i can't believe you ate that!

Remember when you used to do something gross to a piece of candy, like rub it on the ground, and then offer it to someone? Usually this was done in groups, because it's funnier when other people are in on the joke. Then you'd watch and be like, "Ohh! I can't believe you ate that!!!" Right?

I was thinking about this today at work while I sat at my desk, in my lady bug costume, folding invoices and eating Hershey bars (little ones). Maybe I was thinking about my childhood because my mother had made this lady bug costume for me when I was five years old. I remember when I started to think that any time a classmate offered me something delicious, it must have been tampered with. Hey want a cookie? What did you do to it? was usually the response. Fool me once, shame on me. Shame me twice...shame on...oh wait... But, could you imagine doing that as an adult? Hey want a donut? What did you do to it? I swished it around in the toilet and then painstakingly dried it for a couple hours on a paper towel. We would only get more creative with time, but hopefully we've also matured enough not to feed our friends toilet donuts.

Just sayin'.

Hope you enjoyed Halloween and some adult-friendly candy.


i'm contemplating writing a story.

I have anxiety in the pit of my gut. And my heart is fluttering a bit...but I think that's more my afternoon coffee. I'm considering taking part in National Novel Writing Month (http://www.nanowrimo.org/), which happens throughout November, and would have me committed to writing a novel in a month. A novel. In a month. This is no small feat. And I'm pretty nervous to commit to something like this. (Ha.) Because I feel like there is a high risk of failure involved. Well, maybe not failure...but high risk of writing something really terrible! Maybe this is why writers have pseudonyms...so they can cover their butts if their book sucks. I don't know how to write a story! I just write about myself. (That sounds awful...but let's be real.) I guess I could do an autobiographical tale.

When I was little I loved to write stories...I should scan one and post it up here. My favourite follows the close, but unlikely, friendship of a rabbit and a fox. They are great friends. Until the end, when my last line states, "And then the fox ate the rabbit." Perhaps even better is reading the 'comments' section where my teacher and parents all express their shock at my choice of ending. There's a story-teller in me somewhere. With an ending like that, how can there not be?!

I'm reading this book by Stephen King, "On Writing", and he says as a writer you need to have writing goals for how much you want to write each day...and you need a room with a door, to lock yourself in until you've reached your daily goal. I share a room. So I'm not sure how this is going to work. Maybe I can make a writing studio out of a giant cardboard box and go sit in there for my writing time. Maybe I can write a novel about a girl who lives in a cardboard box. Meh, I'll figure it out. Hey, I'll let you know.

-Katinka Tattersall


Laura Gets a Hair Cut

I go get my hair trimmed yesterday. Trimmed. The stylist asks me what I want done. A trim, I say. Make it look nice. He starts giving me all these other options. No, I say. A trim, thank you. 

Hair dressers always assume that you want a dramatic change. I've had some dramatic changes and you know what they come with? Dramatic regrets. It's like most hair dressers are waiting for some eccentricity to walk through their door and ask for half their head to be shaved and the rest to be cornrowed and dyed teal. "Yesss! Yesss!" they cackle. Maybe I want to look just about the same as when I entered the salon, rather than having to later face my aghast friends as they chime in, wowwwww...........you chaaaanged your hairrrrrrr.......What do you think? When left with nothing positive to say it's reasonable to ask the victim what they think of their corrupt mess. It's not as forthright, but far more appropriate than other things I have swimming around in my head.

When I go to get my hair done, sometimes I feel like I'm attending a Roast Party for my hair. Your hair is damaged! It's dull! Drab! Have you thought of color? Highlights? Your hair is so dry that-

Literally, I go to the hair dresser and for the first few minutes they point out everything wrong with my hair. Sometimes they'll even take the condensed version and spread it out over the entire 45 minutes. I think they want me to feel so awful about myself that I'll crumble at their mercy and beg them to give me highlights. Well, I don't think so. I have become very defensive about my hair ever since the one time I had it highlighted. It was the result of a spa package I was gifted. The highlights were free! Again, that would be like kicking Freebie Man in the face. So I stressed, "Sun-kissed! No really, like the sun itself has lightly kissed my hair." I came out looking like Pepe le Pew. I vowed to leave my hair natural until I go grey, when I will become a blond like the rest of the women over 50.

