Us women hear the words gift and present and do we ever roar. And boy can that last sentence come off diva-ish and make us women look like greedy-little-gold-diggers. But I know that you know exactly what gets us blonde, bronzed, twentysomethings going. It isn't necessarily about the actual present itself, but instead, we like getting gifts because they make us feel special and appreciated. We like the idea that someone out there is thinking of us and knows just what to do to put a smile on our pretty little faces.
The excitement that comes with the idea of someone getting us a little something, is all about the idea of what it is, it's cache, it's meaning, it's value, it's sentiment...dare I go on? From birthdays, to anniversaries to just little reminders of love here and there, most of us twentysomething women can't resist flirting with the idea of getting gifts, and when a box (or envelope) is handed to us from a special someone, we can't help but let out the inevitable smile.
Last week I was sitting ever-so-calmly in my bubble bath, with the flickering of candlelight shining from my new glass candle with a studded black J on it (yes, it was a gift). This candle solely lit the room, until I noticed flashing coming from my pink-covered Blackberry Tour. Though my phone was on silent (as it always is when I take some down time to relax in the bath), the flashing light was a symbol that I had an awaiting message. I reached for my phone, my curiosity killed the cat yet again. To my surprise the message was from a male friend of mine who wanted advice on what to get his girlfriend for their one year anniversary.
A little turquoise box flashed into my imagination and I told him I knew just the place for us to go. When the weekend came, he picked me up from my apartment according to schedule, and we headed over to a modest little jewelers I know called Tiffany & Co. Since I know his girlfriend and her style (as well as his price range), I was able to make my selections and narrow down his choice. We stood there as he debated over two necklaces, when I told him to just follow his heart. When he made his decision I saw a sparkle in his eyes that mimicked the sparkle of the diamond in the heart-shaped key necklace he chose. I went home and back to reality that night and felt like I was glowing. I was so happy to be a part of making someone else happy and I hear she put the necklace on as soon as she unwrapped her present which spoke unsaid words.
What is the best present you've ever received? Was it something flashy? Something that made your friends jealous? Or was it something priceless and ridiculously thoughtful - proof that this person notices the little things you say and picks up on your interests and wants, a present that just makes you melt and scream that romance isn't dead?
I have both given presents that have made the receivers cry out of happiness and shock and have received presents that made me feel the same.
Sometimes something as simple as a card filled with writing from the heart, can be the greatest gift of all.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Love Buzz
Women across the nation sat eagerly in front of their flat screens last night, waiting to see who Bachelor Jake Pavelka would choose to give his final rose to. The two women left in 'The most dramatic Bachelor season yet' couldn't be more opposite. The first, Tenley is a 'good on paper' girl. She looks perfect, acts perfect and seems like the safe choice. The other, Vienna is a controversial character who speaks her mind and never misses an opportunity to let loose and have fun. She seems more like a gamble, and the negative, tabloid coverage doesn't help. Jake ended up taking said gamble, which seemed to be the result of chemistry. Gotta love that love buzz.
So as the rest of the country logs onto online forums, and sits around talking about what an idiot Jake is for not picking the perfect catch, I sit here and nod my head in agreement with his decision.
Love Buzz - that undeniable chemistry you share with someone, that is almost electric. You don't choose to have a love buzz with a certain person; it's either there, or it's not. To put love buzz and chemistry into words is almost impossible, since it is a physical feeling. It's no wonder then, that - when faced with Tenley on the 'After the Final Rose Ceremony' special - Jake couldn't answer her closure-thriving questions as to why she wasn't the one.
Have you ever dated a guy that was great on paper, that you wanted - more than ever - to feel a connection with, but despite how much you were attracted to him, respected him and admired him, there was still 'something missing?' If so, you know how tough those situations are. Your friends and family are pressuring you to try to 'make it work,' yet you just know that as much as you want it to be the case, it just isn't. You go through the guilty thoughts (why am I letting so-and-so go when they haven't done a thing wrong and I'd be lucky to be with them) and then go through the guilty feelings when you've done so (am I making a mistake?)
You then meet someone else who you click with, and you no longer question your previous decisions. Perhaps the gamble (as I like to call it) is what creates this love buzz in the first place.
