Love’s taken me across the map
All the way to hell and back
Gave everything I have and
Lost my mind a couple of times
This week’s song shuffle is a country song that I heard in an episode of The Bachelor (don’t judge me). I thought it was really sweet and tells a great love story. It’s really creative how Sarah Darling(what a cute last name) can express how she feels through a neat analogy that features different states.
Explain why you chose your blog’s title and what it means to you.
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I’m going to begin by saying that I wish I had come up with some clever blog title after thinking long and hard but I merely stumbled upon mine in the most random way.
Oh my gosh, I’m freakin’ Bri ish!
I was doing what any other normal person would do on a Sunday afternoon — call my cousin and pretend I had an accent(duh!). Growing up, I had this obsession with my British family members and I would beg them to teach me how they did that thing with their mouth. You know — the thing where they sound incredibly cool and different. Of course, they would always reply with a simple ” but American sounds so much better”. Those silly Brits had no idea that being Canadian meant I didn’t speak American!
Fast forward to later that evening and there I was; staring at my Macbook with a blank title as I struggled to create my first WordPress blog. I knew that I wanted to write about what I would find interesting and what I relate to the most. I was a 20something looking to give people the honest insight on people my age and what they’re up to (because no where else on the web is there such a thing).
After many failed attempts at a unique blog title (surprise, surprise), I decided to write down some questions. Like what made me an expert on 20somethings anyway? I mean I could barely cook pasta without screwing up. I never know if I’m doing anything right and I still call my mom when my tummy hurts!
THAT’s why he didn’t go to prom with you.
Then, like a lightning bolt (shut up, it’s how I picture it in my mind as I write this) it came to me. I knew that I could offer something to the poor chap who would be reading my mostly useless posts because I was the person all of my friends would go to when they wanted the “411”. I am the girl who people come to when they want to find out how everyone else feels. I was the person that offered the no bullshit straight up advice to your problems when everyone else was afraid to say, “You’re an idiot”. If we went to a party and you wanted to know the skinny on what really happened between that douche bag Blake and annoying Ashley, I’d be your girl. I’ve always been that girl. For as long as I can remember, I have been giving everyone in my life “the low down” on life, boys, sex, family and everything in between.
There was only one problem — the low down, lowdown, low down, lodown, lo-down, a low down were all taken. Ugh, but how can that be? It’s my blog name and it fits my writing profile. Can I request to take the blog name from someone? Fine — I guess I’ll have to improvise.
Bingo!
That’s when I thought, what if I add z (the first letter of my name) to lowdown because it would be me giving you the lowdown? I’ll admit, it sounded really really dumb at first. I paced my apartment saying it over and over and over again to make sure that I didn’t absolutely hate it. Naturally, after saying it so many times I started to do with an accent. A British accent, a Chinese accent and a French accent.
The French accent was perfect. It sounded so eloquent and hilarious at the same time, I couldn’t help myself. I said it over 30 more times with the accent and laughed every time. Well, I do want people to laugh when they read my blog right?
“qui qui”
That’s when I wrote my first blog post and told all of my new friends that when they read my blog title, they should try saying it with a French accent!
Voilà — and there you have it folks.
Valentine’s day is a holiday that everyone and their mother has a strong opinion on. Some people absolutely love the flowers, chocolate and romance. While others despise the commercial rip off and the unrealistic expectations of partners. I’ve always thought the sweet gestures and romantic stories were really great reminders for lovebirds. I think everyone could lighten up a bit and enjoy the day for what it is — a showcase of love.
In the spirit of the great St. Valentine’s Day, I have found some good ‘Valentine’s Day gone wrong’ stories on the web to share with you all. I hope you get a chuckle out of these like I did!
This can’t be happening.
Ex Hits the Spot — After secretly dating two guys (Dan and Joe) for a few months, I told Joe I didn’t want a relationship, so that I could get serious with Dan. On Valentine’s Day, Dan took me out to dinner, and I almost choked on my drink when our waiter arrived. It was Joe! To make matters worse, Dan ordered a dish with béchamel sauce, which he loved. He gushed to the waiter, a.k.a. my ex, “If she could cook like this I’d marry her.” I wanted to die.
