FOOD FOR THOUGHT

a Geriatric MoMent .

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I was waiting for da bus the other day when an older lady sat next to me. My weakness: old people. They smile, I get verklempt. They speak, I get verklempt, they sit in a restaurant alone, I can’t handle it. It’s just my thing. I imagine the worst: she just lost her husband, she can’t find her way back home, she’s not wearing her wedding ring…uh oh, I want to give her a hug and shout at the top of my lungs, “WILL SOMEONE HELP THIS LADY, SHE’S LOST”!!! Good thing I don’t.

The older lady chatted about the ugly condo in mid construction across the street. I complained how the bus was taking so **F&*KING long. She mentioned how different the city has changed, “the condos are blocking our beautiful scenery”, “London Drugs used to be my home” (not literally) but on the main street. I soon forgot about the bus and was far more interested in her tales.

Our dialogue went something like this;

ME: It will be interesting to see what the city will look like in 5 years.

LADY: (smiling) I don’t think I’ll be here.

ME: (what I wanted to say): “where are you going?”

LADY: (what I actually said): oh you’ll be here….you young whippersnapper”…you….

I trail off. She smiles and continues to strut her way onto the bus that finally arrives. As I stood behind her a few heads taller, foot still in my mouth, I couldn’t help but smile at her jovial demeanor.

She struck a chord in me when she said, “I don’t think I’ll be here”. I started fast forwarding to where I want or think I should be in 5 years. Questions swarmed in my head, “What if I’m not here?”, “Who will get all of my shoes?”, “I better hide my diaries!” and so on and so forth, etc, etc, blah, blah, blah, boom. I quickly shook off the nonsensical rumbles of chatter in my elaborate imagination. My nona lived to be 105, my grandfather is 89, I figure if I keep eating my greens and Nutella I’d like to hit 100. And if I end up in a retirement home, I’ll be the little old lady busting out costumes from her tickle trunk and putting on shows for the staff. Yup. That sounds great!!!! Or, convert the tuck shop into a kissing booth, $1.00 a kiss. Or 3 for $5.00. I would make millions for my grandchildren!!!!

So, after convincing myself that aging gracefully and with spunk is a fabulous option, I let out a breathe of air. I reminded myself to enjoy every moment, savour those conversations with loved ones, and learn from your elders. Maybe that afternoon I was the one with the geriatric moment and not my new friend.

A homage to women of all ages. I am a huge fan of Socialite Alice Apfel. She is amongst my all time favourite women. Her eccentric style and persona is what makes this 95 year old stand out. She’s been quoted as saying, ‘I’m a geriatric starlet. Her exuberant outfits and flying-saucer glasses have turned her into a style icon. BE YOU at any age. I have a feeling we’d get along just fine. – CS xx

** ridiculously

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FOOD FOR THOUGHT

FOLLOW ME . I'LL FOLLOW YOUFOLLOW ME . I’ll FOLLOW YOU

I feel like this guy and I would have a lot in common. And we wouldn’t even need to talk. We’d just need to moooooove. Some random thoughts on a Thursday night. Distracted by such marvel and the fact that I burnt an entire pot of soup that has left my place in smoke. The pot and the soup. Sigh….I’m a let down to all things that would have been delicious tonight. Good thing dancing makes me smile. Cause the lecture I got didn’t.  – CS xx

 

It’s Important To Have Things In Common With People.

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FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Another birthday . Another pair of boots.

 

