Hot & Sweaty

Awwwww yeeeeeeah, boooooyeeeeeeeeee.

I went clubbin' tonight. And though I am Canadian, I don't mean baby seals.

OH! HAI! I iz layin' around, bein' Canadian and adorable. What's that long club-like thing in yer hand? *innocent eyes... tearing up...*

I went to the good ole local dance bar. I didn't want to go, because it often caters to the "older" crowd... then I sort of realized that I AM that demographic.

Though, admittedly, better than a bunch of 19 year olds grinding up on each other.

The DJ had the nerve to play "Saturday Night" by Whigfield... and mention that shit was on the charts in 1995. Which, if you were wondering, was over half my lifetime ago. FUCK. Thanks DJ.

I DO remember being at an "all ages" club dancing to that song. Feyoncé™ bragged that it wasn't half HIS lifetime ago. I just concluded it means he is REALLY old.

So, as much as I joke about the crowd, I did indeed feel pretty good that I wasn't the oldest by a decade.

I shook my booty. I incorporated moves from my Zumba class. I sweat and realized I don't have the endurance I once did as a desperate single girl in my twenties.

A polyester shirt (What, don't hate, that shit is CLUB GOLD), 2 feet of smothering hair, new metallic earring that stuck to my neck sweat, and boots over jeans because I left my funky sandals somewhere else over the weekend: All things conducive to cooking yourself from the inside out.

I was a sweat factory. I'd like to think it was a stunning "dewy" look, but in truth, my eyelids were even sweating. MY EYELIDS, people. Feyoncé™ joked that next time he would have to wear a toque and scarf to experience the same effect. Pffff. Men.

Not to be confused with C & C Music Factory, or their song "Gonna Make You Sweat" which I ALSO remember dancing to in or around 1992. I had that TAPE... word to your mother.

I realized that a lot of my old favourites are fucking RETRO now. Dear Gawd.

I requested my new favourite song - the explicit version of Enrique Iglesias' "Tonight I'm 'LOVING' You", and they played the clean version. Feyoncé™ requested "More" by Usher, but it was not meant to be. Probably for the best in the end, because I probably would have overheated... much like a 31 year old car.

It WAS good to get out there and shake my ass again. It's been a long, long time.

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Now Flavoured With Bacon!

My aunt-in-law sent me this video and *I* think it is adorable... not sure if Feyoncé™ felt the same about it, but my parents got a kick out of it.

Anyway, here goes:



Aaaaaaaaaaaaaw!


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I'm not dead... sort of...

Hi everyone!

I know, you've probably all assumed that I have left the blogosphere and collective interwebz, on a quest to find the golden chalice, instead running into car trouble in Albuquerque, becoming stranded, dehydrated, living off of a raven carcass, all the while drinking my own urine to stay alive.

Well... you would be partly right.

Anyway, life has been very interesting for the past six weeks. I have no abandoned the blog, just had to focus on things like carcasses, urine and gold.

I'm sure you understand.

You know, all two of you that still bother to come back and read. Okay, okay, sorry mom. All three of you.

I promise to be back, with tales from afar. Dogs with PTSD. Learning how to grow... into a larger-sized Diva cup.

(Only some of this is true).

(Okay, maybe all of it).

I don't have the ability to include a self-portrait with Fergus (the dead raven) on the side of the road, so you'll just have to trust me for now.

And no, I am not tapping my fingertips together like Mr. Burns, eerily whispering the word "EXCELLENT..."

(Okay, it's true, I am).

I shall return... sooner than we all think.

I can see a very burly, terrifying man approaching in a tow truck now. Wish me luck!

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