So I’m back.  “From where” you ask?  From my Girlie vacation to the USA slash potentially life ending private flight slash 3 days of mad crazy shopping.

But I made it back.  Alive and in one piece.  And now wish to be forever known as “The Only Girl Who Has More Courage Than She Ever Thought And Possibly Even A Pair of Balls”.  Why?  Because I flew in a Mini Cooper.  Yeah, that’s right.  A Mini Cooper.  With wings.

Exhibit A - me beside an actual Mini Cooper . . .

Exhibit B – me beside the very tiny plane I flew in last Friday . . .

You’ll notice that they’re both roughly the same size, except one has wings and one doesn’t.  Also?  One tends to hop around in the air, particularly just after take-off, and the other drives smoothly with all 4 wheels firmly and safely on the ground at all times.

For those of you familiar with the Boston MA area, our friend Karen flew us (and by “us” I’m referring to myself, my BFF Elle and Paul-the-Instructor.  Why the Instructor you ask?  Because our friend isn’t fully licensed yet.  But will be very soon.  Although she does have an Aviator jacket & glasses, so she’s as close to an official pilot as you can get.  Isn’t she?) from the Norwood Municipal Airport to the Plymouth (as in the rock) Municipal Airport.  Turns out it was too windy to fly to Martha’s Vineyard as we had initially planned.  But frankly?  I also thought it was a little too windy to fly to Plymouth – but what do I know?

No, we did not get to see the rock.  But we did have a delightful lunch at the airport before agreeing to get back in the plane for the return flight (approximatley 15-20 minutes each way, although it felt SIGNIFICANTLY longer than that from 2500 feet in the air).  We agreed to the return flight partially because we couldn’t afford the cab ride back and partially because I wanted to be one of those people who fly somewhere just to eat a meal, then fly home.

So kudos to Elle and I!  We did it and lived to tell the tale.  Here’s few pictures just in case you require proof . . .

(NOT a very roomy interior.  Note the brave faces and seemingly happy smiles that succeeded in fooling the picture taking Instructor that we’re completely relaxed and enjoying our experience)

(a glimpse of how high up we were – gulp)

(I may appear at ease, but in my head I’m actually saying screaming ”ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod”)

So there you have it.  I’m clearly the bravest blogger in all the land.

And now I’ll leave you with what the marketing world refers to as a “teaser” for my next post . . .

Tune in next time when Cher details her experience with a suitcase and a half of newly purchased American clothes and shoes, and the fine Officers at the Canadian Customs Office that busted her.

Massachusetts – the State so nice, I’m going there twice!

(FYI for the Canadian readers- apparently residents of Massachusetts are often referred to as “Massholes”.  Not sure if this is derogatory or not.  My apologies if it is.)

You may remember my super awesome whirlwind trip to Boston & The Cape back in July when this happened;

(Monique, Jessalyn, Kate and me)

And this . . .

(me, CHELSEA HANDLER!, Jess & SurferWife – notice how tightly Chelsea’s hugging me?! Just sayin’)

And this . . .

(yep – me & Heather McDonald!)

Well, I’m heading to Boston again – today!  This afternoon in fact.  But sadly, there will be no blogger meet-up this time.  Nor will there be backstage fun and craziness with Chelsea or Heather McDonald.

Instead I’ll be flying down with my BFF Elle to meet up with another Canadian girlfriend who relocated to just out south of Boston a couple years ago.  This trip will include;

• some much needed girl time
• some equally needed relaxing
• LOTS of shopping.  The Canadian dollar has been kicking some US dollar’s ass lately so I’ll be getting good bang for my shopping buck  (woo hoo for that!) and I’m in desperate need of some new Fall/Winter clothes
• lots of eating – we’re 3 girls who love our grub
• fancy, fruity, girlie drinks

There is one more component to this quickie 3 day trip, however.  Our friend in Boston has spent the summer getting her private pilot’s license.  Yes – as in – to fly a plane.  A very, very, small plane.  A plane you can basically compare to a Mini Cooper with wings.  There’s only 4 seats.  And the front two lift forward to let the passengers in the back.  Elle & I will be the nauseous one’s experiencing cardiac arrest passengers in the back.

And if that isn’t bad enough, the municipal airport she flies out of basically has a grassy take-off strip in a Farmer’s field.  Is this legal in the US?  I choose to assume so.

And if you’re not already worried enough about my safety, I’ll add that we’ll be flying from south of Boston to Martha’s Vineyard. 

