As another year end approaches, one might start to look back on the past 12 months and reflect on the things you had hoped to accomplish. Did you? Here's how much 2010 shaped up as compared to how I hoped it would.
#1) Recycle more! Is it just me or is it becoming more challenging and expensive to recycle? I have a bag full of plastic items that one day I swear I'm going to sneak out and leave in one of the neighbors recycle pick up containers. Remember when recycling plastic was free? I also have two big boxes of cardboard/paper items sitting in the front porch that give me a dirty look every time I leave the house, begging to be taken to the bin. Guess what I'll be doing on days off during the holidays? Tia gets an epic fail grade on recycling.
#2) Eat better! Well, let's see. In March I had a broken jaw and eating in general was limited to liquids or soft foods for 6 weeks. I did consume a lot of apple sauce, fruit juice and V8...and pasta, lots of pasta! Tia got a little fluffy. Then in September my braces came off and this whole new world of eating exploration began. Tia got a little more fluffier. Oh how I like my chicken wings, popcorn, pistachios and more. Tia gets an epic fail on eating better.
#3) Make some career moves UP on the ladder. I'm too ambitious for some people. I'm not ambitious enough for others (don't let your porridge hit you on the way out). Someone tells me I have a great shot at a job then gives me the runaround for 2 months. I'm aware I'm a woman, but how exactly does that disqualify me from doing an afternoon drive position? I'm sorry I just hit my head on the glass ceiling. On the upside, I did get a fine offer to sell frozen meats from home from a company in Toronto. Although I get an epic fail grade on career moves, it doesn't matter. I'm going to win the lottery anyways and will retire before I'm 40.
#4) Get married and have a kid! This one is for my mom's sake so she at least thinks I'm trying. Darn, didn't get ahead much on this one either. Epic fail. Oh well, here's to 2011? Or maybe not. In line at the Walmart on Saturday amongst the holiday rush, i'm behind this mother and her little guy sitting in the cart. He looks at me and says "You're not the boss of me!". Lesson in birth control right there I say!
#5) Let go of people who aren't healthy for your soul! I've tried and I've tried. Sometimes though, when you think you've got it licked, they show up in your life somehow someway and you can't help but feel like there's a reason for it. I'm getting there though. But still, epic fail Daniels! Stop being so nice.
#6) Take a road trip just because I can! I did accomplish one thing this year. Drove all the way down to Starbuck, Minnesota with stops in Fargo and Moorehead. Passing grade!
Morale of the story? I clearly have some work to do in 2011 :)
Tia
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Me Time is the Best Time
Last week I did one of my quarterly trips to Toronto, stayed at my usual hotel, and went to the usual places I go. But this time was different, and I'll tell you why!
A few years ago, I had a boss tell me that although they appreciated my devoted passion for the station, they felt I was investing too much of my personal time and being into the workplace, and wasn't allowing myself much "Tia Time". Having grown up with a very strong work ethic, what is this "Tia Time" you speak of? Shame on you!
The older I get however, the more I do make "Tia Time". Most times when I go to Toronto, I call all my friends to say "hey, let's get together" and plan some good quality time with them and usually wind up with some pretty decent sized beer tabs to expense. This trip was a me trip though, so unless someone reached out to me, it was going to be ALL ABOUT ME. I felt bad at having missed seeing some people, but I also felt pretty relaxed by the time Monday rolled around. It wasn't about going there to socialize and take in all these events, but moreso about clearing my head, getting it on straight, and breathing a little bit. And as crazy as it sounds, even something as annoying as riding the Subway was refreshing. And not once did I have a single alcoholic beverage. I know! WTF.
Thank you to those friends who did reach out, you are the best and a big part of the reason I like coming out. To those who didn't call, you're bastards! Ha ha kidding. We'll see you next time...and for everyone else, try it. Go away one weekend and just enjoy some "you time".
Tia
A few years ago, I had a boss tell me that although they appreciated my devoted passion for the station, they felt I was investing too much of my personal time and being into the workplace, and wasn't allowing myself much "Tia Time". Having grown up with a very strong work ethic, what is this "Tia Time" you speak of? Shame on you!
The older I get however, the more I do make "Tia Time". Most times when I go to Toronto, I call all my friends to say "hey, let's get together" and plan some good quality time with them and usually wind up with some pretty decent sized beer tabs to expense. This trip was a me trip though, so unless someone reached out to me, it was going to be ALL ABOUT ME. I felt bad at having missed seeing some people, but I also felt pretty relaxed by the time Monday rolled around. It wasn't about going there to socialize and take in all these events, but moreso about clearing my head, getting it on straight, and breathing a little bit. And as crazy as it sounds, even something as annoying as riding the Subway was refreshing. And not once did I have a single alcoholic beverage. I know! WTF.
Thank you to those friends who did reach out, you are the best and a big part of the reason I like coming out. To those who didn't call, you're bastards! Ha ha kidding. We'll see you next time...and for everyone else, try it. Go away one weekend and just enjoy some "you time".
Tia
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
What's with Hickies?
I was in line at a store last night behind this woman. She must have been in her 30's, yet her neck was marked up both sides with hickies.
What's the deal with hickies?? I've never had a single one in my life. I had a high school friend who'd come to school everyday with a new hickie it seemed. I guess when we were younger, a hickie was a rite of passage to show you were popular? What the F does having a hickie when you're in your 30's mean?
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for making out. But really...gross. If you want to show someone she's your girl, buy her jewelery. I'm sure she'd like that much better. I know I would.
Tia
What's the deal with hickies?? I've never had a single one in my life. I had a high school friend who'd come to school everyday with a new hickie it seemed. I guess when we were younger, a hickie was a rite of passage to show you were popular? What the F does having a hickie when you're in your 30's mean?
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for making out. But really...gross. If you want to show someone she's your girl, buy her jewelery. I'm sure she'd like that much better. I know I would.
Tia
Monday, October 25, 2010
Scars to Prove It
If it's true that scars show character, I got to thinking I'm one hell of a character! Top to bottom, here's the shakedown:
Scar #1 - corner of my right eye from a little run in with an L bracket sticking out of a wall.I was actually very lucky I didn't take out my eye.
Scar #2 and #3 - incision scars from stitches behind my ear. Does anyone else just about pass out when they remove stitches??
Scar #4 - incision scar from mole removal.
Scar #5 & #6 - incision scars from Jaw surgery. Wow, I've had a lot of incisions haven't I?
Scar # 7 - burn mark on right hand from a bad episode of boiling water and maccaroni and cheese.
Scar #8, 9 and 10 - on hands...frickin' cats!
Scar #11 - scar on palm of hand from that time my friend Barb thought her dog Saturn WOULD NOT chase my cats in my apartment. EPIC FAIL!
Scar #12 - on stomach. Chicken pox.
Scar #13 - on left upper leg. Rollerblading accident in the coulees in Medicine Hat. Let's just say, it was all downhill....
Scar #14 - right shin. Continuance of rollerblading accident. It was a gooder.
Scar #15 - third toe on my right foot. Little run in with the bath tub. Don't ask.
Scar #16 - left food. Incision mark on side of foot. Scar from pin placement on top of foot.
I'm a marked woman it appears. If I ever go missing, you know what to look for now k.
Tia
Scar #1 - corner of my right eye from a little run in with an L bracket sticking out of a wall.I was actually very lucky I didn't take out my eye.
Scar #2 and #3 - incision scars from stitches behind my ear. Does anyone else just about pass out when they remove stitches??
Scar #4 - incision scar from mole removal.
Scar #5 & #6 - incision scars from Jaw surgery. Wow, I've had a lot of incisions haven't I?
Scar # 7 - burn mark on right hand from a bad episode of boiling water and maccaroni and cheese.
Scar #8, 9 and 10 - on hands...frickin' cats!
Scar #11 - scar on palm of hand from that time my friend Barb thought her dog Saturn WOULD NOT chase my cats in my apartment. EPIC FAIL!
Scar #12 - on stomach. Chicken pox.
Scar #13 - on left upper leg. Rollerblading accident in the coulees in Medicine Hat. Let's just say, it was all downhill....
Scar #14 - right shin. Continuance of rollerblading accident. It was a gooder.
Scar #15 - third toe on my right foot. Little run in with the bath tub. Don't ask.
Scar #16 - left food. Incision mark on side of foot. Scar from pin placement on top of foot.
I'm a marked woman it appears. If I ever go missing, you know what to look for now k.