Oh no he di’int.
Good Morning —Valentine’s Day, I called my boyfriend at college to see if he got my flowers and another woman answered the phone — at 8 am.
Awkward…
It’s not in the cards — In my group of friends, there was a guy I really liked, and we’d become pretty good buddies. Valentine’s Day was coming up, and neither of us was dating anyone. I was so excited when he knocked on my door holding an adorable, homemade Valentine card. He even glued macaroni noodles onto it, like kids do in grade school. He showed it to me, and I was about to say thank you and give him a hug when he said, ‘Do you think Kate will like it?’ Kate was a mutual friend of ours whom he had a crush on. I somehow kept my composure until he left, at which point I wallowed in my worst Valentine’s Day ever.
Well this is mortifying.
My bloody Valentine — I took a girl out on Valentine’s Day after we’d been dating for a few weeks. The date went really well and, when we came home, we started kissing on her porch. She pulled away because she said she felt something on her face. When I opened my eyes, I saw that she had blood running down her cheeks. I’ve always had a problem with bloody noses, and I’d gotten one when we were kissing! She acted like it was no big deal, but I never heard from her again, and I guess I don’t entirely blame her.
And I know I’ll end up right
While you end up in a mid life crisis
Karma’s gonna get you now baby
This week’s song shuffle comes from a fellow Canadian cutie by the name of Kristina Maria. Reigning from Ottawa (woot woot), Kristina has been working with some big names in Hollywood. I really hope this girl blows up; She deserves it!
I love the twitterverse as much as the next person but I sort of hit a wall a few months ago. I suppose I just got tired of the ‘fandoms’ of young teen celebrities taking over trending topics with desperate pleas to Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus. Then one day, along came a re-tweet of one of Kelly Oxford‘s hilarious tweets. Kelly, a witty young mother and fellow Canadian is known for her comical analysis of pop culture and very blunt humor about her family. That’s when I discovered an entire community of twitter-made comedians — each funnier than the next.
So I’ve decided that every week I will share 5 of my favourite tweets with you all.
Enjoy!
This story is one of those don’t-ever-mention-it-to-your-parents kind of story and I’ll probably keep it that way until at least 20 years have passed. Consider the details of this event to be every parent’s worst nightmare and every stupid young adult’s average mistake.
We can do this right?
In February of 2010, during an unforgettable grad trip with about 15 of our friends to the beautiful Dominican Republic — one mistake almost cost us our lives. My 3 girlfriends and I decided that it would be the smartest of choices to purchase an “off the records” horseback riding excursion through a sweet old man from one of the beautiful beaches of Puerto Plata. Some of our friends on the trip had already booked fun adventures like a catamaran and a cool dune buggy experience (which also turned out to be a close call), so we decided to do something a little more “low-key”. Our idea of low-key of course turned out to be one of the most intense expeditions of our lives. The old man who showered us with compliments PROMISED there would be other tourists, a full refund if we were dissatisfied and a good bang for our buck. I remember the four of us sitting around the resort pool that day; piña colada in one hand and feet in the cool water. We were ecstatic and could not wait to see the breathtaking views of the exotic Dominican mountains while riding a horse (I mean, how COOL is THAT?). One of our male friends had actually offered to join in on the fun and we quickly shot down the idea because we wanted it to remain a ‘girls thing’. Among us, there was only one girl who previously rode horses as a hobby and the rest of us figured we would be escorted by individual equestrians (Duh).
Horseback riding in the mountains? COOL!
