POLITICAL HAIR DAZE

In this electronic offering, I would like to discuss something as simple as the fact that I was privileged enough to get my hair cut and coloured in Simcoe-Muskoka last week. 

As proof of how truly grateful I am, I have attached before and after selfies illustrating my being provided a much needed personal service that I took completely for granted.

Before and After: With selfie photoshoots happening less than a month apart.
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 2021

Before I begin my rant, I would like to insert a caveat. With all we have happening in the world right now, I wake up every morning making an honest effort to be politically diplomatic. Meaning... 'to say nothing, especially when speaking, is half the art of diplomacy.’

I will acknowledge the fact that I’m sure you're perplexed out of the gate with the concept of my saying ‘nothing.’  My choice isn't because I have decided to shy away from the comfort of confrontation, more because in the last year I tend to gut check before I engage online with a person that is being irrational; to ensure that they are NOT going to be doing the same thing. 

That said, though I have my own ideas on how we got to today, I was wondering if anyone else (specifically in Ontario) feel like the tail is now officially wagging the dog? 

Why has cart sanitation and hazard pay at the local box stores disappeared, yet my amazing hairdresser with only one chair, obsessed to comply with every safety aspect thrown at her, expected struggle to generate honest revenue and pay bills?

It makes no sense.

The fact that the 'essential' weed shop in the sleepy little town where I live is an uber small business with a line up around the corner and down the lane, yet for months I couldn't get a haircut in a shop with a single chair. Even more baffling's that the elementary schools remain open here after cases are confirmed in students, and people still can't get a f*ucking haircut!

Look, I know I am scratching a scab that has been puss filled for a year. But we are locked down in Muskoka again thanks to a supposed 'UK variant' that has landed from Ireland. How did it get here?

At this point, because we aren't allowed to travel, my best guess makes me wonder if it landed on the lid of a can of Guinness sold at the local LCBO, that slipped into the store cooler after refusing to wear mask. 

That said, did you hear?  I got my hair done. We wore masks and everything!

Had it been 72 hours later? My gal would have lost her license!!

#rantcomplete #yagottalaughaboutit #totalbullshit #limitededition 

O IS FOR OOOOPS

I don’t know about you, but I've a very challenging and volatile relationship with my aging metabolism. Trust me when I admit that I wasn't even remotely prepared for what midlife did to a woman’s body but will go on the record stating this: It friggin’ sucks!

Let's face it. I only know a very small handful of women my age that are happy with their shape and my theory is simple. Menopause blows, big time. 

I suppose I could spend the money on liposuction to rid the evidence that I gave birth to 3 children, instead I wear clothes that are generally flattering to my shape, while spending my savings on travelling as much as my work life allows. This year, with COVID19 in full force, not so much. 

You see, over the last 6 or seven months I’ve put on some ‘stress weight’ that I am having a tough time shaking. It’s not the type of stress I experienced a decade years ago, more the ‘there aren’t enough hours in a day’ stress; which ultimately opens the door for bad food choices, creating even more stress.

I hate that I'm heavier than I care to be. That said, I guess I could have chosen, overweight or obese as my word, instead I chose OOOOPS.

Frankly because I feel I am simply on a detour, meaning I have not arrived at my final destination.

Thanks for listening ~ Rhondi

My quest for my waist once again continues!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 3rd, 2019
MAZATLAN, MEXICO

REALISTIC RHON2theDEE

I headed south yesterday for some much needed face time and a super-size jolt of retail therapy.

It’s not like I'd put a lot of thought into hatching my Friday plan, because let’s face it, I rarely set time aside for myself and actually follow through. I think it was because I got a random text message from a friend that works in the city that simply read: “You OK?”

At first I wondered if he'd had some insight to my last couple of weeks, but at the end of the day he admitted that he’d checked my blog and noticed I hadn’t posted in almost a month, hence why he was checking in.

Truth of the matter is, during that period, every time I sat down to write there was another item much more pressing on my list of things to do, in need my attention.

Even my coffee was SHOCKED how crazy my summer was!
TAKEN: AUGUST 24, 2019

You see, my husband had surgery the first week of August which was followed by an eight week recovery stint. It was his third procedure for the same ailment, so I knew what to expect as far as him getting back on his feet. Though he’s weathered another storm, yours truly is absolutely exhausted. 

Maintaining a home, cottage, and pack of pups all alone is not for the faint of heart.

Factor in that I’ve had my busiest year at work to date, and the lethargy thickens.

Top it all off with the fact that I am on a mission to lose weight, and I feel the need a power nap just typing the words. What’s a girl to do?

I looked at taking a trip. This time last year I was planning a trip to eat KFC at the pyramids with my girlfriend for her 50th birthday. But almost a year later she was unexpectedly pitched the fastest curve ball ever thrown, so understandably, we've been forced to circle to airport indefinitely.

So I shifted my focus to a Toronto Raptors road trip (Pelicans, Clippers, Lakers) but I know better than most that I am in need of light, not hype. Then, about a week ago I came close to booking a return engagement in Mexico, but talked myself out of it. That point is not moot and entirely another post, so let's move along.