Tia
Monday, October 18, 2010
Funny Boob Story
It's October, and everywhere you turn there's pink this and that as we honor Breast Cancer Awareness month. I've personally encountered this disease in more ways than I'd like. I have a couple of Aunts who are survivors, the mother of the family I lived with in high school is a survivor, and my mother is also a survivor.
I remember getting my mom's call with the news. I was living in what we called "Chat Towers" in Medicine Hat. It was a difficult phone call as you can imagine. I wanted her move her to the Hat where she could stay with me, I could take care of her, and there was a Cancer clinic there as well. She chose to stay in BC and weather it out there for her treatment.
Her treatment was a difficult one. She had a full mastectomy, which was very emotionally and mentally hard on her. You hear tales of how long it takes for a woman to take a look at herself in the mirror and feel good about herself. My mom was no exception. But in true Carol style that she's so typical of, she turned a serious situation into one of the funniest stories I've had the pleasure of telling.
After her mastectomy, she was put on a waiting list for an implant and she was eagerly awaiting the procedure. You know that excitement that kids have on Christmas Eve? That was her. But after waiting and waiting for what seemed forever, she was getting frustrated. So she did some investigating and found out some shocking news! The boob she had on order, that was supposed to be her boob, got lost! They lost her fake boob! And boy was she mad! As it turns out, there had been a mix up, and they'd given her boob to someone else by accident. She was so livid she wanted to go find this woman and demand she get her boob back. Yup, that's my mom! Eventually they replaced her boob, literally, and she was a happy camper again. When it comes to the seriousness of Breast Cancer, it saddens me a little because of my personal attachment to it, but then I think of my mom putting out an APB on her boob, and it makes me smile. And her being a survivor, brings tears to my eyes. She's taken a lickin', and keeps on tickin'.
Tia
I remember getting my mom's call with the news. I was living in what we called "Chat Towers" in Medicine Hat. It was a difficult phone call as you can imagine. I wanted her move her to the Hat where she could stay with me, I could take care of her, and there was a Cancer clinic there as well. She chose to stay in BC and weather it out there for her treatment.
Her treatment was a difficult one. She had a full mastectomy, which was very emotionally and mentally hard on her. You hear tales of how long it takes for a woman to take a look at herself in the mirror and feel good about herself. My mom was no exception. But in true Carol style that she's so typical of, she turned a serious situation into one of the funniest stories I've had the pleasure of telling.
After her mastectomy, she was put on a waiting list for an implant and she was eagerly awaiting the procedure. You know that excitement that kids have on Christmas Eve? That was her. But after waiting and waiting for what seemed forever, she was getting frustrated. So she did some investigating and found out some shocking news! The boob she had on order, that was supposed to be her boob, got lost! They lost her fake boob! And boy was she mad! As it turns out, there had been a mix up, and they'd given her boob to someone else by accident. She was so livid she wanted to go find this woman and demand she get her boob back. Yup, that's my mom! Eventually they replaced her boob, literally, and she was a happy camper again. When it comes to the seriousness of Breast Cancer, it saddens me a little because of my personal attachment to it, but then I think of my mom putting out an APB on her boob, and it makes me smile. And her being a survivor, brings tears to my eyes. She's taken a lickin', and keeps on tickin'.
Tia
Thursday, October 14, 2010
For your Consideration
Out of all our human capabilities, it's probably the easiest thing in the world to do - be considerate! Yet it amazes how many people are completely inconsiderate.
It happened to me yesterday and is probably one of my biggest pet peeves in the world, but I decided to actually gauge it a little bit for once. Don't you hate it when you're walking behind someone, approaching a door, they walk in, and don't even hold the door open for the person behind them, being you? How hard is it to hold a door open for two seconds for the person behind you? So over the course of this experiment, I found that only 1 of 3 people on average held the door open for others. Sad isn't it?
I've been accused of being annoyingly considerate, so I always hold the door open for the person behind me. Even if there's no one there, I always look back and check to be sure. Another interesting note from my experiment - many I encountered were a little surprised at having someone hold the door open for them. Have we become such a null and void society that we're surprised when someone does something nice for us?
Geographically if you go someplace like Toronto or Vancouver, don't expect many people to hold the door open for you. But here in Regina, where we're a little more in touch with our fellow man, I expected different. I'm disappointed.
Moral of the story, it's a small gesture, but it's a thoughtful one. Hold the door k?
Tia
It happened to me yesterday and is probably one of my biggest pet peeves in the world, but I decided to actually gauge it a little bit for once. Don't you hate it when you're walking behind someone, approaching a door, they walk in, and don't even hold the door open for the person behind them, being you? How hard is it to hold a door open for two seconds for the person behind you? So over the course of this experiment, I found that only 1 of 3 people on average held the door open for others. Sad isn't it?
I've been accused of being annoyingly considerate, so I always hold the door open for the person behind me. Even if there's no one there, I always look back and check to be sure. Another interesting note from my experiment - many I encountered were a little surprised at having someone hold the door open for them. Have we become such a null and void society that we're surprised when someone does something nice for us?
Geographically if you go someplace like Toronto or Vancouver, don't expect many people to hold the door open for you. But here in Regina, where we're a little more in touch with our fellow man, I expected different. I'm disappointed.
Moral of the story, it's a small gesture, but it's a thoughtful one. Hold the door k?
Tia
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Writer's Block
Now that the long weekend is behind us, I thought I'd better catch up on some blogging. Sadly though, I have no idea what to write about today. Must have been an eventful weekend huh?
I could write about how 2 years ago for Thanksgiving, I went through my entire Facebook friend list and wrote a personal Happy Thanksgiving message on each of their walls. Sadly no one seems to appreciate that kind of effort and I have triple the amount of friends now, and I'm lazy, so that's never going to happen again.
How about the fact that as I type this the tips of my fingers are frozen because someone in the office keeps turning the air conditioning on. Slowly but surely I'm getting closer to 20 degrees. If I live that long. Cough cough, sputter sputter.
I'm sure you'd love to hear about the fact that I made all that food for Thanksgiving, when I rarely cook, yet forgot to bring lunch today.
I'm also debating texting Carolyn Dawn Johnson. I'm supposed to pick her up tomorrow and don't know which hotel she's staying at. I should tell her to just start walking and I'll come find her. No?
In less than a month, I'm going to hit up Toronto for a few days, but am getting impatient waiting for a decent seat sale. Why did they have to change the whole "seat sale" concept? It's just not the same. I want to feel like I'm getting a deal, not the real price. Boo. Maybe I should follow my advice to CDJ above and just start walking.
Alas, I should probably get to work. You've been saved by the bell from any further dribble and babble.
Tia
I could write about how 2 years ago for Thanksgiving, I went through my entire Facebook friend list and wrote a personal Happy Thanksgiving message on each of their walls. Sadly no one seems to appreciate that kind of effort and I have triple the amount of friends now, and I'm lazy, so that's never going to happen again.
How about the fact that as I type this the tips of my fingers are frozen because someone in the office keeps turning the air conditioning on. Slowly but surely I'm getting closer to 20 degrees. If I live that long. Cough cough, sputter sputter.
I'm sure you'd love to hear about the fact that I made all that food for Thanksgiving, when I rarely cook, yet forgot to bring lunch today.
I'm also debating texting Carolyn Dawn Johnson. I'm supposed to pick her up tomorrow and don't know which hotel she's staying at. I should tell her to just start walking and I'll come find her. No?
In less than a month, I'm going to hit up Toronto for a few days, but am getting impatient waiting for a decent seat sale. Why did they have to change the whole "seat sale" concept? It's just not the same. I want to feel like I'm getting a deal, not the real price. Boo. Maybe I should follow my advice to CDJ above and just start walking.
Alas, I should probably get to work. You've been saved by the bell from any further dribble and babble.
Tia
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Name Game
Tia is not a common name, I'll give you that. As to my namesake, my mother did like to dip into the Tia Maria every now and then, although I hope it was not when she was pregnant with me. That would explain a lot of things I suppose. The actual meaning however is this: Tia in Spanish means "Aunt". My middle name is Marie and I have an Aunt Marie. Are you doing the math here? I'm named after my Aunt Marie apparently.
If I had a name like Sara, or Emily, or Jen, perhaps people would get my name right more often. I have been called many names over the course of my life. When I was a kid, other kids would call me Pia. Yes, kids are cruel. Then there were certain associations of rhyming my name with diarrhea. Again, cruel world.
