Then there are other things that I am thankful for, but don’t remember to be thankful until something happens.

Today, I am thankful for bras.

Now, I know there are some women out there that don’t think they need to wear a bra, but I disagree.  Please make sure to wear one in public at all times.  Use this rule of thumb: If you need a purse, you need a bra!

While out shopping for clothes, I lost part of one of my favourite earrings.  Despite all the searching imaginable, which included 3 sales people, I couldn’t find the rest of my earring.  I left the store with new capris and one less earring.

Later that day, I felt something poking me in a very awkward location.  Lo and behold it was the earring.  It has been lurking in my bra all afternoon!

Not only do bras support, they keep track of missing objects. Like a good woman, they can multi-task for hours without blinking an eye.

I wonder how many bra-less women have lost one of their favourite earrings, which could have been avoided by merely wearing a bra.  Something to think about…or not…

I have two large drawers in my kitchen that are completely devoted to Tupperware and Tupperware lids.  There are also some distant cousins that live in these drawers that hail from the Ziploc family line.

One drawer is for lids, the other for bottoms.

There may only be 3 or 4 complete pairs on any given day; and that’s a VERY GOOD Tupperware day at my house.

It is a test of mental agility to wake up in the morning and complete the ‘do any of these lids and bottoms go together?’ skill test while still bleary eyed and in a semi-conscious state.  Eating a well rounded breakfast, getting dressed for work, and brushing your teeth are all requirements you should complete prior to finding a Tupperware container to hold your lunch.

Tip: DO NOT force a lid on even if you think it SHOULD go on.  This can result in minestrone soup down the front of your suit and all over the kitchen which will make you very grumpy AND late for work.

Is there an age-old feud between the lids and the bottoms that I just don’t know about?  That despite their interlocking abilities, they HATE each other?

This seems to be the only rational explanation to why lids and bottoms never stay together.

Ever single day I think about throwing away all the pieces that don’t match up, but I can’t risk it.  What if all of the sudden the missing lids make their way back home only to find that their mate has been tossed into the dumpster the day before?

I’m a busy woman.  I don’t have time to rummage through the dumpster to retrieve the discarded mates.  Until there is a better solution, I will have two kitchen drawers clogged up with useless pieces of plastic that cause me endless frustration.

Has anyone overcome the Tupperware feud? If so, HOW?!

1. Shock. No one believes it when you casually mention that on your birthday it was -46.1 Celsius, making it nearly the coldest place on the planet that day. AND that you still worked out, went out for lunch with friends, and spent the day shopping. It seems too epic to be real.

2. Boots. You need boots to live here and more than one pair. It is completely practical and rational to have at least 10 pairs of boots to go with all your outfits. I have yet to arrive as I only have 8 pairs. At least living in the arctic gives you good reason to go shoe shopping!

Tsubo, Nine West, Eject, Miss Mooz, Cougar, and London Fly you keep my feet oh so happy and warm!

3. Christmas Pounds. There is no hurry to shed the extra pounds gained over Christmas from eating scads of unhealthy foods while visiting with friends and family. Many layers, large coats, and heavy sweaters are required so you don’t die from exposure.
Is that muffin top 10 Christmas pounds or a bulky sweater…hmmmm….

4. Appreciation. When summer finally comes around there is a deep appreciation for warm weather, the ability to wear a tank top without dying, and sunlight. We are extremely grateful that we don’t have to plug in our cars, wear long underwear under our suits, or go to work and come home in the dark.

5. Winter Sports. Now I am not an outside dweller in the winter, but I married one. Skiing, speed skating, and ice hockey only require sports equipment and either your backyard or a friend’s. Fun times are literally just around the corner. Or for me, just in a coffee shop!

What do you like about dwelling in the arctic?

When my left eye finally cracked open, I saw three blurry numbers glaring back at me.

5:27

Apparently it was time to get up. In a moment of weakness, I had promised a girlfriend that I would meet her at the YMCA at 6:30 to go for an early morning run.

The only part of my body that was able to move was my left arm as it slapped the snooze button with authority.

Eight seconds later I was back into a solid REM cycle.

5:36

The loud voice of my favorite radio personality, Garner Andrews, was suddenly blaring in my ear. In that moment he was no longer my favorite.

I dragged my lazy self out of bed and finally opened both eyes. It wouldn’t do to be late for my early morning run. After all, today was my girlfriend’s first day back from a seven week absence due to injury.

As we ran in the cool -12 Celsius weather we caught up on each other’s lives. We shared the joys, trials, and funny moments since we had last seen each other.

