Horseshoe Valley Resort is great for fun weekend getaways and our off-road Segway experience was a perfect way to pay homage to Arrested Development and have a little fun in the sun.

Prior to this past weekend, I’ve never been on a Segway and have really only seen them from a distance (where I immediately laughed at the people using them for city tours), they’re surprisingly easy to use. These machines are smart. There’s a speed limiter that will control how quickly you can go uphill, downhill and on flat terrain (they max out at about 20 km/h). I was told that going downhill will not feel natural at first and the only thing to remember is to not panic. So, panic? You know I did!

We did some test runs and the tour guides felt we were good to go. Onwards. We got a bit of history about the area and I rode through some fresh horse poop (whoops). I began to grow comfortable with this 100lb piece of machinery and took the lead (behind the guide, of course), we hit the steepest hill on the tour, I felt the bar cutting into my stomach, o.m.g. I think I’m falling off.  I do what any logical person in control of their vehicle would do, I jumped off. Fortunately I was smart enough to hang on to the handle bars but that wasn’t before it turned and rammed a tire into my calf. Le sigh. I failed.

The tour was fun, I wish it was longer, we took silly photos and I made a few videos. I’m ready for some show and tell. Enjoy, gang.

Because I like to look like an ass in most photos

Could totes be an ad for Segway, no? Oh you know, just a casual afternoon, off-roading and on an adventure!

A coworker passed along this post from Jezebel. Coles notes version: On last night’s episode of Bachelor Pad, female contestants were stripped down to bikinis and the male contestants were asked a series of questions one of them being Which contestant are you least attracted to? The male contestants then threw an egg at their answer – the poor, unsuspecting female. This is humiliating. No woman wants to hear they’re ugly, no less getting hit with an egg on the back to tell you you’re the ugly one. Bullying like that, even with the most confident of people, can lead to some serious mental trauma.

As this challenge progressed, one contestant in particular, Erica, was pelted with nearly every egg. The girl is not ugly, none of the people on this show are ugly, I couldn’t help but feel for this poor girl. My jaw dropped as each male contestant hit her on the target painted on her back while she was blindfolded.

I have so many things to say about this particular episode (and I only watched the 3:28 clip in the article) that I need to get this out of my system. So, in no particular order, everything wrong with reality television, life as a North American and Bachelor Pad all based on the 3 minute clip I just watched.

1. Bachelor Pad – I had to Google the show, I had no idea what the point of it was, so for those, like me, who are so out of the Bachelor Pad loop, here’s the show in a nutshell courtesy of Wikipedia: The contestants live together in a mansion and take part in challenges to prevent elimination, go on dates with contestants of their choice, and choose other contestants to eliminate and one walks away with a cash prize.

On the surface, I have a hard time feeling bad for any contestant on Bachelor Pad. For starters, you’re put on the original show to win a chance at love, rejection is inevitable. As a viewer, do you cry when people are voted off Survivor? Just because contestants’ emotions are being toyed with on Bachelor/Bachelorette/Bachelor Pad, everyone on that show is still trying to outwit, outlast and outplay the others.

In the case of the video (you must watch it if you haven’t yet, click here), I’ve admitted that at first my heart went out to Erica. It was degrading to watch these stereotypically hunky men throw eggs at her on national television. However, if you made it towards the end of the clip, you’ll see her trying to win back some confidence. Girl puts down other female contestants to rationalize the whole thing. I quote, “When there’s someone like Ella who’s definitely way bigger than I am and I don’t think she’s that pretty. Now all the girls can feel more conceited than me and they can feel more attractive than me. Like, even someone like Ella, like, I feel she can feel, like, better than me now.” For real? This is how you’re making yourself feel better after washing the egg paint/yolk off your body. Someone needs to stop competing on this show, it’s doing nothing for her self-esteem, even if Erica did end up winning the title of most attractive in the house, she’d still be unhappy.

2. Pretty People – Do tall, thin, well chest-dowed women with thick and volumonous, shampoo commercial hair actually feel entitled to more than anyone else? We allow celebrity and entertainment to place far too much focus on appearance when it should be on much more important matters. Don’t get me wrong, I am that girl who wears makeup daily, my wardrobe only consists of dresses, I accessorize and smell pretty. I’m hot and sure I appreciate when I get things for free because I’m a pretty girl but I would never go so far as to expect certain things because of this. And just because I’m pretty, does not give me the right to determine who is not at par with me in the looks department.

