Totally Bad Ad. Really.

I don't know if it's the popularity of Mad Men, or just the fact that I watch far too much tv, but I am fascinated with ads.

People spend thousands of dollars, more even, to get a campaign just right. And Donald Draper makes it looks so easy. Flicking off one-liners like they're ashes from his elegantly smoking cigarette. I don't know how he does it. His underlings come to him with what I believe is a super idea, and he picks it apart effortlessly, pointing out mistakes that I would never have seen.

But I see enough ads to know what speaks to me. I also fancy myself savvy enough to know when an ad is just plain awful.

Case in point, the new campaign for Dufferin Mall: "Dufferin Mall. Really."

Now, for those not familiar with this mall, I would describe it as, well, at best, "sketchy". It has some nice stores like Toys R Us, Winners, and H&M. Most of the stores, however, are the kind where plaid shirts and acid wash jeans have ruled supreme for the past 20 years, and are not just a nod to 80's fashion revival. They are trying to be family friendly, with a huge family washroom, and a small Early Years Centre. I visit there frequently on my way to Dufferin Grove Park, which is possibly the best park in the whole of the west end.

I see what they're trying to do. I see that they are trying to make themselves seem more upscale, more like a destination mall rather than a mall on the way to a destination. They are trying to be more hip. But this poster could not represent them less.

On a good day, I am the youngest, most attractive person there. (That should end the conversation right there....). Me, with my saggy jeans, un-made-up face and two screaming kids. I seriously doubt you could find an outfit like that in the mall - possibly at H&M - and you certainly can't find anyone who looks like that who would be caught dead there. Yes, they are trying to seem posh. But sometimes, though, you should bank on your strengths: a family friendly mall that offers some cost-effective alternatives.

All that aside, though, did no one - NO ONE - look at this ad and read it out loud the way I read it the first time I saw it:

"Dufferin Mall. REALLY??" (Insert tone of derision and contempt on last word.)

That's a bad ad. Really.

Six of One, Half a Dozen of Another

For the love of all that is holy, I can't make a decision to save my life. We're renovating our kitchen. I've narrowed down the floor to two choices:

A) Wild Cherry - left

B) Chesnut - right

The Wild Cherry works with the mid-tones of the current American Cherry hardwood. The Chesnut pulls out the deeper red tones. The Cherry looks nicer next to the white cabinets. The Chesnut looks nicer next to the hardwood.The Cherry is the safer choice. The Chesnut is the more dynamic one.

We're renovating with an eye to resale, but still have to live with the kitchen in the meantime.

Help, please.

Blah-gg, Blah-gger, Blah-gging

Tap, Tap. Anyone still out there? Anyone??

As someone who prides themselves on being a multi-tasker, I am shocked to discover that I can't seem to do more than one thing at a time.

First, it was getting Big C off to school and all that entails. Holy crap, there's a lot of paperwork. And rules for what we can and can't bring for snack. And more paperwork. And parent meetings where they make you feel bad for not volunteering for the Parent Council. I've decided that there are certain people - neither good nor bad - who run for Parent Councils. They are probably the same people who ran for Student Council when they were younger. I was the geek in the drama club. I am not the governing type.

Then, I spent two whole weeks preparing for an audition which I didn't get. Suffice to say that I am somewhat humiliated that I couldn't get a role in community theatre, for which I extensively prepared, and for which the director personally invited me to audition. Apparently, I am not queen material. To which I say a very royal "Eff Off!" (Hm. Mayhap that was not very dignified..) FAIL.

Now, I spend every waking and while-I'm-supposed-to-be-sleeping moment planning and fretting about our upcoming kitchen renovation. Frankly, I thought it would be a lot more fun. However, I lose interest after choosing the colour scheme. Not to mention, the IKEA Home Planner is a lot like doing a puzzle with math. I like neither puzzles, nor math. And why is it so hard to get hold of contractors?

I'm excited and terrified to be finally renovating a kitchen that has needed an overhaul for the past 7 years. I want it to be done yesterday. Everything is moving at a snail's pace, and this frustrates me. And I'll be devasted if, once done, it doesn't look fabulous. OF COURSE it will look better than it does now. ANYTHING would look better than our ragamuffin kitchen, but if I'm going to do something, I want it to be perfect. Better than perfect, if possible. I also don't know how it's possible to live through a kitchen renovation with two small children, one of which is a very light sleeper, and both of which will lose their cookies if they are not fed at regular intervals with the food they are used to.

The stress has wreaked havoc on my skin, and I retreat - in my non-existent spare time - to vapid TV dramas like The Vampire Diaries. The show is not good, and I can't get enough of it. In times of upheaval and disappointment, it's good to watch very pretty people, people who seem to have everything under control, get eaten.

Please don't take off while I get my act together.

Run, NoMo, Run.

The hardest part about running is getting out the door.