As the seasons change and I prepare to dress in layers, both with my clothing and with as many blankets I can cover myself with as I curl up in a ball in the closet, I realize just how big a realist I truly am. I know what’s coming and I will deal with the hand I’m dealt as I pick up each and every card. 

To shed some light, I read somewhere that realist is someone that has gone through hell and been purified. A pessimist is someone that's taken a similar path and been burned. 

Though I have been burned many times, I feel my purification process has evolved from my ability to understand what’s happening at the time, and my ability to swiftly remove any/all contaminants from my presence.

Just so we're clear... By contaminants, I mean complete and total bullshit!

OK, so writing that made me laugh.

Mission accomplished.

MY UNEXPECTED CHRISTMAS GIFT

For a fella that lives in Grand Cayman....
My recent tan could compete!!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 23rd, 2016

In September of 2014, I parked my butt at a small coffee shop in town to meet with a very close personal friend and co-worker.

He'd recently resigned from the company that we’d both worked for and wanted to meet to share where his journey was taking him next.

From the moment he walked up to me and hugged me, it was like not a day had passed. I remember he had so much to say to me, that he wrote me a letter.

A tad surprised, I started to read. I could feel his eyes watching me as his powerful words brought me to tears.

Well, yesterday I walked into that very same coffee shop and he was sitting at the exact table we shared in 2014. Once again, we hugged.  Just like 2+ years ago, it felt like not a single day had passed. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve spoken on the phone dozens of times; but the last time we were actually in the same time zone together was that rainy afternoon in the fall of 2014.

I don’t know about you but there are very few people I have met in my lifetime that I trust with all of my heart. Glen, is one of them. I went to work for the company he was a partner in so that I could specifically work with him. From the day I started, it was evident that his experience & knowledge were challenged by none. The other tidbit that came to fruition quickly? When we teamed together, we were unstoppable!

Anyway,  my recap aside, we agreed to meet again next week before he returns to Grand Cayman.  As I walked away I waved and yelled with a matter a fact and melodious, ‘I love you…’  Then, when I got home, I immediately opened my lock box and once again read his very powerful letter that was written September 29th, 2014.

It opened with, 'I wanted to take this time and let you know several things, as I have chosen to be so quiet over the last almost year.'  The truth of the matter is that a strong friendship like ours doesn’t need daily conversation nor being together. I guess it’s because I feel that as long as our relationship lives in the heart, as true friends, we will never be part. Chatting face to face most certainly reinforced those points for both of us.

As 2016 closes and we greet 2017, there’s one thing I know for sure. The older I get the more evident it’s become that I am in need of fewer friends. For me, though an extrovert, the premise over the past year has evolved from quantity to quality. Hence, why in the next year, I intend on embracing only those that are truly sincere.

Merry Christmas Eve all. Hug those you love and be grateful for your blessings. Life is far too short to settle for anything less.

Peace Out.

I NEED A SPECIAL KINDA HUG

Well, my lack of sleep, and plethora of outside stresses, have finally caught up with me. I’m officially ill. I’m walking around the house with a box of Kleenex stuffed up my sleeve, my head is so stuffy I feel like H.R Puff ‘n Stuff, and I have aches where I haven’t ached since… well, never mind on that one. Let's just say, I have aches. 

To make things worse, everything I touched today turned into a gigantic hunk of poo!!!

Special kinda hug? Pfft... Can't even get the old fashioned kind!

I’m bat shit bitchy, I'm wallowing in complete and total self-pity, and I need a hug.

A special kinda hug.

The kind of hug that leads straight into sex!

Problem is my husband got home from work, took one look at me and immediately announced he was sleeping on the couch. What the hell? DUDE…Suit it up and take it for the TEAM!

As a chronic hand washer I rarely feel under the weather. The last time I was ill was when I returned from Jamaica last February. I’m sure I had something incubating whilst I was there but was certainly glad I didn't spend big bucks to stay in water closet for almost a week. In this instance, I really do believe it's stress. Unexpected emotional stress. The kind of emotional stress that gets relieved by that special kinda hug I was telling you about.

This too shall pass. When it does, the first thing I'm doing is digging out my husbands very favourite piece of lingerie. I'm going to prepare his favourite dinner wearing only that. I'm going to pour some wine, run a bubble bath and light some candles. Only then, will I whisper into his ear, asking if he'd like the special kinda hug I'm telling you about. Once he whispers his answer back, I'll... 

IMMEDIATELY CHANGE INTO MY FLANNEL JAMMIES... & SLEEP ON THE COUCH.

What can I say? Turn about is fair play BABY... Turn about's fair play!

A IS FOR AMBITION

'JUST SHOW UP EACH AND EVERYDAY' ~ W.J. Schneider
DOT's PIC TAKEN: March 31st, 2014

Just so we’re clear...

