Category Archives: Life

Holy Moley

Things are happening. Good? Or bad? Not too sure yet.

Help! I’ve Lost my Green Thumb

I’ve decided to grow a little herb garden this summer. My father was so kind to start me off and planted rosemary, parsley, basil and thyme and they were thriving. Now… not so much.

My father’s is an amazing gardener, he’s been home on sick leave for the past few years so he’s been tending to his massive garden daily to keep busy. It’s fabulous – lettuce, scallions, cucumbers, tomatoes and so much more. It’s great, S and I have been benefitting from it big time. I’m afraid to ask him for advice because he’s going to make fun of me and push my buttons, it won’t end well, so I’m reaching out to you.

I had moved my pots outside over the weekend, perhaps it’s too hot for them because they’ve wilted. I brought the parsley in because I read that it doesn’t like direct sunlight so much. I put the thyme in the shade and the basil and rosemary are left in the sun. I’ve watered the basil and rosemary daily. I’ve let the soil for the thyme go dry before I water it again and water the parsley every other day. What am I doing wrong?

I’ve done a search online and keep getting conflicting care instructions. Do you guys have a go-to gardening site that can help me take care of my herbs? Eeek.

Looking for a Win

I don’t like to lose and I like a good challenge. I’m not a sore loser, I don’t cry about it or throw a fit, but winning does feel better. I was cutting up some watermelon slices last night and had a flashback to a time when I lost… big time.

I was 12, it was summer. My brother and I would normally spend our summers lazying about and waiting for our parents to come home from work so they could take us to our soccer games, that was it. We were never the children who got to go to summer camp, it was never something my parents considered. One morning, my Dad was home from work and gathered my brother and I in his car, he drove us to the Croatian Park. Don’t be frightened, it just a place associated with our local church where we have mass and picnics and play soccer – I’ve taken non-Croatians there, too.

We loved the Croatian Park. There was a pool, we could dig through the Credit River for crayfish and minnows and snails. It was fun. Although, on this day, Dad had something else in mind for us. The Nuns from the church were holding a play day for the kids. I LOVE PLAY DAYS. I mean, who doesn’t love getting dirty, running around, having fun and sometimes, winning.

We were divided into teams (my brother and I were not together) and it was strange but people from my age group seemed to be missing, they were all older or much younger than me. I recall my team members not selecting me to participate in any of the games, until it came to the watermelon eating contest. I mean I wasn’t a chunker but I did like to eat and maybe the haircut I had at the time made my face look a lot fatter. Basically, they thought I would have no problems throwing a large slice of watermelon back. Little did they know…

… I was a picky eater. I loved watermelon, I really did. However, I was spoiled and my parents would buy only seedless watermelon or pick out the black seeds for me. Worry came over my face as I spotted the black seeds in my slice. What was I going to do? There was no time to think or tell someone that I wasn’t going to do well. So I did what I thought would work best, I laid there on my stomach, picking each and every seed out of the melon. Needless to say, I lost. My team was not pleased and I may have been really ashamed of my picky eating habit.

So, having done away with my picky eating years ago, I’m ready to participate in a watermelon eating contest again. I’m going to have a picnic this summer with friends and such. There will be a contest and I may lose but I don’t care, I don’t want to live with this on my shoulders any longer. I’ll announce a date sometime soon so if anyone wants to come, participate, make signs and cheer feel free.

Must start practicing.

Ivana S., Silversmith

I’ve never been very good at arts and crafts. I recall one time in fourth grade art, we were making pumpkins out of construction paper, strips were cut and glued to the background, an inch was to be left between each strip. I remember finishing mine and I can’t say I was please with the outcome. Do you know how difficult it is to cut construction paper with right-handed scissors when you’re left-handed? Needless to say, my artwork was scrutinized and i was told not to rush through my projects. My suggestion of possibly getting some scissors for the one left-handed student wasn’t well received and I continued to struggle through art.
This past Christmas, S bought me a silversmith course at The Devil’s Workshop. It’s a great place! I took part in a 7 week course in which I got to create two projects. One, a ring:

It’s made of brass and a yellow beryl gemstone. I made it entirely from scratch and am so proud of it. The band has this great texture, I had hammered it all around, so it looks dented, like this. Hmmm, I wonder if I can charge something like that for this ring? Perhaps if it were made of gold and my last name was Picasso.

