Sick Suck

Oh team. I am on the verge of sick. I usually claim to be "on the verge" of being sick long after other people would throw in the towel and claim full "sick" status, but I stubbornly try to fight whatever I clearly already have from the front lines for weeks. I'm like Czechoslovakia when other people are more like France. Which is to say, I think I'm probably already well and properly sick. Sore throat? Check. Watery Eyes? Check. Slight fever? Sigh. Check.

And I am breaking true character, not only by quickly admitting defeat and waving the white flag for these invading forces, but by being a complete and total suck about it. I'm being a baby. I am typically one to soldier on through a cold with very little complaint. Not today.

So rather than complain, I started thinking about all the awesome things to heal what ails you. Literally. My favourite "remedies" are...

1) Soup.
Played out? Maybe, but warm broth or classic chicken noodle, maybe a creamy tomato, on that raw and ravaged throat is the best shit in the world. I just scarfed down an epic bowl of cauliflower soup, and it was nearly a religious experience. I wanted to be baptized in that soup.

2) The Cold Side of the Pillow
I strongly believe that the cold side of the pillow is probably one of life's nicer treats under normal circumstances, but when you're sick, it is that life raft that helps you cling to sanity. However, the desire to occupy the coldest part of my bed also leads to what is quite literally my least favourite thing about being sick; the messy bed. When your top sheet is torn out, wrapped around the bottom of your feet in a bundle, the feathers of your duvet are all shoved in one big pile in your comforter, and, most loathed of all, when your fitted sheet rides up, exposing bare mattress. Whenever I find myself lying, sweating and dribbling on my exposed mattress in an illness induced haze, I feel like Johnny Cash going through withdrawal in Walk the Line. Overreaction? Maybe! But I'm sick! My rational capacities are greatly hindered.

3) Ice cream
Serving the same function as soup, but from the opposite end of the spectrum, who doesn't love some ice cream for a sore throat. Is it awful and countereffective when trying to heal your illness? Very possible - I have an M.A., not a fucking MD PhD. But it feels so nice.

4) Back. Rub.
Whether I drank too much and am puking while a friend is holding my hair and doing it, or I'm fighting flu symptoms and it's my mum, having my back rubbed in long gentle strokes is, bar none, the best feeling when I'm sick. It is the true height of narcissism, but being doted on is all most people want when they're sick, and physical comfort is the most selfish but satisfying kind of TLC a sick person can get. My back always gets so achey when I'm sick, and the long compassionate back rub is the perfect gesture of sympathy and concern. I want to cry thinking about how awesome some back stroking would be right now. But it's ok - my cat will totally cuddle with me.

5) Rain.
I feel like the karmic balance is in my favour when it rains when I'm sick. It's like the world is sick with me. Overcast days make me want to lie in bed and hibernate regardless of how hearty my immune system has been, so when I'm conducting biological warfare on my insides, it's all the better. Not convinced? How much shittier is it to be sick when it's beautiful and sunny out? So. Much. Shittier. And being able to open a window and get that fresh, cool, rain smell into your sick room is a treat.

Alright - pyjamas, a glass of water and my bed are beckoning.


Ps - no pictures? Because all pictures of "sick" are of made up healthy people pretending to be sick, or cartoons. And that's bullshit.

I Like Your Nails...

"Thanks! I wasn't sure about the colour; it's called 'Princesses Rule.'"

"Oh [subdued scoffing laughter], I don't know about that..."

"Well, monarchically speaking it's patently false. But the colour's not bad."

"No, the colour's cute."                                                     

Five Favourite Things Friday!

Because alliteration is fun. And because I kept thinking this week, "man, people need to know about this." AND, it serves as an excellent exercise to look at your life and decide some things about it that are awesome. Some things are mundane and most likely specific idiosyncracies of mine, while others are actual "gettin' the word out" examples of the general excellence circulating society these days.