As an adult, the wrong names are at least kinder. I had a meeting once with a guy who for the first half hour until someone corrected him, called me Tracy. He was trying to sell himself to me to get me to utilize his business. Needless to say, his wrong name impression cost him dearly. I had a listener call me up one day and call me Lisa, which is the name of a morning show co-host on a competitors station in town. A record company person recently called me Rustie. A lesson in proof-reading your emails before you are "re-generating the same email template" to everyone on your list. Men often just call me Bud because Tia is apparently hard to comprehend. I feel very Urban Cowboy-ish. And the most common mis-step on my name: people who call me Tina. The name Tina (no offense) reminds me of freckle-faced Cabbage Patch dolls, which I detest. Please don't ever call me Tina. I thank you in advance.
Tia
If I had a name like Sara, or Emily, or Jen, perhaps people would get my name right more often. I have been called many names over the course of my life. When I was a kid, other kids would call me Pia. Yes, kids are cruel. Then there were certain associations of rhyming my name with diarrhea. Again, cruel world.
As an adult, the wrong names are at least kinder. I had a meeting once with a guy who for the first half hour until someone corrected him, called me Tracy. He was trying to sell himself to me to get me to utilize his business. Needless to say, his wrong name impression cost him dearly. I had a listener call me up one day and call me Lisa, which is the name of a morning show co-host on a competitors station in town. A record company person recently called me Rustie. A lesson in proof-reading your emails before you are "re-generating the same email template" to everyone on your list. Men often just call me Bud because Tia is apparently hard to comprehend. I feel very Urban Cowboy-ish. And the most common mis-step on my name: people who call me Tina. The name Tina (no offense) reminds me of freckle-faced Cabbage Patch dolls, which I detest. Please don't ever call me Tina. I thank you in advance.
Tia
Monday, October 4, 2010
Am I a Local?
What is it about a person's appearance that instigates another person to geographically profile where you are from without even knowing you?
A few weeks ago at the CCMA's in Edmonton I was riding the elevator with this woman who I struck up a conversation with pretty much as soon as she got in the elevator. Within 30 seconds, she asked me if I was from Alberta. We continued to chat as we walked through the lobby and out onto the street where we went our separate ways. As I continued on my way, I began to analyze the conversation and found it interesting that she asked if I was from Alberta. She could have asked if I was from Edmonton, or generically asked where I was from, yet she chose that specific question. Did I not look like I was from Alberta, and if so, what constitutes looking like you're not from there? I grew up in Alberta, so it's not like I dress like I'm from Europe. Do I have an accent? It was one of those things that made me go hmmmmm.
Then on Saturday I was hosting a Songwriter's workshop in Regina. During intermission, I struck up a conversation with a gentleman who again, within a minute of us talking, asked if I was a "local". Again, this made me raise my eyebrows with amusement. Yes I was there with a handful of Toronto people as guests, but among them, you'd think being from Saskatchewan, I would stand out as being from here. What defines the profile of a "local"? Apparently I don't fit the profile.
I'm going to assume I've assimilated a Hamilton accent and leave it at that. Otherwise I'm going to drive myself crazy trying to figure out why prairie people think that this prairie chicken isn't from here.
Tia
A few weeks ago at the CCMA's in Edmonton I was riding the elevator with this woman who I struck up a conversation with pretty much as soon as she got in the elevator. Within 30 seconds, she asked me if I was from Alberta. We continued to chat as we walked through the lobby and out onto the street where we went our separate ways. As I continued on my way, I began to analyze the conversation and found it interesting that she asked if I was from Alberta. She could have asked if I was from Edmonton, or generically asked where I was from, yet she chose that specific question. Did I not look like I was from Alberta, and if so, what constitutes looking like you're not from there? I grew up in Alberta, so it's not like I dress like I'm from Europe. Do I have an accent? It was one of those things that made me go hmmmmm.
Then on Saturday I was hosting a Songwriter's workshop in Regina. During intermission, I struck up a conversation with a gentleman who again, within a minute of us talking, asked if I was a "local". Again, this made me raise my eyebrows with amusement. Yes I was there with a handful of Toronto people as guests, but among them, you'd think being from Saskatchewan, I would stand out as being from here. What defines the profile of a "local"? Apparently I don't fit the profile.
I'm going to assume I've assimilated a Hamilton accent and leave it at that. Otherwise I'm going to drive myself crazy trying to figure out why prairie people think that this prairie chicken isn't from here.
Tia
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Mundane, Mundane
I just found myself singing the Mamas and the Papas with a Tia twist. Instead of Monday, Monday I changed the words to Mundane, Mundane. It fits perfectly, try it!
One of those moments of revelation today about just how much of a routine we get ourselves into on a daily basis. Every day I wake up at the same time, I shower in the same cleanse pattern everyday, I stop for coffee on my way to work, I get to work and have my routine before I go on air at 10, I get off air and same routine post air, then I take the same drive home and move onto my blah blah boring existence at night. I see the same people when I get coffee every morning...the guy in his Solstice who stands by his car so everyone can see how cool he is, yet he never seems to actually go in to the store. The construction guys who put 80,000 creams in their coffee and don't clean up after themselves. The long-haired dude who drives like an old man who I swear I get behind on the Pasqua every morning and he drives me crazy. I see the same people waiting for the bus with the same looks on their face everyday and the Tim Horton's drive thru line-up gets longer and longer everyday blocking traffic as per usual.
Is it the same for you? If so, why not change it up!? One day this week I'm going to shave my legs first when I get in the shower instead of washing my face. I'll take a different route to work and stop at a different 7-11 for my coffee and maybe even try decaf. This new route will avoid long-haired slow driver dude, no construction workers, and long faced people waiting for the bus. When I get to work, I'm going to sit in the lounge area and read the latest edition of Playgirl before I go on air. When I get off air, I'm going to go plant it in the men's washroom and then take videos of people coming out of the bathroom just to see the look on their face for my own amusement, and then everyone's else, because something like that surely has to go up on YouTube. And if I see some dude trying to be cool standing beside his Solstice, I'm going to go up to him and tell him "you're not as hot as you think you are".
Change it up people! Live life to the fullest, it'll be fun!
Tia
One of those moments of revelation today about just how much of a routine we get ourselves into on a daily basis. Every day I wake up at the same time, I shower in the same cleanse pattern everyday, I stop for coffee on my way to work, I get to work and have my routine before I go on air at 10, I get off air and same routine post air, then I take the same drive home and move onto my blah blah boring existence at night. I see the same people when I get coffee every morning...the guy in his Solstice who stands by his car so everyone can see how cool he is, yet he never seems to actually go in to the store. The construction guys who put 80,000 creams in their coffee and don't clean up after themselves. The long-haired dude who drives like an old man who I swear I get behind on the Pasqua every morning and he drives me crazy. I see the same people waiting for the bus with the same looks on their face everyday and the Tim Horton's drive thru line-up gets longer and longer everyday blocking traffic as per usual.
Is it the same for you? If so, why not change it up!? One day this week I'm going to shave my legs first when I get in the shower instead of washing my face. I'll take a different route to work and stop at a different 7-11 for my coffee and maybe even try decaf. This new route will avoid long-haired slow driver dude, no construction workers, and long faced people waiting for the bus. When I get to work, I'm going to sit in the lounge area and read the latest edition of Playgirl before I go on air. When I get off air, I'm going to go plant it in the men's washroom and then take videos of people coming out of the bathroom just to see the look on their face for my own amusement, and then everyone's else, because something like that surely has to go up on YouTube. And if I see some dude trying to be cool standing beside his Solstice, I'm going to go up to him and tell him "you're not as hot as you think you are".
Change it up people! Live life to the fullest, it'll be fun!
Tia
Monday, September 27, 2010
Tick Tick Tick
It's a good thing my mother isn't internet friendly, because she'd be disappointed in me for this blog. This is the mother who wants me to have kids so bad, she even told me to "just go get pregnant" and "you don't have to be married to have a baby Tia". My mother is pretty cool in a lot of ways, a little off-kilter in many ways too lol.
Ironically I was talking to someone the other day about the ticking of the clock. I'm closing in on 40 and that presents physical challenges in carrying a baby. My friend Kimmy had a baby at 36 and it was a difficult process. I'm not so good with pain, I'm not so good with doctors, and I don't enjoy the thought of a room full of people looking down the rabbit hole while I'm sweaty, in pain and pushing for 18 hours. Further to that, if I have a few beers and feel a little bloated, I start whining. Throw a baby in my tummy in the picture....yeah, I wouldn't want to be around me either.