Have you ever dated someone who you had that something special with? That no one understood why you're 'settling' but to you, you're head over heels, high on the love buzz that you share? The love buzz is nothing anyone else but yourself can detect and when you feel it, you radiate on it and thrive off of it.
So yes, you may meet a doctor who makes you laugh and has the most perfect style (and wardrobe) but if he doesn't have that je ne sais quoi, then I suggest you go with your gut. Life is all about drawing outside of the lines. And Jake must feel the same way. He must so-very-badly have wanted to make himself like Tenley, but at the end of the day, his gut and heart knew that Vienna is the one he feels connected to. So, the lesson of this seasons bachelor is to embrace the chemistry that is rare to find and don't let it go, even if everyone is rooting for you to.
So as the rest of the country logs onto online forums, and sits around talking about what an idiot Jake is for not picking the perfect catch, I sit here and nod my head in agreement with his decision.
Love Buzz - that undeniable chemistry you share with someone, that is almost electric. You don't choose to have a love buzz with a certain person; it's either there, or it's not. To put love buzz and chemistry into words is almost impossible, since it is a physical feeling. It's no wonder then, that - when faced with Tenley on the 'After the Final Rose Ceremony' special - Jake couldn't answer her closure-thriving questions as to why she wasn't the one.
Have you ever dated a guy that was great on paper, that you wanted - more than ever - to feel a connection with, but despite how much you were attracted to him, respected him and admired him, there was still 'something missing?' If so, you know how tough those situations are. Your friends and family are pressuring you to try to 'make it work,' yet you just know that as much as you want it to be the case, it just isn't. You go through the guilty thoughts (why am I letting so-and-so go when they haven't done a thing wrong and I'd be lucky to be with them) and then go through the guilty feelings when you've done so (am I making a mistake?)
You then meet someone else who you click with, and you no longer question your previous decisions. Perhaps the gamble (as I like to call it) is what creates this love buzz in the first place.
Have you ever dated someone who you had that something special with? That no one understood why you're 'settling' but to you, you're head over heels, high on the love buzz that you share? The love buzz is nothing anyone else but yourself can detect and when you feel it, you radiate on it and thrive off of it.
So yes, you may meet a doctor who makes you laugh and has the most perfect style (and wardrobe) but if he doesn't have that je ne sais quoi, then I suggest you go with your gut. Life is all about drawing outside of the lines. And Jake must feel the same way. He must so-very-badly have wanted to make himself like Tenley, but at the end of the day, his gut and heart knew that Vienna is the one he feels connected to. So, the lesson of this seasons bachelor is to embrace the chemistry that is rare to find and don't let it go, even if everyone is rooting for you to.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
I'm &*%@!*# Sidney Crosby
Oh what it would be to be the most admired man in Canada at this very moment. The nation is going crazy in cheer-ridden, awe-stricken glory cheering for Sid the Kid. Voices around the nation are chanting 'Crosby, Crosby, Crosby!' in harmony. And beg my pardon, but I most certainly wish I were too...in the bedroom.
I'm *&*^$#)! Sidney Crosby. Not really. But when I fall asleep and close my eyes to dream a dream - like the rest of the female (and dare I say some of the male) population tonight - I just might be.
I'm wowed. And I have been since the puck that changed the score from 2-2 to 3-2 for Team Canada went past Miller. It all seems so surreal. So perfect. So cliche. You know those cheesy movies that boast a male lead character that women want to get with and men want to be. The living legend of said character is none other than the man of the hour, Crosby. A man who made our dreams come true on home ice. Who - in overtime - managed to take a beautiful shot, inviting the rest of the team to jump on him as their dreams too had been answered. So, as we sit, and honk, and scream our highly-pitched twentysomething voices off, somewhere out there is Mr. Crosby himself, in a God like state, celebrating in his own way.
I wonder what he is doing? Where he is? Does he feel the same intensity and adrenaline that we are all breathing? Is he on a plane now concerning himself about the race to the Stanley Cup and that goal is but a moment of his past? Does he know the peace and sense of unity he has brought upon so many of us, just by having another day on the job?
For the past five hours my thoughts have had the background track of constant horns, cheering, and sheer joy over a sport that unites us all. So as we bask and glow in all that Canada is, I thought now would be as an important time as ever to breach on the subject of The Puck Bunny. Yes you blonde, bronzed ladies out there. I'm breaking the ice on this topic of intrigue.
