Why we should try to see the good

Once a week I take my client to the university my husband works at. On that day my husband and I take the bus together. One particular morning this week however, things got…well…gross.

It started with an adorable British mother and son clammoring onto the bus. They looked sweaty and frazzled. The boy looked concerned and adorable in his owl hat.


The mother was gently cooing at her son, holding him and reading him a story as the bus moved along. I thought it was so wonderful to see.


They were sitting amongst a group of young girls, going over notes, listening to music. Then suddenly, the boy began to squirm.And the words that no one likes to hear coming from a child (especially when you are squished on an over-full bus)






Then I saw it. The panic in everyone’s eyes as they realized they had a very sick boy sitting with them.


The Mother was trying to calm him down, but it was clear this kid was not okay. He started grabbing his stomach and crying. And then the mother did something that I think sealed their doom.

She cupped her hand beneath the young boy’s mouth like a bowl.



I remember thinking in my mind at that exact moment: “No, bad idea. You’ve just given him a makeshift bowl. He is not going to hold back.”

And he didn’t.



And like something out of a movie, it didn’t stop. He just kept barfing and barfing. My husband and I just kept watching in utter shock at what was happening.


And while everyone else on the bus just sat in mute shock, it was the young girls (the type that social media like to pretend only cares about selfies, boys and clothes) jumped into action.

With no ounce of disgust or anger, theses young ladies started handing the mother napkins from their bags, trying to clean the mess off the boy’s shirt and floor.

They were so calm and collected. They didn’t make a bad situation worse. They didn’t scream theatrically or yell. They just wanted to help out a fellow human being.


The mother thanked them profusely, thanking them for being so kind. They just laughed off the situation and did what they could to help.

The saddest part of the trip was when the boy and his mother got off at the next stop and the boy, covered in puke, looks up at his mom with the saddest, biggest eyes and spoke in the most adorable British accent.


Girls, wherever you are, that was really nice to see.


The point of this story is that we tend to focus on the wrongs in life. What people suck at. When people disappoint us. So instead I like to share stories like this- stories where people are unexpected. Where kindness flows so easily.

Try to see the good in people.



Why budgeting is important… but definitely not fun.

Money and budgeting and I have never been on great terms.


Budgeting and my husband however? The best of friends.

My relationship with money had always been a precarious one. Either I was reckless and ridiculous or hyper sensitive to the thought of owing money I didn’t have. Money was to be spent and sort of saved if there was nothing good at the mall or online.



Money and Budgeting and I finally formally met when I got married to my saint of a husband. When my first student loan payment was demanded from me. And suddenly all the days of carefree spending were finished.


We had bought a home. We had a mortgage. I had student loan payments and now with our combined homes we had two cars, two insurance payments to pay each month. And suddenly after mapping out my monthly budget, my extra frivolities went out the window. And this hurt.



We had grown up money responsibilities. And my attitude to money was fairly juvenile.


I had a really negative relationship with it. I was miserable. I hated that I had to budget. I bemoaned the fact that I wasn’t rich. I would cry out, “BUT I WOULD BE THE BEST RICH PERSON! I WOULD GIVE A BUNCH OF MY MONEY AWAY!” as if that were justification for all my wreck less spending desires.
The other realization was that I was going to have to start saving for my future. At 24 you think you’ll live forever. Putting away money that you won’t be touching until you are old? BIZARRE. But also terrifying to think of what would happen if I didn’t!


But as the years passed and I started learning to budget and then seeing the rewards like yearly tropical vacations and being able to help people out financially and more I was amazed at this feeling I had. This feeling of…accomplishment and pride. Suddenly I didn’t want to burn through our money.





Needless to say my budget-loving husband was joyful.

So while I may miss my days of wreckless spending when I was young and naive – I am glad to know that when I am old and grey I won’t be dependent on a piggy bank with 4 quarters in it.
And that’s a good feeling.

Why plans I make rarely work out.

October 16 2010 is the year that I married my amazing husband. We have been together 5 awesome years and I seriously fall in love with him more and more each year. This year we decided that we wanted to do something special for our five years.
We found something called ‘Theatre in the Country’ – dinner and a play! It seemed SO fun and we were stoked!


Until they called us the night before our anniversary to tell us the following.


I guess theatre in the country is not as popular as one would have hoped.

So my husband being the romantic man that he is decided that we would go to the restaurant that we got engaged at! How romantic and perfect! Plus the restaurant was at the top of a mountain and you get to take a tram ride up and there is a bear enclosure and more! It’s a very cool place and we remembered the food being AMAZING (if not insanely overpriced).

Earlier in the week I had gone to the store to find the perfect card for my husband. Every single year prior I would get a super romantic, sappy card for him and he would get me a funny card. It was great. This year I decided to get a HILARIOUS card to best him!


