Archive for the Life in General Category

‘Kay Love You Bye.

Posted in Life in General on February 15, 2011 by hairbykatierose

I don’t hate Valentines Day. (Mum always told me that hate is a strong word.) But for someone who’s blissfully married, I sure don’t care much for the Hallmark Holiday either.

I started thinking about the word LOVE when I was on the bus today, bound for my husband’s office. I called him briefly to tell him I was on my way and concluded the call with a sloppy, “‘Kay, loveyoubye” that rolled off my tongue so rapidly it could have been a foreign language. “Wow.” I said aloud, “that was the worst I love you ever.” the lady beside me with the pink Uggs chuckled. But really…

And then I thought about what day it is, and what I had to say about saying ‘I love you’ and thought it called for a spontaneous and relevant blog post. “You cold bitch.” I hear you muttering, “you really don’t care if you’re blogging on Valentines when you should be spending quality time with your mister man!” and now you’re imagining The Bradford as a poor, misunderstood victim… “He wears his beard so bravely!” You”ll say at the water cooler as you shake your head.

(For the record, he just finished making us a delicious dinner of hotdogs and chips and now I’m ‘letting’ him watch the last period of the hockey game.)

I am fortunate to belong to a  family that uses the L word frequently. In fact, when he learned what it meant as a chatty little three year old, my older brother over-used it to such an extent that my mum was nearly driven to knock the I Love You right out of him. Just kidding. Actually I’m not.

The first boy I ever said it to was a drummer in a band. A lanky eleventh grader from a different high school who’s best friend had a car and drove us everywhere. (Thanks, Curtis.) I used to time the length of our basement make-out sessions by how many half hour sitcoms had gone by. I was still a good little Christian girl back then and thankfully the Bible never said anything about dry-humping. Still, that poor boy must have had balls as blue as Katy Perry’s wig. He loved me though. He said it first and I said it back. We said it back and forth and back and forth. We didn’t even feel like dry-humping. We just wanted to say I Love You. Beautiful, right? I know.

There may have been a couple of love-worthy boys between Drummer Boy and the Bradford but there were also a few duds. By the time Christopher said it to me, I was so accustomed to men that didn’t express their emotions that being with someone who did seemed strange and uncomfortable. I’ll never live down the time on the bus when I asked him to stop saying it so much.

And now, we say it every day. Sometimes once, but often more. Do some disappear down the phone as an unthought ritual? Does one of us sometimes reply, “I love you, too, babes” when the other was actually speaking to the cats? Yup. That happens too.

But the important thing is that we mean it. And we remind each other every day. And because we’re comfortable saying it to each other, it’s easier to say to others. To our families, our friends and yes, to the cats.

So now, I’ll wind down. After all, it is Valentines. And I don’t hate it, remember? But I don’t love it either. Do you know what I love? My husband. And I’ll tell him that any bloody day I like.

‘Kay Love You, Bye.

Posted in Life in General on January 25, 2011 by hairbykatierose

I don’t hate Valentines Day. (Mum always told me that hate is a strong word.) But for someone who’s blissfully married, I sure don’t care much for the Hallmark Holiday either.

I started thinking about the word LOVE when I was on the bus today, bound for my husband’s office. I called him briefly to tell him I was on my way and concluded the call with a sloppy, “‘Kay, loveyoubye” that rolled off my tongue so rapidly it could have been a foreign language. “Wow.” I said aloud, “that was the worst I love you ever.” the lady beside me with the pink Uggs chuckled. But really…

And then I thought about what day it is, and what I had to say about saying ‘I love you’ and thought it called for a spontaneous and relevant blog post. “You cold bitch.” I hear you muttering, “you really don’t care if you’re blogging on Valentines when you should be spending quality time with your mister man!” and now you’re imagining The Bradford as a poor, misunderstood victim… “He wears his beard so bravely!” You”ll say at the water cooler as you shake your head.

(For the record, he just finished making us a delicious dinner of hotdogs and chips and now I’m ‘letting’ him watch the last period of the hockey game.)

I am fortunate to belong to a family that uses the L word frequently. In fact, when he learned what it meant as a chatty little three year old, my older brother over-used it to such an extent that my mum was nearly driven to knock the I Love You right out of him. Just kidding. Actually I’m not.

The first boy I ever said it to was a drummer in a band. A lanky eleventh grader from a different high school who’s best friend had a car and drove us everywhere. (Thanks, Curtis.) I used to time the length of our basement make-out sessions by how many half hour sitcoms had gone by. I was still a good little Christian girl back then and thankfully the Bible never said anything about dry-humping. Still, that poor boy must have had balls as blue as Katy Perry’s wig. He loved me though. He said it first and I said it back. We said it back and forth and back and forth. We didn’t even feel like dry-humping. We just wanted to say I Love You. Beautiful, right? I know.

