thankfully for all of those involved, i didn’t have to attend The Heart Truth Fashion show in the buff. i did, however, have to sweat my way through an annoying clusterfuck to prove to them that YES! I AM ON YOUR LIST! and i wasn’t some imposter trying to pose as media. my little camera-that-could looked like, well, like all the other media camera could eat her in one teeny bite…but, sigh, at least *I* wasn’t wearing beige short shorts over black tights and GREEN SPARKLY FLAT MARY JANES (i half expected her to be muttering “there’s no place like home” under her breath) because, honestly, going naked would have been better than that.
once i proved to them that yes, indeed, i had a seat, sitting right behind Jeanne Beker, and right across from Jake Gold. and seriously, you all, if you are not Canadian, you are staring at the screen all “what the hell kinds of drugs is ali taking? is she making people up?” i assure you, canadians know. and anyone who has ever watched America’s Next Top Model or Canada’s Next Top Model would understand why i squeed a little bit when i waltzed over to Nole Marin and forced him to take 87 pictures with me until we got one where my eyes were open. I mean, sure, it wasn’t Nigel Barker, but GAH. holy shit, i was at fashion week! and i’ll be going back for some more fashion-y goodness tonight and tomorrow night. and i’ll be doing some write ups (WITH PICTURES) on Juice, and soonsoonsoon i’ll be able to debut a another new little project i’ll be doing on urbanmoms.ca (hint: there’s fashion involved!)
speaking of goodness…in addition to the copy of Chatelaine and the (3) Schick quattro shavers i managed to score, i was handed this treat:
i don’t know what to make of it, actually. kit kat + hazelnut? really? i mean, kit kat is one of my most favorite chocolate treats. granted, i haven’t eaten one since i was in high school, when i almost always ate them by first eating all the chocolate around the edges until all that was left was the wafer (oh my god you guys i am repulsed just telling you that i did this when i was grown and not, um, 4) but…messing with a good thing? i don’t know. i didn’t like when they added caramel to just about every chocolate bar out there. Reese Caramel Cup? BARF. also…i’m a little confused as to why it’s called “Senses” and not, you know, Kit Kat Hazelnut. or something.
it’s the little things you think about when you are overtired and nursing a post St. Patrick’s day hangover. heh.
and some news to report on the ali-takes-back-the-gym front. It’s been exactly a month since i joined the gym and started working out on my own AND with scary trainer Olga. i’m pretty sure i’ve GAINED 2 pounds, maybe 3 (and if any one of you says “well, that’s because muscle weighs more than fat” i have a tivo’ed speech from Jillian Michaels to tell you that you are full of SHIT) but, the weight gain aside, i feel AWESOME. my ass is so pretty right now. i mean, it was nice before (sadly…my best physical feature and it’s located on the one spot i can’t even see without using two mirrors and some super ninja-like bendy moves), but, hello, FIRMNESS! welcome to my life! you can stay. i am also able to run for more than 3 minutes straight without collapsing and dying, which is a plus, no? okay, fine, i don’t have the stamina of crazy-workout-girl on the machine beside me who burned 1100 calories AT ONE TIME, but still.
also…help me get my daughter to do TWO things please…
a) let me dress her in something other than this t-shirt
b) let me tame her hair
i suppose i should be thankful that the child is 3 and dresses herself every morning and that she finally has hair….because she was cue-ball bald for pretty much the first THREE years of her life… and she finally is no longer mistaken for a BOY.
(also, i should let you know something, so it doesn’t go unnoticed because sometimes, my husband really surprises me. there’s NOTHING in the world quite like getting a text message that says “i’ll meet you at the promenade after the workout so we can buy you something to wear to fashion week.” seriously, y’all. i don’t need romance. or mush. or gush. just give me a man who feeds into my shopping desire any day of the week and twice on tuesdays. RAWR.) (sadly, we walked away with nary a purchase) (i HAVE to shop alone)