It's not to say that I don't think about it. More and more I have thought about the possibility of adopting. I've established my career well enough that financially it would be feasible. But then I start wondering if I'm really ready for that kind of commitment. I like spending money on myself, I like sleeping in, I like being in quiet places, I like being in my pajamas all day, I like eating sandwiches and rarely have vegetables in the house, I like booking a plane ticket on Thursday and flying away for the weekend on Friday, I like drinking beer and I'm pretty good at it, and lastly, I like my life the way it is. Is it really the right time to throw a little bambino into that picture? Does the world really need another hippy child? I should re-phrase that - does the world really need a Tia hippy child?
I think the correct answer Alex is, Tia should wait a couple more years and ask these questions again. Ironically as I write this, Brad Paisley "Anything Like Me" is playing. Go figure!
Tia
Ironically I was talking to someone the other day about the ticking of the clock. I'm closing in on 40 and that presents physical challenges in carrying a baby. My friend Kimmy had a baby at 36 and it was a difficult process. I'm not so good with pain, I'm not so good with doctors, and I don't enjoy the thought of a room full of people looking down the rabbit hole while I'm sweaty, in pain and pushing for 18 hours. Further to that, if I have a few beers and feel a little bloated, I start whining. Throw a baby in my tummy in the picture....yeah, I wouldn't want to be around me either.
It's not to say that I don't think about it. More and more I have thought about the possibility of adopting. I've established my career well enough that financially it would be feasible. But then I start wondering if I'm really ready for that kind of commitment. I like spending money on myself, I like sleeping in, I like being in quiet places, I like being in my pajamas all day, I like eating sandwiches and rarely have vegetables in the house, I like booking a plane ticket on Thursday and flying away for the weekend on Friday, I like drinking beer and I'm pretty good at it, and lastly, I like my life the way it is. Is it really the right time to throw a little bambino into that picture? Does the world really need another hippy child? I should re-phrase that - does the world really need a Tia hippy child?
I think the correct answer Alex is, Tia should wait a couple more years and ask these questions again. Ironically as I write this, Brad Paisley "Anything Like Me" is playing. Go figure!
Tia
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Shake the 8 Ball
It was around this time two years ago that I went to see a psychic for the very first time. She was actually an interview subject for a feature writing project in my Public Relations class. In order for me to see that she was credible, she offered to do some readings on me.
Her predictions for my future would be that I was likely going to move to Winnipeg, and from there on to Hamilton, Toronto or Ottawa. She also saw me working in TV of some type. Her abilities also included something called psychometry, which would allow her to get a reading for a friend, relative, etc. All you had to do was have something they would have touched or held onto.
Cue the present day two years later and I'm not living in Winnipeg. I had never been to Winnipeg prior to the reading, but did go a few weeks later for the CCMA's. I'm grateful truthfully that this prediction didn't come true. Winnipeg isn't for everyone. Hamilton, well I have a friend who calls it Toronto's challenged sister, so it doesn't sound overly appealing. Ottawa, you have to be bi-lingual apparently to even get considered to work there, so non, je suis ne pas ici in Ottawa. I'd love to move to Toronto, but just can't seem to break the market for jobs, so it's not seemingly in my future either. As for the TV aspect of it, my orthodontist said he could see me doing TV, to which I told him I have too many freckles. He laughed and said that wasn't true. He's a very nice man.
I guess where I'm going with this is that none of her predictions for me have come even close to being true. Yet ironically, the prediction she made for the friend who's business card I gave her, came true within 6 months of the reading. I feel kind of gypped, but then I remember that she did the reading for free for the sake of my research for the paper. So who am I to complain? I'm just gonna buy an 8 ball and give'er a shake every time I want to know what the future holds.
Tia
Her predictions for my future would be that I was likely going to move to Winnipeg, and from there on to Hamilton, Toronto or Ottawa. She also saw me working in TV of some type. Her abilities also included something called psychometry, which would allow her to get a reading for a friend, relative, etc. All you had to do was have something they would have touched or held onto.
Cue the present day two years later and I'm not living in Winnipeg. I had never been to Winnipeg prior to the reading, but did go a few weeks later for the CCMA's. I'm grateful truthfully that this prediction didn't come true. Winnipeg isn't for everyone. Hamilton, well I have a friend who calls it Toronto's challenged sister, so it doesn't sound overly appealing. Ottawa, you have to be bi-lingual apparently to even get considered to work there, so non, je suis ne pas ici in Ottawa. I'd love to move to Toronto, but just can't seem to break the market for jobs, so it's not seemingly in my future either. As for the TV aspect of it, my orthodontist said he could see me doing TV, to which I told him I have too many freckles. He laughed and said that wasn't true. He's a very nice man.
I guess where I'm going with this is that none of her predictions for me have come even close to being true. Yet ironically, the prediction she made for the friend who's business card I gave her, came true within 6 months of the reading. I feel kind of gypped, but then I remember that she did the reading for free for the sake of my research for the paper. So who am I to complain? I'm just gonna buy an 8 ball and give'er a shake every time I want to know what the future holds.
Tia
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
There's an old joke: what are the similarities between a dentist and a gynecologist? They both look down big, dark holes....I know, horrible! I never said I made it up. This however is my joke: what are the similarities between a gynecologist and a hair stylist? You just get used to them doing things a certain way. Now I know that's not nearly as funny, or even the slightest bit funny at all, but it is true. Most women will tell you that if you find a hair stylist you like, don't ever lose them or move away!
My childhood was an array of Auntie Charlotte's home cuts and Toni perms. I truly am grateful no 'fro pictures have popped up yet on Facebook. Knock on wood. At the age of 17 when I flew into the adult world on my own, I started to enjoy the luxury of actual hair stylists. There was Shannon in Calgary, who when I moved to Peace River, I would bus 12 hours back to Cowtown to let her work her magic. When I moved to Lethbridge, I'd get back to Calgary to hit up Shannon whenever possible. Crossing the border over into Saskatchewan, I finally broke down to find a new stylist. I went to Carol for many years until I moved - again. The worst three years of my life living in Rosetown were blessed by Carrie's sheer touch. Being back in Regina, not gonna lie, I've played the field quite a bit! I think I've tried about 7 different stylists, of which only one really does work that makes me somewhat monogamous. Her name is Shelly, who originally comes from China. I've been told they give them names when they come to Canada. Which surprised me, because Shelly sounded so Chinese (I am being sarcastic). Truth be told, I've cheated on her a few times. But I always find myself going back. I just can't live with the guilt, and she is one of the few who gets how my cowlick works.
One of the worst people who I ever let cut my hair...me! Sometimes if I couldn't fork out the money for a cut (cuz you have some pretty lean times in radio), I'd just cut my own hair. At first it was just straight cutting it so it looked semi even all around. Then I got fancy smancy and started doing what I called "texturing". I remember going to Carol one time and her asking me who was the last person that cut my hair because they had butchered it. To which I sheepishly replied "me". After that, I'd forewarn her that I had been cutting my own hair again. She would just laugh and thank me for my honesty. Today, I only let the pros trim my tresses. Leave it to the professionals. I will say for the record, that it's been a LONG time since I've had a Toni perm.
Tia
My childhood was an array of Auntie Charlotte's home cuts and Toni perms. I truly am grateful no 'fro pictures have popped up yet on Facebook. Knock on wood. At the age of 17 when I flew into the adult world on my own, I started to enjoy the luxury of actual hair stylists. There was Shannon in Calgary, who when I moved to Peace River, I would bus 12 hours back to Cowtown to let her work her magic. When I moved to Lethbridge, I'd get back to Calgary to hit up Shannon whenever possible. Crossing the border over into Saskatchewan, I finally broke down to find a new stylist. I went to Carol for many years until I moved - again. The worst three years of my life living in Rosetown were blessed by Carrie's sheer touch. Being back in Regina, not gonna lie, I've played the field quite a bit! I think I've tried about 7 different stylists, of which only one really does work that makes me somewhat monogamous. Her name is Shelly, who originally comes from China. I've been told they give them names when they come to Canada. Which surprised me, because Shelly sounded so Chinese (I am being sarcastic). Truth be told, I've cheated on her a few times. But I always find myself going back. I just can't live with the guilt, and she is one of the few who gets how my cowlick works.
One of the worst people who I ever let cut my hair...me! Sometimes if I couldn't fork out the money for a cut (cuz you have some pretty lean times in radio), I'd just cut my own hair. At first it was just straight cutting it so it looked semi even all around. Then I got fancy smancy and started doing what I called "texturing". I remember going to Carol one time and her asking me who was the last person that cut my hair because they had butchered it. To which I sheepishly replied "me". After that, I'd forewarn her that I had been cutting my own hair again. She would just laugh and thank me for my honesty. Today, I only let the pros trim my tresses. Leave it to the professionals. I will say for the record, that it's been a LONG time since I've had a Toni perm.