Puck bunny: a woman who hooks up with a hockey player, for no other reason than the fact that he is a hockey player. Hockey players have a notorious rap for having hot, blonde wives at home, who cheer them on when they are on home ice. But when they set off to different cities they tend to have girlfriends on the side (re: puck bunny's) who are perfectly ok with this arrangement. Think what a groupie is to a rockstar.
Hockey players: hot, fit men with rough-around-the-edges injuries that make them that much more masculine and sexy to us. They are admired by their city and have fans who would do anything for a simple autograph. And you get to bed the sucker. The appeal of a hockey player is definitely not tough to figure out. If he's a fighter - even better. There is nothing like watching the guy you're dating sweat it out on the ice, win his team the game and then go home to see just the same. Energy. Aggression. Sweat. Score.
But if you are going to tie up your skates and hop into the game, be sure to do it safely (morally and physically). Here are some tips:
- the younger the better. Hockey players tend to get married earlier than most. The younger he is, the less of a chance he has a wife (and family) at home. If you choose to entertain the puck bunny idea, don't involve other people.
- too young, not so great either. Last summer I was out at a supper club and I managed to catch the eye of an adorable blonde boy. Lucky him. A guy friend of mine came over and asked if he could take a picture of me and this guy, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes thinking my buddy wanted to make fun of me come morning. Then a promoter I knew came over and had his photographers take some images of us as well. It wasn't until someone came over congratulating him on winning the MVP award that I realized who it was. Needless to say - though I entertained it for but a second - I rejected this 19 year olds invite to go home with him, and drowned my cradle-robbing sorrows in a hot dog and a night cap. How fitting.
- come to terms with the nature of long distance. Since this guy is flying to a different city every other day, you need to feel ok with this schedule, and ok with the lifestyle he lives.
There are a number of famous blonde, bronzed, twentysomething celebrities who have dabbled in the hockey player pool. This includes (but isn't limited to): Elisha Cuthbert (both with Sean Avery and Dion Phinaef), Carrie Underwood, Hilary Duff, Kellie Pickler.
I'm going to sign off, doodle the initials "JC" on some paper, and hop into bed. Go Canada Go.
xoxoxo
- Mrs. Crosby
I'm *&*^$#)! Sidney Crosby. Not really. But when I fall asleep and close my eyes to dream a dream - like the rest of the female (and dare I say some of the male) population tonight - I just might be.
I'm wowed. And I have been since the puck that changed the score from 2-2 to 3-2 for Team Canada went past Miller. It all seems so surreal. So perfect. So cliche. You know those cheesy movies that boast a male lead character that women want to get with and men want to be. The living legend of said character is none other than the man of the hour, Crosby. A man who made our dreams come true on home ice. Who - in overtime - managed to take a beautiful shot, inviting the rest of the team to jump on him as their dreams too had been answered. So, as we sit, and honk, and scream our highly-pitched twentysomething voices off, somewhere out there is Mr. Crosby himself, in a God like state, celebrating in his own way.
I wonder what he is doing? Where he is? Does he feel the same intensity and adrenaline that we are all breathing? Is he on a plane now concerning himself about the race to the Stanley Cup and that goal is but a moment of his past? Does he know the peace and sense of unity he has brought upon so many of us, just by having another day on the job?
For the past five hours my thoughts have had the background track of constant horns, cheering, and sheer joy over a sport that unites us all. So as we bask and glow in all that Canada is, I thought now would be as an important time as ever to breach on the subject of The Puck Bunny. Yes you blonde, bronzed ladies out there. I'm breaking the ice on this topic of intrigue.
Puck bunny: a woman who hooks up with a hockey player, for no other reason than the fact that he is a hockey player. Hockey players have a notorious rap for having hot, blonde wives at home, who cheer them on when they are on home ice. But when they set off to different cities they tend to have girlfriends on the side (re: puck bunny's) who are perfectly ok with this arrangement. Think what a groupie is to a rockstar.
Hockey players: hot, fit men with rough-around-the-edges injuries that make them that much more masculine and sexy to us. They are admired by their city and have fans who would do anything for a simple autograph. And you get to bed the sucker. The appeal of a hockey player is definitely not tough to figure out. If he's a fighter - even better. There is nothing like watching the guy you're dating sweat it out on the ice, win his team the game and then go home to see just the same. Energy. Aggression. Sweat. Score.
