Happy Mother's Day Mom.

I love my mom. Yes, I know, most do, but I happen to know many who don't.. so I have to acknowledge the fact that I think my mom is pretty awesome.

My mom is a lovely little woman. She's very cute. She's Irish and Scottish and very Catholic. She used to be a nurse before I was born.. then stayed home to raise three girls. She was not the type of mom to raise a hand to her children (that was still okay then... remember, I'm old..) but she broke plenty of wooden spoons on the kitchen counter illustrating her point.

My mother is nice. Like, really really nice. Rarely says a bad word about anyone .. and if she does, you know they really deserve it. I am really not too sure where I get my obvious mean streak from. She's "Switzerland".. if any of the sisters get into a fight, she stays out of it.. as much as she can. Mom also had this habit of never ever criticizing a boyfriend.. not to say we brought home a stellar bunch.. on the contrary. If she DIDN'T like the guy, she'd FOR SURE keep her mouth shut. She always figured she'd either drive us closer or if we had a fight with the guy and she called buddy names.. what if we got back together.. then we'd be mad at her, not him. Smart lady.

My mother is also super funny.. she laughs easily and is quick to kid. My sister and I tend to mock our mother a lot. In high school, we had our friends convinced that our mother worked at the strip club under the name "Fat Fanny Farkle". Our friends also somehow thought our mother was an Italian woman dressed all in black with a tray of sandwiches. We are a misleading bunch.

The funniest thing my mother ever said was when my daughter was about 3 and had taken her diaper off and was running around.. my father said "nice girls don't run around with their pants off... " and my little Catholic mother said "that's not what he told me..." That STILL makes me laugh!

One of the things I love most about my mom is that I think she taught me how to be a good mom.. at least I think I'm a pretty decent mom...my kids ARE still speaking to me although I've yet to see my breakfast in bed. (Note: I hate breakfast in bed. Coffee - OK.. toast and stuff. messy. I can live without it.)

When I was about 4 I remember thinking I wanted to do something nice for my mom so I decided to bake her a cake. I quietly went into the kitchen at 6am and combined OXO bouillion cubes, water, Nestle's Quik and other magical ingredients to somehow miraculously congeal into a delcious chocolate cake. Apparently I was not as stealth as I thought, as my mother came in and was "very cross" (that's my mom's expression) with me for waking people up and making a mess. I had to go sit in my room. I was horribly unimpressed with my mother, for whom I was merely trying to do something special.

Flash forward about 25 years later and my beautiful daughter is toddling about. I was talking on the phone with someone.. until I noticed a great quantity of Comet cleanser running all the way up the stairs.. and into the bathroom. Where I found my precious looking ever so proud of herself for "helping". An entire jumbo can of cleanser.. wasted. However, I didn't get mad... because I "got" it. I knew she thought she had done something good.

Mind you, flash forward another 5 years and my lovely young son is about 4.... and has been warned to not eat on the couch. The brand new beautiful couch which I've had for about a month. So of course I'm off doing something and return to find my son "cleaning" the couch with Fantastik Bleach Cleaner... he had spilled milk. The couch was ruined. And I lost it. I was soooo upset. I still feel badly for my initial reaction.. I finally had to go upstairs and leave the room until I calmed down. Sure, I had a right to be upset... but... it was just a couch. I'm still embarassed for getting as upset as I did. It was .. and still is.. just a couch. It now just sports a decorative throw ...

On many occasions, as a mother, I've asked myself what my mother would do. Sure, you ask yourself.. she can't be THAT great, after all, what happened to you? Well, I will reassure you that she not only tried her best, but my sisters are upstanding pillars of society and terrific moms as well. I'm just the black sheep. But I'm sure you guessed that.

My mom and I didn't get along for a while when I was about 19. I came home from the bar (on the bus) and we had a fight.. one of those "my house my rules" kind of things. I was 19 and thought I knew everything. My mom came home after shopping the next day and I was gone. Moved out. And didn't tell her where I was for a week. But the time I lived away from home I learned to appreciate my mom.. and she learned to appreciate me too. By the time I moved back.. we got along great.