There may have been a couple of love-worthy boys between Drummer Boy and the Bradford but there were also a few duds. By the time Christopher said it to me, I was so accustomed to men that didn’t express their emotions that being with someone who did seemed strange and uncomfortable. I’ll never live down the time on the bus when I asked him to stop saying it so much.

And now, we say it every day. Sometimes once, but often more. Do some disappear down the phone as an unthought ritual? Does one of us sometimes reply, “I love you, too, babes” when the other was actually speaking to the cats? Yup. That happens too.

But the important thing is that we mean it. And we remind each other every day. And because we’re comfortable saying it to each other, it’s easier to say to others. To our families, our friends and yes, to the cats.

So now, I’ll wind down. After all, it is Valentines. And I don’t hate it, remember? But I don’t love it either. Do you know what I love? My husband. And I’ll tell him that any bloody day I like.

Hello. I am 30.

Posted in Life in General on September 26, 2010 by hairbykatierose

I’ll tell you about my birthday tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. I mean, it’s not like I have to.

So long 29 and thank-you for the memories.

Posted in Life in General on September 25, 2010 by hairbykatierose

Tomorrow September 25th 2010, at around lunchtime, I will have been on this fine earth for thirty years.  I’ve never turned thirty before.  Well, not in this lifetime anyway.  I don’t have solid proof that I lived to thirty in my past lives, just a strong hunch. I can be wise sometimes. And when I look deep into Frank’s eyes, he knows what I’m thinking.

It’s hard to believe that after tomorrow I will A. definitely not look my age and B. no longer be tied to a nightly blog.  I’m a little sad about the latter.  And a little excited.  I vowed 30 days ago to blog every day until my birthday, and I’ve remained true to my word. It’s been tough at times when I’ve been utterly exhausted, or under the influence… or both. And let’s not even start on my sex life.  But there’s something comforting about flipping open the ‘puter and having a site always remember my password. And I’ve become a little obsessed with checking my stats. I still might do that every night.

So, on the birthday note, and because of my love of lists (Did you know that about me? It verges on the obsessive.) I’ve decided to document this past year’s ‘firsts’. In list form. Of course.

KATIE-ROSE’S LIST OF FIRSTS DONE IN THE YEAR 2009/2010 AND BEFORE HER 30TH BIRTHDAY:

1. First time to get married (and the last, if I have anything to do with it). The next time I spend 10k in one day I better be putting a deposit on a condo.

2. First time to get a kitten WITH somebody. We already had Frank, but he was like Maddox. Brian’s more like the Shiloh of our family. Except he actually is a boy and doesn’t just look like one. And I don’t look like my arms might break at any second.

3. First time to enroll in post-secondary education. I hate being in debt. Unfortunately, you gotta pay to learn stuff. I know. Bullshit.

4. First married Christmas/First non-Christmas. We traded in presents and Turkey for sushi and a ride along the seawall. Tranquil, liberating and above all else, cheap.

5. First time to watch through a window as my beloved cat was cut open on an operating table.

6. First time to max my Visa on a vet bill without a second thought.

7. First time to think I was actually going to lose Frank.

8. First time to realise just how much he meant to me when I didn’t.

9. First 1st Year Wedding Anniversary. It’s fun, this marriage malarkey. I recommend it.

10. First time to the Okanagan…

11. First time to swim in a lake, over my head, at times without a noodle and without drowning. (I’m not a swimmer. In fact, the Doctor said the medical term for me is Sinker. I get it from my dad. It has something to do with our bone density, which may have something to do with our African roots which might also explain the stereotype that a lot of black people can’t swim.) I’m allowed to say that in a blog right? And because I’m 1/16 black?

12. First time to do #11 naked. Yes, that’s right. I’d never been skinny dipping until this summer. Don’t make me explain the whole ‘Sinker’ thing again.

13. First time to go tubing behind a boat, on that lake in the Okanagan (clothed, this time).

14. First time to think I pooped myself while tubing.  I didn’t. Hopefully that will never be a first.

15. First time to compete in a hair competition, and first time to place in the Semi-finals.

16. First time to do hair for a fashion show (and definitely not the last…)

17. First time to see my dad with hair (and not a skin-head) in over eight years. He no longer looks like Ghandi.  Or an assassin.  And his foreheads a bit bigger than the last time he had hair.  But he looks quite sweet.

Thankfully my obsession with lists has nothing to do with the number of things on said list being a nice, round, even number. I think my obsession lies in my desire to complete and check off every item as soon as possible, which makes this list pretty much perfect.  Everything on this list? I’ve completed it! It means that here, tonight, for now, my work is done.