I celebrated my 35th birthday this past week. Yup . I said it. 35. Halfway to 70. A woman. And I’m not ashamed to admit my age. Although I cringe at times. But I actually feel amazing. Especially when, this week the sales lady at a cosmetic counter where I was looking at serums, exfoliants and face peels (OH MY!) asked me, “Are you 19 yet?” BOOM! She got the biggest gold star I have ever given out to ANYONE!!! They may be invisible. But heck! THEY ARE GOLD!!!!  I will unabashedly admit that I am blessed with fantastic genetics. I’m not being cocky. I’m just saying it how it is. My grandfather is 89, he looks 70. My father is in his 60’s he looks 55 (dad I hope you are reading this “gloat”) I think by the time I’m 45, I’ll actually look 35. Some say at this age I’d be a cougar. But I beg to differ. A cheetah. Sounds a little less harsh. And cheetahs still got there spunk and energyyyyyyyyy! So I must be doing something right. And in the entertainment business where looks seem to be everything these days, I knock on wood every single day that I still look like a teenage boy on camera…giving me a few years. I’m not gonna give credit to drinking lots of water, instead I’ll give credit to laughing. ALOT. Smiling ALOT. Flirting ALOT And yes… crying ALOT. Keeps me feeling young, the tear ducts are healthy, and salt water quenches the skin (I made that part up) I’ll be honest, I wasn’t excited this year. I started beating myself up on “where I feel I should be in life”, “What I haven’t accomplished as of yet”, “Why I’m still working these joe jobs”, but then foolishly shook that off. Never ask “Why” doe doe head. Instead I embraced all the fantastical things that I have accomplished thus far as a young chicken. And remind myself that certain things will give you the money to do what you want full time. And hopefully have creative control over them too. So, What is it about a “time line” that we so heavily rely on?? I’m leave that up to Facebook. This is a year of definite change. A lot of seeds are planted out there and a lot of amazing things are happening and unfolding. I may not see them yet but I am fully ready for when they bloom my way. Some I can’t talk about as of yet and others I will share when the time is right. But in the mean time I have graciously wrote down what I am proud of to remind myself of all the good that is here and that I am on the right track. The night before my birthday I bought myself some roses and popped open my iPhoto where I keep a section called, “THE GOOD OL DAYS”. Snap shots from photo albums at my parents home from the 70’s. Nostalgia sets in and I cried like a fool while laughing at the innocence of such a young little “peanut” as my dad called me as a baby. Weighing in at 3 lbs that nick name still holds. I had it good. And I still do. Lots of LOVE . FRIENDSHIPS . FAMILY . CREATIVITY . HEALTH. LIFE. and oh so much more! And sure, we always do want more. And sure, we beat ourselves up. But for what? We do what we can and the rest is up to wherever our adventures lead us. It’s amazing how the word YES and how our actions will take us on unknown adventures. I think that’s part of why I love being an actor, I never know what’s next and when it comes I tackle it from a place of play. Some challenging, some testing but overall they work out as planned. I’ve learned to keep my blinders on, ignore the ignorance of others, and continue to listen to the burning feeling that tells me to “keep on trucking”. Cause when I focus on myself and commend the good I do it makes me feel fantastic. Smiling at the days that past I was more excited to wake up the next morning and celebrate my life as a 35 year young woman. And that’s what I did. I woke up, got out of bed, stretched my arms and yelled, “FUCK YA ! I’M FUCKING 35!” …got on with my day..embraced all the well wishes, celebrated with close friends and bought myself another pair of boots. Hey! The one thing that makes me feel different every day are what I wear on my feel. And the fact that I’m starting to get bunions, well that opens a whole level in the shoe world. No, not orthotics (I can’t face that yet) But that face that I need good quality footwear. Most of the time quality equals quantity in my books. And whatever else makes me feel delicious, sexy, creative, flirty, cheeky, confident, passionate, excitable, fiery and endure the game of life! And yes, a gal needs to splurge once in a while. Even if one of those splurges aside from boots is skin care. Because soon (and by soon I mean another 25 years) I’ll be earning my spots. GRACIOUSLY – CS XX Image Already practicing in the mirror. Image My ability to not stay still started at a young age. My dad is wearing a very cool vintage button down. He probably still has it. I, on the other hand wish I owned that onesy. Image I look like a boy (to the left in pink) although you probably knew I was a girl (in the pink). A bottle of milk and my papa’s “Italian dog bones” always kept me happy. As you can see by my smile. My brother to the right (an actual boy). Image I look like a boy. My mom decided to keep my hair short. Thanks. They called me “Trouble” just like the game. Image Still looking like a boy (in red) Thanks. My brother to the left (an actual boy) But the beginning of my artistic adventures as a girl. Notice how I can paint and stare right into the camera. Talent. Image SR. Kindergarden. I look like a little girl. I love this picture. When I have a bad day I look at it and it reminds me of the cheeky monkey that I still am. Impeccable style too I may ad. Image The 35 year old woman that I was talking about. I still got it. Even with my tongue out. Cheers to a new year! And Play every chance you get! Cause that my friends….is what it’s all about. images

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FOOD FOR THOUGHT

black & white and everything in between .

