Dave: Today Tessa and I woke at 5am to the sound of rain… more like a torrential downpour. Ahhh nothing like race day. Not only would I be the fittest spectator but I might be the only spectator. With a couple more “maybe I won’t do the race” remarks we set out to face the storm. I have to say I was very impressed with what I saw… women of all ages, shapes and sizes all standing in the pouring rain getting ready for the race. I realized that this wasn’t just a race of physical stamina but a race of “let’s get out there and have some fun.” And a lot of these women were doing just that.
I’m glad Tessa decided not to pull out of the race. I know her well enough to know that it would have taken a hell of a lot to have that happen. She doesn’t let excuses stop her, excuses are like pressing fast forward on your life, and she just doesn’t let that happen. So when I watched her cross that finish line, bad knee and all, like so many other times in our relationship, I was proud and inspired.
My Diva Rocks!!
My Diva Rocks!!
July 27, 2008 · No Comments
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A Stressed Diva: Divas Only Sprint Distance Triathlon
July 27, 2008 · No Comments
Tessa: So who knew that doing a triathlon could be so stressful. As race day draws near I am much more nervous that I’d anticipated. I didn’t train enough. I didn’t link. I didn’t do any reading. I thought I’d have a team of friends doing it with me, I have a bum knee, I don’t think I can run the 5 k. People are going to see me. I’ve forbidden all friends and family except Dave from coming out and watching. I feel oddly vulnerable and embarrassed and on top of it all I had no idea I was going to feel this way. I’m a happy go lucky person. Even though I’ve had heaps of fun training for the race with Dave, today I’m a mess. I’ve cried, I’ve thought of not doing it, I’ve tried to figure out what the deal is and the only thing I can think of is menopause. Maybe I’m perimenopausal? Maybe if I didnt’ have a bum knee I’d feel more triumphant, more like a ‘real’ athlete, maybe if I’d trained harder I wouldn’t be feeling this way. Now I’m wondering why I’ve signed up. So I consider not going? I had this thing in my head that I would be doing this with a bunch of girlfriends. And it’s just me. I’m not feeling sorry for myself, I just never anticipated this reaction. So I’ve considered not going. But then I think about how I would feel if I didn’t. Then I think about how much fun Dave and I had biking and getting ready for this and I want to get a bit of that lighthearted joie de vivre back.
I know I’m going to go out tomorrow and do my best. I’m going to go out and stay calm while I’m swimming. I’m going to create a calm place in my head that’s going to allow me to do my laps, walk to the transition area, get on my bike and then I’m going to remember just how much I love bicycling. I’m going to get that slightly competitive moment that will allow me to push myself just a little bit harder. Then I’m going to get off my bike and start my run. I feel ashamed that I can’t probably run…and I think that’s it. That’s why I feel vulnerable. But I’m going to walk as hard and as fast as I can and I’m going to remember how good it feels to be alive. Because that’s what this is all about. I’m going to go out tomorrow and I’m going to do my best. Just like Ella did on Grouse Mountain even when she was so tired and easily the smallest person on that hill. So I’ll think of Ella, Muhammad Ali and Dave. Maybe next year I’ll let others watch.
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Tagged: Divas only, triathlon nervous wreck
Vacuuming is a contact sport
July 23, 2008 · 1 Comment
Tessa: Dave says he doesn’t want me to vacuum anymore because I’m too destructive. By destructive he means I put holes in the wall when I vacuum. Believe me, this isn’t some elaborate ruse to get out of housework. I love vacuuming but I don’t subscribe to his methodology which is uhhh well a methodology. I’m more of a freelance, happy pants, give it my all kind of vacuumer. Even taking the vacuum out of the closet can be hazardous to anything in the surrounding area. To me, vacuuming is more like a contact sport. It’s something you throw yourself into wholeheartedly. You do it quickly and with as much energy as possible. Does this mean there are occasional casualties?Yes. Does this mean the walls suffer. Yes, more often than not.
Last time we fought about this he said I was being a half-assed vacuuming bully who didn’t give a shit about his buff walls. That’s absolutely not true. I love his walls. They’re beautiful. I’m not intentionally punching holes in them. It’s a consequence of a domestic sporting activity. Vacuuming is after all a contact sport. You don’t play football without getting a few war wounds!