One of my favourite things about getting a hair cut, is that they take that half hour to style my hair. That half hour I never take. And since there is so much product holding it all together, it lasts at least a couple days. Most people don't notice I even had a haircut. Just as it should be.


Canadian Thanksgiving! Eat More Lamb!


This past weekend was Canadian Thanksgiving, which is like American Thanksgiving, but I don't think it's about stealing land from Native Americans. And if it was, we would probably be more polite.

Canadians still eat most of the same food that Americans do, except we don't have that fizzy apple cider, or green bean casserole, or the jello that is only allowed to be eaten with dinner one day a year. My family added lamb to our repertoire this year, I guess because we didn't have enough food. I think we could have fed 20 people. Or 13 Marijans & Co.. There was so much food, in fact, that halfway through dinner my cousin leans over to me and asks if my mom made [the famous] sweet potato casserole. She had. It was still in the freezer. My mom had been so proactive in making it a week in advance that she forgot about it. But my mum is clever, and on tossing the casserole in the oven she dubbed the dish "Sweet Potato Crisp". And there was much rejoicing. We added it to our dessert course, which almost immediately followed our dinner course.

Ever since I can remember, our family has had eating competitions. Not gross, Man vs. Food, challenges, more slow and steady eating challenges. And often I won. I took pride in this...until I turned 19 and learned that gorging yourself on ice cream cake has its consequences. This Thanksgiving was Challenge: Lamb Chops. The cousin was dethroned in this event by the sister's BF...the cousin who consistently fills his plate almost entirely with meat. 

My kind-hearted mother bought some Tupperware containers so that my sister and I could bring some leftovers home the next day, but there were two problems. First, we had eaten most of the food so there wasn't much to bring home. Second, after one meal of leftovers the thought of ever eating a turkey dinner again made me want to hurl.

I was determined to eat nothing but soup and salad all week so that I would undo the damage that this weekend had caused. That went well until today. There was a dessert potluck at work, because apparently we hadn't eaten enough on the weekend (I didn't even mention that I had gone to the Cheesecake Factory the night before Thanksgiving dinner. Enough said.). I remember reading the headline, a while back, to an article entitled, "Is Your Job Making You Fat?". And while I was eating brownies and shortbread-wrapped Toblerone bar, I reflected on this article. I don't remember what it said, but I don't think it matters. I thought, "Yes, my job is making me fat." And so are holidays.

I guess that's why there are only a few in a year. Hopefully they balance out in the end. I'm eating salad for dinner.


Old Jewish Woman!

I know you're wondering if I ever got my free McDonald's McSpresso beverage. I predicted I would forget to redeem said coupon, and although this is not the case, it is not too far from the truth.

After work I go to the McDonald's by my train stop, which is filled with the most shady people I have ever seen in my neighbourhood. Go figure. And someone STEALS my coupon! No, that didn't happen. Could you imagine? No, no, no, the problem was that this particular McDonald's had no McCafe. No, McKidding! I then go home to get ready for my triple-threat - dancing, singing and Cirque du Soleil - audition and hope that there might be a McDonald's in the area. Why is it that the golden arches are everywhere until you despretely want one to be there? My coupon did expire. You just can't halt time. I left my audition that night after midnight, and one of my first thoughts after hiting the fridgid air was, "It's cold!", followed shortly by, "Ahhhh...my cooooooooouuupon...".

My audition was LONG! Almost five hours. Lots of waiting. Lots of uni kids. Lots of uni kids asking me what I was doing at their school. Although the experience began in horror as the waiting area sounded like a club and smelled of beer (Hello! I am an ac-tor from New York!), on entering the audition rooms the evening took a turn for the better. I sang, I danced (and actually somewhat followed choreography), and of course, acted. I had a moment during the monologue portion, in the midst of five male auditioners yelling out characters for me to impersonate - "Old Jewish Woman!" "Evil witch who is afraid of getting melted by water!" "Southern Cheerleader!" "Disfigured Sidekick!" - when it dawned on me - "EVEN MORE DISFIGURED!" - that in an audition setting, us actors will do nearly anything. "A fish that's just been caught and is wriggling around on the ground!" I didn't do that one...but I'm pretty sure I would have if they asked. It would have been funny. For them.

P.S. If you're wondering about the picture of Jack Nicholson at the top...I Google imaged "Actor" and this is the first image that came up. I wonder if he knows that about himself. Followed by: James Marsden, Matt LeBlanc, Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze. There you go, the best actors in the world.