Well my lovely peeps, the chill is back and so is the rain. Often distracted by puddles and broken umbrellas, trying to keep my head clear is usually a challenge. Lets face it, my mind is pretty imaginative and most of the time I dream of tropical islands, skinny dipping, dancing everywhere, magical places, lavender bubble baths, artistic adventures and frolicking…… on the beach.  I like to wrap myself in my house coat, curl up in my cozy bed and convert it into my home office. Most things don’t seem clear. Usually they aren’t . But sometimes they are right in front of your eyes. No need to play peek a boo or hide behind those fears. You may want to play with what you have and splash around a bit. Tears may stream, emotions rise, you might just need some extra special lovin.  You miss certain people, yummy smells, change isn’t as easy as picking up a penny. They say chicken soup is good for the soul but so is leaping in the air and landing on your feet with a bit of a stumble. Putting your foot in your mouth is often a good thing. It makes you real. It  stirs the heart part. Messages are sent, wires are crossed. But if you’re smart enough to see the everything in between, the black and white is easier to be seen.  Let’s face it, sometimes the grey areas are all you need on a rainy day. CS xx

rainy kisses . romantic escapes . flying high . peek a boo . hibernate . lady thoughts .

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FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Season Of Ch Ch Ch Ch Change .

I swear, it seems like every 5 years I feel a growth spurt. No, not in my boobs but in my heart.  Mentally. I feel the need for growth and change. I’ve been feeling it for a couple of months now. Maybe it’s a part of getting older. Possibly, the turn of the season. Each year I have a better sense of what I want. What I’d rather focus my time on. Who I want to spend hours with. Where I want to go. When I want to put my foot down. Why I need to let the things that weigh me down be set free. Sometimes I don’t know where to be. Most of the time I can never pin point what it is. I know it’s heart + mind + gut. Confused usually.  I’m never really sure .  Grown up pants. I like to choose my own adventure. trust it . I don’t know about you but Fall is the start of something new.

. mind montage .

crisp air . sun on my face . warm hugs . a big kiss . leaves a changing . new prospects . learn Italian (for the 3rd time) . heavy knits . boots and jeans . running in the wind . crimson lips  . new relationships . scary adventures . 8 months . do something new . kiss a crush . film . family chats . black and white . let it all go . enjoy the game . fall like a leaf . take my time . weird is cool . birthday  time . fly like a bird . chase something . sew a button . bangs . 60 seconds of fun . grandma sweaters . something special . quit something you don’t like . los angeles . new york city . i’m coming to play . piano . sing a song . stage . learn guitar . drive . 3 chords . yes . do it . head stand . kale . americano . cuddles . opera . black . pumpkins . vampire teeth . i miss u . hurdles . vanilla candles . paint . doodle . dare . plan . cheeky monkey . apple pie a la mode . crazy . song bird . clogs & socks . lucy . inspiration . tattoo . vogue . i’m just being me .

peek a boo . unexpected change . french inspired . girl crush . teepee for 2 . rachel comey obsessed . doodle heart

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FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Big Feet . Ballerina Dreams

 

 

I started dancing when I was 4 years old. Tap and Ballet were my first and then Jazz. My love for dancing has really enabled me to rock out on any dance floor or living room. Interpretive dances are a must – at a party, at a cottage, in the comfort of your own home (or others). My body does things. As a matter of fact, breaking into creative dance moves in a store, down an aisle, on a stage (especially with a banana) or in the street is my kinda my thing. Weather its dancing to “Saturday Night Fever” or Classical Music I let the music take me where no man has gone before. Er- 

When I was 6 years old my ballet teacher, **Rita (** Rita wasn’t her real name) told my mother that I would never be a ballerina. To put it gently (as I later cried and still hold it with me till this day) I didn’t have the proper legs ala turn out. Wow. That was a smack in the face. Especially when you, the little girl with probably the biggest feet in the class had a dream. I absolutely adored ballet and was secretly jealous of those girls who moved so flawlessly on the stage and excelled in the advanced program. Desperately trying to prove her wrong I stuck it out until I was 16,  just when I was about to go on point shoes. I absolutely loved point. But I knew that I wouldn’t advance further. You’re probably thinking, “Christina, No girlfriend! You should have stuck with it. Seriously, dreams do come true. You are the ballerina that could! You could have been a ballet star! YOU could have been Natalie Portman in The Black Swan”!!!!!!! Or something like that. But your gut knows best and your body knows it even more. I stopped out of  insecurity. Why put myself through the torture of trying to be someone I wasn’t? You can’t fit a square in a circle. Or can you? Instead I’ll have you know I was Vice President of Student Council that year which occupied my time. You’re probably thinking, “Wow Christina you are a jack of all trades”. Yes my friends, I am.  Skipping math class to “do council work” was a priority. And stepping out of science class to “take care of an important matter” (free Oh Henry Bars were coming in by the case for the Much Music dance party that night) I needed to be there for my peers. So instead I did what any responsible councilman would do, I decided to prioritize. I chose the only dance class I had time for and made time for. This was Tap. So that little girl who clung to the back row in ballet class, self-conscious of legs and feet, who always looked ahead to the “favoured” girls in the front row returned her point shoes. Another girl with a ballet dream would scoop them up. And plus I was really important that year in high school, so….  Alright. The truth: I knew my dream (and there are lots) to be a ballerina would not come true. I gave up. Something I do not like doing. Ever. Was it my big feet that I was self-conscious of? Maybe it was a turnout. My feet aren’t perfectly arched either. They are, as the boys would tease me in grade school, “flat as a board”.  Well guess what boys! My feet grew faster than my boobs. So take that. You know what they say about a gal with big feet?