When I got my first full time job, that Christmas I bought my mom a birthstone ring. I just wanted to get her something really nice for everything I'd put her through (there is far too much to go into here, but let's just leave it at rowdy teenage behaviour including boyfriend crap, drinking, getting suspended and causing my poor mother undue heartache. There was no jail time. Enough said.)

My mom and I used to spend a day a week together.. hanging out.. lunching. But, then I moved away.. got married, had kids. And we never seem to see each other enough, but we have some great phone conversations. She is ALWAYS there for me.. through moving, job loss, marriage, childbirth, divorce, moving, job loss.. more moving.. never ends. I know my little Irish Catholic mother prays for me .. and all her family every night.. and if anyone's prayers are going to be heard, they will be my mom's.

My daughter is now 19.. and thankfully.. we get along. It hasn't always been that way.. we certainly have our moments. My son will be 14 soon. And we've pretty much always gotten along. My kids are very smart, talented and good looking (if I do say so myself). They are respectful to others, kind, helpful, lovely kids. I'm proud of them. They make it easy to love being a mom. And I think that at least part of the reason they are, is that I learned to be a pretty good mother from my mother.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you. xoxoxox

p.s. Yes, me and my children also turned out so great because of my father and my childrens' father. Father's Day isn't till June. They'll have to wait for the glory. Sheesh.

Life: Shoot. Just thought of something.. now I have to let my mom read the blog today. Uhoh.
Love: I love my mom. She is pretty cool.
Pants: I did not get my mother pants for Mother's Day. Shhhh!

Clothes Make the Man...er, Woman.

I wore my gym pants to the mall today. Several sales ladies gave me the once over (and I'm pretty sure one alerted security)...

As I was looking for Mother's Day gift for my mom I was in "nicer" stores than I usually shop.. and I was in my sweaty gym clothes.. one of my AC/DC tee shirts...wet hair (it was raining).. and overall looking pretty .. not good.

I was in Winners and looked in the mirror.. I actually looked pretty bad... no wonder clerks are looking at me suspiciously.. they think I'm homeless.... or worse yet, that I buy all my clothes at discount outlets...

Here's the conundrum. First off.... I hate shopping for clothes. I am SOOOO not a girl that way. I would like things to "jump out" at me. Ideally, I would like someone to just bring clothes to me that fit perfectly and look great on me. Consequently, my wardrobe is not ...... high fashion, shall we say. In fact, I think Stacey and Clinton from "What Not to Wear" will be on my doorstep at any moment throwing out most of my wardrobe and forcing me to buy COLOURS. Or worse yet, corduroy. Or something with puffy sleeves and ruffles. Yikes.

The vast majority of my wardrobe is black. Even in the summer months I am the girl in the black capri pants and KISS tee shirt. I pretty much stick with 3 colours. Black, red and white. Once in a while a little dark purple might get thrown in. NEVER green -- St Paddy's day is the exception. I own ONE blue shirt. (I haven't worn blue since grade 7 when my sister told me I looked awful in blue. She was just trying to ensure I didn't wear her blue dress.) And as far as anything pastel goes.. not likely. Ok, a couple of tee shirts, but that's it.

I was told the other day that I don't dress like a forty freakin' five year old.. and I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not... I tend to wear a lot of tee shirt/jean combos when I'm not forced to dress to others' expectations (i.e. work environment, court hearing or what have you..) and things that I am comfortable in.

Mind you, I do have my moments when I dress a little better.. wearing a skirt or kilt or something pretty.. and generally low cut.. But thats not a daily occurence.

So when I have my choice, I like to just be.. comfy.. and honestly, I think it takes some guts to go to the mall in my sweats, no make up and bad hair. Mind you, I'm pretty sure this is affecting my ability to attract hot guys.. but as long as I'm comfy.. and happy...

Hmmm...maybe I should look into a makeover.. or quite possibly, an intervention..

Life: More on that later.

Love: I think I need to stop wearing the workout wear .. out.

Pants: Again. Just say no to the workout pants in public.