And we begin with...

one: making my bed

Ok, I am braced to be utterly alone on this. I feel like it's a lost art. When ever I used to strive to clean my house or apartment, it was because someone was going to see it. And more often than not, that would not include the expectation that anyone would be seeing my bed. Right? However, after I moved into a couple of bachelor apartments, where all was visible, I conformed to the external expectations of cleanliness and made my damn bed if I thought people were coming over. And then I just started doing it. And now I love it. My room is tucked away in the least accesible corner of my parents' house - no one will see it but me. Ever. Seriously. But isn't there just something really awesome about crawling into a bed that has been neatly made at the end of the day? You don't have to scrounge at the foot of the bed for your top sheet, and your duvet is all fluffed. In fact, in my internet searching, I found that this was high on the list for the Happiness Project, an endeavour started by author Gretchen Rubin to make small changes in your daily life to make yourself happier. So I'm not alone!

dos: Game of Thrones

The book! This is one of the qualities that I suspect will land me amongst the outliers of weird fantasy-oriented nerds who covet all things Lord of the Rings to most people, but haters, step off.

First of all, if you've bothered to watch the HBO drama, it is exceptionally well done. The plot is less concerned with dragons and witches - though they're certainly there - than it is with the complications of political battles, honour, and pride. Peter Dinklage, who plays the "Imp" Tyrion Lannister, has said in an interview; "I think it's more reality-based than fantasy, personally. And maybe I'm a little bit biased because I sometimes see people of my size, how they're represented in fantasy, they're comical." The themes are universal. And the book actually has me avidly reading before bed. I will head off to bed early so that I can get through a chapter. If you haven't seen the show or picked up the book, you really ought to; if nothing else, it will be a marker of your pop-cultural awareness.

three: Wolf Gang

I have recently, courtesy of my friend Kirsten, been exposing myself to way more music than I used to. Hence Coachella. And at Coachella, the first band we saw - 11 am on the Friday - was Wolf Gang. And their performance may have actually been one of my favourites. It is certainly the band that I have carried with me most since returning from sunny Cali.

f-f-four: healthy omelettes

When I go on a health kick, omelettes are my immediate go to. It is so easy to get yourself a ton of veg and make it taste fucking amazing. And, if done properly (in my humble opinion, of course) you can even have the outside a little crispy, eliminating the desire for some toast on the side. They have become an inextricable part of my morning routine. Today's went awry - just because I was going to take a picture of it, I'm sure - so it was a flat omelette. But, seriously, bask in its glory

I use one whole egg and then a 1/4 cup of egg white, and then I shredded zuchinni (and normally chiffonaded spinach, though I was out this morning). While I am prepping that, there is onion sauteeing away. Once it's soft, I add asparagus, and today I went with some broccoli, a sprinkle of bacon, and a bit of shredded chicken. After letting that cook up a bit, I set it aside in a bowl, add my egg base, sprinkly it with smoked parpika, salt and coarse cracked pepper. I like to add my filling before the egg has cooked all the way through, so it gets incorporated. I polished it off with some low fat cottage cheese. Seriously - try it. It adds that much more lean protein, and the savoury sensation you expect from cheese without being pure fat.

And, appropriately last, as it tends to be how I end my day...

FIVE: Dreaming Tree Crush

A year ago, a favourite wine wouldn't be found anywhere on my blog. I have enjoyed wine for a long time. I was considered my rugby team's resident wino in my first year. But a discerning palate, and experimenting with various wines didn't happen. Now I have a glass (or two) almost every night after work. And when I finally abandoned the stricter rules of the 17 Day Diet, it was to have a glass of wine. And it turned out to be this wine, Dreaming Tree Crush. And it was totally worth it. I picked it up because I liked the label. And I've bought a couple bottles since (can you spot one?).
Described as a North Coast Red, this wine, it turns out, is the result of a collaboration between winemaker Steve Reeder and none other than Dave Mathews. And it's brilliant. Very drinkable, full-bodied and smooth; the bottle reads that it "pulls you in with notes of smoky berry and a pop of raspberry jam." Raspberry jam?? Damn. So good. And a whopping 16.00$. I would love to open a bottle right now, but that would confirm suspicions that I have acquired a drinking problem while living in Calgary.

I'm the Morningest

I have a bunch of grand plans for exciting posts - fur realz, they're all drafted and EVERYTHING - but my parents' impending return home has forced my attention on more domestic affairs, like hiding as best as possible that the house hasn't been vaccuumed for over a month, the fish have been fed biweekly at best and the towering pile of evidence that indicates that my broher and I drink a bottle of wine a night.  Sigh.