So just go ahead and just say it – we’re all thinking it anyway . . . “Geez Cher – isn’t that where JFK Jr., well, you know, died in a small private plane crash?”

YES!  Yes it is!

I know it, and you know it, but we’re not going to concentrate on that fact because Elle is a big scaredy cat and if might freak her out and then she’ll put the kibosh on the whole private plane flight thing.  And that would be a shame because I’ve been lead to believe that the 30-ish minute flight to Martha’s this time of year is beautiful what with the leaves turning colour and all.  AND I’ve spent the last 2 months psyching myself up for it.

So you will all send happy, lucky, positive thoughts my way on Friday when we take that flight.  Otherwise you’re all getting my boys for 1 week each on a rotating basis.

I do hope to be able to blog about it once I return.  Wish me luck.

Would you go up in such a small plane or are we crazy?  Have you ever been in such a small plane and if so, do you recommend bringing a barf-bag?  Do you have a favourite US clothing store that I should be sure to visit?

What do you do when you’re a busy, stressed out, working mother who blogs and who really needs to recharge her batteries?

You make a last minute decision to join two of your favourite Bloggers on a 2.5 day adventurer to another city country and hop a plane from Toronto to Boston!

During this time you may or may not do the following;

• meet up with 2 almost total strangers but feel like you’re already good friends
• meet a 3rd favourite Blogger for a delightful patio dinner and FINALLY get to put a face with the name “Kate”

(Monique, Jessalyn, Kate and Yours Truly)

• spend a LOT of time driving in an SUV (and not even mind)
• walk the ENTIRE city of Boston – in one day
• eat mucho clam chowder
• experience “The Cheesecake Factory” and Fried Mac & Cheese in all it’s glory.  This could possibly replace butter tarts as my favourite treat if only it was readily available in Canada.
• visit the original “Cheers” – how cool is that?!  (if you have no idea what this is, then you’re too young to hang out with me - sorry)

• fear you’re being gunned down in a hail of bullets, only to find out its just a shit ton of fire crackers.  A fear that could only be calmed by a Sam Adams.

• attempt to find Paul Revere’s house.  On a back alley street.  In the dark.  Through a fence.  I think we got close enough to call it a success.
• take a nasty subway ride with a bunch of ridiculous people (please note: this statement does not refer to Jess nor Surferwife)
• spend 2 nights in a charming guest bedroom with a super comfy mattress at an adorable and welcoming Cape Cod home (thanks Jess!)
• meet the legend that is Manfriend!
• experience a “box” of coffee.  That’s take out coffee – in a box, people!
• see more Dunkin Donut locations than I ever thought possible
• witness SurferWife’s feet break their Atlantic Ocean cherry at Cahoon Hollow Beach

• drive to Provincetown, at the very tip of The Cape, and damn near die climbing the steps to the top of the Pilgrim Monument.  No – seriously.  All. Most. Died.

(look at how tall that thing is!  But this view was totally worth it)

• hear Heather McDonald and Chelsea Handler perform for the first time ever (my first time – clearly not theirs).  Oh, and go backstage to meet them afterwards.  Apparently this is a really big deal.  Jealous?

(I think Chelsea may have tried to pet my shoulder.  Not sure.  But I definitely got some of her pit sweat on my shirt)

(Heather will on The Tonight Show this Friday – Aug 6th - FYI)

• talk SurferWife down off the ledge of having her Chelsea chest signature tattooed.  No really.

• learn that the ENTIRE town of Hyannis closes down between 1am – 3am.  I’m talking gas stations.  7-Elevens.  Everything.  Where the heck is a hungry foreign girl supposed to get a drive-thru burger on the way home from a wicked good celeb filled night???

But best of all, you meet as 3 strangers but part ways as 3 friends.  Kate, Jess & Monique were as fun and lovely as I had assumed they’d be.  We crammed a lot into 2.5 days and I enjoyed every minute.

And that’s all you’re going to get from me.  You know what they say – “What happens on The Cape, stays on The Cape!”

Oh, and recharged Mommy batteries are only good for about 1 day.  Then real life comes rushing back.  Fortunately I’m heading off for vacation AGAIN this weekend.  I know.  I’m living the life.

If you could meet any Blogger, who would it be?  What city would you like to meet in?

Submitted for your consideration . . .

You have a real life BFF.  She’s the Admin Assistant for a very prominent Doctor.  A Doctor of Plastic Surgery.  At a leading Canadian hospital.  Who, from time to time, holds training sessions on various techniques for other Doctors who are looking to learning said techniques.

