dodge Caravan.  But it IS the SXT version.  I don't wanna brag but.......


I lean on the kitchen counter, my head resting sideways on one hand, the other hand grasping my freshly-brewed coffee.  The caffeine will surely give me a bit of a boost.  I'll just take a little moment here and relax.   

But suddenly I see Molly jump off the couch and run behind the curtains.

"Molly!  You need to go potty!!"  I announce in a panic.  

So much for relaxation....it's GO time.

"No I DON'T!"

"Yes you DO!"

She runs away from the curtain and towards me.  Haha! Here's my chance to get her!  But in one fowl swoop, she dodges my arm and goes running down the hallway.  What is happening here?  I'm losing control! 

"You tan't tatch meeeeeee!"


I finally catch her while she's running up the stairs, scoop her up and place her on the potty.  There are screams and cries, and then she looks up at the TV and in a happy voice says....."Arthur!"  and somehow forgets about the last 2 minutes.  She is content now.

But I haven't forgotten.  I'm exhausted.  And it's only......six.....two.....five.

The emotional ups and downs of everyday motherhood are ridiculous.  Completely and utterly ridiculous.  Somehow, kids have the ability to scream and cry one minute, and then laugh and sing the next.  I have NO CLUE how they are able to switch it up so fast?  There's no way an adult could function like that. We would constantly be burnt out.  Well, then again, I did have a friend who on every New Years Eve, went from smiling and laughing to balling her eyes out when the clock struck midnight.  We were always in shock when it happened, yet it happened every year.  "Happy New Yearsssss (wahhhhhh).  I'm soooo happyyyyyy (wahhhhhhhh)".

But the average person cannot do what your typical toddler can accomplish.  And this is, switching their mood 100 times a day like it's no effort at all.


Later on that afternoon, Molly was in a great mood, so I decided to take her grocery shopping.  Everything was all fine and dandy until I tried putting her in the grocery cart.  She refused, so I told her that if she stayed close, then she could walk beside the cart instead of going in it.  I'm not sure why I thought this would work?  Sometimes I convince myself that these things will actually work out in my benefit. 

Ya.  NO.

Within 10 seconds, she was darting across the produce section and I, ran like a chicken with my head cut off after her.   She was laughing hysterically until I caught her.  And then the tantrum began.  I totally boycotted shopping and drove back home.  All the way home she sang and laughed.  I just shook my head in defeat.

The day continued with even more ups and downs.  There were temper tantrums, there was screaming, there was laughter, and there was pure joy. 

Everyday, it is my mission to be the best mom I can possibly be.  But who's kidding who?  Most days you're just trying to survive.  Keep kids happy?  Check.  Feed kids?  Check.  Bathe kids?  Check. 

Now, if I can only I could stay on top of my own checklist.  Most days I'm shocked if I remember to actually sit down and eat a meal.

------------

At 7:30pm, I am beyond exhausted.   The girls and I make our way upstairs for bedtime and I collapse in Lola's bed.  I feel like one of those old Polish dolls that I used to own.  Those dolls where you would lay them down and their eyes would close.  And when you would lift them up, their eyes would pop open.  My eyes closed the second I hit the pillow. 

After Lola picked out her book and Molly grabbed her favorite Barbies to sleep with (there are 7 of them), the girls both climbed into bed with me.

"Mommy!  Mommy!"

Molly put her two little chubby hands on my face and whispered.  "Mommy!  I luff you to infinity and beyond". 

Lola turned towards her little sister.  "Molly!  Shhhh!  I'm trying to read my book"  Lola was tired too.  We were ALL exhausted.

"Lola.  I luff you TOO!  To infinity and beyond!"

And with that, we all started laughing.

The day had so many ups and downs, but somehow...... the ending to my day was exactly like the beginning. 

The day had come full circle.  I was exhausted.  But I was happy.

And I was right where I needed to be.  In a cozy bed snuggled with my 2 little angels.  

Somewhere between infinity and beyond.