Sometimes the Wrong Number is the Right Number.

I dialed a wrong number today.

I misdialed.. and through checking the number, etc.. ended up chatting with a lovely gentleman on the phone. I think he was a little bit lonely and took the opportunity to have some human contact.

He started off by telling me that he often received misdialed calls as if you flip the last 2 numbers of a business number, you get him instead.. so people like me with little chubby carny hands (as mine have been called on occasion) sometimes hit the wrong buttons and call him instead.

I really hate when you dial a wrong number and someone is out and out rude about it. Seriously, you did not deliberately try to wreck their day or poison their puppy. You MADE AN ERROR. Jeepers. Some people. So since this man was being so pleasant, I was compelled to chat with him for a bit.

Through our conversation he told me that he had a bevy of health issues. He'd had 3 heart attacks due to a hereditary condition.. had had a quadruple bypass as a result... and he was only in his 50's. He hadn't worked in 17 years ever since he had been hit head on by a truck and was severely injured. He was hoping to move sometime soon because he lived in a really bad area of town.. there had been a lot of violence in his neighbourhood and at one point he had been mugged at gunpoint right outside his building.

His wife left him for a biker after he had his heart attacks as she just couldn't deal with it. After she left, he was diagnosed with leukemia, and he was currently undergoing chemo for it.. but things had taken a turn for the worse and it didn't look good.

The odd thing about this conversation was that he wasn't asking me to feel sorry for him.. He was merely telling me about himself. He went on to tell me that as long as he can still get around and he was "still kickin'" .. he'd keep doing what he does.. he's been volunteering with seniors since he stopped working.. among other volunteer positions. And generally just trying to be a productive part of society.

He wrapped up his story by telling me that he would keep going .. and that he wasn't checking out until he "was done punching his hole in the world". Then he told me that his name was Dan, and that he had had a good time chatting with me. I told him that I had had a good time talking with him. And I meant it.

I marvelled at his good spirits despite all the adversity that had been thrown his way. At one point in our conversation I had to stop speaking as I teared up during his story. What makes someone with so much perceived "bad" in his life still end up being so positive? And why does it always seem like some people who have so much perceived "good" in their lives never seem to be happy?

Well.. not sure about that I guess. I suppose it's all whether you look at the glass half full or half empty. But I do know one thing.. I have had challenges in my life, and I have let them get me down and sometimes nearly defeat me. But I've survived thus far.. and so has Dan. And he has had many more obstacles to face than I have. So I will try to follow Dan's example.. and keep punching my hole in the world.

Dan.. It was great to "meet" you.. that was the rightest wrong number I've ever dialed.

Life: Gotta get busy living.. or get busy dying.
Love: Nothing to report at this time. Although I have had a lot of interesting calls lately...
Pants: I could not locate my pants today. I had to wear another pair.

My Expiration Date...

I was asked out on a date. Yikes.

"Finally!" you say... "she's actually going to address the LOVE part of this damned blog!" Oh, I'm sure it's been weighing heavily on your mind.. (that, my friends, is sarcasm...)

Yes, a date. A boy asked me out. Hmmmm...

I really haven't "dated" much in my lifetime.. it's kind of strange. But then again I was married for a long time..then in a relationship for several years.

My first date was when I was 11 or 12. Chris-the-boy-next-door asked me to go see "TOMMY" with him. I agreed. It would be fun, plus, I would get to see the movie.. (this was during my huge crush on Elton John before I clued in that he was gay.) I was excited.. and suddenly extremely nervous. So I invited my sister and my 2 visiting cousins to come along. Then I made them sit between Chris and I. He was not impressed. Not an auspicious start to my dating career.

In high school no one had any money so "dates" weren't commonplace.. they mostly involved just hanging out in someone's rec room. My first "date" with my high school boyfriend was a Goddo concert .. at the Delta Theatre on Friday April 13th (Good Friday). After that we went out all through high school..and mostly just "hung out".

I really didn't go on a "real date" till college. And unfortunately, it was just as... successful.. as my very first date.