Tia
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Disney's the Word Bird!
When I was a kid, I loved Sunday nights. We lived north of town with an abundant selection of maybe three channels on our farmer vision TV network. That was all we needed though, because among those 3 was CBC. That meant Hockey Night in Canada on Saturday nights and Walt Disney on Sunday nights.
Sundays were a tradition. We'd start supper at about 5 and if we were good, dad would let us eat in the living room and watch Disney, which as you probably remember, was on at six. It would be on till seven, then we'd clean up from supper, run a tub, have a bath, and go to bed for a new week of school.
Many times though, it didn't feel like only an hour of Disney was enough. It was captivating and magical and when it was done, I always wanted more. It didn't matter how many times I'd seen Fantasia, Alice in Wonderland, Bambi, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Cinderella or 101 Dalmations...I could watch them over and over again. To this day, Mary Poppins is still one of my favorites and who can forget the Siamese cats from Lady and the Tramp? And nothing against Johnny Depp, but Disney's "Adventures of Ichabod and Mr Toad" will always be the best take on the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Every Sunday around Halloween, I'd be glued to the TV for it. And how many times have you cried watching a Disney show or movie? Their knack of being able to touch on emotions has spanned from the era of Old Yeller all the way up to watching a little Simba turn into a Lion King. And something else that Disney afforded people, was the chance for parents and kids to watch and enjoy something together.
Not having kids, I'm not sure what they watch on Sunday nights nowadays. But knowing how much my nephews and niece like Mickey Mouse and anything with a princess in it, I feel like they're missing out on a great tradition because I'm sure they'd love six o'clock on Sunday nights just as much as I did. I guess TV's just not a magical place anymore.
Tia
Sundays were a tradition. We'd start supper at about 5 and if we were good, dad would let us eat in the living room and watch Disney, which as you probably remember, was on at six. It would be on till seven, then we'd clean up from supper, run a tub, have a bath, and go to bed for a new week of school.
Many times though, it didn't feel like only an hour of Disney was enough. It was captivating and magical and when it was done, I always wanted more. It didn't matter how many times I'd seen Fantasia, Alice in Wonderland, Bambi, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Cinderella or 101 Dalmations...I could watch them over and over again. To this day, Mary Poppins is still one of my favorites and who can forget the Siamese cats from Lady and the Tramp? And nothing against Johnny Depp, but Disney's "Adventures of Ichabod and Mr Toad" will always be the best take on the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Every Sunday around Halloween, I'd be glued to the TV for it. And how many times have you cried watching a Disney show or movie? Their knack of being able to touch on emotions has spanned from the era of Old Yeller all the way up to watching a little Simba turn into a Lion King. And something else that Disney afforded people, was the chance for parents and kids to watch and enjoy something together.
Not having kids, I'm not sure what they watch on Sunday nights nowadays. But knowing how much my nephews and niece like Mickey Mouse and anything with a princess in it, I feel like they're missing out on a great tradition because I'm sure they'd love six o'clock on Sunday nights just as much as I did. I guess TV's just not a magical place anymore.
Tia
Friday, September 17, 2010
Beiber Fever by Another Name
I'm as guilty as anyone for taking stabs at Justin Beiber and the mania that surrounds him. But I think everyone's had a Beiber in their lifetime, just by another name. Bubblegum pop is like bubble gum in general - it's got rubber in it that you can chew all you want, but it just keeps going. Bet you never thought I was such a skilled person at using metaphors huh?
When I was 15, my Justin Beiber was Tiffany and Debbie Gibson. I liked Tiffany better, she was the underdog and more of a commoner than Debbie. Debbie came from a well to do family from Long Island. One year, Tiffany was coming to do a concert in Edmonton. And being a huge fan, I knew that she was infamous for loving malls and shopping and we were going to the West Edmonton Mall on our weekend agenda. So as uncanny as it sounds, I took my autograph book in case we ran into her at the mall. What are the chances right? But as we're at the mall that day in Reitman's, I look over and there's this girl with blazing red hair and a brown leather jacket on, and sure enough, it was Tiffany! So naturally I freaked out on the spot a little, pulled out my autograph book and when over to talk to her. Much like those little girls that would be shakin' in their booties when they met Justin Beiber, I too was so excited I could have cried.
After Tiffany and Debbie Gibson, there was the New Kids on the Block, N'Sync, the Backstreet Boys, and so on. Admit it, you had your Justin Beiber too. Nothing but the hairstyles and fashion have changed. Bubblegum pop is bubblegum pop.
Tia
When I was 15, my Justin Beiber was Tiffany and Debbie Gibson. I liked Tiffany better, she was the underdog and more of a commoner than Debbie. Debbie came from a well to do family from Long Island. One year, Tiffany was coming to do a concert in Edmonton. And being a huge fan, I knew that she was infamous for loving malls and shopping and we were going to the West Edmonton Mall on our weekend agenda. So as uncanny as it sounds, I took my autograph book in case we ran into her at the mall. What are the chances right? But as we're at the mall that day in Reitman's, I look over and there's this girl with blazing red hair and a brown leather jacket on, and sure enough, it was Tiffany! So naturally I freaked out on the spot a little, pulled out my autograph book and when over to talk to her. Much like those little girls that would be shakin' in their booties when they met Justin Beiber, I too was so excited I could have cried.
After Tiffany and Debbie Gibson, there was the New Kids on the Block, N'Sync, the Backstreet Boys, and so on. Admit it, you had your Justin Beiber too. Nothing but the hairstyles and fashion have changed. Bubblegum pop is bubblegum pop.
Tia
Thursday, September 16, 2010
No Memory Lapses Here
I've been blessed with having a memory like a trap. I joke that it's semi-photographic, as I tend to forget things like paying bills, birthdays and how old I am. Other than that, there's not much that gets past me.
My friend Gayle is always amused that I remember our college days living in rez, or the days we roomed together in Calgary like it was yesterday. I have friends who I met years ago that I remember what they were wearing the first time we met. If you're ever drunk and around me, don't tell me stuff. Chances are I'll remember it even though you don't. And it's great ammunition for blackmail or just pushing your buttons in general.
Having a good memory is a blessing, but a double edged sword, because it's also a curse. You and I know there's things you'd like to be able to forget! Bad relationships, bad childhood, bad scenarios in general. And when you can't forget them, they sneak up on you when you least expect it and hit you with a big pang in your heart.
I'm not sure the science behind memory recall and some people being better at it than others. I do know however, that if you care about something or someone, you don't forget them or the reason those situations were important to you in the first place.
I don't eat fish, which they say improves memory, so it's not that. Must be all the cheese and Diet Coke.
Tia
My friend Gayle is always amused that I remember our college days living in rez, or the days we roomed together in Calgary like it was yesterday. I have friends who I met years ago that I remember what they were wearing the first time we met. If you're ever drunk and around me, don't tell me stuff. Chances are I'll remember it even though you don't. And it's great ammunition for blackmail or just pushing your buttons in general.
Having a good memory is a blessing, but a double edged sword, because it's also a curse. You and I know there's things you'd like to be able to forget! Bad relationships, bad childhood, bad scenarios in general. And when you can't forget them, they sneak up on you when you least expect it and hit you with a big pang in your heart.
I'm not sure the science behind memory recall and some people being better at it than others. I do know however, that if you care about something or someone, you don't forget them or the reason those situations were important to you in the first place.
I don't eat fish, which they say improves memory, so it's not that. Must be all the cheese and Diet Coke.
Tia
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Dream A Little Dream
Do you ever go through stretches of having bizarre dreams that are seemingly so real you wake up in the morning wondering what the hell?? Then you find yourself at work googling sites that boast all the knowledge of dream interpretation so you can get to the seed of this un-pretty flower.
I strongly suspect my dream last night had something to do with my quasi obsessive compulsive disorder. In the dream, I was living someplace (not sure if it was Regina or not), but for whatever reason, I decided to pack it up one day and move to Virginia. I actually used the words " I'm happy to be moving to a no winter place ". So I'm in the car, driving to Virginia, when I realize I have to turn around and go back. Why? Because I forgot to pack up my Tide and Downy and that just is unacceptable! Apparently my dream world didn't include the possibility of going to a Walmart in Virginia and buying laundry supplies there instead of driving all the way back to wherever I was at in the first place.