Tuesday, 18 March 2014

Jerk.....or Genius?



I’m sure you’ve all heard of the recent Bachelor news.  Obvi!  No doubt it’s been on the top of your radar.


Juan Pablo did NOT get engaged.



I speak of course of the Bachelor’s wishy-washy ending to the show’s “most dramatic season EVER”.  


Last Monday,  Juan (I pronounce it “Hoo-Waaaan"), had to decide between his final 2 ladies , Clare and Nikki.  But unfortunately for Hoo-Waaan, his past came back to haunt him. 


Over the course of the season, Juan did what no other Bachelor could ever accomplish.   He managed to insult and disgust...pretty much the entire world with his obscene comments.  Unfortunately for him, Clare had enough and stormed out , leaving Juan muttering that he hadn’t chosen her anyway.  Whatever Juan!


So by default, Nikki won.  


Or did she?


The final rose ceremony was almost unbearable to watch.  Juan did not tell Nikki that he loved her....but rather that he “liked her.  A lot”.  Oh brother! 

And then he told her that he HAD an engagement ring, but that he wouldn’t give it to her.  And he tapped his pocket with his hand, as if to say “You’re not good enough for this huge chunk of diamond in my pocket, so I’ll just hang on to it”.  


For some reason, Nikki was ok with all of this and accepted his promise for...........friendship?    



Of course my BFF and I had to watch “After the Final Rose” over and over, discussing every comment, every body angle and every eye roll.


“REWIND!  REWIND!”  I yelled at her making sure she caught that slight change in body posture between Nikki and Juan on the couch as the host, Chris Harrison interrogated them about their love.....or lack thereof. 
   

One by one, guests of the show all spoke up saying that they were confused.  They didn’t realize why Juan was so secretive and why he refused to express his feelings of love for Nikki, and what his and Nikki’s plans were for the future. 


“URGH!  What an asshole!” I threw my hands up in anger and then grabbed my glass of wine.  I needed alcohol if I was going to get through any more of Juan’s antics.


“Yes....buttttt.....”  my BFF said under her breath.


I put my glass down and very slowly turned my head towards my BFF.......my eyeballs being the last to face her.   


No she DIDN’T.


Was she actually trying to defend this jerk?


She quickly continued after seeing the distress on my face. “There IS a language barrier.....AND, he just wants a private relationship after the show.  Is that really so bad??”


“Babe!!  The guy is a MAJOR douchebag!" 


But then with my next sip of wine, I stopped to think for a minute.  Was I misinterpreting things?  


I couldn’t help but wonder.  In an era, where the world is connected to practically every single person and celebrity through social media, were we expecting too much from this bachelor?  Did we want to know every detail of his love life after the show, and were we just disappointed because Juan was moving on without us?  


Was Juan Pablo a jerk....or a genius?


I watched the rest of the show with a different mindset.  I gave Juan the benefit of the doubt.   I watched his body posture, I watched his interaction with Nikki, I listened to his words....very carefully, and I listened to his responses to the guests and to Chris.


Each time Nikki or Juan spoke, they would then pull each other close and stare into one another’s eyes.  They would ignore or pretend to ignore the snarls and sounds of disgust from the audience and instead they would kiss each other over and over.  Although their “moves” were that of a loving couple, everything seemed really weird.  And when Chris pushed the topic of love, Juan would snap back with rude and derogatory comments, saying that they wanted their life private.  


I found it hard to believe that all Juan wanted was “privacy” when he was practically making out with his girlfriend on national television.


I didn’t buy it.  Any of it.


I don’t believe that you need to flaunt your relationship if it’s true love.  Don’t get me wrong, I have absolutely no issues with PDA.   In fact, when I see a couple that is truly in love, I think a little PDA is sweet.  However, when it is constant and looks like it’s forced, all I can think of, is that the couple is marking their territory on eachother.  Kind of like a dog pissing on a tree. 

Juan was pissing on Nikki.  And Nikki was ok with it.