The second project,  a necklace, is my favourite. This one took a bit more time, as expressed earlier in this post, I’m not very good with scissors, can you imagine me with a saw? However, I had surprised even myself, I wasn’t half bad at it (I won’t even point out the mistake I may have made). I didn’t realize when I had chosen this design how difficult it could be. The design itself is fairly simple, take a look:

You like? Doesn’t my iPhone take half decent photos? I had to solder all of those leaves onto the piece of wire but it was challenging as heck. Imagine trying to place a piece of metal about a millimeter around  (ever so gently) on top of each of those leaves as they sit next to (not yet affixed) the wire branch. Breathing was not allowed, as I learned, after blowing them away on several occasions. And a steady hand is so important, I think I have the early stages of my Baka’s (Grandma’s) shaky hand syndrome. Nooo!

You can’t tell in this photo but the bird and branch are one piece now and sit on a lovely silver chain that goes down to my ribs. It’s fabulous and I’m wearing it right now and almost every day since I had finished it.

If you’re in Toronto and looking for great jewelry making classes or to buy some great original, handmade jewelry, check out The Devil’s Workshop. Sarah, my instructor, is great, super creative and extremely patient. Class sizes are small, about 6, so it almost feels like a personal class.

And if you’re getting married and want to add a great personal touch to the event, there’s a class available for you. You’ll both create wedding bands. How awesome is that?

Now that I’ve proven to myself that I can in fact make something artsy, I think I can finally let go of my fourth grade art class complex.

Caffeine Poisoning

Now that I’m in a coherent state and my caffeine shakies have subsided, I can share with you this PSA: With summer around the corner, tank tops and shorts are coming out to fight the heat and iced lattes are being purchased to cool down. Please drink your iced lattes responsibly.

Don’t laugh. I’m serious here.

Last night, I had some time before my class, was in hipster central, the sun was shining, I was in front of Trinity Bellwoods and next to a Starbucks. The scene just called for a grande iced latte. I don’t know if it was because it’s a nice cold drink but it’s just so easy to drink up in minutes, like milk (but tasty). After sucking back that grande it was about time to head to class. I didn’t have enough time to grab anything for dins so I decided to stop in at The Swan diner next door and pick up a coffee. I guess I didn’t realize that when I said, “coffee” it meant, “Americano”. I picked up my cup, paid the man and was off to class.

So, let’s tally up the amount of espresso shots I had ingested in about an hour’s time: Starbucks – 1 grande iced latte = 2 espresso shots, The Swan – 1 Americano = 2 espresso shots. Shots consumed in 60 minutes: 4. Way over my limit. Or so I learned.

At about 8, a bad migraine came on. Add to that a terrible nauseous feeling just as class was ending. Walking to my car was painful. I could feel something in the back of my throat. This wasn’t going to be pretty. I somehow managed to drive home, in a semi-conscious state and willing myself to make it home without vomiting. Success. That was until I got in the door and ran to the washroom.

I was in rough shape last night, guys. Aside from being sick, I was seeing things, hearing things, my head was spinning, uncontrollable shakes, shivering cold, racing heart, shortness of breath, googly eyes, talking nonsense and so weak I could barely stand.

S got me ready for bed, tucked me in and stayed up until I was sound asleep. Bless him. I managed to sleep for a few hours but was up at 3 and could not get back to sleep. Thank goodness for the internet, otherwise what was I going to do? My mind could not handle plot from any of the books I’m reading at that time (and in that state).

So please, learn from my mistake and don’t take several shots of espresso within such a short period of time. Stay safe, drink smart. Enjoy summer (whenever it comes, because it’s now zero and miserable).

Charity Work

I was speaking with a friend this week who’s signed up to ride 50km in Becel’s Ride for Heart, she asked if I’d be participating this year. Once I stopped laughing, I was able to tell her, “no”. I’ve been a part of this charity bike ride twice, the first time biking 25km and the second, an ambitious 75km ride. The second year, was the worst day of my life.