3. Mix of celebrity and pretty – The limelight will always seem better than reality, celebrities will always look better than us regular folk, you know why? Because there are teams of people making them look good. Think about it this way, the packaging of a legal blu-ray disc will always look better than that pirated version you bought in Chinatown – it should. There are countless hours of work put in and oodles of cash spent to ensure the appearance of that movie is appealing to the masses and it doesn’t look like something a teenager printed off in his basement. With the advances in technology and social media and the rising popularity in reality shows, the gap between regular people and celebrity has decreased, they’re so much more attainable now and many non-celebrities are trying to make the celebrity lifestyle a reality. You are not getting an invite to the Oscars, please cancel that boob job, George Clooney doesn’t want it.

What this all boils down to is this: North Americans lack confidence. We care too much about body image and getting the latest boobs, the smallest thighs, the cutest nose. And while I’m in no way condoning living an unhealthy lifestyle (do not get that Baconator!), I think we all just need to learn to love ourselves. I know, I will never be a size 2 and to be honest, I don’t want to be, my hip bones are not getting any smaller no matter how much I starve myself.  I used to be that girl who would critique every single female who crossed my path and it was never to say something positive about them. It took loads of work to discover that the reason I did this was because I was so unhappy with myself, not just how I physically looked, but the whole package. I’ve worked hard to love myself as I am, who I am, what I am and since changing my frame of mind, I’ve become a much more positive person, sure I still critique women, but it’s to let them know that they have a great dress on, their shoes are absolutely adorable, the presentation they just gave really got me thinking about how I can apply those ideas into my own life. Sure, there are times when people knock me, but I have to remind myself that the reason this person is hating on me is because they’re not happy with themselves.

Judging from the popularity of reality television and trash television, like Bachelor Pad, I suspect that the majority of North Americans are unhappy with their lives and don’t know it. It’s too easy to get stuck in the routine of wake up, eat, work, eat, work more, come home, eat, watch tv, eat, watch tv, sleep and repeat. While most in this routine are perfectly content with life, I am compelled to ask, have you really sat down to seriously consider the true state of your happiness? I don’t think it’s a coincidence that as I became a happier person, the amount of trash television I watched decreased. I no longer felt the need to zone out in front of that screen, with a bag of chips in hand, watching America’s Next Top Model and then feeling sorry for myself an hour later, once I was back to reality. I think we need to shake up our routines, shock ourselves into enlisting change in our daily lives. I’m actually living my life now, I’m constantly out and about, going to events, grabbing dinner with friends, playing sports, reading under a tree, discovering new neighbourhoods or even spending an entire afternoon cooking the most fancy meal I can from scratch and it’s amazing. I’ve never felt better about myself. What do you think would happen if you cut out one trash show from your television viewing schedule and had a free hour once a week to do something? Not in front of a screen. What would you do? Try it out.

Lastly, I’m going to end this with my favourite hashtag. This whole show and many of the things we complain about on a daily basis are cases of #firstworldproblems. Let’s find something more important to cry over.

Went to check them out at The Edge studios at Sugar Beach last night and was surprised with how intimate the performance was – there were so few of us there. I’m not complaining at all, I loved having a nearly private performance with one of my favourite live acts ever.

I saw Hey Rosetta! live before hearing any of their recorded stuff and was so impressed with the show they put on that I bought the album the moment I got home. Seriously, they’re that good.

They played an additional song for the crowd (bonus points!) and it was nice, towards the end of it, we all had a little sing along. I got the sense that the band was really enjoying it. I’m glad we all let loose a bit, during their soundcheck, I was commenting to a friend how people at a lot of Toronto shows are lame and stand staring up at the band like zombies. I then busted out a (quick) move. After their final song, they chatted with the fans, super cool band. I got to meet Tim, the lead singer and actually asked for a photo. I never ask celebrities/musicians for photos (Why? You think you’re better than me? Why aren’t you asking for MY photo? I’m dumb.)

Check out the videos from the live session below and if you’re digging them, you can click here and download their live session at the XM Studios from November 2010, for free. And if you’re in the giving mood (and you should be, they just gave you an album!), support USC Canada by leaving them a tip.