He has no intention whatsoever of marrying this girl, but rather of keeping her because it’s “convenient” for him.   And sadly Nikki has no backbone or self-respect to walk away and seek a relationship that’s actually healthy and loving.



After reading all of the tabloids and comments after the show, my opinion had been confirmed by millions of viewers.   EVERYONE thought that Juan was a major JERK.  Privacy or no privacy, there is no reason to treat people with disrespect.   And as for the language barrier, I haven’t practised my Polish language in years, but you better believe that no one would EVER mistake my words for disrespect and insult. 


All I know is that I’d rather be single forever, then be trapped in a relationship with someone like Juan.  And thankfully my Spanish is much better than my Polish, because I have something to say to Juan:


“El Jerko:  Karma is an el bitcho!”

Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Young and beautiful.

Once you pass 35 years of age, you start to realize that you're not really young anymore.
But you're not really old either?
It's weird.
You still feel young....but you're not.

I remember being a kid and saying "Yeah, our teacher is old.  She's probably like, 38."

I want to go back in time and kick myself in the head.

Having said that ....I actually do love getting older.   I love having experience behind me.  I love who I have become, and I love knowing what I have overcome.


I'm not super fond of the wrinkles though .....but there are always ways to fix that ;)

Many things have changed from when I was a 20-something.......to now, a 30-something.  But the one thing that hasn't changed, is my love of partying and dancing.  I will go dancing at every opportunity, no matter what my age.


One Saturday night, my girlfriends and I went to Bloke.  An amazing club in downtown Toronto.  We had a fabulous time.  We drank martinis, we danced and we laughed all night long.  I felt very young and very beautiful. 

We were walking through the super-packed crowd, when we suddenly spotted 2 gorgeous guys.  They walked by us and my sister immediately pointed at them and yelled over the music "THOSE GUYS ARE SUPER HOT!"

Not very subtle.....but my sister's always been a girl who knows what she likes :)

The tall, dark-haired one looked back at me and smiled as he walked away. 

I was so distracted that I walked directly into my sister's back.  My sister just looked at me and rolled her eyes.  So much for my sex appeal.

We were headed towards the other room, when suddenly I saw that the guys had come back!  And almost immediately my sister was being chatted up by the blonde one.  I turned around to look for the dark-haired one..... and there he was...... standing directly in front of me.  I was totally taken off-guard. 

He was close to me.  Very close.   I could smell his cologne.  It was intoxicating.  And he was tall.  He must have been, like, 6'4" or something.


"Hey", he said very confidently with a smile.... his eyes locked on mine.

I don't remember what I said back?  I'm hoping I sounded just as confident as him, but knowing me, I probably messed up the word "hi".

Nonetheless, I couldn't have been that much of a disaster......because hours went by and this beautiful man did not leave my side.  We talked and giggled and flirted all night.  

At one point, he was telling me about his younger brother.

"Oh!  You have a brother!  That's cool.  How old is he?" I asked.
He looked up at the ceiling and squinted,  "Let's seeee.  He's 3 years younger than me......so that would make him.....22 now."

I nearly choked on my olive.

"So, you're...........you're......25??"  I asked with a stutter.

"Yeah.  Why?"

Again, I choked.  Someone take this damn martini away from me!!

"No......no reason.  That's .....that's awesome!"

"Why?  How old are you?"  he asked with a smirk.

Shit.

I didn't know what to do.  Should I lie?  Even if I lied, what age would I say?  30 is even too old for this zygote!

Suddenly a sexy song started blaring through the speakers......a remix of Lana Del Ray's "Young and Beautiful".  He was staring at me and waiting for me to answer while the song was approaching it's chorus.  The base got louder and louder.  I was getting more and more stressed.  And then all I could hear was Lana's powerful voice ......

"Will you still love me when I'm no longer young...and beautiful?" 

You've got to be kidding me!
I'm convinced the DJ was watching us all night and purposely put this song on as a joke.


Urgh. 

Ok.


