I’ve often found that the most spontaneous, fun things I do end up providing me a great sense of adventure, pride and joy in retrospect. Piercing my tongue? what fun driving my parents nuts! Getting tattooed at a shady biker bar at age 15? Rebellion at its finest. Making out with that cute guy I don’t even know? Well, that one got me a husband. See?
It is with that blind faith in spontaneity that I got picked up in the truck after work yesterday and directed husband to a woman’s house in the subdivision next to us. I planned on waiting till we got there to surprise him with his Christmas present (albeit early) and I couldn’t even wait that long!
“We’re going to go see golden retriever puppies!” He grew a huge smile and looked over to the passenger seat.
“Really? You want one?”
“Oh yes yes yes!
We got to the house and two insane dogs jumped and greeted us with their crazy dumb dog smiles, leading us to the pen, and their human owners, around back. Two tiny puppy heads poked up above the pen walls and I was sold. Like, instantly. Him too.
So we went to Wal Mart to buy dog things we thought we’d need, like anti-chew spray and a cute pink collar for the runty girl we picked out. We called the owners to confirm. Our discussion was probably on parallel with that of eight-year-olds.
“Do you want it?”
“Ya, it is sooo cute.”
“It’d be a lot of work.”
“I know, I know, I know. I’ll do it. Pleaseeeee.”
So it looks like we’re getting a 13-week-old golden retriever puppy this weekend. We haven’t decided on a name yet, but we like Mango and Skylar.
I am totally unprepared, we have to dog-ify the house, I have no idea if puppies sleep through the night or if they need to get up and pee at some point. But it’ll be so much fun, right?

Labels: puppy

I was really good about keeping to my running schedule when I was in Ottawa. I was also motivated by my shock and awe when I arrived and could not do up my wedding dress. Me? Put on weight?
So it was an everyday task I sometimes lamented but always stuck to: 4-5 km around my ‘hood. I was making progress, eating right, and ended up looking fabulously fit in my dress, if I do say so myself. I realized I had been lacking motivation in Whitehorse. Why run? I’m skinny and stuff. Why run? I walk to work don’t I? Why run? It’s hard when I breathe like a fat kid in this elevation of 2,300 feet above sea level.
Now that I’m back in Whitehorse I see winter is coming. I see it because it is dark out almost all the time and it is friggin freezing too. I can’t wake up, eat a leisurely breakfast and go for a run at 10 in the morning anymore because I’m back to work, bringing home the bacon and breaking stories. Motivation is desperately seeking a life force. It’s cold. It’s dark. The wedding’s over and my man loves me even when I gain 10 pounds.
But wouldn’t it be cool to run a race with all these superfit Yukoners in the spring and not be barfing up a lung in the process?
And how sweet would it be if I ran the mother’s day 5k and actually placed in it with a kick-butt time?
So Tuesday I packed my outdoor winter running gear. The stuff that hadn’t seen my skin since I was running along the Rideau Canal during winterlude last year, prepping for my first 10k. I brought it to work and I ran the Millennium trail along the Yukon River during my lunch break, the one time of day when there’s a bit of sun in the sky.
It was beautiful. The river was banked with snow, it was serene, the run was quiet and surprisingly not too difficult. I didn't even take my iPod. I listened t the water running over the rocks and the sily thoughts inside my head.
So I’m back, running. I’m back with Gore-tex, super-grip winter running shoes.


So there’s polar diamonds and fair trade diamonds and arctic diamonds, and though I haven’t seen Leo sexify it up in Blood Diamonds with a fake South African accent, I get the jist of what a blood diamond is. (Thanks Internet!)
And kudos to those out there for pioneering social and environmentally conscious diamonds, because really, there are people who care about that and it’s 2007... we don’t need to be using trade practices established during the colonialization of Africa, right?
Living in Whitehorse gives me a leg up on factory-direct gold and diamonds (ha! I wish!) that are mined around here. Well, I at least can visit the mines the stuff in our jewelry stores came from, although I probably wouldn’t. I just know that I can. I can trace where diamonds come from (the ground up here in the arctic) to the treatment/refinery plants to People’s jewelers or, in my case, Murdoch’s on Main Street.
Now today’s assignment at work is researching eco-gold. Ore that is being panned
(using modern, cool equipment mind you) up here in the Klondike using no toxic chemicals or byproducts that makes hippies and activists and socially conscious consumers happy. (Or so these companies claim ... I’ll bite for now) There aren’t any international rating or certification systems for fair-trade or eco-gold yet, so consumers just have to do the research themselves (though who actually does?).
I thought this was a pretty cool concept. As a twentysomething now making more mint than my student career allowed, I am also able to make conscious choice about where said money goes.
Organic or cheap? Soy or 2 per cent? Fair trade coffee or the don’t-ask, don’t- tell Timmie’s coffee? Do I buy advil for my headache or do naturopathic things like wearing cold wet socks to drain the blood from my head? Decisions, decisions.
Although I must add in the disclaimer that when it comes to gold and diamonds, I never turn away what comes to me in small velvet boxes, nor do I ask where they came from. I mostly just squeal in delight and hug whoever the giver of such jewels happens to be.

