Two decades ago, I was concerned about getting a vehicle. Not for the reasons you might think. I was afraid that if I got in the vehicle, I’d turn on the ignition and never look back, effectively giving in to the wanderlust that ensnares my soul at times.
If you subscribe to the statement that “the state of your life is nothing more than a reflection of the state of your mind” – what would that mean if you thought life is boring?
You’re boring.
“It will only take a moment!” The thoughts that trickle through my mind as procrastination quietly convinces me that everything in the moment is a priority. I check emails, de-clutter the office, or unload the dishwasher. I justify these actions by saying, “Tomorrow, I’ll start.” But it doesn’t happen. Procrastination steals our dreams.
Visualize an entire plane filled with pregnant women. Now imagine that plane crashing and killing everyone on board on a weekly basis.
You would think this would make the news…
Imagine having a billboard like this just on the outskirts of town. Your town.
It was one of those oddly surrealistic moments in time when you don’t really know what possessed you to do that thing you just did.
The fact is – no one gave me a permission slip to do it.
The type of people who do this sort of thing are normally the people who don’t know they aren’t supposed to be doing this sort of thing. I hope it happens again.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Go do the hiking trip in the book that had the prettiest picture and most scenic view. Made perfect sense to me. How hard could it possibly be??
Kidnapped away from my trusty computer, I was willingly ‘forced’ to meander and stroll about Granville Island with an old friend from out of town. 
Great times…except for the early morning hour!! 
Serves me right for going to bed so late…
Took the afternoon off to grab a cuppa rose-flavoured black tea at the Granville Island Tea Shop for my stroll through Van Dusen Botanical Gardens.
While I’m laying there in bed listening to the sounds of Hobbes getting murdered by Pookie’s alter-ego, Pookie-Monster, I like to think they’re play-acting to get my attention.
For a cat of his supreme size, he makes a surprisingly easy target. It’s like hitting the side of a barn.
There is a premise that “we are the sum total of the five people we spend the most time with,” so what does that mean when 2 of the 5 are feline?
It’s not everyday I have a cup of tea with a genius who can whip up an image of me in a matter of minutes. Mark’s first name is Seriously. His middle name is Unbelievably. And his last name is Talented.
It all began with a late-night telephone call about strange lights emanating from the sky. Was it an alien from outer space? Braving the cold wet night, my neighbour and I went out into the darkness, wearing nothing but our fleece pajamas and gortex. Oh, and we brought popcorn too.
Never in my life have I dreamt about zombies. And I’m not talking about the ones you see downtown wearing the business suits with a vacant stares. Oh no…I am referring to the walking dead.
It was time to put the wee fur-children on a diet. Pookie, who looked like a large orange basketball with tiny legs sticking out, made my life a living hell. Her brother, Hobbes, also known as ‘blobber,’ conspired with her to make me miserable. But I would show these little fuzz-butts who was boss in this household. Probably not one of my brightest ideas…
What does the band Queen have in common with banana splits?
Me.
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