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Tagged: domestic chores and marriage, male female approach to housework, vacuuming as a sport
Old Style Marketing versus New Style: Nail Hit on Head: The Break Up
July 23, 2008 · No Comments
Hellooooo everyone,
I got this from my new favourite social media source called Web Social Architecture. This video says it all:
“Nail Hit on Head: The Breakup
→ No CommentsCategories: Relationships · Web Marketing · web 2.0
Tagged: old marketing versus social media, social media and traditional advertising, The Break up / advertising
Groovin’ along on a fine summer morning with William Shatner Singing Rocket Man
July 17, 2008 · 2 Comments
I think I’ll smoke now. Thank you. Watching William Shatner’s groovin’ rendition of Bernie Taupin and Elton John’s hit Rocket Man is going to make you want to smoke. I don’t smoke. Or at least I haven’t smoked in a while and mostly I have no desire to smoke. But Shatner makes me want to smoke. I heard that Shatner had also done a movie called Incubus which was written and filmed entirely in the made up language of Esperanto. I’m not a trekkie or a Shatner fan but this guy is the essence of cool. Ii’ll post the links to Youtube rather than embedding since most of the video links seem to die after a certain time. So sit back. Grab a smoke. Grab a drink for christ sakes and listen to Billie.
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Tagged: William Shatner, William Shatner Incubus, Incubus, Esperanto movie, William Shatner Rocket Man, Versions of Rocket man
Divas Only: When Your Diva is Your Man
July 3, 2008 · No Comments
Tessa: When I decided to do the Divas Only sprint distance triathlon I thought I would invite my legions of friends and family to join me in the hopes that it would bring about some sense of community. I’m joking mostly but I thought it would be a fun thing to do. Get a bunch of crazy women together and build a bond through adversity sort of like going to war or living through a hen party when the police are called in to settle down the drunk but avid knitters.
Anyways, my one friend who agreed is hanging on by a thread and she has an excellent excuse. She’s learning to swim. I’m not sure when Dave started worrying about who was going to train with me; who was going to be my drunken hen. But I’m sure he knew early on that my steely grey-eyed gaze would land squarely on him.
So as I drafted my war plan, he lay silently in bed beside me with the pillow on his head. We’ll get up early, ride the demonstration forest and begin linking directly afterwards…we’ll run back up the trail for 5 kilometres. Wait, maybe we’ll walk run. For extra strength training we should throw in some low walks. Or we could just drive to the Baden Powell trail and run up that. Maybe throw in a swim with Reuben later. Real linking will begin later. Maybe I’ll give up wine and start carbo loading right away.
My war plan, admittedly, keeps me frighteningly pre-occupied. He thinks I’m depressed but really I’m just busy planning.
So for a general in waiting it wasn’t easy for me to have my ass whooped on the riding trail. Because Dave is the person he is, he knows better than to look back to see where I am on the ride. I just buckle down and do my best to catch him.
Last week I thought my training had finally made the difference I was looking for. From the start I was ahead, I felt strong, unbeatable, invincible. Every moment counted as I rode my way to glory from the end of the Demonstration forest and back. I was secretly gleeful that Dave was far behind. I peddled harder and harder, faster and faster. From time to time I could hear Dave labouring behind me. When we finally made it to the end he looked red, and exhausted.
I tried to coddle him with triumphant sympathy. Are you okay? Want some water? Want to do the Baden Powell later? How about the Grouse Grind?
He said nothing on the way home. Silent. Defeat hurts. I should know. Twenty minutes later he said, I feel a bit better now. Oh what’s wrong. Fuck, he said. I had massive heat stroke. I wanted to stab you. The one day you decide to go on the victory march I’m dying of heat exhaustion. I threw up.
You threw up? Yeah. That’s right. When? On the bike ride. Are you serious? Why didn’t you say anything? You were looking so triumphant. Didn’t want to stop you.
Suddenly it’s all clear. He didn’t want to wreck my moment. There he was being the diva he is, ralphing in the woods while I was riding to glory. Yes, he wanted to stab me in the eyes. Who wouldn’t? But really, what a guy. I get it now. Dave is my number one Diva. My all inspiring hen. He was right here all along, training right beside me.
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Tagged: best friend, divas only training, husband training with wife
Dye Jobs or die jobs. When hair colouring goes drastically wrong
June 25, 2008 · No Comments
Tessa: Recently I had the misfortune of allowing my hairdresser to have her way with me. I pointed at several pictures I had brought along as proof of where I wanted to go and showed them to her. Here this is what I want. Look. This is what I need. Not too brown, give me my shag back, not too blond either though. Natural. I want natural. Cindy whipped out her colour wheel, showed me three colours calling them things like G7 and an L8 with a little bit of aR2 will really give you a nice r2d2. Sounds fine. Let’s go.
Three hours later she’s rinsing my hair in the sink and I ask her what r2d2 looks like. She doesn’t give me her usual confident I’m so great smile and instead says …oh the gold here looks nice on top. When she removes the towel from my head I see that I’ve gone from brilliant white blond to dark brown. Dark brown must be what r2d2 is. I start reviewing the colour wheel in my mind.
She tried desperately to be cheerful. I thought I saw my jaw drop. Yes, it did drop. Then Dave walked in and I definitely saw his jaw drop. Boy. Was his weekend ruined.