My dreams are also so vivid I can smell in them. Well, I don't mean I smell. I can smell smells in them, is that better? Once I had this dream that a friend of mine was really drunk, so I brought her to my house to crash for the night. As I'm taking her into the spare room, just inside the door, she leans over and vomits on the floor! I actually heaved in my dream from the smell of it! Not to mention that the vision of the contents of her stomach were clear as a bell. I've never eaten asparagus since then.
I can also testify to the non-validity of the urban legend that if you dream you die, you'll die. I once got shot in a church in my dreams. Anyone who knows me might find that statement alone mystifying, or perhaps even funny. But when the bullet hit me, I felt my stomach actually get hot from the dream blood and my eyes (although I was already asleep) started getting very heavy. Then I couldn't keep them open anymore, so I closed them and could feel myself drifting away from my body. Yes, in my dream I died. But as you've gathered, I'm still alive. Urban legend an epic FAIL!
Tonight I'm hoping to dream that I'm lying in a hammock, in flip flops, in the hot sun, with a little boy named Jamal twisting the tap and passing it around. Sweet dreams!
Tia
I strongly suspect my dream last night had something to do with my quasi obsessive compulsive disorder. In the dream, I was living someplace (not sure if it was Regina or not), but for whatever reason, I decided to pack it up one day and move to Virginia. I actually used the words " I'm happy to be moving to a no winter place ". So I'm in the car, driving to Virginia, when I realize I have to turn around and go back. Why? Because I forgot to pack up my Tide and Downy and that just is unacceptable! Apparently my dream world didn't include the possibility of going to a Walmart in Virginia and buying laundry supplies there instead of driving all the way back to wherever I was at in the first place.
My dreams are also so vivid I can smell in them. Well, I don't mean I smell. I can smell smells in them, is that better? Once I had this dream that a friend of mine was really drunk, so I brought her to my house to crash for the night. As I'm taking her into the spare room, just inside the door, she leans over and vomits on the floor! I actually heaved in my dream from the smell of it! Not to mention that the vision of the contents of her stomach were clear as a bell. I've never eaten asparagus since then.
I can also testify to the non-validity of the urban legend that if you dream you die, you'll die. I once got shot in a church in my dreams. Anyone who knows me might find that statement alone mystifying, or perhaps even funny. But when the bullet hit me, I felt my stomach actually get hot from the dream blood and my eyes (although I was already asleep) started getting very heavy. Then I couldn't keep them open anymore, so I closed them and could feel myself drifting away from my body. Yes, in my dream I died. But as you've gathered, I'm still alive. Urban legend an epic FAIL!
Tonight I'm hoping to dream that I'm lying in a hammock, in flip flops, in the hot sun, with a little boy named Jamal twisting the tap and passing it around. Sweet dreams!
Tia
Monday, September 13, 2010
Can you Schmooze?
This past weekend marked another eventful CCMA weekend. There are so many things to do in a matter of only a few days and so many people to try to fit into your agenda somewhere. Not always are you able to check everyone off your date book unfortunately.
Big industry events like this are also a huge schmooze fest, and for many artists and radio people, it can be a great investment in your future. Meet the right people, say the right things, impress enough people, and you suddenly open up all the right doors.
Don't think for a second though that everyone has the ability to be a good schmoozer. It's an innate talent that only some people can truly master. Because if you don't schmooze well, it can work against you in so many ways. Basically you come off as a kiss ass. And industry people, especially the higher ups, can smell a flake from a mile away. The old saying your first impression is your last impression is so true.
I was at an event on Friday night in this cramped little room, and it was truly like speed dating. One minute I'm standing there having a conversation with someone "new" who's just working on a new album, I turn 45 degrees to my right and suddenly I'm shaking hands with a radio station guy who's "success" story sounds too good to be true. Meanwhile, one of the guys I came with is across the room making googly eyes at me, because he knows all too well the schmoozer syndrome and how sometimes you just have to nod and smile. Then there's the anticipation factor of knowing what direction to turn next so that you don't get trapped in the Bermuda Triangle, when all you really want to do is get back to your true group of friends or find the food table with cheese. Not gonna lie, well actually I am sort of - but using your weak bladder to make frequent potty breaks will get you out of a lot of these situations in a hurry. But I will give them a token 5 minutes at least.
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want to meet new people. The secret to schmoozing is to just not try so hard. Just be natural. Don't force a conversation, don't seem too eager, ask lots of questions and not talk so much about yourself, seem genuinely interested in the other person and only give a business card if it's asked for. Do these things, and not only will you have walked away successful from the weekend, but chances are, you might have actually made some "real" friends in the industry who'll benefit you much better than just a "contact" will.
Tia
Big industry events like this are also a huge schmooze fest, and for many artists and radio people, it can be a great investment in your future. Meet the right people, say the right things, impress enough people, and you suddenly open up all the right doors.
Don't think for a second though that everyone has the ability to be a good schmoozer. It's an innate talent that only some people can truly master. Because if you don't schmooze well, it can work against you in so many ways. Basically you come off as a kiss ass. And industry people, especially the higher ups, can smell a flake from a mile away. The old saying your first impression is your last impression is so true.
I was at an event on Friday night in this cramped little room, and it was truly like speed dating. One minute I'm standing there having a conversation with someone "new" who's just working on a new album, I turn 45 degrees to my right and suddenly I'm shaking hands with a radio station guy who's "success" story sounds too good to be true. Meanwhile, one of the guys I came with is across the room making googly eyes at me, because he knows all too well the schmoozer syndrome and how sometimes you just have to nod and smile. Then there's the anticipation factor of knowing what direction to turn next so that you don't get trapped in the Bermuda Triangle, when all you really want to do is get back to your true group of friends or find the food table with cheese. Not gonna lie, well actually I am sort of - but using your weak bladder to make frequent potty breaks will get you out of a lot of these situations in a hurry. But I will give them a token 5 minutes at least.
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want to meet new people. The secret to schmoozing is to just not try so hard. Just be natural. Don't force a conversation, don't seem too eager, ask lots of questions and not talk so much about yourself, seem genuinely interested in the other person and only give a business card if it's asked for. Do these things, and not only will you have walked away successful from the weekend, but chances are, you might have actually made some "real" friends in the industry who'll benefit you much better than just a "contact" will.
Tia
Sunday, September 12, 2010
To Hug or Not to Hug
As some of you know, I'm not real big on hugging. You were either brought up in a hugging environment or you weren't, and I wasn't. For the most part I've learned to tolerate it, especially the last 2 or 3 years when it feels like there's been a hugging epidemic. I have a few friends from the east, and I've noticed they're chronic huggers. Give them an excuse to hug, and they're all over it!
This weekend at the CCMA's has been a hugfest. There's people you haven't seen for a year, sometimes maybe more. Next thing you know you're muttering " Oh, I guess we're hugging " and you're suddenly in full embrace. I've wondered lately on a scale of 10 what my hugging technique is, being such an amateur at it. When hugging the pros, they must think I'm a wet blanket.
Last night an interesting new twist to the story. I saw this girl from out east who is probably one of the most aggressive huggers I've ever encountered. So I expected the full court press hug, which I got. But then in the course of this hug, she also gave me a peck on the cheek! In my head I'm thinking "Did she really just do that?". It was a very European moment.
My growing concern is, is this the new trend? Hugs and pecks?? If it is, I'm going to have to get a sign to wear out in public that loudly proclaims " 3 feet of personal space please ". It's decided. Thanks CCMA's.
Tia
This weekend at the CCMA's has been a hugfest. There's people you haven't seen for a year, sometimes maybe more. Next thing you know you're muttering " Oh, I guess we're hugging " and you're suddenly in full embrace. I've wondered lately on a scale of 10 what my hugging technique is, being such an amateur at it. When hugging the pros, they must think I'm a wet blanket.
Last night an interesting new twist to the story. I saw this girl from out east who is probably one of the most aggressive huggers I've ever encountered. So I expected the full court press hug, which I got. But then in the course of this hug, she also gave me a peck on the cheek! In my head I'm thinking "Did she really just do that?". It was a very European moment.
My growing concern is, is this the new trend? Hugs and pecks?? If it is, I'm going to have to get a sign to wear out in public that loudly proclaims " 3 feet of personal space please ". It's decided. Thanks CCMA's.
Tia
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Donzo!
My 3 year relationship with my orthodontist ends today. Truthfully, it's been the most committed relationship I've ever been in and I'm taking a lot of knowledge away from it.