These training sessions often require a “Patient”.  Someone who will allow said technique to be administered to them for such training purposes.

These “Patients” could be considered Saints with very giving hearts that like to help others.  Or just really lucky people.

Anybitches . . . just such a training session came up this week.  It was for Botox injections (which, here in Canada, can only be administered by a Doctor, in a Doctor’s office.  No “Botox Parties” for us).  As I had previously instructed my BFF to place me at the top of the potential training patient list, I received this call;

Elle:  Hey – you want some free Botox?

Me:  WHAT!?

Elle:  Answer the question.

Me:  As in – you’re going to steal some from work and inject me at your house? Ah, no thanks.

Elle:  NO!  He’s doing another training session and needs a Patient.

Me:  Seriously?  Is it free?  Will I have to wear one of those horrible backless hospital gowns in front of a bunch of people?

Elle:  NO!  I mean “no” to the backless gown, but yes – it would be free.

Me:  hmmmm . . .

So my Bloggies, here’s where you come in.

 Loading ...

Submit your vote.  You have my destiny in your hands.

I’ll let you know what I decide in a few days . . . gulp.

Have you ever wanted to get Botox?  And if you’ve had it before, was it a good or bad experience?  Would you do it again?

The other day my girl Jules over at Life On A Hanger made me my very own doodle.  How cool is this?!?!

Thanks Jules – I love it!

I struggle at drawing stickman (seriously), so I find swirly fancy doodles VERY impressive.

May I present . . . Exhibit A

This is a drawing I did of Jules. Yes, I realize it looks like Cousin Itt from The Addams Family.  But she has privacy issues and never shows her beautiful face, which is why I drew her facing backwards.  And of course she’s holding a hanger, because her blog is “Life On A Hanger”.  Get it?

I acknowledge that I’m artistically challenged.  It’s just one of my many shortcomings.

But now the question is – how do I best utilize my personalized doodle from Jules???  Of course I just knew that my very clever Bloggies would have some ingenious ideas.

So far, I’ve already considered;

• a tattoo
• pillow cover
• t-shirt
• vehicle wrap
• custom wallpaper

C’mon kids – what else could I do with my cool “The Only Girl” doodle???

Apparently Ree Drummond, aka The Pioneer Woman, considers herself my best friend.  No, really.  She does.  I mean, I blog and she blogs, but that’s kind of where our relationship ends.  Perhaps I’ve mislead her.  I think it all started when I sent her this letter last month . . .

Dear Ree,

Enclosed, please find 2 of your fab cookbooks.  One is mine, and the other is my BFF, Elle’s.  I gave it to her for Christmas.  She claims it was the best gift she received.  And I believe her because I do give great gifts.

We’ve both been big PW readers for awhile now and were so excited when you announced the launch of your cookbook and the book tour!  Yay – we would finally get to meet you face to face!  After reading you for so long, and feeling like we totally and completely kinda know you, this was a very exciting prospect.

But then we read through the list of cities you would be visiting.  Shock!  Horrors!  Not only was our beloved city excluded, so was our country!  Surely to God you have many loyal readers and fans up here in Canada!  Let’s take the Calgary Stampede for example – that place is CRAWLING with cowboys.  Surely they’d ALL want their wives to have a copy of your book.

But alas, it was not meant to be.  Calgary was not on the list, and nor was our beloved Toronto.

But we will not let that deter us.  No.  We will continue to read, to enjoy and to admire our PW.  And in the meantime, we really hope you’re still doing the “book signing by mail” option.  Otherwise we’ve waste time and postage sending you our books.  And you can probably get one for free whenever you want.  I imagine you probably have a whole case of them in your house right now.  In case someone comes by the door.  You seem like you’d be really generous like that.

Anywhoo – we’re lost without our cookbooks and our families will not be eating until they are returned.  We hope that inspires you to sign and re-mail quickly.  But not too quickly – I’d be really annoyed if you rushed things and spelled my name wrong.

We’d be most appreciative if you could make one out to Elle and the one with all the post-it flags to Cher.  Please don’t remove any of the post-it flags.  Those are all the recipes I didn’t like – ha!  Just kidding.  Those are the ones I’m dying to try for my house of annoyingly picky boys loving family.

Many thanks – for the great website, for the awesome cookbook, and for the signings.

Much admiration,

Cher

And a couple weeks later, our cookbooks showed up in my mailbox.  Here’s mine;

See?  “from your BFF“.  And a heart.

Sorry Elle.  I think you’ve been replaced.