This fellow named James had a huge crush on me.. and he was nice enough, but I just did not feel the same way about him. But he was persistent and felt he could win me over. He literally BEGGED me to go out with him for his birthday. So I did.

James took me to a very nice restaurant and ordered a bottle of wine (Black Tower, as I recall.. this could have started my dislike of German wines..) which he did not drink because he was driving.. so it was all mine. And I accepted, graciously.

James meant well, but in reality, we had nothing to talk about. He was somewhat older than me having come back to college.. and I did not find him the least bit attractive. I'm not one to judge based solely on looks.. I'm a brain/personality girl.. but .. James was not up to the lowest of my standards. He was nice.. he brought me flowers, took me to a fancy restaurant.. etc. But he was about as entertaining as watching Dennis Rodman act. Or Paris Hilton sing. Yup, bad.

Therefore in order to entertain myself I played a little game of "let's finish all this wine". I think James got it in the hopes that the booze would lessen my inhibitions. The only thing it really accomplished was increasing my desire and ability to rule the conversation. It did not, however, increase my desire when it came time to say good night. James made a poorly executed attempt at trying to kiss me (this involved him attempting to use his full body weight of approximately 300 lbs to pin me to the front seat of his Dodge) to which I adamantly refused. Needless to say, there was no second date.

Some of the other spectacular one-offs from the dating highlight reel include

• a guy who took me to see E.T. and cried his eyes out.. and I did not.. never heard from him again.
• A fellow named Brian who somehow thought that uttering the phrase "all my friends are dead" was somehow a turn on. Then he proceeded to tell me how each of them had died. Creeeeeeeeeeepy...
• Diego - who thought that buying a girl an ice cream cone was sufficient reason for putting his hand up my skirt.
• A guy named Paul who thought it was impressive to show me how many shooters he could do. I wasn't impressed by the quantity and was even less impressed when he regurgitated them onto my shoes.
• Ronald McDonald - yes, his real name.. but he called himself "Kenny".. who thought himself a superstar and had to sing in my ear all night.
  

And the list goes on... nothing too traumatic or awful. Guys who expected me to pay. Guys who were just jerks. One guy who told me I was "bite-able" But mostly just a "not clicking" kind of thing. But I've had good dates too - the ex and I went to the movies and mini golfing on our first date.. Fernando and I went out for dinner. The "good" parts of both were the conversation.. that's what made it fun.

As I said, I'm a brain girl.. I like smart and funny.

After Fernando and I split, I wasn't ready to date for a while.. and yes, signed up for the online dating thing.. Only went out with 3 guys. Guy #1 was very very nice and we had a lovely time, but really had nothing in common. No spark. Not even close. Guy #2 and I met for some wings and beer... nice enough looking fellow.. was somewhat interesting to talk to but.... nothing. Never talked again. Guy #3 and I agreed that there wasn't a connection, but have remained friends.

So it's with all these "not so great" dating experiences under my belt that I'm not.. "looking for love". I don't go out of my way to meet guys. I think I have a few other more pressing things to worry about at the moment. I came to realize specifically with the online thing that most guys my age are looking for girls HALF my age.. so it's a wee bit disheartening. Therefore it was surprising to be asked out this week. Flattering.. kind of fun. He's a friend of a friend.. and we've been chatting online for a bit. And he apparently likes me. He reads my blog and thinks I'm funny and thinks I should stop flirting "with cute boy on the internet" and have a REAL date. So that's ....interesting...and I considered... but...

Long story short.. I said no. I just don't think of him in "that way". I don't really have a "type" .. but I just don't think he's even close. But here is the kicker. He says to me "well, you're not getting any younger you know..." Yup, cause I'm like a carton of 2% and might go bad at any time.

Needless to say... I think I'm still a ways off from my expiration date.... at least I hope so!

Life: I will know this week when I will be moving. To where.. ? That remains to be seen.
Love: See above.
Pants: Let's skip this one for now. They are all too big still.. but .. need to "get back on the horse". Maybe some yoga.

Windows Down, Volume Up....