But if you are going to tie up your skates and hop into the game, be sure to do it safely (morally and physically). Here are some tips:
- the younger the better. Hockey players tend to get married earlier than most. The younger he is, the less of a chance he has a wife (and family) at home. If you choose to entertain the puck bunny idea, don't involve other people.
- too young, not so great either. Last summer I was out at a supper club and I managed to catch the eye of an adorable blonde boy. Lucky him. A guy friend of mine came over and asked if he could take a picture of me and this guy, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes thinking my buddy wanted to make fun of me come morning. Then a promoter I knew came over and had his photographers take some images of us as well. It wasn't until someone came over congratulating him on winning the MVP award that I realized who it was. Needless to say - though I entertained it for but a second - I rejected this 19 year olds invite to go home with him, and drowned my cradle-robbing sorrows in a hot dog and a night cap. How fitting.
- come to terms with the nature of long distance. Since this guy is flying to a different city every other day, you need to feel ok with this schedule, and ok with the lifestyle he lives.
There are a number of famous blonde, bronzed, twentysomething celebrities who have dabbled in the hockey player pool. This includes (but isn't limited to): Elisha Cuthbert (both with Sean Avery and Dion Phinaef), Carrie Underwood, Hilary Duff, Kellie Pickler.
I'm going to sign off, doodle the initials "JC" on some paper, and hop into bed. Go Canada Go.
xoxoxo
- Mrs. Crosby
Friday, February 26, 2010
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
The book 'He's Just Not that Into You' was made into a movie for reason. And no, that reason wasn't because there weren't any more copies on book shelves (though I wouldn't be shocked if that were the case.) This blunt book and now movie is based on the concept that if you have to wonder whether the guy is into you or not, chances are, he's not.
Us ladies spend many a coffee dates and phone chats with our fellow scorned female friends, analyzing and obsessing over words said and/or texted, as we try to find meaning behind what the guy of our fancy really means and whether he ultimately likes us. I have spent countless hours with countless friends, studying every word, glance, and amount of ring tones the guy allowed before picking up the phone (if he picked it up at all) and it isn't pretty. So yes, the book is out there and the movie allows us to observe first hand how obvious a man's lack of actions are, however us daydreamers can't seem to stop making up excuses for so and so. So here I sit, in a state of bluntness, with a clear goal of getting this crucial message across.
Still wondering if the guy on your radar has you on his? Stop pulling the petals off a flower saying 'He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not' to see what the outcome is. Trust me, the flower - like magic 8 balls, and your friends - doesn't have the answer. However, I do and I'll make it nice and clear. Want to know if he's into you? Read on...
- If x messages you to make a set plan when sober, he loves you. If x message you drunkenly 'after hours', he loves you not.
- If x buys you a drink at the bar (and also waits outside the women's washroom for you as he holds your drink), he loves you. If x ignores you at the bar all night, then asks you to leave with him, he loves you not.
- If x answers your calls when you call him and responds to your text/pins right away (and also initiates communication), he loves you. If x never answers your calls and always lets them go to voicemail and doesn't respond to your text/pins for a couple days, he loves you not.
- If x says he wants to take you out for dinner and drinks and actually follows through, he loves you. If x says he wants to take you our for dinner and drinks and it never actually comes into fruition, he loves you not.
- If x messages you all the time and also hangs out with you, he loves you. If x messages you all the time but you never see each other in person, he loves you not.
- If x surprises you with something that you love like your Starbucks order or a bag of your favourite Jelly Belly's (aww he remembered!), he loves you. If x never surprises you or just brings you something that he likes, he loves you not.
- If x takes you out for a meal of food to a restaurant frequented by other people you guys know, he loves you. If x orders in food to his place or takes you to a random resto in the middle of nowhere, he loves you not.
- If x compliments you on something unique about your personality (especially something you view as a flaw) he loves you. If x compliments you on a body part or revealing clothing, he loves you not.
- If x is single and is spending time after work and on weekends with you, he loves you. If x is in a relationship with someone else and is still in talks with you, he loves you not.
- If x sends you emails with places or events that he thinks you'll like and then makes plans to go to them with you, he loves you. If x send you emails with places or events that he thinks you'll like and then just leaves it at that, he loves you not.