Due to her injury, she was much slower than her usual pace; but it didn’t bother me at all. There have been many times when I was the slower one. The important thing was that we were out running.

You can’t do life alone; it is meant to be run together.

Who do you run the path of life with? Who makes sure you get your lazy self out of bed in the morning? Who are you sharing your life with, no matter what the pace?

When you do, you will find yourself doing things you never thought possible.

He claimed it is ‘fun’.

Most women already know this, but I am going to restate it for those that don’t.

Men are liars.  They lie to get women to do things they want.  In this case, it was yoga.

Upon entering the ‘fun’ yoga studio, I was greeted by bendy people wearing very tight clothing.  I felt like the chubby girl that tries out for cheerleading; awkward, out of place, and not sure what to do next.

While clutching my Pilates mat to my chest, I noticed the lithe yoga people were gathering yoga supplies of blocks, mats, blankets, pillows, cords, and bolsters from a cart on the wall. This was my first real yoga class – no one told me I needed to bring along a yoga checklist!

Luckily the instructor noticed my blank stare and got me all the necessary supplies.

Then the torture began.

While she had us bent up like some sort of contortionist and seated on the floor, she told us to rest our head lightly on the floor in front of us.  I was bending as far as womanly possible and my head was a good two feet from even coming close to the floor.  It was so absurd that I started to giggle.  I had a sense that laughing in the calm, unhurried space of yoga class would be unacceptable so I desperately tried to hold it in.  Unfortunately, the laughter came out in pressured bursts with large amounts of spit.

My uncontrollable giggling was not appreciated.  I quickly sobered up by thinking about sad things like never being able to have chocolate ever again.

She had us try to do things that are completely impossible while saying all manner of words that had more vowels than consonants and at least 12 syllables.  Due to my lack of fluency in the yoga language, I just watched to see what the rest of the class did and desperately tried to mimick their movements.

At the end of class we did some final stretches to ‘completely loosen up’ all our tight muscles.  She led us through a stretch that involved putting your left foot on your right knee, bending into a squat, leaning forward, and then merely doing a handstand to deepen the stretch.  Simple.  Right?

I couldn’t get past step two in the task.  There was no way a pretzel handstand was up next.  There are only so many times a woman should risk her life doing stupid things and this was not one of those times for me!

Yoga is for masochists. It’s an hour and a half of doing torturous things that are impossible for the average woman.

Apparently I fall into this group because I am toying with the idea of going back.

Perhaps it was the sense of satisfaction of not being dead at the end that hooked me.  Who knows?  All I know is that I better keep the giggles under control if I go back!

I did not leap out of bed at 5 am to go work out.

I slept in and was late.  No Green Monster smoothie for me.

The grouchiness settled in and nothing good could come out of today.

After all it’s Monday.

All of my Mondays tend to be horrible, no good, very bad days for no reason in particular.  I am apparently hardcoded to have a bad day on the first day of the week.

Until today.

Today is possibly the best Monday I’ve ever had.

I came in to work to see this at my desk.

A very large box of mystery...

Upon opening it, a very exciting box winked up at me.

Oh my gracious! A Tsubo boot box...can it be?!

My FREE boots from Sally McGraw’s contest had arrived!

Aren’t they gorgeous?!

Fabulous, fabulous boots! I can't believe that they are mine!I think my desk should look like this every day.

Thank you Tsubo and Sally McGraw, you have changed the landscape of my Mondays forever.

I guess all a woman needs is a free pair of boots to make Mondays fabulous.

Such a happy Monday....so happy I can't covertly take a good picture of myself while holding the boots at my desk. I didn't want the men to catch me taking photos of my shoes. They already think I am kinda out of my mind...this would just confirm their suspicions.

What would make your Monday fabulous ?

When I am 100 I want to be able to walk on my own, know who I am without having to be reminded, and laugh until my stomach hurts.

This is why I am torturing myself by going to see my trainer for a near death experience once a week and eating Primal.

Do you know how hard it is to give up everything except meat, eggs, vegetables, fruits, and some dairy?

This means no brownies, chips, mac ‘n cheese, cookies, candy bars, or even popcorn.

My world is officially devoid of all comfort food.

Yesterday I desperately wanted something to ‘crunch’ while watching TV so I ate half a jar of mini dill pickles.  The crunch was satisfying, but the churning in my tummy wasn’t.