I had to drive a lot this past weekend. One thing I discovered was that you can drive from Wasaga Beach to Barrie and only play two Meatloaf songs. "Bat Out of Hell" and "Paradise by the Dashboard Light".. He's longwinded.. I drive fast.

I noticed that my car is approaching the 12,000km mark and started thinking about where I had driven it since I got it in December... and realized it's mostly been from Barrie to Toronto to Kitchener to Hamilton to St. Catharine's. Mostly Barrie to KW. It all adds up. I've always put a lot of miles on my cars.

I love driving .. it gives me time to think and listen to music....LOUD. Strangely, I only got my licence when I was 21, even though I already knew how to drive. Growing up, Chris-the-boy-next-door, was 3 years older and got his licence promptly at 16. He'd take his parents Dodge Dart out in the evening with the excuse that he was going to his friend's across town. In reality, he was meeting me a street over and letting me drive the Dart in the hopes that I would make out with him. I was a tease.

At 16 I didn't bother getting my licence right away... we only had one car and I'd rarely get the chance to drive it, so I just didn't bother. Actually, we did have a second car - an old green Ford station wagon.. which stayed parked in the driveway. That vehicle I used.. often.. but not for driving purposes. On a couple of occasions my father caught me and my boyfriend Craig in the backseat .. in the driveway. Craig didn't drive either.. it was as close as we got to going "parking". My parents started locking the car and hiding the keys. Craig and I started making out somewhere other than my driveway.

Ironically, my first full time job out of college was as a traffic reporter at 820 CHAM in Hamilton. Each day I'd get up at the crack of stupid and take the bus to work.. do the morning reports.. sometimes take the bus home for a bit.. then bus it back downtown for afternoon traffic. I was kind of embarassed by the fact that I was reporting on traffic, yet didn't even drive. Then I was asked to start doing the all night show on air.. which meant I needed wheels. So at 21 I had to go get my driver's licence....and buy a car.

I took some driving lessons so that I could use the instructor's car.. I really didn't want to parallel park with my Dad's Chev Caprice Classic ... aka the boat. My driving test went well, and I got my licence on the first try... nothing exciting to report. However, my lovely friend Mark thought that this was somewhat amusing and apparently feared for his personal safety. Imagine my surprise when I heard my driving instructor being interviewed on the air... calmly reassuring the fine people of Hamilton that I was a good and safe driver and that they shouldn't flee the streets in terror, as per Mark's suggestion. (Please note that I have yet to extract revenge for this but could do so at any moment. Yes, I'm talking to you, Mark...)

My first vehicle was the 1985 Plymouth Horizon. I loved it. It was freedom to me.. The first day I had it my mother made me promise to stay off the highway.. and I promptly headed toward the QEW and the Skyway Bridge. I loved that car.. I would finish work at 6am and sometimes I'd just drive around for the hell of it.. just because I enjoyed it. I had plenty of adventures in my little car.. drove to Niagara Falls NY with my little sister and her friends ...stayed in a hotel and went partying.. (we told our mothers we went on rides and to the wax museum...) I drove to Sault Ste. Marie by myself.. and Sarnia in a snowstorm.. and Kemptville .. all for a boy. Then I married the boy and it was our "family car".. the one that we brought our first baby home in.

Then someone smashed it and I had to get a new one... A beautiful red Dodge Shadow. Which... someone stole after a few years... then I got it back only to be t-boned by a guy and cut out of it. Broke my hip and couldn't drive for a while. After that had a couple of vans... then drove company vehicles for 5 years.. until the company let me go.

So I had to get my own vehicle. And I chose the 2009 Hyundai Elantra. Red, of course. It reminds me a bit of the Shadow .. which I loved.. but hopefully I won't get cut out of this one...
But it also reminds me of the freedom that I feel when I drive.. Sure, I complain about it on occasion but for the most part.. I love driving with the windows down and the stereo cranked obscenely loud... everything from the Beatles to the Brides of Destruction...... I can go anywhere or do anything .. as long as I have wheels.

And I guess it's a good thing I like my little car.. as I may be living in it soon..LOL... at least it has A/C and a stereo.