And if any of you also have one of The Pioneer Woman’s books signed in a very similar manner, please keep it to yourself.  I don’t want to ruin my fantasy.

———————————————————————————————————————-

Be sure to enter yesterday’s Olympic Prize Pack give away.  Deadline is today (Tuesday) at noon Eastern time.

My BFF Elle and I went to the Spa this weekend.  A very high class spa in a very high class hotel in downtown Toronto.  No, this is not a regular occurrence for us.  This was a special event we had planned for several months.

And it was awesome!  A hot stone massage followed by a DE-lish spa lunch, then topped off with a facial.  Not to mention spending the day with your Bestie.  Bliss I tell you!  We decided that this is exactly what we would do every week as soon as one of us wins big in the lottery.  But of course we’d take a limo to and from instead of public transit.

I do, however, have a few things I need to get off my chest;

• To the Canadian TV show actress we shared the change room with – you’re not that great.  Get over yourself.

• To the naked woman in the hot tub – please bring a bathing suit next time.  Glad you’re comfortable with your body, but we weren’t.

• To the self admitted make-up artist I shared the bathroom mirror with – a) it was very intimidating to awkwardly apply my sad make up collection in front of you and b) if you’re a make-up artist, can’t you make yourself look better?

• To the gentleman who’s sole job was to tidy and straighten up after each guest as they moved about the spa – please marry me.  I have never met anyone as anal as me before and I find your homosexuality charming.  We were meant to be.

• To the gentlemen in the spa bath robes that were clearly having a business lunch meeting with a lady also in a bath robe – a) really odd place to hold a meeting  b) presumably you were naked under those spa bath robes . . . at a business meeting (creepy!) and c) why did the salesman from Gucci across the street show up to deliver a pair of beautifully boxed and bagged Gucci shoes to each of you?  Exactly who are you and why are you important enough to get free shoes while you have lunch in a robe?  We tried to eavesdrop on your conversation, but couldn’t figure it out.  Can Elle & I be your friends?

• To the 2 women sitting at the table behind us at lunch – sorry the “one size fits all” spa bath robe wasn’t large enough for you, but can you please stop talking so we can eavesdrop on the Gucci guys and figure out who the heck they are!  Sheesh!

• To the man sitting behind us on the 45 minute ride home -  did you not think of your fellow commuters before you decided to bring your stinky take-out dinner on the train?  Thanks for making me nauseous.

May I add that these people in no way ruined my spa experience.  Nothing could have.

Same again next week Elle?

I met an old friend for lunch the other week.  Well, she’s isn’t actually “old”.  She’s the same age as me.  But I’ve known her since Elementary school – which was never-you-mind-how-many years ago.  We were in many classes together, used to hang out after school, and attended each others sleep-over parties and such.  We bumped into each and decided to catch up over lunch.  And it was a lovely!  And she’s exactly the same.  Same looks.  Same mannerisms.  Same laugh.  It was so weird – but in a good way.

But it just confirmed what I had already suspected . . . I have a REALLY bad memory for the past.  So bad in fact that I’ve often wondered if I’ve sustained some type of head injury that may have resulted in selective amnesia.  Or maybe I experienced a traumatic event and had to block out a chunk of my past.  Neither of which has actually happened I’m certain, but that’s what it feels like.

In fact, not so long ago, I had this conversation with another friend:

her:  hey remember Joe?

me:   no

her:  you know – Joe Blow? (clearly not his real name)

me:  no

her:  you dated him?

me:  I did?  For very long?

her:  no – nothing major.  I think you went for dinner a couple of times.

me:  I have no idea who you’re talking about.

This kinda thing happens all the time when friends bring up past events.  It’s like I wasn’t even there.  The same thing happened when I was out for lunch with my old friend.  Turns out she has a younger brother.  Which I had absolutely no recollection of.  And she mentioned teachers and other friends that I again, I could not remember.  Is it just me?

Anyway, I’d better go check the stove – I might have left something on it.

And now we move on to the U2 concert part of “The Only Girl’s Big Day” . . .

If you’ve read any of the reviews, you’ll know by now that it was freaking awesome!  That enormous stage was UN-believable.  Their performance was outstanding.  The music was spectacular.  And he’s just so handsome.

I enjoyed every moment.  From singing and clapping and dancing, to just trying to look around and take it all in.  Yes it was expensive, but I say it was worth it.  No regrets here my friends!

