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There are as many pimples on my face as there are spots at the damn Ladybug Picnic.

If I was going to be stuck with the skin of a sixteen year old, you'd think I could at least have her boobs too. Grrr.

Cart Stalking

Do you ever check out what other people have in their grocery carts while waiting in line at the cash? I'm astonished at what people buy sometimes -- why is that man buying eight boxes of Bran Buds, for example? I also wonder if people do the same to me, and it makes me super-self-conscious on the days I'm buying for a party (I SWEAR!) and makes me want to justify the chips, the dip, the sugar, the pop. Worst was being in the store with my friend (I SWEAR! Not me!) as she bought tampons, laxatives, condoms, and yeast infection treatment all at once. I don't know how she could have topped herself.

Yesterday I watched as a woman purchased a massive 10kg bag of MAXX kitty litter and a bean burrito. She also had wanted to buy an apple, but didn't have enough cash, so she put the apple back. My question is, how does a huge bag of kitty litter veto an apple? Why not just buy a smaller bag of litter? Is it a kitty litter emergency?

Val's Virtuous Veggie Challenge

For a few months now, I've made it a point to try a new vegetable every time I go to the grocery store (so, about once a week. Okay, exactly once a week, on Thursdays, right after spinning and boot camp are done at 9:00... what can I say? I'm a creature of habit.)

Most recently I've tried the following:

Napa cabbage (meh, but I probably didn't cook it properly)
Kohlrabi (meh)
Pattypan squash (not exactly new, but reintroduced after a long hiatus, and yum!)
Collard greens (yum, but they don't count as a vegetable if they're cooked in BACON FAT)
Chinese yard-long beans (also not new, but I've never cooked them myself -- and yum)
Rapini (yuck the first time, yum the second)
Fava beans (yum!)
Fennel (yum!)
Leeks (yum, after a lifetime of loathing)

I like almost all other vegetables with the exception of the poor eggplant, which makes my tongue itch. I adore brussels sprouts.

Last week there was a challenge on another website I visit (and shall remain anonymous, because I'm about to mock them) where members were asked to try a new vegetable that week. I was shocked by the results.

One member tried asparagus, which she had had before, but only in butter and garlic, and this time she had it with balsamic vinegar. She thought it was okay and might try it again.

Another member had broccoli, but this time she added it to her pasta, and normally she just makes it on the side. She really really liked this.

Oh, and a third member had sweet potatoes for the first time and counted that as her new vegetable.

There are actually people in this world who do not eat vegetables as a staple part of their daily diet. There are people who count iceberg lettuce on a hamburger as a veggie serving. Some people never eat anything that once had roots, grew in soil, gathered sunlight and nourishment from the earth, photosynthesized, grew seeds, grew leaves, or was harvested, unless it comes in the form of a loaf of white bread or a potato chip.

The Canada Food Guide recommends five to ten servings of fruit and vegetables per day. One serving is half a cup of fresh, frozen, or canned vegetable or a medium piece of fruit. Even a half of a cup of juice counts as a serving. How can so many people fall so desperately short of these guidelines when it's so easy and tasty to meet them?

I wonder what delights await me in the produce aisle this week! I challenge everyone to do the same: try something new, keep an open mind, and let me know how it went!

Hey Momma

This weekend I trundled down to Woodstock, ON for an early celebration of my mom's birthday (a lady never reveals her true age, you know!) This was a particularly joyous occasion for us, because she's been on vacation and we haven't seen her for six long weeks while she sunned herself, relaxed, and enjoyed the company of her family.

So, happy birthday, Momma, we love you so much!




Christine and I are big dorks:






So is Jake.

Everybody's Favourite Game Show

Every few weeks a relative stranger will say to me: "Where are you from?" I know what he or she's asking, but I play stupid. "What do you mean?" "I mean, what's your ethnic background?"

Here we go. Sigh. Tonight's version was, "You're either Japanese or Korean, right?"

Nope!

"So what are you, then?"

I bristle at that phrase. So what are you, then? Animal? Vegetable? Tuberous root? Why is it okay to interrogate me about my ethnic origins? And why do people even care about that?

Anyway, because I have what my friend Colleen calls, "brought-upsies", I will answer politely and say that I am mostly of Chinese descent, which brings on a flurry of more questions: Really? You don't look it. Chinese and what? Where did you get the freckles from? Do you speak it? Why not? Were you born here? Will you walk on my back? Do you play the piano or the violin?

Back to the original point -- why is it okay to ask me what I am because I look a certain way? I certainly wouldn't think to ask it of anyone.

No brought-upsies from those types, clearly.

As an aside, you would not believe the amount of snow that has fallen in the past ten hours or so. It's up to my knees, people.