Life: Just waiting to finalize the house deal.. keep ya posted.
Love: I love driving.
Pants: This area of my life is currently being neglected. Need to get back at it!

Hungry... Like the Wolf.

I think about food constantly.

If I'm not eating, I'm planning what I'll eat next. If I am eating, most of the time I'm savouring the flavours of what I am chewing and enjoying every minute of it. I sometimes think I enjoy food more than pretty much anything.. sex included. Which at this point in my life (i.e. relationship-less) it's a wonder I'm not tipping the scales at 300 lbs.

I spent 2 days last week eating nothing but cereal - Rice Krispies to be specific. I was feeling lazy since I had no one to cook for but myself... and went with convenience. Of course, whilst eating the cereal I was thinking of all the delicious things I COULD have made, but didn't. Yeah, I'm weird.

I think most peoples' love affair with food begins at an early age. I know mine did. My best food memories are those of my grandmother's cooking (sorry Mom)... Every year on my birthday, my grandmother would make me perogies and doughnuts. My grandmother made the most delicious doughnuts known to all humankind. Tim Horton's are giant blocks of wood or rock comparatively speaking. Krispy Kreme are flavourless hunks of deep fried crap compared to Grandma's. They were warm and light and delicious and covered in cinnamon and sugar. Honestly, I have a hard time eating doughnuts now. I've never been a fan since I have eaten the finest doughnuts ever made. Little pieces of heaven. She also made fabulous bread. Oh my. She and my grandfather had a bakery before my father was born and I guess she perfected her craft there.

Now, when most people think perogies, they think of those potato ones you get deep fried in bars and crap. Well.. those are not the Lithuanian perogies of my childhood. My grandmother would spend hours crafting (yes, I said CRAFTING) the finest perogies ever.. one batch potato with onion and cheese, the other batch ham. She would use a manual meat grinder to grind up the ham and make the delectable filling.. (stops typing to wipe drool). The perogies would then be boiled and served with melted butter. Delectable. I think this is my favourite food ever.

My cute little Irish-Scottish mother learned from her Lithuanian mother in law how to make the perogies and now it's a request for every birthday.. however the family has grown so large that it's tough to make as many perogies as is required .. it's an all day job. I know for fact as I, too, have learned how to make them from scratch (I haven't for a very long time though..). One of the first times I cooked perogies, I made them for my ex-husband's family at his parents house.. and it was a learning experience. My ex had extolled the virtues of the Lithuanian perogies and therefore there was much anticipation surrounding my dinner. Which was a huge and total flop.
I hadn't mastered the art of rolling the dough to the practically paper thin weight required.. and my delicious fillings were surrounded with tough, thick boiled dough that resembled cooked playdoh but lacking the flavour. *sigh* I have since learned the secrets and my perogies are pretty good.. not as good as Grandma's or Mom's.. but I don't have the years of practice... or the patience required for that matter.

I learned to cook at a very young age.. mostly by watching my mother and then experimenting myself. I remember showing a friend how to fry eggs and ham.. I was about 9.. and he marvelled at the fact that I could do that. At one point .. I was about maybe 12.. my aunts came to visit. I felt the need to make a lavish meal for them and insisted I cook. I vividly remember looking up all the fancy dishes that I had heard on tv and then made.. from scratch.. cheese souffle, asparagus with homemade hollandaise sauce, veal parmagiana and pasta. From what I recall, it was terrific. You thought there was going to be some hilarious story here, didn't you?

My sister and I went through a phase where we liked to bake and cook a lot.. specifically candy. We became expert brownie makers.. and learned how to cook things to the "soft ball" and "hard ball" stages. I think we spent an entire summer making fudge and penuche (a brown sugar fudge)... which probably explains why I don't often care for it now.. I ingested about 500 lbs of sugar that summer I'm sure. It's amazing we didn't become diabetic.

I don't think I actually have any foods I HATE.. when asked, I'll say cooked carrots, but I'll eat them.. growing up, I was not a huge fan of red meat as we seemed to eat roast every Sunday and I grew tired of it.. but it's all right now. I love brussell sprouts, broccoli, and all other green vegetables including spinach. I'll try anything.. not much I don't like as a result.