I’m not talking about the kind of ambition it takes to get the hell outta bed the morning after you and your best girl friend decided to solve World Peace until the break of dawn on the cottage dock. I'm talking about the internal drive that literally comes from within.

You know, the passion and desire to always keep growing, which in turn has you moving forward and never giving up. The kind of ambition that's really easy to talk about and extremely hard to replicate.

Just look at my dog Dot...

Not even remotely a hope in hell of catching the snowball that she's set her sights on but never once did she not try her very best. I guess you can say she trusted the process to reward her, which in her case, (with my shares in Purina Milk-Bone) it always has. 

I am ambitious like Dot: yet she and I differ. I am more an analyst and somewhat a tactician. I'm sure it's because I am goal oriented but most of all, I am certain it's because I truly enjoy working toward something great.

What can I say? One post down and twenty six to go. Thank you so very much for having the ambition to finish reading my very first of this challenge.

Dot and I (and the next twenty five letters of the alphabet) are truly grateful!!

What’s It Going To Be? SALT or SEX?

Holy salt lick Batman!
Taken: July 30th, 2013

Okay, this is really quite funny so I have to share. I should start by mentioning my husband has struggled with high blood pressure for longer than I can remember.

Last night, while we were waiting for David and his girlfriend to arrive for dinner, he decided to make himself a cocktail; a very yummy Caesar to be exact. When I glanced across the kitchen counter I was shocked to see the salt lick Tony had applied to his glass. Being the shy spouse I am, I quietly broached the subject.

"TONY... What don't you understand about staying away from salt with your high blood pressure?" As he looked at me like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar I continued; "DUDE! You're going to have a friggin' stroke!!!"

Joking around I grabbed the glass off the counter, picked up my phone, and headed out to the deck. "I'm gong to Blog about this" I announced.

After taking my photo I shuffled back into the cottage. He was laughing declaring that he had slipped with the lemon juice and that he never intended to put so much celery salt on the rim of the glass.

With a great big smile, I had one other announcement to make. "You realize that once your high blood pressure causes you to have a stoke, you're bedridden and wearing a drool bib, that celibacy is not even remotely an option for me right? I handed him his glass back and we both had a good laugh.

Even though our back and forth was all in good fun; sometimes, it's takes something monumental to change a persons thought process. In this instance, I am not sure if it was the drool bib or the threat of not having sex again that hit home. All I can say is that when his cocktail was finished he was proud that he had consumed only about 50% of the salt and left the remainder on the top of the empty glass.

Either way, we're moving in the right direction!

Is Leadership Thankless?

Certain things in my day to day life are really important to me.

How I spend my time has to be number one (heck it’s one to five) because life is short. Treating people the way I want to be treated is right up there too. If I go all “Tasmanian Devil” on you, believe me there is a reason! 

I’m not proud to admit that I can unequivocally be the single biggest bitch you may ever come across but I honestly try hard not to live my life in that lane. I am thankful for who I am and what I have. As a person, I feel I am generous. When it comes to sharing my friendship, life experience (been know to snow blow a driveway or two) I am there 120%. 

So here's the final jeopardy question. When you meet (or report to) someone in a leadership role, does that automatically change your perception of who they truly are?

My favorite quote of all time is “if you want to test someone’s character, give them power” I find that statement monumental. Yep, I am a leader. I am the first to put up my hand and admit that I dressed for the job I wanted (and that I have). But on days like today I have to put this out there... Why is leadership so thankless?

No point in explaining why I am asking the question (one leads in hopes that others will gravitate to the overall philosophy that enables them to receive a bi-weekly paycheck) but I raised my voice today. I have never done that in the workplace before.

Not going to lie, it has my heart heavy and my glass of wine chilled. That said, there is one thing I know for sure....

Tomorrow is a new day and I always GREET each new day!

Do YOU Ever Feed an Expired Parking Meter?

Just about everything has an expiry date right? Do acquaintances? Not friendships but acquaintances?

Without some sort of tragedy, it’s been my personal experience, that a solid friendship stays solid for a reason.

I am very proud to have people that I have known for the better part of my life that I would do anything for. That said, I can't admit the same for a large number of acquaintances that have drifted in and out of my life in the last 30 years.

There are so many factors that lead to drifting, leaving you at the proverbial acquaintance crossroad. Job related changes, divorce is a biggie (who gets the innocent bystanders) not to mention the “by association” lane. You know the one, you meet a friend of friend and through repeat social gatherings become acquaintances. At some point you eventually stop running into each other (which leads me to my question). Do you feed the expired meter or do you just keep walking because you know if it was up to them they would choose to keep their change? It’s a tough call.

Just last week I took a good look at a parking meter I had in Kitchener. Gave it some thought and I decided to save my change. It wasn’t a decision I made in haste. At the end of the day, parking meters come and go...

Life is quirky. For the one I didn’t feed last week, two expired souls fed mine (one last night and one this morning) and it makes me wonder. I bumped into one soul unexpectedly but did the other just come across a photo of me & feed our meter?

In any case I am glad they both did.