And although Cherry was probably a little sad that she wasn’t at the front of the stage with her friends that had lined up with their General Admission tickets – for the previous 24 hours might I add !!! – I think she did enjoy the different view point and was able to take in all the effects that you wouldn’t otherwise see when you’re right at the very front.  And I really enjoyed experiencing it with her (thanks again Cherry!).

Here’s a couple pics . . .

The big honkin’ stage before they turned the lights off.  I mean honestly – look at that thing!

The big honkin’ stage all lit up.  We were 30 rows from the field by the way.

The Man himself.

And when it was all over (just past 11:00pm), Cherry and I immediately left the stadium, and headed around the side of it to Gate 15, where I dropped her off with her friends for the night.  Because she joined the General Admission line up that had already started to form for the next night’s concert!!!!  Can you believe that?!?!?!  She was lucky number 37 and seemed quite happy about it.  So once she had secured her position, and had her number marked on her hand, off she went to her car.  To get a warm sleeping bag and some supplies to get her through the long chilly night that lay ahead.

I, on the other hand, headed off to the train station to make my way home.  To my comfortable warm bed in my comfortable warm house where there was plenty of food, running water and flushing toilets.  Which was a good thing, because somewhere between the stadium and the hour long train ride home I contracted a nasty stomach bug . . . oh my God – I hope I didn’t pass it on to Maureen Holloway!

Sigh.  What can I possibly say?   What words can I possibly use to give my experience the justice it deserves?  I know you were all expecting a delightfully witty post about my big day, but you’re simply not going to get it.  Why?  Because I’m at a loss for words.  And I’m exhausted.  No really.  EXHAUSTED!  That was a big,  long day I had.  It was exciting and I was up late and I don’t do well on minimal sleep.  And then, to make matters worse, on the way home (sometime around 1am) a stomach bug got a hold of me.  But I’m on the road to recovery and wanted to share a few details with you.

Yes.  Yes I DID meet the lovely, the gracious, the hilarious, the kind and the stunningly beautiful Maureen Holloway (oh, and her lovely husband by-the-by).  She was delightful.  And yes, you could say that in some capacity, we are in fact, now friends.  But how can I possibly describe our meeting?  Yes, I was nervous and, oddly enough, at a loss for words.  Which is rare for me.  I tried very hard to be cool and polite, but inside I was thrilled.  Thrilled to meet her and thrilled that she was even lovelier than I had thought.  Because I would have been really disappointed if she had turned out to be a whiny nasty bitch.

Although words fail me to adequately describe Part One of “The Only Girl’s Big Day” perhaps I’ll just share a few pictures with you instead.

Here we are only moments after first meeting . . . when she used the words, AND I QUOTE “your blog is fantastic”.  Yes, that’s what she said!  Doesn’t matter if she meant it or not – she said it.  And on camera.  Because my friend video taped our meeting.  I know, I know.  Crazy and sad all at the same time, but I knew that I would be too nervous to remember any of our conversation.  But now I have repeatedly listened can choose to listen to her kind words over and over and over again.  Whenever I want.  And I must say here, that the only person that was happier than me at this moment was my dear friend Elle.  Who was so chuffed for me that she was practically beside herself.  She was giddy!  That’s when you know you have a true friend – when they are just so excited to watch you have your moment, that it actually becomes their moment too.

So here we are! (no – her hand isn’t made from alabaster.  Nor is there something wrong with it.  She was simply wearing gloves for sanitary reasons because she was going to flip some of the lunch burgers.  So stop looking at my friend’s weird hand.  It’s perfectly normal and manicured under that glove.  Please concentrate instead on how happy we look together.  And how warmly she’s embracing me.  And how she can totally pull off that pink & white breast cancer cowgirl hat!  My friend is so stylish)

And here she’s signing a Q107 poster that reads, AND I QUOTE “For Cher, My new best friend and blog colleague, Maureen Holloway”  Ha!  What do you think of that!

And for the record, I think she only signed two of those posters, and the other one was for Elle.  So there was definitely some special treatment there.

And here’s me with Mr. John Derringer (please note – again with the warm embrace)

And the rest of the Q107 morning radio show gang that I start every day with (left to right:  Bill Hayes, John Garbutt, John Derringer, Ryan Parker and of course my friend, the lovely Maureen)

And all joking aside, the event itself was a success.  Tons of people came out to support the Women’s College Hospital Breast Centre.  I think everyone had fun and lots of money was raised.  Which was what it was really all about.  Allowing a lot of really great people to continue doing some really awesome work.

And on a private note . . . Mo – I’d definitely go with the silver shoes.