Good night world. When I wake up I will be thirty.

Seriously (Cool-Hwhip)

Posted in Life in General on September 21, 2010 by hairbykatierose

Bear with me, kids.  It’s five days until my birthday, which means five days left of nightly blogging, which means I’ve been doing this for twenty-five days straight. Which means I’ll have completed my challenge by this weekend. Holy moly.

My graduation hair show is tomorrow. I spent a day running around going last minute bits and bobs with my girl Toni who was an amazing help. Then we got all Martha Stewart and that’s all I can say about that. I wouldn’t dare give away the theme of the party! Instead, enjoy this Family Guy clip… I never get sick of this shit. Seriously.

Drops of Poopiter

Posted in Life in General on September 19, 2010 by hairbykatierose

Tonight I took my best friend to see Train at the Commodore. Those who know me may have just raised an eyebrow. Train’s not really my scene.  But at one point they epitomized a certain era for me, and the makings of a pretty awesome friendship.

I met Lorna in 1999 on my first day of work at Le Chateau. She was standing on a ladder, which made her seem even taller, and wore a green paisley skirt, horn-rimmed glasses and a short, red, punky hairdo.  I was a mainstream mall girl, with hoop earrings, long curly hair, and brown lip-liner.

Lorna and I became fast friends over my first Christmas at Le Chateau.  She taught me the words to Feed The World (Do They Know it’s Christmas) as we walked home from work. She was a massive music buff. I’d still put money on her in any music quiz (although my sister-in-law Gemma might give her a run for her money.)

Lorna had a car named Nelson, and we’d drive around as she blasted her mix tapes and smoked cigarettes. Second hand smoke didn’t infuriate me back then. Lorna had tattoos and drank like a boy, and as much as she loved music, it didn’t stop us from trawling through her CD collection when it came time to pawn music for beer. We’d go out dancing and mouth the words to all the songs. When creepy boys approached me, she had my back (even if it meant her getting abused in the process.) I couldn’t fight my own battles back then.  That didn’t happen until I moved to England.

Lorna inspired a number of ‘firsts’. First trip to Whistler, first time I smoked pot, first time to purchase a battery operated ‘boy-friend’, and the first time we heart Drops of Jupiter by Train? Well, we loved it. We sat in Nelson and played and rewound and played and rewound until we’d figured out each lyric and had written it out on a scrap piece of paper. It was our song.

Lorna and I haven’t always been together. We relied on snail mail and the odd phone call when I was in the UK. When we moved back to Victoria, she moved to Vancouver. And then last year, I moved to Vancouver too and we were finally in the same city!

Things have changed a little though… Nelson (RIP) has been replaced by a monster of a Pathfinder, and a gorgeous little boy called Parker has taken the place of weekend beers. The mix tapes? Well, they’re on CD now.  I started my tattoo collection and when I had as many as Lorna, I  just kept going.  Who knew I’d live to see the day where I would out-weird Lorna in the style-stakes?

It doesn’t matter who has the short red hair now. We haven’t really changed all that much.  Lorna is still the crazy, caring, generous girl from 1999. And Drops of Jupiter is still our song.

Vlogs, Blogs and now a FLOG!

Posted in Life in General on September 16, 2010 by hairbykatierose

Tonight we’re blogging on location. Not that I’m not usually located somewhere, but tonight I’m somewhere different.  Christopher and I have popped next door to have a late night cuppa with my older brother, Dylan, and his wifey Jessica.  Dylan and I got to reminiscing about weird shit we did when we were younger, which led me to finally decide on tonight’s blog post. Because, believe it or not, I ain’t always full of amazing ideas.

Tonight, I’m gonna tell you three things about me as a little girl. Two of them will be true. One of them will be a lie. You have to figure out which is the flog post (Dylan’s word for a blog that is fictional. Clever, huh?) Anyone who leaves a comment with the correct answer will be entered into a draw to win the blemish-prone cleanser from my Teen Pack. (See two blog posts back) Only comment once. And mum, you’re not allowed to participate. Sorry!

Story 1:

I was so candy deprived as a child that I used to peel blackened gum off the cement of the parking lot next to my house and chew what minty goodness was left. Usually, not much.

Story 2:

I had an imaginary friend named Maria Blennis. She had a husband named Mike, a son named Michael and was kind of fucked up. She used to can food. Her specialties included crushed up bugs and chewed banana.

Story 3:

I used to pick my nose in bed and wipe my treasure on the wall. I had a bedside bogey collection. Mum was not impressed. Those lil guys are a bitch to get off once they dry.

I look forward to your insightful comments. Please try not to judge me.