Hello, sweet friends!
Just wanted to share my first official post from my new blog, All the Way Yoga. It’s an ode to niceness.
Hope you’re having a spectacular week.
With love, Britt.
Montreal suggestions, s’il vous plaît
So at the end of August, Mr. H and I are taking a road trip. Not just any road trip, because naturally…it’s going to be super awesome!
Milwaukee to Montreal.
Originally, we were looking at a European excursion, but let’s face it – plane ticket prices are a bit of a buzz kill. And while we’ve been to Europe before, we’ve never visited our upstairs neighbor…Canada.
The closest thing we have to Europe in North America is unarguably Montreal. The runner-up to Paris, it is the second largest French-speaking city in the world.
I imagine a land of crepes where the air is scented with savory and sweet tones. Mmm, crepes. Delicious crepes. Mouth-watering…I apologize. I keep falling into this crepe trance lately.
(Britt slaps her face twice and continues with her blog post.)
Instead of flying, we decided to enjoy the summer drive. All fifteen hours of it.
As cheesy as it is, we are definitely stopping at Niagara Falls on the way. Don’t judge me…I’m a big sap.
We rented a kick ass apartment for our five-night stay through Airbnb, complete with a ginormous terrace and fancy furniture. You can check out our digs right here.
Obviously with Montreal being one of the culinary capitals of the world, we plan to eat. And, we shall eat like there is no tomorrow.
One adventure on our radar is Piknic Electronik, which is one of those outdoorsy shindigs where we listen to rad tunes and get a little silly.
Other than that, we don’t have any plans. Here’s where you come in.
Calling all Montreal natives or previous visitors…what should we do? Any tips or recommendations for restaurants, sights, etc. would be splendid.
Also, give us the tough love. Are there any tourist traps we should avoid?
Leave a comment below. Merci!
All the Way Yoga – Blog Launch!
Well, lovelies. I got it in my crazy head that I would start another blog. It launches exactly one week from today on August 1st.
I blame it on the two month media hiatus when I found the focus I needed and basically rediscovered myself.
My passion for Yoga and wellness runs insanely deep. Though I’ve tinkered with posts from time to time on this blog, I feel that it is time to separate the two personas…Britt the writer and Britt the Yogi.
So, what the hell does that mean, Britt?
I’m SO glad you asked!
If you’re into my unladylike ramblings about life’s wonders, no bullshit travel advice, and off-kilter writing…you can stay right here with my firstborn, a physical perspective.
If you’re into wholesome grub, Yoga fun, and feel-good tips…you can check out my new baby All the Way Yoga. Recipes, how-to videos, and other awesomeness are all included.
If all of the above seems appealing to you, then be a rock star and follow both of my blogs. (There’s an epic cyber high-five in it for you.)
If you’re worried that All the Way Yoga is going to be some kind of flowery blog where I talk about snacking on dandelions all day, have no fear. This won’t be your average health nut blog.
Sure I’m a bit of a tree hugger, but I’m just an average gal keepin’ it real. I’m not perfect and I’ll never claim to be.
Hell, I’m a beer drinking Yogi!
I simply believe taking incredible care of yourself and indulging once in a while are how life should be lived.
It’s all about the balance, baby. That’s what we all strive for, right?
So, there’s my big ass announcement. I’m ridiculously excited about this adventure.
Who’s with me?
What’s wrong with having dreams, anyway?
When we’re babies, our parents have dreams of grandeur of what we will become. The doctor, the scientist, the celebrity.
When we’re kids, every adult we encounter asks us what we want to be when we grow up. And we answer them with conviction. A cowboy, a ballerina, an alien.
When we’re teens, our teachers prepare us for the future, to figure out which piece of expensive paper will pave the path to a fruitful career. Teach and be poor or business and be rich? Choose wisely.
When we’re adults – thrown into the world of bills, loans, and other hyped up seriousness – our dreams tend to fade. Usually, they disappear altogether.
Yet, sometimes they are revived. Quite suddenly you’re doing the things you loved most when you were a kid…coming full circle. You play music, you paint, you write.
You’re not the suit, you’re not the boss, you’re not the mom, you’re not the bachelor, you’re not the assistant, you’re not the alcoholic, you’re not the divorcee, you’re not the nobody.
You’re just you. And, you’re effing happy about it.
If you’re one of these dream-chasing adults, you’re often out of place. Everyone’s playing make-believe, the adults on one side and the children on the other.
Playing adult is allowed, respectable even.
Playing child isn’t. As a matter of fact, you’re the troublemaker.
I’ve done the day job thing most of my life. Hell, I’m doing it now…Monday-Friday, 9-5.
I play dress up every day just so I can play the board game. Buy, sell, trade. I was never any good at Monopoly. I liked ridiculously colorful games like Twister and Candyland.
For me, playing with the grown ups is just a game of pretend.
I will always be the rumpled employee who gets ready for work in five minutes flat, the grown ass woman sleeping with a stuffed animal, the hopeless case daring to dream because she can’t live any other way.
And, I don’t know why it’s so strange and unusual. I mean…what’s wrong with having dreams, anyway?
Challenge Accepted: Show us your shelves
“There is no friend as loyal as a book.” – Ernest Hemingway
Oh, Ernest. You were a feisty son of a gun, but you said some mighty things.
So, my rad blogger pal Letizia over at Reading Interrupted posted something super fun last week, a “Show us your shelves” challenge that’s been traipsing around the blogosphere.
I just couldn’t resist unveiling my dusty ass shelves.
Like many of you, most of my current reading is of the ebook variety. Obviously that would be the most anticlimactic picture ever.
Hey, look at my Kindle bookshelf screen, everyone! (And, cue crickets.)
Please excuse the insanely crooked pics. When you live in a shoebox apartment, you literally squeeze your belongings into every nook and cranny. Taking straight pictures when the corner of your desk is jamming you in the arse is impossible.
OK, Britt. Enough with the disclaimers already.
OK…
These classics are so cool, they always accessorize…
You might be wondering if that is a giraffe’s butt in front of the Hitler biography…
Indeed, it is a giraffe’s butt.
Meet Henri, our guardian of the ratty books and keeper of the giant headphones. Originally from France, Henri enjoys reading Ken Follett books, practicing Yoga, and listening to excellent tunes.
You didn’t think there would be a book shot without a cat around here, did you?
Aww…
Alrighty, folks. It’s your turn. Let’s see those dusty ass shelves!
Britt Skrabanek 