We arrived at the restaurant in seats that were not stellar. Oh well, the sun was already down we didn’t mind. Then they brought out our portions of food.



Then it was time to exchange our gifts and cards. I handed my husband his card and eagerly awaited.


I felt vindicated. Then it was my turn.






Yep. He got me the most beautiful and heartfelt card I’ve read in forever. And I got him one that made a joke about nerds. Oh gosh.

We decided to go for a drive after our dinner where we both discussed a very important topic that was weighing on our minds.



My husband decided to surprise me by taking me to the ghost train in Stanley Park. For those of you unfamiliar- Its a minature train that takes groups around the park where there are spooky actors being creepy. Because I was so excited I insisted on lots of selfies (cringe).


It started out really well! The costumes and props were really fun. It was all building to what I believed would be a wonderful crescendo of horror (even though my husband was half asleep from boredom).


Except it didn’t.


The train merely picked up speed and then drove through a forest of eyes painted on large blocks of wood.


On our drive home I couldn’t help but observe the many pitfalls that had occured during our special five year anniversary day.





So no, nothing turned out like it was supposed to. But you know what?

That’s okay.

Why October season as an adult is awesome

Ahhhh October, my favorite time of the year. Christmas you can keep your snow. Summer you can have your blazing heat. Give me clear cool crisp sunny October days anytime. October means Halloween and costumes and fun and joy. And the fun doesn’t have to stop when you’re a kid – oh no, October is still awesome as an adult. Want proof? Read below.

Why October is still great when you’re an adult

1. October as an adult means delicious seasonal meals that you get to choose – because you’re an adult! Gone are the days of the meatloaf you despised- now you can pick your own happy October-themed menu! (Mine consists of one food group; carbs.)


On the subject of food – you also get to see and buy AMAZING SEASONAL FOOD ITEMS! Like, “Boo Berry” cereal. Did anyone else know that was a thing in Canada? I didn’t! I’m still on the hunt for this eluside Frank-N-Berry!


2. October as an adult means buying Halloween Candy for Trick or Treaters but being real about its ultimate fate.


3. October means getting to watch all the awesome Halloween Shows WHENEVER YOU WANT because digital downloading exists – Wanna watch Hocus Pocus at 3:00AM on a Thursday? NO WORRIES. You can rent it on Youtube for $3.99! Plus you can watch all the AMAZING Halloween shows that you weren’t allowed to watch as kids, or wouldn’t be if you were a kid now (New season of American Horror Story, I’m looking at you…and LOVING YOU).

4. October has the kind of days where you can bundle up in awesomely *fashionable layered outfits that you NEVER got to pick out as a kid because you’re mom probably dressed you. (Or was that just me?)


(*depending on your definition of fashionable)

5. October as an adult means sitting super close to a fire (because no one says you can’t) and getting hypnotized by its crackling, flickering beauty. Does anyone else wonder if they suffer from suppressed pyromania?


6. October as an adult is Decorating your Home in preparation for Trick R Treaters or just decking it out because YOU CAN. I lived in a condo last year. It was boring and we weren’t allowed to put anything on our doors. This year? New home with a FRONT DOOR and a WALKWAY that leads to my ADORABLE FRONT STOOP! I’ve already started decorating the s&^t out of it.


7. October as an adult means you get to actually SEE all the cool costumes people are coming out with! It also means getting to die of cuteness overload when adorable kids come to your house to trick or treat. (Seriously, I saw a child dressed up as a miniature Harry Potter last year. He was no more than 1 years old. He couldn’t even speak, let alone read JK Rowling’s masterpieces. Didn’t matter. He was so cute I nearly passed out. ) Shout out to parents who dress their infant children in ADORABLE costumes just so I can awkwardly “awwwww” at them!


8. Speaking of which October as an adult means that you GET the work that goes into trick or treating as a child. The long walks, the heavy bags of candy, the unseasonable weather (it always seems to rain on Halloween here). Then you trudge up to a house and knock excitedly, crowing out a joyful “Trick or Treat!” only to be handed a sad little box of raisins? NOT ON MY WATCH. Those kids are getting buckets of candy from me! Their work will NOT be in vain!


10. October as an adult means buying and breaking out AWESOME hats! Because they make them for all ages! (This is what I’m telling myself) Plus there are very cute and mature head scarves if wearing a giant owl face on top of your head isn’t for you.


11. October as an adult means going out on Halloween to the haunted houses around town- either to be scared or just admire all the cool decorations. Or just enjoying a walk in the crisp, October air hearing all the excited kids run around and just enjoying the tradition. And also pretending you’re a vampire. Again, that may just be me.


12. October as an adult means getting to wear FUN, creative costumes that YOU enjoy. Not dressing up in what you think you’re supposed to wear.