- If x brings you out with his friends, he loves you. If x's friends don't even know you exist and/or are unable to describe what you look like, he loves you not.
- If x takes off his jacket/scarf/mittens in the freezing cold because you are shivering (even if he is too), he loves you. If x doesn't even offer to warm you up, he loves you not.
- If x gives you a key to his place, he loves you. If x hasn't ever invited you over, he loves you not.
- If x tells you he wants to kiss you, then does, he loves you. If x tells you he wants to kiss your luscious lips, so you lean in and he pulls away, he loves you not.
- If x picks you up so you don't get your peep-toe ankle boots wet (and he doesn't ridicule you for wearing peep-toe shoes in the dead of winter), he loves you. If x makes you trek through the blizzardy snow foregoing a cab because he only lives four blocks away, he loves you not.
Despite reading this do you still think he may love you, when friends tell you he loves you not? Put down that flower and instead use your fingers to drop me a line at blondebronzedtwentysomething@hotmail.com and I'd be glad to help put your worrisome mind at ease.
- Jenny Jen
Us ladies spend many a coffee dates and phone chats with our fellow scorned female friends, analyzing and obsessing over words said and/or texted, as we try to find meaning behind what the guy of our fancy really means and whether he ultimately likes us. I have spent countless hours with countless friends, studying every word, glance, and amount of ring tones the guy allowed before picking up the phone (if he picked it up at all) and it isn't pretty. So yes, the book is out there and the movie allows us to observe first hand how obvious a man's lack of actions are, however us daydreamers can't seem to stop making up excuses for so and so. So here I sit, in a state of bluntness, with a clear goal of getting this crucial message across.
Still wondering if the guy on your radar has you on his? Stop pulling the petals off a flower saying 'He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not' to see what the outcome is. Trust me, the flower - like magic 8 balls, and your friends - doesn't have the answer. However, I do and I'll make it nice and clear. Want to know if he's into you? Read on...
- If x messages you to make a set plan when sober, he loves you. If x message you drunkenly 'after hours', he loves you not.
- If x buys you a drink at the bar (and also waits outside the women's washroom for you as he holds your drink), he loves you. If x ignores you at the bar all night, then asks you to leave with him, he loves you not.
- If x answers your calls when you call him and responds to your text/pins right away (and also initiates communication), he loves you. If x never answers your calls and always lets them go to voicemail and doesn't respond to your text/pins for a couple days, he loves you not.
- If x says he wants to take you out for dinner and drinks and actually follows through, he loves you. If x says he wants to take you our for dinner and drinks and it never actually comes into fruition, he loves you not.
- If x messages you all the time and also hangs out with you, he loves you. If x messages you all the time but you never see each other in person, he loves you not.
- If x surprises you with something that you love like your Starbucks order or a bag of your favourite Jelly Belly's (aww he remembered!), he loves you. If x never surprises you or just brings you something that he likes, he loves you not.
- If x takes you out for a meal of food to a restaurant frequented by other people you guys know, he loves you. If x orders in food to his place or takes you to a random resto in the middle of nowhere, he loves you not.
- If x compliments you on something unique about your personality (especially something you view as a flaw) he loves you. If x compliments you on a body part or revealing clothing, he loves you not.
- If x is single and is spending time after work and on weekends with you, he loves you. If x is in a relationship with someone else and is still in talks with you, he loves you not.
- If x sends you emails with places or events that he thinks you'll like and then makes plans to go to them with you, he loves you. If x send you emails with places or events that he thinks you'll like and then just leaves it at that, he loves you not.
- If x brings you out with his friends, he loves you. If x's friends don't even know you exist and/or are unable to describe what you look like, he loves you not.
- If x takes off his jacket/scarf/mittens in the freezing cold because you are shivering (even if he is too), he loves you. If x doesn't even offer to warm you up, he loves you not.
- If x gives you a key to his place, he loves you. If x hasn't ever invited you over, he loves you not.
- If x tells you he wants to kiss you, then does, he loves you. If x tells you he wants to kiss your luscious lips, so you lean in and he pulls away, he loves you not.
- If x picks you up so you don't get your peep-toe ankle boots wet (and he doesn't ridicule you for wearing peep-toe shoes in the dead of winter), he loves you. If x makes you trek through the blizzardy snow foregoing a cab because he only lives four blocks away, he loves you not.
