Can you body check someone while wearing a tutu?

jeteForgive me if you end up with glitter on your keyboard after visiting my blog today. The Ad-libbed household spent last weekend at our first dance competition of the spring season, and I’m still trying to clean up.

Seriously, there’s glitter everywhere. It’s in the bathroom; it’s on the doorknobs; it’s in the car. Even the dog sparkles. Every room in our house looks like it’s been sprinkled with a light dusting of Tinkerbell poo.

But it can’t be helped. If you’ve ever seen a ballerina up close on a performance day, you know that glitter is a necessary part of every costume. It’s the frosting on the cake that consists of a two-hundred-dollar dress, a one-hundred-dollar pair of shoes, a thirty-dollar pair of tights specially designed to rip the moment they touch human skin, and enough layers of makeup and hair product to guard against accidental exposure to nuclear radiation. Continue reading

Me? Overthinking? Guilty as charged

Like all bloggers, occasionally I find myself trying to analyze my blog’s statistics.

I scrutinize the bar graphs, ponder the category rankings, and scratch my head at the search terms and referral lists, and I always end up with the same series of strange, unanswered questions:

  1. What is so special about one random post that causes it to get so many more (or so many less) likes and/or comments than a totally other random post?
  2. How is it possible that I consistently get so many visitors from Brazil?
  3. Why in the wide wide world of sports did someone type the words “doctor turtle porn now” into Google, and how the hell did that search lead them here?

The more I try to comprehend it, the less it all seems to make sense.

Upon closer inspection, sometimes I sense that my stats page is subliminally trying to send me a message.

Sometimes I sense that my stats page is subliminally trying to send me a message.

I have noticed one peculiar trend, however, and I’m curious to know if this happens to any other of my fine fellow bloggers out there. Continue reading

Kids versus cats: let’s do the math

A little while ago I wrote a post about the perils of giving a cat a pill. After reading it, a friend of mine laughed and told me that, given the choice, she’d rather have cats than kids because cats are much easier to deal with than toddlers.

A cat, she explained, is just as affectionate, is much less work, and will rarely try to insert grilled cheese sandwiches into the openings on expensive electronic devices.

As a person who has, at specific times in his life, owned both cats and toddlers, I respectfully disagree. In my mind, the similarities between the two cannot be ignored. For all you cat owners out there, here are some examples of why cats are exactly like toddlers:

Toddlers have diapers; cats have litter boxes.

Both are a lot like that unmarked Tupperware container that’s been hiding at the back of the refrigerator since last Thanksgiving – you’re not always sure what you’re going to find inside, but you’re quite certain it’s going to be ugly.

The more expensive a household object is, the more captivating it is to play with.

This rule also extends to all breakable antiques, every family heirloom, and any item that has a cord that plugs into an electrical socket. Continue reading

Four valuable life lessons reinforced by my running shoes

For Paleolithic man, running was an integral part of everyday life. Every morning cavemen would get out of bed, arm themselves with pointy sticks, and stay in shape by running around all day chasing something and trying to make it their dinner. This was the cavemen’s only way of keeping fit because, as many archaeologists have proven, there were hardly any 24-hour fitness centres open during the Pleistocene era.

Sometimes the cavemen’s potential dinner would suddenly decide that it didn’t want to be chased anymore, and it would angrily turn around and start chasing the cavemen. Then the terrified cavemen would have to scatter, sprint, duck, cover, roll, and generally climb the bejeezus out of anything and everything just to stay alive. This was the caveman equivalent of modern-day cross training.


These days though, most supermarkets are stationary, making them very easy to sneak up on, so I don’t have to chase my food to survive. I don’t even need to carry a pointy stick, even though it would definitely come in handy when fighting my way through a crowded Wal-Mart on a Saturday afternoon. This means that, unlike the cavemen, if I choose to spend a portion of my day running, I’m doing it for the sake of fun and recreation. Continue reading

Stan, you’re looking at a man with a plan

Pssst! Want to know a secret? I cheated on my blog today.

We never said we were exclusive, although I suppose it was implied. Still, I had a chance, so I took it.

Today I was a guest columnist HERE. You shouldn’t tell anybody, unless you have an overwhelming desire to tell everybody you know, then by all means feel free to do so.

I’m thrilled to tell you that there’s some big news on the horizon, so the move is part of a bigger plan, the minutiae of which I won’t bore you with right now. Suffice to say though, the main points look something like this:

  1. Rebrand myself and my blog, while simultaneously expanding my reader base.
  2. Do that professional publishy thing.
  3. Retire to an island that has the word Saint in the title and dedicate the rest of my life to my true calling, which is to be a billionaire playboy.

Continue reading