(Note: if you like dressing up as a sexy cat and are doing it for you, more power to you). But if they put the word “sexy” in front of one more inanimate object, I am going to hurl. Halloween Items I have seen the following “sexy” costumes – “Sexy Traffic cone, Sexy Ebola Nurse, Sexy Hulk Hogan, Sexy Pizza, Sexy Corn-On-the-Cob, Sexy Bin Laden.” Yes, ALL those costumes exist. Feel free to google and then weep for humanity.

It also means that you get to dress up your pets because you either a.) have no children or b.) think it’s funny or c.) both. I know, you think I’m insane. You have a point. But if you could see Gizmo trying to handle the fact that he’s in a bee costume, you’d understand.


13. Lastly, October as an adult means starting your own traditions – so do an annual scary movie night! A yearly Corn Maze trip! It has been a tradition in my home since we got married, that every year my husband and I to go to a pumpkin patch together, pick out the perfect pumpkin, bring it home and each of us carves one half.


This is what it usually looks like.


October is just beautiful (our combined pumpkin carving however, not so much) so don’t fret about being an adult in October- the possibilities for fun are endless!


Why my Mom is really awesome

So my husband has been travelling a LOT on business which you all know I hate. But such is life and so when he leaves for business I sometimes head to my Mom and Stepdad’s for a few days and get spoiled with attention and delicious dinners.

On my last sojourn to their place, I was struck by how funny my mom is. I mean, I know she’s funny, but on this last trip my cheeks hurt from laughing. Most is not translate-able into cartoons, but I thought I would share some beautiful moments shared between my mother and I during a particularly stressful drive to downtown Vancouver.

My mom and I love appetizers. Especially nachos. But not this time. Denny’s Vancouver, you have disappointed us.


(It did look like baby poop!)

Sometimes I get disturbed when my Mom rants. Not because she rants about stupid things (BECAUSE $11.55 for 2 MEASLY HOURS OF PARKING IS RIDICULOUS) Its mostly because I feel like I’m looking to a mirror of what I will become in 30 short years. And its sort of frightening.


My mom likes a good deal. Even when those ‘Good Deals’ are $3 leather pants she found at a store going out of business.


Driving downtown with my Mom is a full on nightmare. Mainly because a.) We both HATE driving downtown and b.) We are both anxious individuals when in stressful situations. So when you put the two of us in a car and try to get us somewhere downtown its a nightmare. Anxiety fuels anxiety.




My mom is like me; she loves talking to strangers and they love talking right back. But sometimes when in public she does this really loud laugh and then she says stuff that makes me cringe.


And my personal favorite quote of the visit:


And while my Mom may embarass me sometimes (as parents are prone to do) and even though she and I may disagree on some things, we will always agree that taking photos of her in front of posters downtown during our very stressful outing is one of the best things ever.


Thanks for being awesome, Mom. You’re seriously so cool and fun and hilarious to talk to and every year you become more and more my friend and mentor along with being my Mom. Don’t know how I got lucky enough for you to be my Mom, but man am I ever glad I did.



Why Moving is Nothing like the Movies

Guys, before I start this blog I just wanted to say one thing:

I know its been SO EFFING LONG since I last updated the blog and I feel terrible about it! Its been such an insane summer – moving, seeing family, starting new jobs, and more and the blog has sort of been pushed to the side! I swear I will be more regular!
Onto today’s topic. MOVING.
I’ll be real with you. Everytime my husband and I embark on a new phase of life, I just sort of assume that it’ll be like something out of a Nora Ephron film. I see montages of adorable things happening and then reality hits and its nothing like I expected. Sort of like the following.


















Yeah, its true. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but with the right partner even the worst experiences have glimmers of joy.

Why having a colonoscopy was funny for everyone but me

So, I went for a colonoscopy last week. It was a surreal and not something I wish to repeat. Good news is – results came back normal! Yay! But the whole experience was not really fun at all. And since I googled a lot of “What will happen for a colonoscopy” and got nothing but scary things like, “Bring a TV into your washroom the day before” and “It will hurt” I thought I’d make this little cartoon of my experience (which was not that bad at all! Just mostly humiliating).
Firstly, I was not able to eat the entire day before surgery (and the morning of). Needless to say, Mama was hungry.

Then, while I was starving and miserable they gave me this stuff called Picolax. You can google what that stuff does. Or you can have my condensed version: You poop until you literally have nothing left inside you. At all. Then you poop some more.

I figured that everyone was being a giant baby. I drank the Picolax drink and was like, “Pffft, this tastes fine. I do not know what everyone is freaking out about.”

Little did I know.

