Put Some Mussel Into It

Heh, get it?? Mussel?


I’ve got a new recipe for you guys! I threw this together last night and it was a huge hit. No leftovers sort of success. And it was simple. Because, this is me. And I tend to love simplicity in my kitchen mid week. I have a confession: I’m not much of a pasta person. Generally speaking, pasta more than once every other week or so is considered too much for me, but when I do pasta, I don’t mess around. Maybe because of my general aversion to the carby overload, I feel the need to up the dish on the nights I give in. Last night was no exception.

Mussels cooked in white wine and transferred to Continue reading Put Some Mussel Into It

From The Depths Of Zero Fashion Sense

Tom boy Liz, in all her glory, has been known to rock soccer shorts, baggy man tees, ripped jeans (not the fashionable ones…I take care of tears all on my own), stained tank tops and mis-matched socks with shoes that have reached a point that no manufacturer envisioned for them. I’d like to say those days are long gone, but I confess to still being clad in massive sweat pants and shirts with holes in them way too often. If you ever intended to pick up some fashion tips from this blog, just click the little ‘x’ in the corner – I’ve got nothing for you.

My employment history easily assists in an explanation as to my pathetic style-sense. I’ve worked in scrubs and clothes that are guaranteed to get torn and dirty on a potentially daily basis. Animals aren’t the most considerate of fashion and I’ve (not so unwillingly), abided by their rules.

Now, without the excuse of animal interference, I’m faced with learning the art of being presentable on a regular basis. Sure, I can clean up when I need to. I’ve obviously not been totally hopeless. Living in a house of five girls, having a ‘girly’ best friend and maturing have all aided to my overall comprehension of how to dress. Malls are still places of struggle, dressing rooms mind as well be chasms and ask my opinion on accessories and I can promise a stare filled with mild confusion and a hint of fear. Oh and make-up? Nope. Just nope – Let’s leave it at that.

With this new path I’m wandering along in life, I’ve had to encourage the style-aware part of me to take some reins. It’s a sad truth that the way we look greatly affects how we do in life. It’s why theories such as the Halo vs Horns affect exist. Sure there are exceptions to the rule, but vaguely speaking, we’re judged a lot by how we carry ourselves. I’m not horrendous looking, but I’m far from stunning. Add some frayed jeans and ill-fitted shirts, and I’m barely grazing a 5/10. Professionally speaking, I’m in need of a re-vamp.

I’m not good at this. It doesn’t come naturally. Yet, what in life really does? Even the creative of us need practice to affirm those skills, and those fresh out of school need a little guidance in a new work place. There’s rarely just ease. Not being a natural at something is a poor excuse. It means that getting to the finish line may take longer, but at least your staying in the race. I’m working on myself. On my confidence, my style and even my hair. I need to up my game in every department now that I’m pursuing this new life. Be honest in my efforts and commit to each little step that may get me closer to my goals. It may seen like an insignificant change, but if it can, in any way, vouch for my word on how much I want this, then it’s big enough for me.

Cheers to a year of keeping track.

Once Upon A Time, I Was A Vegetarian

Hot dogs, mac and cheese, pb&j sandwiches and a total avoidance of the colour green on my plate. Those were my staples growing up. I was a picky kid to say the least. My parents would demand I not leave the dinner table until my veggies were gone. Luckily for me, I’ve never been short on stubborn flare and yes, I was THAT child; the one wrapping broccoli in paper towel and feeding the dog one pea at a time.

Fast forward almost a decade and I found a new cause for stubborn antics. It happened unceremoniously. On a trip home from my summer job before my first year of university. I sat at the dinner table with my family, a juicy steak fresh off the barbecue on the plate before me. Unenthusiastically, for no obvious reason, I cut a piece and put it in my mouth. Chewing slowly, something just clicked. I gently placed my knife back on the place mat and realized I wasn’t going to finish that steak.

For years I avoided meat. People would constantly ask me why, as though this choice were an insult to our evolution. I never understood the point in pressing for a reason…maybe it was the simplest conversation starter, or perhaps we just inherently seek cause or reason for choices – we seek validity through those around us. I stopped eating meat because I just did. I can list tons of reasons to back up why if I wanted. All I’d really have to do it point you in the direction of the shocking documentary, Earthlings, and it would all become a mute point. Sure, I disagreed with most farming techniques we use for our meat, and I feared what I was putting into my body due to my knowledge of the steroids and questionable diets my food had been raised on, and of course I love animals. I’d known all the facts before I put down that knife, but I hadn’t considered them in relation to my own eating habits. I became a vegetarian because I looked at the meat before me, and just didn’t want to eat it.

When I looked again years later, and I did want to, I did. There weren’t hoops to jump through or personal battles waged. I’m conscious about what I put into my body and like to consider most food choices I make to be, for the most part, smart. That said, I don’t turn my nose up to desserts all the time and I enjoy my cheat days to their fullest. One of the best lessons to learn in life is to enjoy yourself. To be true to who you are and follow the path that makes you happiest. You can let yourself explore all options and never feel criticized, judged or questioned. Never forget that you’re living for you.

Cheers to a year of keeping track.

Quiche It Up

I love eggs. Vegans, you guys both impress and worry me. Oh and cheese. Cheese is great also…it doesn’t worry me. But does further question the sanity of the vegans. Anyways, moving on. I’ve been quite lazy in the kitchen this past week or so. My sole accomplishment, (aside from finally figuring out poached eggs over an induction oven), was a delicious quiche Continue reading Quiche It Up

Pursuing Writing. For Serious

Committing myself to writing each day has been super trying. My brain has been very strictly kept tracing along a scientific dotted line for years and now I expect and demand creativity on a daily basis. That’s actually just cruel of me. Yet, here I am. Still writing.

This isn’t something I believed myself capable of. I’ve never thought my writing strong or sure enough to carry me. A gamble as big as I’ve taken is almost laughable with that track record. When I was a kid I danced through career potentials and landed firmly on Zoologist for the greater portion of my youth. It actually wasn’t until applying for university that I ‘responsibly’ sought more job rich studies. Hence, Environmental Resource Management. Funnily enough, I was bored out of my mind in this program and found much more comfort and stimuli in my minor in Biology and even greater joy in any Zoology course I could get my brain on.

Labs, dissections, proposals, research assignments, endless papers with formal citations and theoretical and scientific jargon got me through school.

Years of work in zoos, aquariums, animal rehabilitation centres and emergency veterinary clinics followed. I’ve bottle fed tigers, cleaned up after way too many species, led enrichment programs, rescued orphaned and injured wildlife and everything else linked directly to an animal related profession.

And now, I write. I write in the personal, in the abstract and with as few professional references as I can manage. From the blog posts I make, to the articles I submit to help finance this life of mine right now, and straight back to this book I’ve been working on, it’s all me playing by my own rules. I’m flying by the seam of my pants here. This is me taking a chance on something I’ve come to be passionate about. Sure, my confidence likes to waver, and yes, I read much better work on a regular basis from anyone but me, but this is where I’m going right now. I’d like to imagine that this writing commitment is similar to practicing an instrument. You play and play until you improve. The songs become more sure in themselves under your fingers and the masterpieces slide inch by inch closer into your reach. I’m hoping, by sitting here each day, and clicking away on this lap top, my words, sentences, thoughts and ideas are getting firmer. My personality starting to maybe slither between lines and my witticism not only audible in my own head all the time. I want my writing to just keep getting better. I want to grow and stretch in this new endeavour and find the footing I’ve been stumbling for. Maybe it’s coming. Maybe I’m onto something here. Maybe if I just keep writing…