As a result of my love of food, I have become a pretty decent cook. Probably my best dishes are ones that I just have thrown together. I make a wicked Shrimp with Mango and Garlic.. I can make gnocchi from scratch... anything Italian I totally rock (apparently I was Italian in a past life).. and I make great bread. In fact, my father says I have inherited my grandmother's talent. And this I consider to be the best compliment ever..

I think I better go make something to eat.

Life: Things are in flux. I'll keep ya posted.
Love: I love food. It makes me happier than most other things.. LOL
Pants: I must not revert back to my candy making days otherwise they won't fit. Other then that.. going well.

If You THINK ... You Can Do It!

When I was in Saskatchewan, I met a really interesting man named Blake Emmons.

Blake's had a very adventurous life. He left home at 11. He's been in the military.. he's been a professional singer/songwriter, a game show host (aka my dream job) he hosted Chain Reaction.. and a television show host (Funny Farm.. the Canadian Hee Haw, so to speak) .. He has helped many people along the way .. using his celebrity status to help others through The Variety Club. Blake was awarded the Order of Canada not that long ago for those efforts. He really should write a book about his life.. but so many remarkable things have happened to him.. he's not sure people will believe him.

Prior to flying out to Saskatchewan, I was told that Blake was hosting the President's Dinner and that the SCMA would like Blake to do the seminar with me. To tell the truth, I didn't know who Blake was really.. I had heard OF him, but really didn't know that much. So I did what I do.. I Googled him. I got some information about him.. he has a Wikipedia entry... but didn't get too incredibly much about him. It was a little sparse.

So it was good to finally meet him on the Friday evening .. the organizers thought it would be cool if he and I got together to discuss the seminar. We ended up meeting.... talking for about 2 hours.

Blake told me just a fraction of his life story.. he's done a lot. He describes his life as "one incredible adventure after another". And he means it. From the little I know, his life has been filled with many hardships.. as have many others...but somehow, he's managed to turn that around and use those experiences to make something GOOD happen, help others and make his life richer in many ways.

When Blake and I talked, he discussed how he felt his life is guided by a higher power and he knew he was supposed to be in Saskatchewan this particular weekend. He hadn't found his "why" yet, but he would.

He also told me about the book he's written... "If you THINK.. You Can Do It!" It's his philosophy.. or one of them anyway.

If you think you can do it then do it you will.
And when you do do it you'll know when it's done,
That just in the doing is most of the fun.
What is the “it” that you wanted to do?
That you just didn't try, and you can't explain why?
Sit and think for a second, a minute, an hour.
When you do the things you do who gives you the power?

The book was written as a childrens' book.. aimed at encouraging children to TRY and to use the power of positive thinking.. however.. he told me that he'd heard from people who had given this to adults who said it was the push they needed. He promised to give me a copy the next day. And he did.

I've read books by various motivational speakers, positive thinkers and the like. Usually I get hyped up for a few days .. likely just a few hours.. but it doesn't have any long lasting effect. I eventually revert back to where I was. But reading Blake's book .. makes it sound so simple. And I think it truly is. If you truly believe in something.. in yourself.. you can do it. But if you don't even try, you'll never know.

Sometimes you may stumble. You may even fall.
But you'll get to the top in spite of it all.
Life will be all that you think it can be.
And all that you think will be all that you see.

Blake found out why he was supposed to be in Saskatchewan last weekend. And I think I did too. And I think I just saved about $3,000 in Tony Robbins seminars.....

Here is where you can buy Blake's book: If You THINK.. You Can Do It

I only put in a couple of verses from the book.. but regardless.. it's from "If You THINK... You Can Do It" by Blake Emmons, Pacific Institute Publishing. Seattle WA..all rights reserved and all that jazz.

Life: Interesting. Taking a lesson from Blake.. Just waiting for the next adventure
Love: We'll see. But I know it's out there!
Pants: Back at it this week. I think I can do it!