Despite reading this do you still think he may love you, when friends tell you he loves you not? Put down that flower and instead use your fingers to drop me a line at blondebronzedtwentysomething@hotmail.com and I'd be glad to help put your worrisome mind at ease.
- Jenny Jen
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Go Canada Go
The ice glistens
It has just been cleaned
Wiping away the past
Preparing for the future
It solidly awaits the arrival
Twelve men, one motive
Only 5.5 ounces in weight, black in colour
It drops
Displaying the destiny of our country
Competition drips down their foreheads
Forming in precise, hopeful drops
Faster then their racing hearts,
Is the flow of their sharp blades
Zooming along the ice
Creating a soft, carving sound
Seldom heard over the cheering crowd
Who are as into the game
As the men on ice
Racing towards the puck, stick in hand
His job, reputation and country on the line
As his life flashes before his eyes
The puck is shot towards the net
Victory
Four men run toward him
Embracing in defeat
The crowd is overcome
Feeling championship in its purest sense
A goal fifty years in the making
The above was written in March 2002
- Jenny Jen
Monday, February 22, 2010
Confessions of a Soup Addict
'Kill me now,' I think as I pay way too much attention to my way too hurting throat. I've taken cough candies, tea, chicken soup, popsicles and advils (on occasion), with a side of sleep, and still, I feel just as viciously horrible as I did before I followed these 'old wives tales' orders of curing my pain. 'Poor me,' you think. And boy, do I conquer. Because although I try and find a quick fix, I know I have a good 5-7 days of having to put up with this. Oh, and that pinkishy i-don't-think-a-kleenex-convention-has-used-this-many-kleenex's-nose to boot. How sexy.
So aside from kvetching and whining (in a very unpleasant, almost scary, hoarse voice) I lay in bed and beg and plead to anyone that will listen to please help me feel better. I even logged onto my Facebook page and updated my status requesting Matzo Ball Soup and TLC to be had. I wanted it, I needed it. I went through an immense amount of my soup of choice in not so an immense of a time period (mere hours) and I got my dose of TLC and I still feel completely and utterly helpless.
My days of late tend to look as follows:
Wake up. Remember how sick I am. Feel bad for myself. Reach for the kettle currently placed on the night table to the right of my bed. Pour hot water in mug. Lay in bed. Get up and heat up chicken soup. Go back into bed. Ask someone else to heat up another bowl of soup. Finish it savouring each sip as if I were tasting the most amazing flavours known to man. Rest. Get all the way out of bed (the horror!) to heat up more soup. Realize it's done and get mad that the person who gave me my last bowl for not forewarning me it was my last. Google soup delivery. Wait by door in anticipation. Sleep. Repeat.
Not sure how healthy this new addiction of mine is, however, when I asked my doctor what I can take to ease my symptoms, she advised 'Matzo Ball Soup.'
Feeling as under-the-snowy-weather as I? Here is a list of the top 5 soups in the city:
5) Pusateri's Roasted Butternut Squash Soup. This soup is perfect for the bedridden girl, who wants to head to the supermarket, grab a soup on the go and head straight home to heat it up and crash. It comes in a glass jar and can be easily stored in your fridge. The soup is a bit thick, which means you'll definitely feel full after a bowl.
4) Studio Cafe's Sweet Onion Soup. Complete with chives and gruyere crouton, this soup lives up to the restaurant's five star rep, which is homed in the Four Seasons.
3) Barbarian's Frech Onion Soup. The steakhouse is no stranger to heavy on the flavour taste. This soup - though heavy - is as classic as they come, with thick mozzarella covering the bowl, you may not have any room for your medium-rare filet mignon.
2) Pickle Barrel's Matzo Ball Soup. With larger-than-life sized matzo balls, and that homemade chickeny flavour, it's no wonder this soup made it to number two.
1) Your bubbies Chicken Soup with Homemade Matzo Balls. If you just so happen to have a jewish grandmother who is still around, this will be - guaranteed - the best soup this city has to offer. So either get her to make you a whole pot (she'd be thrilled she could help in any way) or get her recipe and call in a favour to one of your besties. Oh and be sure to freeze any soup that you have left once said cold has been relieved. You can return the favour to your friend if the situation reverses.
Happy sniffling (insert eye roll and two coughs here).