I decide to be upfront and honest and tell him the truth.  I've never been able to lie anyways.  But I'm sure this will totally scare him off.

Well....it was a good night.  I had a ton of fun..... but I guess this has come to an end.  

Ok....here goes......

I go up on my tippy-toes and lean in to his ear........take one last whiff of his delicious cologne .......and I whisper my age.......



.................................



You're probably wondering what happened next?



Well, let's just say that my red lipstick couldn't stay on my lips that night......and my age was the furthest thing from my mind ;)


















Tuesday, 4 March 2014

Polish Ski Bunny



It's been over 10 years since I downhill skied.  

The thought of skiing always brings back fond memories.  Tata (my Dad) used to take me every winter since I was 7 years old.   I will never forget his lessons, our lunches in the chalet, and cooling down our hot chocolate in the snow.  

Once Tata passed away, and life got busier and more complicated, my trips to the ski hill had completely disappeared.  It was like I stopped keeping in touch with a very good old friend who I loved hanging out with.

I very often wondered why?  If I loved it so much, why couldn’t I find the time?

Following my new motto of taking life by the “balls”....I decided that it was time to get back out there.
I called the only person I could think of that would make this experience truly worthwhile and amazing.

“Mama!  Wanna go skiing with me?”

“Vat?  Okay!!  Lez go!  But first I have to bleach my hair.”

Within a couple hours, we were all decked out and ready to hit the slopes.  My Polish Mother had seamlessly coordinated every item of her ski outfit.  

“Did ju no-tees dat my entire outfit is orange?”

“Yes Mama.  I did.   You look amazing.”

“My skiis are nice eh?”

“Yes Mama.  Your skiis are awesome.”

“Dey are orange too!”

“Yes.  I noticed that.”

It was at that very moment, that I realized how hilarious this day was going to be.

“Oh no.  Look at de chairlifts!  Dey are all empty!  No von is here!”

“Mama.  Those are the lifts going down”

“Oh.”

On the way up, there are many more laughs.  Mama mistakes a giant snow-maker for a satellite dish and then makes fun of a man wearing a black, full-face mask saying “He looks like he’s going to rob a bank after dis!”

As the chairlift is approaching the dismount, Mama looks like she’s going to throw up .....and my eyes are wider than flying saucers.  We’re both thinking how nuts we are for attempting this after so many years, but neither of us wants to say it and discourage the other.  We slowly slide off the chairlift and then let gravity pull us down to the slopes.  Mama yells at me several times for coming too close to her.  I just ignore her.  I’m too afraid of dying to look back.

We stand at the top of the hill and look down.  I bite my frozen lip.  Mama is standing 2 metres behind me. 

“Ma!  C’mon!!”

A 3 –year old little kid in a helmet whizzes by us and yells “Dad!  This hill is too easy!  Let’s go to the black diamond again!”

I look over at the sign.  It says ‘FAMILY’ right beside a blue circle.  

Oh brother.  I roll my eyes and look back at Mama who is now 3 metres behind me.  How is she moving backwards??

But somehow, Mama and I manage to make it down the hill in one piece.   And not only do we make it down, but we become completely addicted and we ski until it gets dark! 

With each ski down, I gained more confidence and before I knew it, I was veering off into the forest on home-made trails and jumps.  Mama stands there laughing as I pick up speed and then get ½ metre off the trail and into the air!  I end up going so fast, that my hat flies off my head.....which Mama doesn’t see and skies right over!  At this point, I am lying on the snow doubled over in laughter!

We end off our night in the chalet, sitting beside the fire, warming up our fingers and toes and drinking hot chocolate.  We talk about our experience and how impressed we are that not only did we not DIE.....but we actually did.....really well!!  And we promised that we wouldn’t let so much time go between visits to our beloved slopes.

And it made me realize, that picking up an old sport is exactly like riding a bike.  You may be shaky, and you may be nervous, but you never really forget how to do it.  And it doesn’t hurt to have your Mom there with you.......holding your hand........and making you laugh the entire way :)