I've been running for about 11 years now and this is as true now as the first day I put on my sneakers and headed outside. The hardest part is making yourself do it. In fact, it's even harder now that I have two kids. There's always an excuse. I'm too tired. I had a bad day. I could use a nap. I want to sleep in. I don't have the time. I haven't had a glass of water since - wait, did I even get a chance to drink today?

I started running because Mr Earth-to-be decided he was going to start running to get in shape, and I didn't want to be left out. I also didn't want to watch my ass get larger while he got leaner and healthier.

I found that I liked it. I started out running for about a half hour, and everytime I felt like I could go a bit further, I added another five minutes onto the run. It took about a year until I could run for an hour easily, but I never got past that point. (Except that one time when I unwittingly ran past my turnaround point, but that's a story for another day..)

When we moved to our house, I met up with an old schoolmate who ran with an informal group. She invited me to join, and I agreed - never intending to actually go. Then I got to thinking: why the hell not? So I did. The group was led by a 60-year-old man who had done countless marathons and who could run circles around me. Thanks to him, I ran my first 5K race and mustered up the courage to take on a half marathon.

I got into running more and more, and joined an official training group. With them, I managed to complete a 30K race, and was training for a marathon. The marathon happened to be scheduled ont the same day as a 10-hour rehearsal I had for my current play. I didn't feel that I could do both in one day, and the rehearsal won out. I ran a 40K training run the day before, though, because I hated to waste all that training time. The next weekend I took a pregnancy test and it was positive, and I gave up the idea of marathoning for a while.

I ran through both pregnancies: to 37 weeks with Big C, and 36 weeks with Little G. Both were born a week after I stopped running. Do you think they were enjoying the ride, or wondering when is this chick going to stop running long enough for me to get the hell outta Dodge? Since having kids, I haven't been able to run much longer than 10K. There just isn't the time to train that I used to have. And I'm tired. And I like napping. And I keep forgetting to drink water.

But, I'll tell you this: in the 10 or so years since I've decided that my health matters and I really need to give this exercise thing a go, I've tried TaeBo, kickboxing, yoga, pilates, spinning, gravity, aerobics, and weight training. Running is the only thing that I keep coming back to, time and again.

It's the perfect exercise. (Well, maybe not 'perfect' - it has yet to get rid of the muffin top..) You can do it alone, or in a group. You can run for fun, or compete. You can wear some ratty shorts and old shoes, or you can have the latest gadgets and gizmos. You can be short, tall, skinny, fat, fast, slow and it doesn't matter. You don't need any particular skill or coordination, just determination. And that, I have in spades. I always smile when I hear someone say: "Oh, I'm not running today, I'm on vacation." For me, vacation means having more time to run. Not squeezing it in before the kids wake up, between meals, or during nap time.

I started out running to lose weight, but that's not why I continue to do it (although it's a nice bonus). I need to run. When I'm running, I feel like everything else just fades into the background: stress, anger, frustration, and yes, even exhaustion. It keeps me sane. After I run, I yell less. I'm annoyed less. I'm more patient. I'm more enthusiastic. I have more energy. It gives me confidence, because I feel like even if my day falls to pieces around me at least, at least, I've accomplished that one thing.

That one thing is huge, too, because so many people think that they can't do it, but I know the truth. I can. Anyone can. All you have to do is take the first step: Get out the door.

It's hard. But it's so worth it.

Who ya gonna call?

Captions I thought of for this picture:

1. Are they giving them away? Some clarification please.
2. I've haven't enjoyed my neighbourhood walk so much in a long time.
3. Somebody sure has a high opinion of himself.
4. I wish I'd seen this sign before I agreed to get married.
5. Mr Earth was slightly intimidated by this sign.
6. If I'd known this was just down the street, we'd have bought a different house.
7. Where the heck is my *$%@ phone?!
8. If it truly is that big, do you really need a sign?
9. I stood around waiting for something to happen, but after 30 seconds I just left in disappointment.
10. This sign must have been made by a man. In reality it was only 2 inches long.

Close Encounters

What a long strange day this has been.

It started about 3am, when Big C woke up and decided he couldn't be consoled unless he slept in the "big bed" with me. I don't usually do this, but the boys and I were having a sleepover at my parents house, and what the hell. As long as I got to sleep, I didn't really care. Of course, I didn't. I was awake for an hour afterwards, and then awake every hour after that. Then I was so tired that I slept through my 6am wake-up time.

I managed to get out of the house at 6:35am for a run along the escarpment trail. Hot as soup, it was. It felt like I was sweating oil along with, well, sweat. Attractive, I KNOW. I got to the part of the trail where it either veered off into houses on the edge of the escarpment (or "mountain" as we delightfully smart born-and-bred Ti-Cats refer to it), or you could continue on into the the less maintained part of the trail. I was unsure of my way in the mountain streets, so I decided to continue on the trail on the trail for 5 more minutes until I reached my half-hour turnaround point. It felt like I was venturing into No Man's Land (or was that Nomo's Land..??), but what is life without a little risk..?

