Goals for this Week

Hi friends!

Apparently lots of self-help "gurus"/"geniuses"/people-who-just-managed-to get-published suggest writing lists of goals. If it is written down, it is more likely to become a reality. I tried a slightly different twist on this and drew a picture of a beautiful birthday cake. I stared at it for awhile but it didn't turn into a real cake. When I ate it, it tasted like paper and pencil crayon.

Just kidding! I use markers, not pencil crayons.

Also, it took me three tries to spell crayon. Actually, just twice. I spelled it wrong and then spell-checked it and now feel the burning urge (not related to UTIs) to know the history of crayons and the word origin. But we'll save that for other day.

Goals for this Week - (many of which centre around the Red Island Relay)

• Firstly, of course, become a strong, black woman. Strong white women aren't nearly as impressive as strong black women. I'm either going to need to take a trip to the skin dying section of the pharmacy or may have to settle for trying to convince people my colouring is actually that of a Mediterranean woman. In that case....
• Become a strong Mediterranean woman. I just need to change my last name to pull this one off. And become strong. Very strong. Like Angry Italian Grandmother strong.
• Caress my bike tires seductively and convince them to protect my bike tubes... like a strong Mediterranean woman would. Last year I borrowed a beautiful road bike for the Relay that was about to be donated to Cycling PEI. I took the darling Blue Lightning (I just came up with that name - one year too late) on her maiden voyage the night before the relay and all was good. A wee bit of tinkering with the seat and we high fived in excitement. The next day during the 26-km road leg I biked over what must had been a giant boulder (no bike pun intended, and was actually probably a rock the size of a cheap, cruddy diamond) and pffffffft the air was gone from my tire. This was well chronicled in a blog post last year, but the pain still remains. Papa even said to me (in dry sarcasm as only a MacPhail can do), "I don't think we'll bother to go watch any this year, no point in driving all the way to Brudenell just to see you get a ride in a dump truck."



Cool! That's me and my borrowed bike in a dump truck, getting a lift to the finish line. Hi Jennifer!!


• Learn to control the weather. I don't even know how to approach this. However, I would like for the winds not to be ridiculous on Saturday, I would like minimal rain in the preceding days other wise my sexy hybrid tires will sink into the trail during the 'mountain bike' leg of the event. I also just want to see the sun more than once or (OMG!) twice per week. I miss it.
• Be in good condition after the Relay. Heading to the wine festival a few hours afterwards. Need to be in top shape so I can wear heels as flats will look awkward with my dress. I shall wear the same dress as last year, as it's now stained with wine and jagerbombs so may as well continue to destroy it rather than wrecking something new. =smart.
• Have an intelligent conversation in French. I get incredibly confident in my French skills when drinking wine, particularly French wine. I then talk to the French wine producers (though usually the booths are staffed by Canucks, but the odd person who has at least actually *been* to the winery is present) and attempt to seduce them with my stylings of a terrible anglophone French accent. Hasn't been successful yet - but could this be the year?!
• Incorporate more colour into my wardrobe. This is generally an on-going goal.. to blind everyone who looks at me.
• Potentially become an X-Men geek. I think I'd be good at it, but I would have a lot of years to catch up on. Basically this is directly related to watching Wolverine with Shannon last night, or, to quote me, "Ooh! The movie where Hugh Jackman is all hot and runs around naked in the woods!!" Shannon pointed out that particular scene was only a minute or two long. Apparently in my head I remembered that being most of the movie.
• Don't get hit by a car/beastly motorised vehicle. I'm starting to keep track of how many cars cut me off when I'm dashing about town on my bike. Today I almost got hit by a giant Trius charter bus pulling out of the University into the round about right in front of me. The driver was on a mobile phone and politely waved at me when I braked hard and threw my hand in the air in exasperation at him. Glad I was watching closely. I don't think Jen + Bike would had won the battle against a 16-thousand billion ton bus. F-bomb.
• Eat supper. It's 10:30pm and I haven't eaten supper yet. Whatever.

All these goals should become very true and real now, fore I have written them down. Hurrah!

I wish it were career day

Oh, hiiiiii!

Sometimes I go for stretches of time without writing. Generally this can be attributed to good weather, but that's not the case right now. Anyone who has been within 800 feet of me in the past 30 hours can pretty much feel the weather hate oozing out of my pores. Three days without seeing blue sky or sun, and having big winds pick at my hair pretty much means I have to be drugged in order to smile. Don't mess with my natural vitamin D intake and outdoor-playtime endorphin release. In a related note, I would never survive living up north during the darkest point of winter. You would find me sniffling in my bedroom hugging my blankets and pillows with a grip usually reserved for dictators clinging to power in a rebelling country.

Today I had a conversation with a friend and she told me a couple of the things she was told rocked about having children. We determined most of these things could be fulfilled through a pet (most likely a monkey), or dating Danny Bhoy.



(Specific clip selected due to out-siesta-ing every Spaniard on the planet during my last vacation. You napped for an hour? Well, I slept for most of a 7.5-hr train ride in the late morning through early evening. Take that, Juan y Laura-Maria!)

We didn't get very far in our conversation as I get incredibly distracted anytime Danny Bhoy pops up (if he ever pops up at my door and you have plans with me for that day, considered them cancelled). And subject matter changes quickly. We probably eventually talked about our feelings. I probably whined about the weather and collapsed dramatically on the floor due to rickets potentially developing in my legs as per lack of sun vitamin D deficiency. Then I typically feel guilty about whining since life is good and I have access to clean and always available tap water, have a [rented] home, a family, and two incredibly sexy bicycles.

In quite important news, I'm thinking about a career change. Ninja? Yes please!

Culturally insensitive? Yes. But dangerously beautiful? BIGGER YES.

When visiting Teachaah (not her real name... well, kinda) in Abu Dhabi, she showed me how to properly dress for the mosque we would be visiting the following day. While the face covering wasn't necessary, I asked her to show me how to do it. Instead of feeling like a shamed Arab woman (was that insensitive?), I felt like a ninja and felt the abaya (the main robe part) was perfect for hiding my weapons. But which Ninja Turtle to be inspired by? The grace of Leonardo and his slender katana swords? Useful for cutting both villains AND pizza. However, Donatello and his majestic bo staff (large stick) seems more traditional, like a fight in the woods again beautifully gingered vikings. Rafael has the fork things, which Wikipedia insists are called "sai". Say, what? While I admired Rafael's humour during my youth, one must get awfully close to her antagonist to effectively fight with only the large forks. Our last option is Michelangelo and his "nunchaku" (again, told to me by Wikipedia, we always called them "knunchucks"). While, as a ninja, I can hide many things under my "ninbaya" (cross between ninja and abaya), I think I will take the swords. They double as mirrors and can also be used for a quick hair cut when I meet that point of no return after not cutting my hair during the my eight-month long mission.

The Wikipedia write off also states who each Ninja Turtle is named after by stating, for example, "the Italian polymath, scientist, engineer, inventor, anatomist, and painter, Leonardo da Vinci".

I kind of feel like an underachiever. If something/someone were to be named after me, Wikipedia would say, "Named after Jennifer, the eater, writer... something or other. Didn't she have a CD or something? No? That was Jennifer Lopez? Okay, let's wrap this article up."

On that note, I should be using my time wisely now, learning how to hide quietly in trees, and making ninja stars from aluminum foil leftover from housemate's wing order.

Ta!