During my last training session while trying to run a mile as fast as womanly possible my calves seized.  My left leg ended up at the back of the treadmill clanging around as I tried to keep the conveyor belt from sucking it under.  Luckily I got my right leg off the belt, but it has completely seized as well.  As I fell forward in a semi-panicked state, I managed to push the ‘OFF’ button.

After limping off the treadmill and stretching out, I was told this is a direct result of wearing high heels too often.

My heart nearly broke in two.

I have given up so much already!  My new comfort food is dill pickles people!  There is no way I am giving up my shoes too.

In an act of pure defiance, I purchased a brand new pair of fabulous heels.

They are so fabulous that they almost make up for the lack of comfort food!

I see no reason to NOT wear these.  In fact, I think they just added 2 years onto my life.

There are things I do which I find quirky, but may be more normal than I think.

• I put important things that I don’t want stolen in my underwear drawer.  For instance, I just tucked my passport away next to my bras because somehow this makes perfect sense to me. Perhaps I am giving thieves more credit than they deserve.  In my heart I think they will be respectful enough to not rummage through my unmentionables while robbing me blind; thus protecting the most important things in my house.Maybe I should just get a safety deposit box…
• I think the organization of a woman’s spice cupboard and how clean behind her fridge is tells you exactly what kind of woman she is. My spice cupboard is jammed full of things that aren’t even spices.  Heck, I have a smoke detector in there!

How can you find anything in there?

But I have this spice rack…so does it mean I can pull it together when absolutely necessary?

Perhaps my spice redemption?!

My fridge appears to be just fine from a quick glance.

What a happy little fridge; complete with pictures from the nieces on it.

But upon closer inspection, I’ve really let myself go!

Oh. My. Gosh. I can't believe no one told me how far gone I was!

This is why I will pull the fridge and stove to clean behind before people come over instead of dusting.  Then when they use this litmus test to see if I am a good woman I will pass with flying colors and the dusty pictures and lamps will go without notice.  Right?

• I put peanut butter on almost anything.  Bananas, any sort of bread product, apples, ice cream, Nutella, a spoon, a hunk of chocolate, vegetables, you name it! Some days I find myself standing in front of the open refrigerator with a jar of peanut butter in one hand searching for something worthy to pair it with. If nothing can be found I resort to eating it off a spoon.

• One of my life goals is to be able to masterfully bake a soufflé.  I don’t know why but it seems to be one of those things that separates the girls from the women.  And you never know when a soufflé emergency should arise…if called upon in such an emergency, I would want to be able to save the day.

Am I the only one?  Please tell me it isn’t so!

It’s socially unacceptable to be honest and say something like: “You know…I just don’t really like you. I don’t think we are going to be friends.”

In the effort to rid myself of ‘Happy Arms’ this year I have started to eat only primal foods. This means I eat fruits, vegetables, nuts, meat, eggs, and small amounts of dark chocolate.

During this endeavor I have met a vegetable that drives me crazy and I just can’t figure out what it is.

Yams. I hate them.

HUGE yams lurking in my kitchen

White potatoes are supposedly bad for you because they turn into sugar as soon as you eat them. So I have turned to yams for a potato alternative. Unfortunately, in my opinion, the yam is the relative that everyone is ashamed of and is only invited to Christmas dinner because everyone feels sorry for them.

They masquerade as a potato, but are so sweet that they cause you to gag.

So I have decided to be honest with all the yams out there. “You know…I just don’t really like you. I don’t think we are going to be friends.”

I have put all the yams in my house where they belong.

Out with the trash!

Primal eating is officially yam-free at my house.

Do you have a yam in your life that you need to be honest with?

These people clog up the YMCA for the first few weeks of January and can be spotted without much work.

They are the people that:

• are wearing brand new, high end workout outfits that strain to contain the muffin tops;
• lug around a water bottle that matches their outfit;
• wander aimlessly and look VERY confused in the weight room while sipping water from their matchy-matchy water bottle; and
• insist on eating a power bar in the stretching area after meandering around the workout area for 45 minutes.

I think getting healthy and in shape is a very noble New Year’s resolution.

This year my resolution is to get rid of my Happy Arms.  What are ‘Happy Arms’ you ask?

Happy Arms – noun.  A jovial arm that cannot help but wave along with a person when they wave.  They always give a second, third, or fourth wave to people and are most happy when a woman wears a tank top.

I think just having a happy face is perfect.  My arms need to learn how to be happy and content on the inside.

In order to do this, I will face the horde of confused New Year’s resolutions at the YMCA and continue to discipline my ‘Happy Arms’ to keep their joy to themselves.

What are your New Year’s resolutions this year?