Not too far in, I deftly veered out of the way of some prominent animal leavings, and saw a brown rabbit sitting calmly in the brush to the side of the road. Further down the rabbit hole I went. Before I had run the requisite 5 minutes, something large burst out of the trees to the left and crossed the path a few feet from where I was running. It was a deer. I stopped and watched it join it's mate in the forest to the right. They were eating and cautiously watching me to see what I would do. I stopped in my tracks and watched to see what they would do. I took this as a sign that I should turn around and go back. Leave nature to unfold..naturally.

I picked up the pace and came across several deer on my right, standing at the edge of the road. I started counting and there were nine in total, one, a baby spotted fawn. I slowed down again, and walked as calmly and unthreateningly past them as I could. They watched me warily to see what I would do. I watched them warily to see what they would do. It was like an old-fashioned showdown without the gunslinging.

The rest of the run passed uneventfully, although a bug did fly up my nose. And one stinger rode on my hat for a while. That was fun. Buggers.

On the drive back to Toronto, Big C said that he had had trouble sleeping last night because there were flashing lights in his room. Puzzled, I asked flashing lights from where? From the window?? My mind immediately going to aliens. I watch far too much weird TV. He said they were coming from inside the room. From 'reflections'. I let the conversation drop. There are some things I don't want to know, and aliens top that list.

At 7pm, the skies opened up and we had the most frightening weather I have ever been witness to in my life. Rain bucketing. Wind whipping. Tornado watching. Rooves ripped off. Houses destroyed. Somebody killed. I watched the TV and the window, frightened that it would strike our house. Strangely, I had no fear for myself, only the need to get the kids to safety. Out of harm's way. Nature is powerful.

It passed as quickly as it came on, and in the end, a beautiful rainbow. Now I remember why I loved them as a child. They mean that all is safe.

They say that animals (and perhaps small children?) sense danger, and act strangely when something big is going to happen. Who knows. But I won't look at a deer in quite the same way again.

Just another Manic Monday.

Wish it were Sunday.

Strike that.

Wish it were Saturday. Had impromptu dinner party. Parents came over to watch kids for afternoon and stayed for dinner. Cousin and new husband popped over and stayed for dinner. Made full use of fabulous new patio set from Canadian Tire. Much wine was drunk. Am probably still drunk. Felt like real family settling into house instead of wannabes.

Saw new Star Trek movie while parents watched napping kids. Finally understand why people attracted to Kirk thanks to Chris Pine. Yowza. Hiya Hotstuff! Other actors better, though. More on that later this week over at Playdate.

Embarrassed to admit was scared by first episode of Supernatural. Lame, much?

Am terribly nauseous. Barely keeping down food. Too much wine last night? Since when is half a bottle too much? (Am obviously heavyweight drinker but am no drunkard. Yet.) Maybe should drink more. Hair of the dog.

Perhaps nausea stems from Bill Saundercook's daycare freeze? Am considering writing strongly-worded letter but don't know where to start..

Big C being total asshat today. Can say this about own children? Perhaps unwise. But not untrue. Have been screamed at more times than care to count. Timeout count rising exponentially. Restraining urge to throw things.

Evil Cat Willow also being jerk. Should have adopted hamster. Chew jacket? Jump on table. No sir.

Little G font of snot and site of unpredictable tantrum storms. Still.

Am wondering if people can really have 900 Facebook friends. 900? Really?? Perhaps "friend" should be redefined.

Have given up on use of pronouns and other words deemed unnecessary. Too much energy.

Bedtime yet?

I need some support hos

No, that's not a typo. I was trying to be all hip-like, and just ended up sounding like I can't pass a grade school spelling test (or grammar test, for that matter). Further proof that ageing caucasian females should perhaps not attempt street lingo. But after Randy Jackson stole the word "dude" from the caucasion population, I felt the need to get some of my own back.

Anyhow.

In a fit of fancy, I signed up for a 10K race this Sunday. I KNOW. Crazy, right? I don't think I've run a race since before Big C was born. Please send me some good vibes this Sunday at 8am (if you're awake). I will need all the support I can. And since the boys are all coming to cheer me on, I have to finish the race somehow. Run, Phatgirl, Run.

In other news, I am considering a new business venture over at Playdate. If you have young children, and are a fan of a good storytime, please pop over and give me your feedback, will you?

Yo.

Hungry Like the Wolf

Sketched quickly while waiting for Mr Earth to finish his shower so we could go do the grocery shopping. The Boy was drawing with markers, and asking me constantly what I was drawing. The Little Guy was being entertained with a steady stream of chew toys. Sophie, unfortunately, got caught in the the maws of death.

Dirty, dirty girl...

Overheard at the breakfast table this morning:

"Mummy, don't eat from yer box!"

Ahem.

I believe the Boy meant to say "don't eat from THE box". (I was eating cereal directly out of the box...bad mummy).

*******

And for Mad - because there aren't enough photos of me - my six word autobiography:

Present, but not yet accounted for.

Study In Green Crayon

for Wordless Wednesday