ME: What?

ME: I dunno.

I have size 8 flippers, sometimes they range to a 9.5 (insanity). For a 5’4 gals with a tiny frame that is just uncalled for! I constantly trip UP stairs, on the sidewalk and religiously stub my toes on furniture. My guy won’t touch my feet. As a matter of fact he cringes at them. Saying things like, “look at those”, “get them away from me” or even, “go get orthotics, we have coverage!!!”. I would say this is verbal abuse. I have feelings too you know. I think I may be a hobbit. Come to think of it, If Bilbo Baggins had a sister I would be she. I am a klutz. To say I have grace, well others would argue I walk like an elephant. That’s when I knew my instincts were right about sticking with tap.  I never felt insecure about my foot size, nor my form. And there was a rhythm in my feet. It’s like they would come alive! Yeah, that’s right. I was fast. There was nothing more joyous than the banging sensation of my feet stomping to the ground. I tapped to the rhythm of the music and challenged myself within the beats. I love to tap.  Not to mention, I was the strongest out of all three. Maybe my natural talent for stomping really did come in handy. It excited me in a way that gave me the freedom to move my body loosely while staying in control of my feet. I am like a bag of microwave popcorn ready to explode all over the microwave when I tap. I didn’t even have to wear a bun. Instead, I sported a headband. All this and I looked cool at the same time. Yes I always think I’m cool when I tap. Like when I played soccer as a kid we had to take pictures and I thought I was cool by pushing my tongue against my bottom lip (try it. You’ll feel cool). Don’t ask me why but I have proof in the pictures. I even had the honour of tapping with Gregory Hines in Theatre School. Yep! I’m gloating and I name dropped. You will have to just deal with it. Jazz on the other hand well, I am definitely a white girl. Watching me do Hip Hop will cheer anyone up when they are feeling blue. It’s a comedy show in itself. I still got my tappers and have come to terms with my 87-year-old looking feet. Correction – My 87-year-old grandfather has prettier feet than mine. I have no idea where these came from. I’ve also come to terms with the fact that this shy timid little ballerina girl (who secretly glides across the bedroom floor to “Swan Lake” in a Swan costume (I exaggerated the part of the costume) has her ballet slippers tucked underneath her bed. I may have a tiny bunion or two. And I may not be so graceful. But I got rhythm and I got music….Who could ask for anything more?  

Ballet classes please? – CS xx

No one ever told me I could’t sport a tutu and heels.

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FOOD FOR THOUGHT

What makes you tick?

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First and foremost the fact that I wake up and my heart is still beating like a drum makes me tick. Since I’m on vacation in Kauai the sound of a rooster “cocka doodle dooing” in the wee morning hours makes me tick. The ocean waves, hot sun, sounds of nature, breathtaking landscapes and of course the many talents of the surfers make me tick! The sun sets, sun rises, melting in the sun make me tick. The sound of coffee percolating, the smell of coffee in the air and the taste of coffee in my mouth part all make me tick. Yum. After 1, 2, 4 cups of Kauai Coffee Company coffee I am in coffee heaven. I am addicted to the Chocolate Macadamia Nut. I went to visit the plant and after a few samples you can imagine I was bouncing off the walls, doing hand stands in the cafe, hula hooping in the shop, doing bits of standup in the plant…..Oh wait a minute, this is what I wanted to do but I held back for once. I felt sorry for my boyfriend who felt like he had his hands full, but after I bought him a cappuccino chocolate chunk cookie he was happy. Until I ate it. Oopsie Daisy. A gal can only try. And I’ve already expressed how I feel about an amazing homemade chocolate cookie time and time again. I’ve already stocked up on such flavours as Vanilla Macadamia Nut, Hazelnut Macadamia and a Coconut Caramel Crunch. But the Chocolate is the best. I get so excited just thinking about my next cup. I’ve even got to the point of sniffing a bag when no one is looking. You could even order it online and they will ship it for free to you. I’m addicted. – CS xx

So, what makes you tick? CS xx

YUMMMMMMMY

Kauai Coffee Company

Restroom Art

Ricky The Rooster

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