It wasn’t one of those charity events that was painful but totally worth it in the end. It was a grueling day, windy and rainy. I had no one to bike with, poor planning on my part. And the handlebars on my bike along with the kickstand fell apart during the ride. I left disgruntled and didn’t care about who the event was benefiting. I didn’t think this ever happened.

However, this conversation got me thinking. What am I going to do this year? I’m always supporting some charity each year and it usually ties in with some sort of physical activity (bike ride, walk, etc). This year though, I think I’m taking a break *sighs from all family and friends who can close their wallets tightly now*. This year’s been tough (and we’re only through the beginning of the 3rd month!), so I’ve decided to support the charity of Ivana. I’m going to take care of myself and work on becoming a happier person.

I’m at a crossroads where I need to decide what I want to do and how to go about doing it and I don’t like it. All this time, I thought I was an adult already but looking back, life seemed easier than it should be, like it was when I was a teenager. Is there such a thing as a quarter-life crisis?

So that’s my plan. I’m going to focus on staying fit, doing things I love because I love them (and not for anyone else), taking care of those I love, eating right. The biggest thing is, start doing what I love. I think I lost sight of that about a year ago and it’s just hit me now, in fact it’s knocked me in the head and I’ve still got a bump on my noggin’ from it.

What am I taking away from this post? Be happy. That’s all. Easier said than done. A start is hitting up youtube for some smiles (17 seconds in is where the good stuff comes):

I can run

I hate running. It’s really killer. I get bored and my mind tires before my legs do. However, when I’m running after something (for example, a soccer ball), I can go for miles and miles before I’m tired. I guess my competitive nature keeps me going.

For Christmas, Boy’s parents signed us up for a race with the Running Room. It was only 5km, but I don’t think I’ve ever run 5km outdoors. And I’ve never run outdoors in December with ice and snow and puddles. The good thing is that I have done it on a treadmill. That’s a start, right?

We show up, bright and early, morning of the run and still full from Christmas/Boxing Day dinners. I did a quick stretch and picked out a spot as close to the front as I could get before interfering with the serious runners. Boy’s Dad and I were ready to go.

How long before I needed wanted a break? Just over halfway (although I did not know this at the time). I really was convinced that I was tired but not long after we began walking briskly did I spot a runner walking to his car. I said, “Could this be true? Is it really almost done? Or is he just lightening fast?” Probably a bit of both. But I barely spat out the last bit of that sentence before Boy’s Dad asked if I wanted to sprint the rest of the way… to my back as I was already well on my way to the finish line.

I crossed the finish line with a huge smile on my face. Why? Well, I beat my personal best by 3 minutes (I normally run 12 minute miles). I also learned that I’m silly and need to push myself harder. Lastly, I was able to find a competitive side to running, beating me. We’re signing up for another run on Valentine’s Day, how sweatily romantic. Triathalon, you’re now just eons light years away.

A Year in Review

I’m sitting in my living room, thankful that my cold has plugged up my ears because Boy is just a wee bit loud watching Canada vs. Switzerland in the World Juniors. I’m trying to work up the energy to take down my Christmas decorations but really think they can stay up just one more day, after all garbage day is on Tuesday.

2009 was a great year. I grew, learned and loved. It all started off with pre-teen Ivana’s dream come true:

Went to jail (well, not really).

Travelled to Newfoundland.

Got sick and forgot about the icebergs and whales surrounding me.

Hiked a mountain. Stepping in moose droppings, with a terrible cold/sinus infection.

Learned that you CAN swim in Lake Ontario (without growing a third eye).

Discovered that there is such a thing as too much pizza.

Took in a Cubbies game at Wrigley Field. Did not eat peanuts but indulged in some Cracker Jacks.

Moved to the Beach with Boy and Pennysnacks. Participated in a 60km walk for Breast Cancer research and cried a whole lot of the way, because I’m emotional like that. I’m likely taking a deep breath here, willing myself not to cry.

Had one of the greatest birthdays ever with two of my besties.