Labels: money, social conscious

My wedding day was a blast and each day that passes since (going on 10 now) leaves a little more of the story foggy in my newlywed brain. So, for the records (yours but mostly mine!), here is what it was like:
7:00 wake up in my old room, now my brother’s room. The girls and I built a fort the night before, tacking bed sheets to the ceiling, stringing Christmas lights around the room. We had watched Muriel’s Wedding, and Father of the Bride. We had half-empty Smartfood bags lying around and empty mini cans of Coke Zero. But we had no time to clean, of course. We woke up, shut the door to that room for another day, and went to the salon.
8:00 At the salon, I got to sit down first. I sipped water, wanting to look “hydrated” and with the foresight I wouldn’t be nonchalantly sipping on my litre-sized Nalgene today like usual. We passed around the muffins my aunt and grama had made, and we laughed along to the mix CD my best friend made. (Imani Coppola, Spice Girls, Across the Universe songs)
My quirky hairdresser regaled me with stories of her failed marriage and recently-received divorce notice, quipping, “I know you don’t want to hear this today, but...”
She put on the veil and everyone swooned (including me!). My bridesmaids and mum’s hair looked awesome and sophisticated and we hurriedly tornadoed outta there.
10:00 Enter my house, it smells really good. Turn the corner and see my living room filled with vases of roses and flowers from fiancé. Wow! I honestly wouldn’t have expected something so sappily romantic from him, but was pleasantly surprised at how easily I became a princess.
We all stampeded upstairs to begin make up. I shaved my legs over the side of the tub before putting on my thigh-high stay ups and blue garter.
11:00 Best friends did my makeup and applied my fake eyelashes as the photographer and video guy showed up to “capture the magic” as they said. The video guy interviewed me downstairs against a backdrop of more flowers and the black leather book that was my present to fiancé.
“And what’s your present to him?” asked the video guy, who looked a little like Donna’s Dad from That 70s Show.
“Well, it’s a book of pictures no one but Rich should see!” I had taken boudoir pics for him, well mostly for him, but also so I can be an old granny and look back at how smoking hot I once was.
12:00 And I’m having my gown slid over my arms, shoulders and head. Best friend does up the back, slowly, so the paparazzi present could capture it. I put on my shoes, necklace, bracelet and earrings. Check my mum’s mirror one last time to make sure my makeup looks right. Photographer enters for our photo shoot. Bridesmaids and mum file in for pics with me at photo guy’s direction and I hear the door open downstairs and fiance's voice. I giggle and get so antsy! Finally, he is brought upstairs with eyes closed and he sees me for the first time. I cry a little nd the photo guy gets his shots before I can go hug and kiss my man. A few more pictures with family, I grab my pashmina and parka and we’re going to the market for pictures.
1:30 My brother dedicates the sweetest Gavin DeGraw song to us on the way downtown. I make a conscious effort to take it all in.
1:45-2:30 Downtown is really cold. We pose, we move, our hands get numb and our noses run but the photo guy says we take great pictures. We scurry between my parka and stone walls, benches, archways.
2:30 Mad dash with my brother back home to catch the limo to the church. Fiance’s parents have left without him so brother has to take him.
2:40 We’re in the limo, me, my parents, my girls. We sing “Chapel of Love” and touch up lip stuff.
2:55 We’re in the basement of the church. The flower girls are dancing, fluffing their dresses, we’re laughing, I’m nervous.
3:00 Justin Timberlake music starts playing and the church lady at the back assembling us all looks like a chicken with her head cut off. Each girl starts walking away from me, one by one. My stomach is flipping, I’m breathing deep trying to calm down. My dad squeezes my hand.
I walk down the aisle and forget about everything but the boogie jokes my dad is telling me, and trying to see fiancé. The video guy’s light is right in my eyes so I can’t see much. I see one of my friends bawling and I laugh at her. A big smile is plastered across my face from now until sundown.
We stand in front of everyone but I just look at him. We say our vows, we put rings on each other and hold each others hands. I cry a little bit but not too much.
We walk down the aisle together, the sun is shining right in, making a silhouette around us. We stop to look back at the photo guy, then at each other, before we leave the church as man and wife.
3:40 I have people all around me taking pictures giving hugs, coming, going. It was overwhelming and I don’t remember much. We go back into the church for family pictures and I get called Mrs. ___ for the first time. :)
4:30 The wedding party gets in a limo, we drive to our photo location to find we have 10 minutes before it closes! We take hilarious, speedy pictures and then some outside where it is cold.
5:00 We are in the limo, drinking champagne and laughing. I ask the limo driver to cruise for awhile so we can soak this all in and be goofy. I give him his present, he loves it. He gives me earrings that match my engagement ring, I love them too.
5:45 We get to the reception, at a hotel. Unload our stuff in our room. Check makeup fast and head out to wait to be called into reception room. People running all around me, photo guy going nuts.
6:15 get introduced into reception hall. Don’t notice much at first except a few faces as we head to the dance floor for our first dance. We dance to our high school song, "Hanging by a Moment.” I don't notice anything anymore but him. We laugh to each other.
6:30 We sit down to eat an awesome dinner. I didn’t really like the mixed green salad, but the mashed potatoes were sooo filling. We had champagne in special flutes. We stood up to kiss everytime someone sang a song about love, cops, or reporters. We laughed and cried in speeches. Best man had some surprisingly sweet things to say, I was speechless! Best friends put on an awesome slideshow that made me realize, “Wow, this is all for us!”
7:45 ish Daddy and I dance to “Daughters”, get the night kicked off.
8:00 Onwards all night now is dancing, drinking more water, getting hot, taking goofy pictures, asking for help holding my dress in the washroom and rubbing my sore armpits being rubbed by the boning in my dress.
The last song of the night, when most people had gone to bed but our diehard party friends and relatives. They circled around us, and we danced the last song, “Grow Old with You.” We say sweet things to each other and look into each others eyes. It was the best moment of my whole life.
And they lived happily ever after.

Labels: wedding