Random Long Weekend Thoughts

The Targeted Ads Algorithm Is Broken

Several times a week I am the bemused recipient of advertisements for various stylish online shops, and currently, they are exclusively showing me jumpsuits. Jumpsuits! God bless you all for wearing and enjoying them, but the day I wriggle this mortal body into a piece of clothing that, by its very design, will end up puddled up on the bathroom floor every single time I use the facilities, is the day I find myself, as one of my senior yoga students said yesterday, on the wrong side of the grass.

At least the first few advertisements were black; I’m trying to envision myself wearing an exotic-floral print of anything and failing. I also seem to get a lot of advertisements for floral, one-piece bathing suits, which are right up there with tailored shorts on the list of things I am not going to wear, ever. I mean, I have worn them, in my checkered past, but never again. As we live, we grow.

A while back the Co-Op stopped giving out gas coupons and instead began sending something called Me-Wards, which I assumed would be tailored to my consumption habits, given the Me-Wards are linked to my account. Sadly, it appears there is no linkage whatsoever, or if there is, it’s so cryptic that no one could ever decipher the algorithm within. This week, my Me-Wards include frozen pizza, Coke products, some kind of cookie, and fresh Atlantic cod fillets so that I can, as it suggests, make my own chowder. Co-Op, it’s like you never knew me at all.

Getting the Girls Checked

It’s that time of the year again to get the girls checked out. I always smile in the change room when I see the directions on “how to tie a medical robe” because yes, I have gone into my mammogram with the robe on the wrong way. So if you ever wonder who would need these directions it is I who needs them. I asked the technician today, as she neatly arranged my sad excuse for a breast on the machine, if this was a strange kind of job to have. It’s actually really fascinating! she said enthusiastically. And everyone’s breasts are so different, so it’s never boring! I appreciated her zest, it’s refreshing to see someone so excited about their work. She handed me a remote control so I would have autonomy over the squishiness of the procedure, which is a new thing, I guess. Just go ahead and press the “plus” button until you feel you can’t stand it anymore, she said, and when I did this she became alarmed. Okay, stop, that’s enough, STOP! I think she thought I was going to flatten myself completely like a cartoon character run over by a steamroller.

Circling back to the robe, the first thing the technician did after confirming my birth date and being reassured that no, there is NO chance I’m pregnant, was ask me to remove it. Why then does it matter if it’s on the wrong way or not if it’s only going to be immediately removed? Perhaps it’s a medical robe faux pas? Perhaps it’s a conspiracy among diagnostics centres to make us all into uniform patients? Most likely, though, is that tying it in the back is actually quite difficult and feels ridiculous and really, who would do such a thing? Who indeed.

It’s Mini-Egg Season

I’m quite proud of how these little cuties turned out:

I took a recipe from my old copy of The Lutheran Ladies’ Family Favourites for “haystack cookies,” modified it by using coconut oil and cutting the sugar by a third, and then molded them into little nests. I’m nesting!

I feel extraordinarily crafty now; the next step is to figure out how to draw a bunny as I’m dividing up Lindt truffles into little paper bags for our Easter egg hunt this weekend. I usually give the boys – yes, they are teens but they still like chocolate eggs – a cryptic lists of hints, for a treasure hunt. This year I was feeling quite ambitious as I wrote a few poems for the hints; I wrote the kind of poems they learned about in school: limerick, tanka, haiku, acrostic, and couplet.

You may be saying to yourself, who doesn’t know how to draw a bunny? Well, the same person who has been known to tie her medical robe incorrectly, that’s who.

It’s Birthday Season

As puzzling as the Me-Wards are for Co-Op, I was gratified to see this on offer in my inbox:

I also refer to April as my birthday month; a mere DAY is not really enough to celebrate, is it? Last weekend we visited my parents and my mom made me my favourite strawberry-angel food cake, complete with pink non-dairy whipped cream. I have always had a pink cake on my birthday.

Pink cake goes beautifully with red wine; two of my favourite things. This year, for the first time ever, my birthday falls on Easter, and so I guess that means extra mini-eggs coming my way!

Speaking of red wine, my husband/ Santa gave me a beautiful bottle of Amarone in my stocking this year; I think this is the weekend to open it!

Happy long weekend to you all, and Happy Easter to all who celebrate. May your blessings and chocolates be many! xo


  1. Okay, while I feel the SAME WAY about jumpsuits (with the pooling and the never), I can see how they would look fantastic on you.

    Happy birthday, and happy Easter!

  2. Favorite parts:

    1. “As we live, we grow.”
    2. “I appreciated her zest, it’s refreshing to see someone so excited about their work.”

  3. bibliomama2 says

    I thought the same as Suzanne – me and jumpsuits and never the twain shall meet, and yet that black apparently life-changing number would look smashing on you. And I live in fear of doing the medical robe wrong. My favourite appointment was the one where they told me to put on one backwards and one forwards. Never have I felt so secure in a medical robe.

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