Felt like I was in Europe while shopping along the oldest street in Canada in Quebec City.

Went dog sledding through the woods on a cute little island in Quebec.

And rang in the new year with my love.

I’ll have more about Quebec City in the next little while but for now, I must recover. Happy 2010, friends! xoxo

Le sigh

I sometimes feel like I put too much pressure on myself and get extremely disappointed when things don’t go quite as I had planned.

For instance, this week I found myself saying, “It’s only Monday and I’m already wishing it was Friday”. Bad times. It was only when I reached my lowest point that night, slipping in the office parking lot and landing right hard on my bottom, where I found myself in tears asking WHAT THE FUCK?! A stressful day turned to a stressful, bad news day. Even boot camp didn’t make me feel better. I went home to see Boy before my dodgeball game that night and balled yet again. I know, I’m totally playing the victim… which I hate.

So after enduring a fairly painful day, did the heavens above grant me peace for the remainder of the night? Yeah, right. I’m now gimpily typing this post after spraining my pinkie finger during dodgeball on Monday. Who the eff sprains their finger with a foam ball?

Post dodgeball game, my team and I went for beers, I deserved a beer after the day I had. Beers were great, company was better but of course I could not end the night on a happy note. Did I not find a parking ticket waiting for me? Granted, my own fault, but seriously there’s 1 hour parking rules on side streets in the Annex after 6 and before midnight? Since when?

Fortunately, I was able to crawl into bed and end the night with Boy whispering positive words of wisdom into my ear, as I read David Sedaris. Obladi oblada. Life goes on, rahhhh.

Also, discovered new photo that will take the negative Nancy out of anyone. I can’t believe I’m making this public.

Me, as Dwight, this Halloween

Me, as Dwight, this Halloween

Frightening! Peace out.

Another year, a new resolution

Not a premature New Years post. I promise. The day I interrupted my Mother’s peaceful birthday night that consisted of her watching The Sound of Music (her favourite movie, ever) by sending her to the hospital in labour. Best. Birthday. Present. Ever. Translation: My birthday’s coming up in a couple of weeks. I’m not looking forward to it.

Yes, I am too young to be saying that. However, this year I’m the big 2-5. Meaning, I can no longer check off that desired 18 – 24 box anywhere. I’m officially 25 – 34. That’s rough.

I’ve taken some time over the past few weeks to reflect. Am I where I want to be? Physically, yes. I’m working hard on living a healthy (or healthier) life, I’m living with a dude I adore, I have an amazing pet and a job. Am I where I hoped to be career-wise? I’m not sure. I had this idea when I finished high school that I was going to be ahead of all my high school friends in terms of career. I finished high school a year earlier and got out of college a year before them. I had two years to work before them, I was expecting big things. I was thinking I’d be a manager at some ad agency by the time they finished school. I wanted to be successful. Unfortunately things haven’t gone as planned. I suppose I didn’t account for my age holding me back. I’ve been a coordinator for 4 years and although I know my stuff and go above and beyond, I feel like I don’t get the respect of someone older, or even a male my age. Maybe it’s my bubbly personality, perhaps it’s the tone of my voice. Whatever it is, it’s holding me back. Am I happy? Relatively so. I mean I can’t really complain but things could always be better, right?

So, my post-reflection conclusion/resolution?

a. Don’t compare myself to friends (or anyone for that matter). It only allows for self-sabotage.

b. I’m smart and totally awesome. I will reach my career goals soon!

c. Cut out the uptalking.

d. Start pronouncing my name the way it should be pronounced.

K, so d. came out of nowhere. I was talking to a lady at reception this week and she said my full name and it sounded like the most disgusting thing ever. You see, most everyone (aside from Boy and my very Croatian family members) pronounce my name the English way, I’ve always introduced myself that way. Like this:

I (like the ‘i’ in igloo) – von (think von bondies) – a

From this day on, I’m pronouncing it the real way, it flows so much better:

E (long e) – va – na

Hmmm, must figure out how to record my voice pronouncing both, it may make more sense then.

Alright folks, so get to it! E (long e) – va – na! You’ll get used to it, trust me.