- Jenny Jen
So aside from kvetching and whining (in a very unpleasant, almost scary, hoarse voice) I lay in bed and beg and plead to anyone that will listen to please help me feel better. I even logged onto my Facebook page and updated my status requesting Matzo Ball Soup and TLC to be had. I wanted it, I needed it. I went through an immense amount of my soup of choice in not so an immense of a time period (mere hours) and I got my dose of TLC and I still feel completely and utterly helpless.
My days of late tend to look as follows:
Wake up. Remember how sick I am. Feel bad for myself. Reach for the kettle currently placed on the night table to the right of my bed. Pour hot water in mug. Lay in bed. Get up and heat up chicken soup. Go back into bed. Ask someone else to heat up another bowl of soup. Finish it savouring each sip as if I were tasting the most amazing flavours known to man. Rest. Get all the way out of bed (the horror!) to heat up more soup. Realize it's done and get mad that the person who gave me my last bowl for not forewarning me it was my last. Google soup delivery. Wait by door in anticipation. Sleep. Repeat.
Not sure how healthy this new addiction of mine is, however, when I asked my doctor what I can take to ease my symptoms, she advised 'Matzo Ball Soup.'
Feeling as under-the-snowy-weather as I? Here is a list of the top 5 soups in the city:
5) Pusateri's Roasted Butternut Squash Soup. This soup is perfect for the bedridden girl, who wants to head to the supermarket, grab a soup on the go and head straight home to heat it up and crash. It comes in a glass jar and can be easily stored in your fridge. The soup is a bit thick, which means you'll definitely feel full after a bowl.
4) Studio Cafe's Sweet Onion Soup. Complete with chives and gruyere crouton, this soup lives up to the restaurant's five star rep, which is homed in the Four Seasons.
3) Barbarian's Frech Onion Soup. The steakhouse is no stranger to heavy on the flavour taste. This soup - though heavy - is as classic as they come, with thick mozzarella covering the bowl, you may not have any room for your medium-rare filet mignon.
2) Pickle Barrel's Matzo Ball Soup. With larger-than-life sized matzo balls, and that homemade chickeny flavour, it's no wonder this soup made it to number two.
1) Your bubbies Chicken Soup with Homemade Matzo Balls. If you just so happen to have a jewish grandmother who is still around, this will be - guaranteed - the best soup this city has to offer. So either get her to make you a whole pot (she'd be thrilled she could help in any way) or get her recipe and call in a favour to one of your besties. Oh and be sure to freeze any soup that you have left once said cold has been relieved. You can return the favour to your friend if the situation reverses.
Happy sniffling (insert eye roll and two coughs here).
- Jenny Jen
Friday, February 19, 2010
The Women's Washroom Chronicles
'Come with me to the washroom', we beg and plead with our female friend of choice, scared to take on the crowd and perhaps awkward run ins that may ensue. The friend of choice comes (after a good eye roll and a check in the nearest reflection.) We sigh and take in a breath of relief, with a knowingness that we are no longer alone. As we walk away into the mystical women's washroom, we are suddenly confronted with more than we were looking for.
Why is it, that all the drama is acted out in a room smaller then my walk-in closet? How is it - I ask - that we overhear way more then we asked for, when we were solely just responding to our way too obscenely, tiny bladders? The answer my friends; our fellow women. That's right. If a blonde, bronzed, twentysomething enters onto the set of a public washroom, drama is to be had. Note to my male readers: This is why we don't enter said scene alone.
You know those overly, typical teen movies where you hear a couple of catty bitches bashing up a storm, and then the camera closes up on the woman in the stall? Screw teen movies, there are even Sex and The City episodes where that situation is played out. Unfortunately, in regards to the women's washroom chronicles, you hear anything and everything. To the persons date, to their sex life, to their ex to their hatred for that hottie with a body who said but a mere hi to their man - girls in the washroom bring it on in every sense of the phrase.