I think she knew I was upset because even her glazy cheerful demeanour started to wilt under my fragile gaze. You want your hair straightened or curly. Ahh whatever.May as well make it curly since it will go that way on its own anyways. We got half way there and I guess she decided 3 hours was enough on one client and she leaves me half dry half wet with brown hair.
We part ways and with my usual lying ways, I hugged her, said it was all terrific, gave her a big fat tip, ran outside to find the closest pair of scissors so I could cut it all off. Dave, oh Dave. How I love Dave. He was shocked. I could tell. He’ll never admit it and that’s okay. But I know shock when I see it.
We go next door to the restaurant where I disappear into the bathroom for about 3 hours. Where were you? he asks. I don’t answer. Throughout dinner he refills my sake glass frequently. By the time we get home he’s saying encouraging things like you’re hair is so beautifully caramel. Caramel. That’s it. It’s like toffee. You smell like toffee. You are my little toffee.
I love him too. And I love that he uses the word caramel when we really all know what that means.
In the end I don’t cut my hair off, I don’t kill myself, I don’t anything. It’s just hair. And it’s caramel coloured. I am a caramel. So if Dave.
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Tagged: hair dye jobs gone wrong, hairdressing disasters
Conversations with My Mother: He did it for me!
June 18, 2008 · 2 Comments
Tessa: Ring Ring: Gaboodle Gaboidle
Rosie: My Mother
Tessa: Is a Toitle
Rosie: Where have you BEEN?
Tessa: Mom, I’ve been right here.
Rosie: Well, why didn’t you answer your phone?
Tessa: If I knew it was you I would have answered.
Rosie: Oh. Anyways. So I heard.
Tessa: You heard what?
Rosie: Your brother told me.
Tessa: He told you what?
Rosie: About the car.
Tessa: Oh, yeah. We’re looking for a new car?
Rosie: Why? What do you need a new car for? Always wanting so many fancy things. You spend too much money, Tessie. Save your money.
Tessa: Well, we know what we can spend and what we can’t spend.
Rosie: Well, you know that Dave. He has expensive test. And what for?
Tessa: For Reub. He needs air conditioning. He can’t take the heat. Makes him sick. Dave says if we don’t get air conditioning we have to wrap wet towels around him when we go out. And a straw hat.
Rosie: I know why Dave is buying it.
Tessa: It’s not just Dave,. Anyways. Why?
Rosie: He’s doing it for me, isnt’ he?
Tessa: He’s doing what?
Rosie: Buying the new car. You know how he is. He wants to pick me up from the airport in something fancy.
Pause
Pause
Rosie: Tell Dave I don’t give a shit. He can pick me up in that old Acura that I can’t get out of. Remember how I almost got heat stroke in that car?
Last time Dave picked me up in that Volkswagon. Those Germans are bastards. I know that. I was married to one. But they make great cars. Wooowwweeee. It smelled so good. Anyways, tell him I don’t care. Don’t spend the money all on me. Your brother is wondering how you can afford all this. We don’t understand.
Tessa: Why should he care. Anyways.
Rosie: I know. I’ll let you go. Bye. Say hi to Dave.
Tessa: Bye mom. Love you!
Rosie: Don’t buy the new car. You kids are wasting your money!
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Tagged: Conversations with My Mother
There go vegetables! Loyal to Its Roots
June 10, 2008 · No Comments
Tessa: Dave has often wondered when I would discover that plants like animals are sentient beings and therefore on the ever shortened endangered eating list. Well New York Times writer Carol Kaesuk Yoon just posted this story Loyal to Its Roots - how some plants can differentiate between relatives and strangers.
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Tagged: Carol Kaesuk Yoon, crack head scientists who say plants can feel, Loyal To Its Roots, New York Times Science story on sentient plants, plants and animal as sentient beings, plants have feelings
We’re off to Relax: But first Feist and Sesame Street
August 1, 2008 · No Comments
Tessa:
Tomorrow Dave, Reub and I are off to our friend Janice’s place on the coast for one week of our summer vacation. In spite of the slight trauma involved with the Divas Only Sprint Triathlon, so far we have enjoyed our best summer ever. Not to dwell any further on the triathlon but I have to say, having come out on the other end I realize it’s good to make yourself do hard things. That was a hard thing for me. In retrospect, I feel a little silly at the drama of it all but overall doing it and training for it with my man diva is what made this such a fantastic summer for both of us. We’ve been having fun. Our dog is alive. Our cats are well. Oh well. They’re alive but so what. Hilary didn’t win the democratic ticket but I can live with it. I just read a great book called Sweetness in the Belly, Dave has discovered (and therefore I have discovered) some great music. Best of all I have spent some time with Taya and Ella my two favourite little girls. So all this happiness brings me to Feist. I didn’t know who Feist was but now I do since Dave hunted down her Sesame Street appearance on YouTube. How cute. Enjoy. Peace.
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Tagged: Feist Sesame Street, great summers