So that was my entire day. It was a weird time.
The next morning, I feel the need to DRESS NICELY FOR MY COLONOSCOPY. For real. Who does that? I wear my best nautical themed dress with a cute belt. Obviously I am very nervous. My husband sees that and tries to distract me to no avail. I just keep looking around at all the people in the hospital waiting room. They look miserable. I assume they are also hungry.

colon3 (2)
All of a sudden my name is called. I jump out of the seat and in a hurry the nurse tells my husband that he can pick me up in two hours. I ask if he can come in with me. She shakes her head because OF COURSE NOT. So in this confusion my husband takes my purse heads for the car and I head in with the nurse.

Then I realize he didn’t give me a kiss goodbye and I have no way to contact him. AND WHAT IF I DON’T MAKE IT?! So I’m tired, scared and now want to cry because I am ALL OVER THE MAP.

I get put into a room with 4 other people. All of whom are sleeping. I am looking into my future.
The same nurse tells me to change into those gross hospital gowns and relax on the bed under the blanket. I try not to think of how many people have died under this same blanket. I count ceiling tiles until she returns. My companions snore on.
She returns and has to give me a needle to put the saline in (and later the drugs that will put me in a ‘Twilight’ sleep. Which is basically truth serum.) She can see that I am terrified. Please remember guys, a camera is going up my butt. The fear is real.

After promising me that she is a ‘sharpshooter’ when it comes to veins, she digs around in my right arm for a good three minutes. No good. She moves to my right. I assure her that I will not think any less of her. She seems amused.


Suddenly a new nurse arrives named Mary. Mary is no nonsense but she takes pity on my scared face and talks me through as the saline starts pumping into my veins. I screech, “IS MY ARM SUPPOSED TO BE COLD?” and she smiles, nods and explains why. I feel I can trust Mary.

That is until I am wheeled into the ‘Operating Room’ or whatever it’s called. Its freezing and more people are there, welcoming me like an old friend back from sea. I can feel my heart start to jump and realize I have been my version of calm up until this point.
It is now that I start to panic.

Mary comes to the side of the bed, positioning me on my side and moving my arm so the tubes don’t get caught. I can see them injecting the drugs into my tube and am suddenly seized with the horrible feeling that I won’t make it out of this experience alive. They’ve put the oxygen mask on my face, likely to stop me from talking.

I start subtly moving about, trying to ask questions when suddenly I feel as if someone is holding my head against the table. (I realized later, this was what the drugs feel like; immense pressure in my head).

Suddenly my vision becomes very blurry. All my trust is gone for Mary. I assume in my stupor that she is holding down my head forcefully so I start calling out to her, heartbroken at her perceived betrayal.


I wake up a while later. I do not remember one single thing from my procedure. Not one. I have a moment of horror and wonder if I am a horrible secret racist or just a jerk under sedation. No one comments on that, so I assume I am in the clear.
I call out confused and raise myself until I am sitting on the edge of the bed. The tubes are out of my arm and I feel very, very tired and confused. All I want to do is go home and sleep in my own bed.

Mary is less patient with me now. Likely because I screamed her name in an accusatory manner right before passing out. I can hear my husband’s voice and I quickly get dressed after eating my juice and cookies. I hate apple juice, but at that moment, it is sweet nectar.
The nurse explains that due to my complaining during the procedure (which I do NOT remember), they had to give me more sedative than normal so I may be out of it for a bit. I stumble into my husband’s arms and he guides me out into the parking lot. I decide that this is the perfect place to catch a few Z’s.

He loads me into the car and I am understandably starving.


When I am denied my very reasonable request, I realize I have a missed message. Someone from work needs some information. I attempt to phone them, blearily trying to press the number keys on my phone before my husband takes my phone from me.


I then catch myself in the rearview mirror and find that I look like garbage. I feel I must rectify this immediately.




After I have been taken inside to the bed I made for myself on the couch before we left, I feel suddenly very concerned about my belt. I try again to call my work but my husband insists I give him a play-by-play of what I will say.


I should add that I have never in my entire life worked with someone named Shiela. Ever.
I do not make the call.

This happens 3 times over the course of an hour. I am convinced more than once that my belt has been stolen by someone at the hospital.


My mom and stepdad arrive at our place then, taking over for my husband who has to return to work. Walter decides to pour himself some juice, but I become concerned.

And then, just to make it worse I forget that I already have lipstick on and try to put more on. I am very frustrated and angry when people ignore my request.


Over and over and over. Then I got mad and went back to sleep on the couch. That day is a blur. I barely remember any of it happening. But just in case I forget, my husband lovingly recorded a lot of it for me to look back and reference. What a guy. In case you’re wondering what happened for the next 24-48 hours; it was this.


 So, if you’re afraid of having a colonoscopy, I totally get it.  But I for one had an okay experience – everyone is different, don’t assume that your experience will be awful! And If colon cancer runs in your family, or your doctor suggests that you need a colonoscopy – please don’t put it off. It could save your life!