But for now, I would like to share an alarming revelation of adulthood: I fucking love mornings. I'm a goddamn morning person! Case in point: It is 7 am. I have gone for a run, stretched, showered, dressed, had a cup of coffee, checked my personal and work emails, paid a parking ticket and, basically, conquered the slothful laziness of youth.

I used to be a person who would sleep until 2 pm and rejoice. Like it was some great accomplishment: give me my I'm-cool-I-don't-give-a-fuck-sleeping-in trophy nao plz. However, such boldness should probably be tempered with some sort of abundently active post-2pm life. Which I hardly posses now. My job has me rather tuckered by the time I get the hell out of there at 6:00ifI'mlucky. I usually want to dive straight into a glass of wine (see above). So exercise, household chores, etc, simply don't happen as is. So if I want to get shit done, it's got to happen before I leave for work at 8:00. So, basically, the flipside of conquering Spain before most people have had coffee is that you have to sacrifice the standard night life enjoyed by most.

I care not. I rock the Kasbah. And I beat my best 1 mile time this morning (the crowd goes crazy).

Love you.

When I Dip You Dip, We Dip

Ok, I just stumbled across a blog post on "hip dips." This is a phenomenon which I have bemoaned under the title "my 3 inverse-3." Ever since I went through puberty, I had marvelled and cringed over the fact that I don't have hips; I have love handles and saddlebags and this flat indented portion in between. I had attributed this to going through puberty at the turn of the millenium, when low slung Silver jeans were my uniform, adhered to my body with thick riveted black belts. Seriously -what were we thinking? But no - this is not some obscure poor-fashion-induced phenomenon I would learn to rue (more than the photographic evidence that I really dressed like that): it's a thing, and others call it, much more articulately, hip dips.
This post on The Skinny tumblr made clear this most loathed part of my body (and my friends' bodies - Aly! It's a thing!) is all nature, not nurture. It is an unavoidable part of our physiology. Which means everyone has it. Even. Ryan. Gosling.

Ok, now go read that article right this instant.

Surviving Calgary Summer, Aid 1

For those who have not had the distinct pleasure of spending time in Calgary Alberta, I will let you in on a mixed blessing of this city; it is dry. This means that the hot weather that sent me scurrying for a/c in Montreal is simply blissful in Calgary. It does, however, mean that you dry out. Hands, hair skin; there is a lot to be said about the benefits of humidty.

With my schedule in flux, and trying, still, to get myself into a sustainable routine, moisturizing was not top priority. However, as I started to undertake a health revolution for my body - eating better and exercising more - I stumbled across a solution to that problem as well.

Walking in the doors of Planet Organic, I saw a display for this half-off organic coconut oil. I think the discount was because the label happens to be in French, which as far as skin care goes, actually makes it more covetable (if L'Oreal, L'Occitane, or La Mer are any indication). As I contemplated the jar, I remembered that at my highschool sweetheart's home, there had always been a jar of coconut oil in their shower. His brother had often suffered from dry and ashy skin, despite living on the West Coast, and nothing rehydrated his skin better than coconut oil. I had always skimmed from his supply when I had the chance, but after high school I had made one solid attempt at bringing coconut oil into my skin care regime: the Body Shop will sell you a rather miniscule bottle of oil for an arm and a leg, and as an all-over body moiturizer it just didn't go far enough for my student budget. Real coconut oil, however, is more solid, and can be applied so easily; it's a creamy solid when you are scooping it out of the jar - this helps to make sure it doesn't simply run through your fingers like astraight oil tends to - and melts once you start applying it to your skin.  And if you find the right brand, you will smell subtley and deliciously like coconut. Real coconut. Not an overwhelming coconut-perfume - just a hint of sweetness that will disappear into what ever fragrence you wear.

Oh yeah. And it works. My skin, particularly on my hands, is softening right up. The downside is that you need to give it some time to soak in - I always slick myself down straight out of the shower (but tie your hair up!), throw on a robe and pop to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and some breakfast before getting dressed. If you're strapped for time, stick to Aveeno and avoid ruining an outfit with oil stains.

I love that it was nice enough out for a natural backdrop for my photoshoot. She Ra loved it too:

Is it 2013 yet?

Weekend two Coachella 2013 tickets have been purchased. Hope law school and life will be accomodating: I have plans.