My Dad is the hardest person to shop for. I buy him something and he’ll complain about me spending money to buy something silly when he doesn’t need anything. Yet, I don’t buy him anything and he tells me I don’t love him. It’s lose/lose regardless, but I think I’ve devised a way to make this lose/lose more of a not quite winning/lose situation.

Let me paint you a detailed picture of my Dad, perhaps yours is like this, too. My Dad is an Eastern European immigrant, he and his older brother moved to Toronto to start a new life, while his 4 other siblings remained in Europe. He’s not the most loving or openly supportive of fathers, but I’m going to blame his cold exterior on the fact that he was raised in an Eastern European home where I can only imagine the children were bred to breed and farm, not love so much. He’s beaten cancer – twice, is at home on sick leave and now that he’s got all sorts of time on his hands has a perfectly manicured garden, barbecues often (but really loves to burn the crap out of the meat – I thought I hated steak but then I had the most delicious medium rare cut of meat and realized… meat can taste good, I never knew). He is very patriotic, I can attribute this to Croatia’s fairly recent independence (yes, I realize it’s not SO recent but he’s still celebrating independence). He has a satellite system set up to catch Croatian television signals because he loves to watch Croatian soap operas, Croatian Idol and Croatia’s Next Top Model (although he’d never be caught dead watching their English counterparts). He’s had a standing subscription with a Croatian magazine that he has delivered to him at the Croatian deli. He has sausage parties in the garage (not what you think) twice a year – he and his buddies get together to make the best kobasa links around. He used to play soccer but now focuses his attention on bocce and some card game, I don’t think its poker, perhaps its skopa.

That’s my Dad and no, he does not want anything to do with the Kobo, Kiehl’s facial fuel kit or an iPad this Father’s Day. Or ever.

Sound a lot like your Pop? I’ve gathered a list of items I think my Dad will thoroughly enjoy; feel free to test these ideas on your simple, yet complicated Papa, too.

Tackling the Patriot

My safest bet is usually something that has the Croatian flag all over it. The thing that’s great about this idea is, it doesn’t have to be nice. In fact the tackier, the better.

Like these Croatian soccer shorts:

Or, if you’ve got some cash money to drop, get this Croatian Grb necklace:

Although, if you’re like my family, you’ve had something like this since the baby shower the family had thrown in your (unborn) honour. So, maybe some jewelry cleaner to polish off the one he already owns.

Books Make You Smrt

My Dad used to be a huge reader, until he got his Croatian satellite set up. I want to encourage him to become less dependent on television (perhaps take a note from his daughter and do away with cable altogether). I recall him saying how much he loved reading Ernest Hemingway and had a bunch of his books that had been translated into Croatian, but (not surprisingly) a gypsy family member back in the homeland stole them from him. I’ve been sourcing out contacts (over the course of the past three years… whoops) to buy some from, do you know how difficult it’s been to find Hemingway books translated into Croatian… even with the internet.

For the Homeland, Get Ready

Power and the Money, Money and the Power, Minute After Minute, Hour After Hour. I love Gangsta’s Paradise and while my Dad won’t get that song reference, he may become a Coolio fan after watching him in Ta Divna Splitska Noc (A Wonderful Night in Split). I saw this movie in The Film Buff a few years back and have been meaning to tell my Dad about it. Basically it follows 3 storylines on New Year’s Eve night in the port city of Split, Croatia. A tale of drugs (port city, obvious drug issues), widows (and she’s probably sporting a entirely black wardrobe throughout the film) and sex (to get more drugs).

Get in Mah Belly

My father loves to cook. My brother and I thought our safest gift was to give him some sort of cookbook. This past Christmas, my brother got him a Jamie Oliver cookbook, a barbecue book and a new apron. I got him a William Sonoma fish cookbook and a coupon he could redeem with me when he had decided what his first recipe would be, I would pick up all of the ingredients for him and only bring home the freshest, best tasting fish. He’s known to host a few fish fry nights throughout the year.

He saw the cookbooks my brother gave him and scoffed at the gift, saying, “Vhat the hell is this? You no think I know how to cook?” Not the case at all, Papa. I didn’t sweat a bit when he reached for my gift, because I thought mine out a bit more. I know my Dad loves to cook and eat fish, but he always prepares it the same, tired, old way. The cookbook I got him has easy to make recipes that’ll spice up his fish dishes.