For starters, never get 4 teeth pulled at the same time. Doing so really doesn't leave you a good side to chew on. Just go with 2 at a time and do flights. I've learned from my jaw surgery that I have a high tolerance for pain and given the choice, I'd rather never get a catheter put in again in this lifetime. It's one thing to have a nurse who's good at putting them in, it's another thing to have a nurse who awkwardly takes three tries. I've learned that having your mouth wired shut and not being able to eat solid foods is a total inconvenience and no amount of chocolate Ensure will make you less miserable.
I've taken some positives away from this experience at the same time. I've become a master flosser who could weave in and out of my teeth in my sleep. I've quite enjoyed my road trips to Saskatoon, they're always good for clearing a person's head or singing along to your favorite songs at the top of your lungs and coming to work the next day with a hoarse voice because of it. And I've concluded that Davidson is a much better pee stop than Chamberlain is.
What was supposed to only be 2 years turned into 3 years, jaw surgery, about $8000, about 36 trips minimum to Saskatoon, and a retainer for life. I can only hope that when the tin hits the floor today, it's everything that I thought it was going to be for my new smile. A person would hate to be disappointed wouldn't they?
Tia
For starters, never get 4 teeth pulled at the same time. Doing so really doesn't leave you a good side to chew on. Just go with 2 at a time and do flights. I've learned from my jaw surgery that I have a high tolerance for pain and given the choice, I'd rather never get a catheter put in again in this lifetime. It's one thing to have a nurse who's good at putting them in, it's another thing to have a nurse who awkwardly takes three tries. I've learned that having your mouth wired shut and not being able to eat solid foods is a total inconvenience and no amount of chocolate Ensure will make you less miserable.
I've taken some positives away from this experience at the same time. I've become a master flosser who could weave in and out of my teeth in my sleep. I've quite enjoyed my road trips to Saskatoon, they're always good for clearing a person's head or singing along to your favorite songs at the top of your lungs and coming to work the next day with a hoarse voice because of it. And I've concluded that Davidson is a much better pee stop than Chamberlain is.
What was supposed to only be 2 years turned into 3 years, jaw surgery, about $8000, about 36 trips minimum to Saskatoon, and a retainer for life. I can only hope that when the tin hits the floor today, it's everything that I thought it was going to be for my new smile. A person would hate to be disappointed wouldn't they?
Tia
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Open for Interpretation
Thanks to Marli and Krista for their suggestions for this latest blog. Krista, I will write about Toronto adventures or the CCMA's down the road. There are a few people who may be in those stories who I'll perhaps see in Edmonton this weekend who might punch me in the face if they read something prior to then. Once they're gone and I don't have to see them for a few months or more, it's on!
I will however go down the path Marli suggested, in an off-handed way. She suggested pick a favorite song and talk about what it means to me. I was thinking instead though, of things that meant one thing to you when you were a kid, but when you grew up to form your own interpretations of words, they meant something entirely different.
Let's start with Elvis. When I was 5, the King's Gold album got a million spins on our record player. I knew every song and every word. Hound-dog was probably my favorite. When I was that age, it was about a dog who ain't never caught a rabbit and was barkin' all the time. But now, my take on the song is that it's about a mouthy nag who doesn't come close to walkin' the talk and isn't worth a second look.
Another one of my favorite songs when I was very young was "The Joker" by Steve Miller. I thought it was about a guy who was funny, although I always wondered what exactly a midnight toker was. Well, now I know. The song definitely meant something different after that!
What else? Let's face it, "Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood is not about being mellow and stress free as first perceived when younger. Cyndi Lauper's "She Bop" was a fun, let's be happy song as a kid. As an adult I empathize with her challenge to get anything to rhyme with masturbation. And perhaps the master of all innuendo was one of my favorite movies and soundtracks, that being Grease. When I was a kid, it was about the music and Danny & Sandy making such a cute couple. Between you and me, listen to the words of the song "Grease Lightenin" and you'll feel dirty and perhaps slightly turned on! Grease by the way, why I often use the moniker Sinwagon...which Natalie Maines was also inspired by for their song of the same name. Flash back to that scene when Danny & Sandy were in his car at the drive in and he was trying to make his moves.
Perhaps some mindless dribble you don't give two hoots about. But it may make you listen to the words of a song a lot more closely now. Mission accomplished!
Tia
I will however go down the path Marli suggested, in an off-handed way. She suggested pick a favorite song and talk about what it means to me. I was thinking instead though, of things that meant one thing to you when you were a kid, but when you grew up to form your own interpretations of words, they meant something entirely different.
Let's start with Elvis. When I was 5, the King's Gold album got a million spins on our record player. I knew every song and every word. Hound-dog was probably my favorite. When I was that age, it was about a dog who ain't never caught a rabbit and was barkin' all the time. But now, my take on the song is that it's about a mouthy nag who doesn't come close to walkin' the talk and isn't worth a second look.
Another one of my favorite songs when I was very young was "The Joker" by Steve Miller. I thought it was about a guy who was funny, although I always wondered what exactly a midnight toker was. Well, now I know. The song definitely meant something different after that!
What else? Let's face it, "Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood is not about being mellow and stress free as first perceived when younger. Cyndi Lauper's "She Bop" was a fun, let's be happy song as a kid. As an adult I empathize with her challenge to get anything to rhyme with masturbation. And perhaps the master of all innuendo was one of my favorite movies and soundtracks, that being Grease. When I was a kid, it was about the music and Danny & Sandy making such a cute couple. Between you and me, listen to the words of the song "Grease Lightenin" and you'll feel dirty and perhaps slightly turned on! Grease by the way, why I often use the moniker Sinwagon...which Natalie Maines was also inspired by for their song of the same name. Flash back to that scene when Danny & Sandy were in his car at the drive in and he was trying to make his moves.
Perhaps some mindless dribble you don't give two hoots about. But it may make you listen to the words of a song a lot more closely now. Mission accomplished!
Tia
Sunday, September 5, 2010
To Stick It or Not to Stick It
Yesterday afternoon I came down with a nasty migraine and decided to go for a walk to clear my head of it. I pulled into this big empty parking lot by the trail I like to mosey down and there was this silver Honda doing circles and then parking and then doing more circles and I was like, WTF? I sat in my car and ate my delicious 7-11 Hot Dog before setting out on my walk, and it occurred to while observing this car jerk in motion every now and then, that the guy was trying to teach the girl how to drive a standard. I went for my walk and when I got back, they were still doing circles. Finally, she had enough courage and practise to actually pull out onto a real street and give it a whirl.
I certainly can empathize with this young lady. When I was working my first radio job up in Peace River, I didn't have a car. I started the process of looking to buy one, but didn't have enough clout on my own, so the sweet elderly couple who's basement I lived in, co-signed a car loan for me. I bussed it down to Calgary and bought my first car - a green dodge shadow, which was also a standard. I don't know why I bought a stick, I had never really driven one before! So here I am on a Friday afternoon, driving a standard for the first time, on McLeod Trail during rush hour, stalling and starting and embarrassing myself to the maximum. You can imagine my sigh of relief when I made it out of city limits and was on the open highway back to Peace River.
To this day, I've never owned an automatic and would never look at buying a vehicle that's not a standard. Truthfully, that's in part why I went away from GM vehicles. They don't make many anymore that aren't automatic in their line of products. So I guess from now on I'll stick to the German das Autos or go over to the Japanese, should they ever stop recalling their cars BURN!
Tia
I certainly can empathize with this young lady. When I was working my first radio job up in Peace River, I didn't have a car. I started the process of looking to buy one, but didn't have enough clout on my own, so the sweet elderly couple who's basement I lived in, co-signed a car loan for me. I bussed it down to Calgary and bought my first car - a green dodge shadow, which was also a standard. I don't know why I bought a stick, I had never really driven one before! So here I am on a Friday afternoon, driving a standard for the first time, on McLeod Trail during rush hour, stalling and starting and embarrassing myself to the maximum. You can imagine my sigh of relief when I made it out of city limits and was on the open highway back to Peace River.
To this day, I've never owned an automatic and would never look at buying a vehicle that's not a standard. Truthfully, that's in part why I went away from GM vehicles. They don't make many anymore that aren't automatic in their line of products. So I guess from now on I'll stick to the German das Autos or go over to the Japanese, should they ever stop recalling their cars BURN!