I've walked in on the most obscure conversations. I've heard girls chastising their men for even glancing at a female friend. I've heard girls crying that so-and-so's ex has arrived at the bar. I've heard girls complaining that their tits are too small and their heart is too big. At the end of the day, I've decided to start using the men's facilities. Not only is the line up shorter, but I don't go home (breathing deeply) worrying about someone else's issues, nor do I go home feeling terrible about myself. I also get somewhat of a rise using the men's washroom. It's risque and it almost always guarantee's a deep-voiced bouncer knocking on the stall door and asking to please remove myself from the males washroom. Talk about a rush! Oh, and not to add, nothing beats - with but a glance of my YSL trib too's - my male friend's shouting out 'Jenny Jen, my girl. is that you?' when they notice the 4.5 inches peering out of the bottom of the only stall.
The women's washroom in any public setting is - in my hazel eyes - comparable to a confessional at a church. And as a predominantly happy and confident twentysomething, I'd rather hear no evil, see no evil.
So, as I sign off on this post, I have but a few reminders for my fellow female friends:
- never assume the person you are talking about isn't listening; life has a very interesting and backstabbing way of working out and more so then not, they are in fact in that singular stall next to you.
- don't say anything in a washroom that you wouldn't say in your facebook status, You never know who is listening and who is going to share this on a public domain. If what you have to say is personal and you want to get it off your chest, type it out in a Blackberry Note or text yourself. Once you've woken up in the morning, judge if you want to share it with a close friend to get their opinion.
- respond instead of react. Don't over exaggerate. Take any situation for what it is and look at it from an outsiders point of view. If you take time to respond and not listen to your bodies natural reactions, chances are, you'll feel much better (and make less of a fool of yourself) in the washroom.
- lastly, just go alone. As tempting as it is to invite a friend, flying solo will force you to keep your lips sealed and though it seems challenging at the time, chances are you'll be more thankful come morn.
xoxo
- Jenny Jen
Why is it, that all the drama is acted out in a room smaller then my walk-in closet? How is it - I ask - that we overhear way more then we asked for, when we were solely just responding to our way too obscenely, tiny bladders? The answer my friends; our fellow women. That's right. If a blonde, bronzed, twentysomething enters onto the set of a public washroom, drama is to be had. Note to my male readers: This is why we don't enter said scene alone.
You know those overly, typical teen movies where you hear a couple of catty bitches bashing up a storm, and then the camera closes up on the woman in the stall? Screw teen movies, there are even Sex and The City episodes where that situation is played out. Unfortunately, in regards to the women's washroom chronicles, you hear anything and everything. To the persons date, to their sex life, to their ex to their hatred for that hottie with a body who said but a mere hi to their man - girls in the washroom bring it on in every sense of the phrase.
I've walked in on the most obscure conversations. I've heard girls chastising their men for even glancing at a female friend. I've heard girls crying that so-and-so's ex has arrived at the bar. I've heard girls complaining that their tits are too small and their heart is too big. At the end of the day, I've decided to start using the men's facilities. Not only is the line up shorter, but I don't go home (breathing deeply) worrying about someone else's issues, nor do I go home feeling terrible about myself. I also get somewhat of a rise using the men's washroom. It's risque and it almost always guarantee's a deep-voiced bouncer knocking on the stall door and asking to please remove myself from the males washroom. Talk about a rush! Oh, and not to add, nothing beats - with but a glance of my YSL trib too's - my male friend's shouting out 'Jenny Jen, my girl. is that you?' when they notice the 4.5 inches peering out of the bottom of the only stall.
The women's washroom in any public setting is - in my hazel eyes - comparable to a confessional at a church. And as a predominantly happy and confident twentysomething, I'd rather hear no evil, see no evil.
So, as I sign off on this post, I have but a few reminders for my fellow female friends:
- never assume the person you are talking about isn't listening; life has a very interesting and backstabbing way of working out and more so then not, they are in fact in that singular stall next to you.
- don't say anything in a washroom that you wouldn't say in your facebook status, You never know who is listening and who is going to share this on a public domain. If what you have to say is personal and you want to get it off your chest, type it out in a Blackberry Note or text yourself. Once you've woken up in the morning, judge if you want to share it with a close friend to get their opinion.
- respond instead of react. Don't over exaggerate. Take any situation for what it is and look at it from an outsiders point of view. If you take time to respond and not listen to your bodies natural reactions, chances are, you'll feel much better (and make less of a fool of yourself) in the washroom.
- lastly, just go alone. As tempting as it is to invite a friend, flying solo will force you to keep your lips sealed and though it seems challenging at the time, chances are you'll be more thankful come morn.
xoxo
- Jenny Jen
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