With the success of that gift, you may like to try this for your Dad. If you can’t find a specific fish cookbook, you can always scour the interwebz for simple fish recipes, type them out (obviously, give credit) and make your own, “To Papa, with fish love” cookbook. Better yet, you can offer to cook him up a recipe for Father’s Day. Cue “awwwwww”.

Back to the Homeland, Get Ready

Our original Father’s Day plan for 2011 was to send Dad back to the homeland for the summer. In a momentary lapse of judgement, my mother asked what he thought of that gift idea. His reaction? “I will not go without my wife”. Why my mother opened up the opportunity to have her man-free summer plan ruined is beyond me.

My advice to you, if you want to send your Dad back to the homeland for a few months, don’t tell him. Just do it. He’ll thank you for it. Eventually.

Bland Up this Father’s Day

You can totally ignore everything in this post and just get your Dad a pair of khaki’s or cargo shorts. Surprise Papa! This is what you’re getting on Sunday! But be sure you give him a lesson in fashion at the same time. I once bought my Pops a brown cashmere sweater, he never wore it. I called him on it and found it hilarious that he was concerned he couldn’t wear the brown sweater because he had no brown pants to match it with. That was the day my Dad learned that denim on denim is a no go.

So, good luck. Get creative. And ignore the expensive iPad emails. Chances are, your Dad misses you and just wants to spend some time with you. Then yell at you a little.

I’ve been at my job for over a month now and I’m still showing up every morning which is a good sign. I’m looking forward to getting in to the office each day. It feels great to be in a creative environment, where you feel like the opinions you have matter and are actually being heard. Where I’m not ignored or belittled when I see room for improvement and I don’t have to worry about protecting my work. I’m working in a true team environment. It’s so refreshing. It also helps that I’m a big fan of the company – it has to do with music. Sha-wing.

My apartment is so pretty, too. Who knew I’d be able to transform a ‘sad boy’ apartment into such a bright, airy, pretty place. All it took was some paint, pretty bedding, fancy bedframe and a bit of creativity when it came to rearranging the layout a bit. Even my landlord, who came by last night, was surprised at how different it looked. Good job, me. Penny loves it, too.

I was up bright and early on Sunday, ran a few errands and got prettied up for the day ahead. Olgie swung by for coffee (The Good Neighbour, such good lattes), scones (berry and white chocolate from Cobs – TO DIE FOR) and cherry blossoms (High Park Cherry Blossom Festival). Perfect morning. The cherry blossoms were gorgeous, the park was abuzz and we couldn’t have asked for better weather.

I feel that with Spring comes new beginnings. And I truly am starting my new life, right now. I’m over my transition. I’m a different, better, happier person today than I was months ago. Even a year ago. And most importantly, I truly know who I am, what I want and how to get it. I don’t focus on the negative anymore, because I’ve learned how to remove all negativity from my life and continue to move forward. I’m setting goals again, reaching those goals and challenging myself. Spring has sprung, Ivana is awesome.

And now some more pics from the cherry blossom festival.

My first attempt at Red Velvet cake, failed miserably. I really should bake with my eyes on (i.e. contacts or glasses would be grrrreat). A couple of misread ingredients, along with some experimenting on my own lead to red velvet that tasted like, well, nothing at all. Well maybe some sugar. Also, the red velvet life would be so much easier if only I had a KitchenAid Stand Mixer (anyone? anyone?).

My second attempt (in the same night) was a chocolate layer cake. I really don’t care for cakes. Who likes ‘em anyways? I for one think they are boring and one can certainly make a nice dent in one before realizing just how much they’ve eaten. A nice, portion-controlled cupcake, cookie, tart or mini pie is what I’m familiar with. What I like to stick with. So, recipe for ultimate cake wreck, boredom and my “I don’t feel like it” attitude. It was somewhere between beating the eggs and vanilla into the 2 cups (yes, 2 bloody cups) of butter and sifting a whole lotta flour where I waved my white flag and claimed defeat. Now, I sit in my bed, wracked with the guilt of wasting so much butter.

So please don’t commission me to bake you a cake. I won’t do it. You won’t want it. Great. It’s settled.