Tia
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Debbie Boone
At this time next week, I'll likely be suffering from a hangover in Edmonton for the CCMA's. Although I'm not a music director these days, I still spend my own money to go out to support my music friends and colleagues on their big weekend. And it really is one of the few weekends we music types all get to see each other in the same place at least once a year. It's like a country Christmas, minus the mistletoe. Happy CCMA'stivus! Hmmm, that sounds like it needs an itch cream prescribed by a doctor. I should rethink that.
Even though I grew up near Edmonton, I haven't really spent a lot of time there. I did live there briefly when I was a kid, after my parents had split up. My mom was renting a basement suite that had the old radiator heaters you often find in buildings built pre-40's.
I was maybe 5, but my memory can recall two things like it was yesterday. One was the heating system. The guy who lived in the suite above us controlled the temperature and it would often get quite chilly in the basement. So my mom would let him know when she required the heat turned up. This involved her grabbing the heaviest cast iron pan we had and banging it quite frequently on the rads! It was quite funny and confusing to watch, but it worked! Dude upstairs understood.
The other thing I very fondly remember was the musical era. My mom had this radio that was always on, and the song that was playing over and over that year - Debbie Boone "You Light Up My Life". Radio station playlists didn't function much differently in those days either. Big songs still played every 3 hours at least.
The moral of my story today: When you think of Edmonton, think cast iron pans and Debbie Boone. I do!
Tia
Even though I grew up near Edmonton, I haven't really spent a lot of time there. I did live there briefly when I was a kid, after my parents had split up. My mom was renting a basement suite that had the old radiator heaters you often find in buildings built pre-40's.
I was maybe 5, but my memory can recall two things like it was yesterday. One was the heating system. The guy who lived in the suite above us controlled the temperature and it would often get quite chilly in the basement. So my mom would let him know when she required the heat turned up. This involved her grabbing the heaviest cast iron pan we had and banging it quite frequently on the rads! It was quite funny and confusing to watch, but it worked! Dude upstairs understood.
The other thing I very fondly remember was the musical era. My mom had this radio that was always on, and the song that was playing over and over that year - Debbie Boone "You Light Up My Life". Radio station playlists didn't function much differently in those days either. Big songs still played every 3 hours at least.
The moral of my story today: When you think of Edmonton, think cast iron pans and Debbie Boone. I do!
Tia
Friday, September 3, 2010
Drift Away
There's something about fall-like weather that sets me adrift on memory bliss. Today I was thinking about Denise Kuhn. Denise was one of my best friends, who moved away when I was in grade 6. I remember being crushed because I was losing my buddy. We were fortunate however to keep in touch through our school years, and I was so excited that she came to my graduation. I remember sitting out in that farm yard with her at my grad party, under the light, in the cold, catching up for hours.
When I moved away to Calgary to start my adult life, we lost touch. She had a baby at a young age and I was trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. One night when I was living with my Aunt Donna in Calgary, the phone rang, and it was Denise. She had called my dad to find out where I was and got my number. I was sitting in a dark room, at the kitchen table, catching up with my little buddy. She was coping with having a little baby and I was finding that the real world was not an easy one. Over the years she sent me pictures of her family, but eventually we lost touch again, with me moving all over the place.
Many times I wondered what happened to Denise Kuhn after that. Then along came Facebook and I found her. She's all grown up and the little girl she had when we were still in our teens is all grown up. And it makes me smile and still think of us when we were kids and life was so much simpler.
The moral of today's story: I don't forget anything about my friends, so blackmail is very easily accomplished.
Tia
When I moved away to Calgary to start my adult life, we lost touch. She had a baby at a young age and I was trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. One night when I was living with my Aunt Donna in Calgary, the phone rang, and it was Denise. She had called my dad to find out where I was and got my number. I was sitting in a dark room, at the kitchen table, catching up with my little buddy. She was coping with having a little baby and I was finding that the real world was not an easy one. Over the years she sent me pictures of her family, but eventually we lost touch again, with me moving all over the place.
Many times I wondered what happened to Denise Kuhn after that. Then along came Facebook and I found her. She's all grown up and the little girl she had when we were still in our teens is all grown up. And it makes me smile and still think of us when we were kids and life was so much simpler.
The moral of today's story: I don't forget anything about my friends, so blackmail is very easily accomplished.
Tia
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Fleeting Moments
It was a sad week last week as we said goodbye to Tyler Veronelly, who is now known as Tyler Hall on AMP in Calgary. Yes, I did break out in tears at his going away, because as I said that night, I don't have a little brother, but felt like Tyler was my little bro for the last 2 1/2 years.
He's been gone for exactly a week now (but who's keeping count!). I've been doing ok and I think we're settling in a little bit to all the changes. But today, one of those fleeting moments where it hit me he and Paul were both gone. I had a funny that only him and Paul would appreciate and had no one to go tell it too! Picture me looking lost and confused with my hands in the air wanting to talk to someone and then pouting.
The moral of this story today: I need to get a new little brother. Or find someone else who'll get all our inside jokes. Or get a pool boy...but I don't have a pool so...
I'll just pout!
Tia
He's been gone for exactly a week now (but who's keeping count!). I've been doing ok and I think we're settling in a little bit to all the changes. But today, one of those fleeting moments where it hit me he and Paul were both gone. I had a funny that only him and Paul would appreciate and had no one to go tell it too! Picture me looking lost and confused with my hands in the air wanting to talk to someone and then pouting.
The moral of this story today: I need to get a new little brother. Or find someone else who'll get all our inside jokes. Or get a pool boy...but I don't have a pool so...
I'll just pout!
Tia
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The First of Many
Just Because I Can
First of all, I'd like to thank my friend Krista, who inspired me to blog after reading hers. I likely won't however, be as eloquent as her. Cuz I'm a bad ass like that :)
As you already know, I'm pretty fervent in several forms of Social Media. I think I just made a word up. Fervent, where did that come from and is it really a word? It is now. Anywho...I blog on my station website, I'm a Facebook maniac and my webisodes are becoming world renowned (where is the sarcasm button on here?). I've often said to people that there's Tia Daniels, and then there's Tia, and they really are two different people. And I hope to utilize this blog as a way to be more Tia and less Tia Daniels, if that makes sense.
So how has your week been so far? Mine, well, a lesson in how unfair life can be sometimes. All I can say is that Isabelle is pretty cool for a French chick, even though she thinks Winnipeg is colder in the winter than Regina is. Little does she know! But I gained two pieces of knowledge over the last few days about myself. One was that I used to be a person who was too nice and would let people get away with things for the sake of not wanting to upset the balance of the world. But this week, at the age of 38, I stood up for myself and it felt good. And I hope some good comes out of it, because I handled it way too diplomatically for it not to.
What else did I learn? As someone who doesn't like hugging, I let 3 different people hug me in one day. It was like Woodstock without the magic brownies. But what I walked away from this hugfest with is that you can hug someone and accomplish your mission. But if you hug someone and say something really sweet to them, it's like you just handed them a cheque for a million dollars. Robyn taught me that, and I don't think she even knows it. Not to mention she probably gave me shingles in the process, but I'll forgive her.
The morale of the story here folks is: Don't mess with the Zohan. Or you'll wind up with E'ffed up hair.
Tia
As you already know, I'm pretty fervent in several forms of Social Media. I think I just made a word up. Fervent, where did that come from and is it really a word? It is now. Anywho...I blog on my station website, I'm a Facebook maniac and my webisodes are becoming world renowned (where is the sarcasm button on here?). I've often said to people that there's Tia Daniels, and then there's Tia, and they really are two different people. And I hope to utilize this blog as a way to be more Tia and less Tia Daniels, if that makes sense.
So how has your week been so far? Mine, well, a lesson in how unfair life can be sometimes. All I can say is that Isabelle is pretty cool for a French chick, even though she thinks Winnipeg is colder in the winter than Regina is. Little does she know! But I gained two pieces of knowledge over the last few days about myself. One was that I used to be a person who was too nice and would let people get away with things for the sake of not wanting to upset the balance of the world. But this week, at the age of 38, I stood up for myself and it felt good. And I hope some good comes out of it, because I handled it way too diplomatically for it not to.
What else did I learn? As someone who doesn't like hugging, I let 3 different people hug me in one day. It was like Woodstock without the magic brownies. But what I walked away from this hugfest with is that you can hug someone and accomplish your mission. But if you hug someone and say something really sweet to them, it's like you just handed them a cheque for a million dollars. Robyn taught me that, and I don't think she even knows it. Not to mention she probably gave me shingles in the process, but I'll forgive her.
The morale of the story here folks is: Don't mess with the Zohan. Or you'll wind up with E'ffed up hair.
Tia
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