To Do: Play Golf

Continuing with my obsession with things I now nothing about, I want to talk about playing golf.

I honestly never cared about golf, I think all I know about golf is that Tiger Woods is the best and Mark Weir is Canadian, that you wear preppy clothes and that some private clubs are awfully expensive.

Last year, people at my office got an invitation for a corporate golf tournament. My coworkers at the time (two awesome chicks) were quite excited, they had been practicing their "swing" and were really looking forward to this event, then I heard the guys were also participating, and suddenly I felt a little looser-ish.

To Do: Learn to dance Tecktonik

Electronic Dance, Vertigo or most commonly known as Tecktonik, is a dance created in Belgium that mixes styles such as popping, locking and tecno.
But Adriana, you may ask, if you say you dislike elecronic music, why do you want to learn Tecktonik? Well, the aswer is rather simple, it looks fun and all the cool kids are doing it. Off course, all those cool kids are probably under 20, but who am I to judge?
It is a dance with many qualities. First, you wear mohawks! second, up to a certain point, anyone could dace tecktonik, one just throws their arms in the air, like you just don't care.

To Do: Go to an After Hour or a Rave

I'm not a big fan of electronic music. On my Ipod I don't think I have nothing else than rock, Latin-Cuban music, oldies and the odd folk or country song. Throw in a dash of Pop if you want. I work out to The Killers and I have no interest whatsoever in drugs, so why do I want to go to an after hour?


You will realize in this blog that the latest trend in my life is to follow. I still won't follow you do anything illegal, so don't ask. I mean, follow in the sense of discovering what other people around me enjoy.

To Do: Read The Canadian Press Stylebook and Caps and Spelling book

I need to get around to read the" Canadian Press Stylebook" and its companion "Caps and Spelling". Those are one of those books I feel so proud to have on my personal library, along with "The Bible" and the "Complete Guide to Getting it On".

I bought them for my journalism class, they were the most expensive books I ever bought at around 100$ for both. They are supposed to be your guide, your reference. By the end of the semester, people expect these books to look like a they had lived a rough life, to at least bear a coffee stain or two, you know, to show you care.

To Do : High Tea, British style.

Since I posted the list of things I wanted to do before I’m 30. I thought I ought to explain a couple of them, before my friends started questioning my sanity.

I have an obsession with high tea, the way the British used to do. I giggle when people mention the word “crumpet” and I squeal in my head every time I see a scone. When I pass by in front of pastry shops and the tea department of my local supermarket my brain is wired to display images of pink paisley teacups, my best friends wearing pastel cardigans and big hats.

I sometimes daydream that I get invited to attend such event. I can picture the fine china, the twice polished silver trays and cutlery, lace fabric everywhere. There are cucumber sandwiches (my personal favorite), scones (cheese please), cupcakes (for the sake of modernity) and lots of dark teas that, in reality, I would never even taste.

I wished I could say I dream of a tea party like the one of Alice in Wonderland, with fun characters and crazy adventure, but NO, I dream of the constricting etiquette, matching napkins, air kisses and pinky fingers in the air. The widest variation I could think off would be a "bridge" match afterwords. I can see myself growing white hairs right now.

Well, the way I see it I must crave some kind of structure. Structured fun, structured eating. Maybe it is just and obsession I have with pastries, it might be just the result of my estrogen levels. Femininity does not come easy to me, so if I have to wish for a tea party themed birthday to fulfill my womanhood quota, so be it.

Now if you excuse me, I have to go get myself a very French croissant.

To Do List

These are some things that I want to do before I'm 30. In no specific order:

Sky dive
Dress up for a club
Learn to swim
Scuba dive
Learn to Sky
Visit 10 countries
Go to a Rave
Learn a fourth language (properly)
Get in shape
Wear shorts
Give a conference or class
Create custom invites
Model
Finish a big painting
Wear a bathing suit and enjoy the experience
Find a pastime to be passionate about
Find a job to be passionate about
Marry job to pastime to be passionate about
Drive a scooter
Try mountain climbing
Heal my knees
Being able to meditate
Lose the last 10 pounds (and keep them off)
Enjoy my youth
Finish a degree
Earn 100 000K a year
Become an expert at something
Dress the way I think I should
Find a spiritual path
Volunteer to a charity
Sponsor a child in need
Find a pair of jeans that fit me properly
Go on a trip with girlfriends only
Go on a trip by myself alone
Win a contest
Plan an event from A to Z
Sing on a record
Pick up photography again
Write an article for a magazine I actually read
Meet the Sartorialist
Take hip-hop dance lessons
Learn to dance dancehall
Learn to play drums
Own a home
Learn to drive a standard shift car
Become neat and organized
Learn to say no!
Learn to say Hell Yes!
Work at the UN or on the diplomatic service
Start my own company
Get invited and attend a ball
Find a reason to wear a (not a weeding) gown
Added: Learn to dance Tectonik
Added: Learn to do cartwheels
Have High Tea, British style
Get a tattoo
Go to That store

I'll try and explain the reasoning behind these on this blogg and I'm sure I'll add some more.

Done: Get Tattoo

So I posted last week that I wanted to get a tattoo. Since I'm insane, I decided I would do it that same week.

It wasn't something impulsive, au contraire mes amis, it was just the conclusion to a couple of years of careful preparation. I was just waiting for the right moment. It was easy to recognize it was the right time.

I had found the idea that I wanted to keep with me forever, the statement that was going to follow the rest of my life, or at least try.

I also found someone I trusted enough to let them carve on my skin.

But most of all, I was no longer hesitant. I no longer cared what my bosses or my friends would say.

Some people don't make a big deal out of people's appearance, some do. There is nothing I can do. After all, what matters is how I feel about myself and how I present myself to others.

I decided to get the tattoo on the inside of my forearm. Quite visible if you ask me. And I would not have it any other way.

I actually wanted to tattoo my hand, but somehow my tattoo artist suggested I don't. After thinking about all the other possibilities (ankle, inside arm, etc...) I chose the forearm. If I wanted a tattoo, I wanted something I could see myself, all the time. Because for me it is not really an ornament, this tattoo is a reminder.

Let this be clear, I'm not a fan of pain, I've very often been described as hypochondriac and a wuz. Lets just say I proved everyone right that Friday. My friends knew I would need moral support so Stephanie, Dominique and Nik showed up.

Before the needle was out of its package, I had already freaked out. When the tools were ready and the gun was buzzing, I withdrew my hand and proceeded to laugh like a mental patient, after five minutes of uncontrollable hysteria I was finally able to sit straight and let the poor guy touch my arm.

It hurt. Not as much as I thought it would, quite bearable, still, those are 20 minutes I'll never forget. Yes, it took only twenty minutes. Quick and efficient.

I think my friends also enjoyed the experience, they love me, but they also enjoy my suffering or my theatrics, I still have a hard time understanding the nuances of their appreciation.

I'm glad I went ahead with this idea, every day I see this reminder and I'm sure it wasn't a mistake, I'm under the impression that as the days go by and I grow older and wiser, I'll love it even more.