On a completely unrelated note, I bought the new Strokes album and have listened to it 3 times tonight. I love it. Even if Pitchfork gave it a 5.9/10 (I will not let that site determine my musical tastes. I will not let that site determine my musical tastes. I will not let that site determine my musical tastes.). Get it.

They’re darn tasty. So darn tasty.

No roses left when I got there

Lovers days has come and gone and I’ve survived. Actually, it’s probably the first year I really didn’t care and didn’t have a tiny stab in my heart every time I saw a man-lover rush to the flower store or walk past me bearing chocolates and stuffed toys or bags from Tiffany’s. Have I grown up a bit? Or perhaps I’m jaded? I can’t decide.

I had an awesome day hanging out with some friends, wicked BFF Solange and I met a friend of ours at Union station, she was heading up an event with Mattel. Did you know Barbie and Ken were broken up? And after a full out, nationwide plea, Barbie took him back. As any fictional love story would end, they got back together on Valentine’s Day and to celebrate, Ken was at Union handing out roses to other “dolls” while Barbie spent the day at the spa. I wish them happiness and a smooth divorce. I kid, just happiness, obviously there’s no such thing as Alimony Barbie (yet). I’m looking at my photo with the Ken’s and I can’t help but wish I had a better plastic doll pose, that left hand of mine is a little too awkward.

After meeting some friends for beer and wings, Solange and I caught a screening of Blue Valentine, pegged the ultimate anti-valentine movie. I was looking forward to it and was surprised when I saw a large number of loving couples in the audience, I thought…. ummm, you’re in love, get out of here. While I love both Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams, I was highly disappointed with this movie. I was looking for more fighting, more drinking, more abuse and it just wasn’t there, so when it ended I found myself wondering, well, how did that relationship end? Isn’t that normal? I guess not – looks like Solange and I have been missing out on Disney fairy tale love.

In reading a few reviews of the film, some critics didn’t like how sad it was. Really? I didn’t leave feeling one bit saddened. I didn’t shed one tear. I love sad movies and that’s what I wanted, darn it. It certainly was no Marley and Me where I left a mess and had teenage girls laugh at me (just you wait ’til you put down your first pet, silly innocence). I hate to admit this, but I think I felt more emotion and such after watching The Break-Up… it was totally realistic, n’est pas?

I’ve going to wrap this up before I embarrass myself any more. So what have we learned today? I have poor taste in films and should practice my doll stance in the mirror more often.

I feel like a teenage girl waiting for that cute guy I kissed on the weekend to call me back. Except, I’m not waiting for a guy to call me back and as a side note, teenage boys weren’t interested in teenage Ivana – I had yet to grow into my face. And was a bit weird.

Have been staring at my phone non-stop for the past few days. Checking my emails and ensuring I haven’t missed any voice mails.

Also, am welcoming distractions. Besties dropped by the shop today bearing coffee (which I had no time to pick up on the way to work this morning) and a cookie. More guests like this, please.

Please, I just need/want you to tell me I’m awesome. Because I really am. Kthxbai.

Tribute to Johston's school photo days. Lasers.

Allo, allo. Seems silly posting this on one of the more mild nights this winter, however, I do wonder… how many of you turn down your thermostat on milder winter nights? Seriously, though. Observing my folks in their home, it’s safe to say they keep the thermostat on the same temperature all winter long.

I say this because I just spent the last little while (errr, fine, half hour) getting sweatered (see inset photo). You see, February 17th is National Sweater Day presented by WWF Canada and Loblaw. If you find yourself relaxing at home, in a tee, shorts and bare feet in mid-winter, you should challenge yourself to turn down your thermostat and throw on a sweater, some pants and slippers. Really, you can turn it down 3 degrees, easy peasy.

What’s in it for you? Well, aside from the potential savings on your hydro bill, you too can have a totally awesome portrait, like mine. It took me a while to get the face colouring just right (I couldn’t bring myself to go any lighter, it was starting to scare me). And, not to get all crunchy granola, but do we really need to use more heat than necessary? There’s a reason winter clothing comes with long sleeves and thicker material, it’s for both indoor and outdoor use. Let’s try to reduce on environmental footprint and make this a permanent change to our day to day lives, capice? I highly doubt you’ll notice the difference.

So get involved and make it fun. Find a hideous sweater and get cozy.