The next morning, we were to meet at 8 am in front of our resort and wait for a tour bus to gather us for a fun-filled day. We had all even dressed in silly equestrian attire in the smoldering heat to really get in the spirit! The excursion “tour bus” drove up to where we were standing and to our surprise, not a single tourist inside the little run-down vehicle. Two teenage boys (who weighed half my size) leaped from behind the van and ushered us onto the very unsafe means of transportation. Although we were all a little uneasy, I was given the chill out look from the other girls and decided to set aside my fear of being taken. We were soon going to find out that the old saying “trust your gut” is one that should be taken very seriously– especially by a bunch of boozing 20something girls on a tropical vacation in a third world country.
We called him “Albino”
I remember feeling really tense as our guide drove(recklessly might I add) through the slums of Puerto Plata and we began to witness extreme poverty, street kids and stray animals. Those aren’t the sort of images you think you’ll take home with you from what you believe to be paradise. I felt a bit sad, a little overwhelmed and somewhat anxious because I wasn’t quite sure what to expect in the hours ahead. We questioned the driver(a calm, cool and collected local) about the other tourists and when we would join them like the sweet old man assured us. He would mutter some words in Spanish and every so often reply with a “yes, yes”. Our apprehension only grew once we arrived at the stable and it looked like it had been an abandoned ranch from one of those sketchy western horror movies. After putting on our filthy ponchos and mud-covered helmets, we hopped on our individual horses(with the help of the two boys who could barely lift us). I should also mention that at this point we realized that these horses were malnourished and looked burdened with the thought of galloping up steep hills. Nonetheless, after a group huddle about overreacting and potentially missing out on the best experience of our lives, we decided to just go with it. The driver of our tour…let’s call it van, reassured us that we would meet the rest of the tourists once we started our route up to the mountain and that this excursion would be well worth it. So we embarked on our journey and just hoped for the best!
Where the creepy construction guys worked.
We began to feel better once the photo-ops surfaced and we could see the breathtaking views of the mountains. Our tour guide even gave us a few laughs and the nerves started to fade. Then — the first sign of danger. We come to a full stop and our guide turns around and says to us, “girls, whatever you do, do not look these men in the eyes as we pass them OK?”. Quickly adding, “especially you, who has colored eyes and blonde hair” while pointing to my friend Erin. Out of mere confusion, we agreed and rode past the six construction men working outside of the million dollar home that we had taken been taking photographs of. As I looked back at the men, the feeling of angst was starting to re-emerge. After the girls and I gave each other a few concerned looks, I said to the man, “can we go back to our resort please?”. He quickly responded that I was being silly and that I shouldn’t let a group of creepy construction men ruin my mood. I protested but after a few minutes I shrugged and figured we had already come this far.
We feel on top of the world!
After a long hour of struggling with whether to lean forward or backward on my horse up the very steep hills and our emaciated horses abruptly reaching for grass at the edge of every cliff — we made it to the top of the mountain. The way I felt in that moment was a true testament to the famous climb in the movie Rocky and the metaphor for rising to challenge. I mean I had just rode a freakin’ horse for the first time in my life all the way up this mountain and nearly kissed death at least five times because my horse was hungry. So it was safe to say that we had all felt somewhat proud of ourselves for not giving up and calling it quits when we were scared because now we had this view, and this memory that would stay with us forever. We took some great photos, took long hard looks at the beautiful scenery we had in front of us and vowed to never forget this moment.
Robin’s horse — always craving that piece of grass at the edge of a cliff!
What happened next is anxiety-attack worthy and I can only do it so much justice on this post because it’s one of those you had to be there moments. Out of nowhere, we went from taking in the crisp fresh air at the top of a mountain to being surrounded by approximately 6 shirtless teenage boys and their machetes. My heart was racing and all of our minds filled with horrific thoughts of what could happen next. Our tour guide maneuvered his way to the front hoping to protect us from what he would later explain as “an attempt to kidnap foreign girls and sell to the drug lords who live in the mountains of the Dominican”. I always thought if I were to ever be in a position like this, that I would definitely keep calm and think quick. The reality was neither of those on this given day because I immediately panicked and began to cry. We couldn’t really understand anything the surprisingly vulgar and aggressive teenagers were saying but we did pick up on one recurring phrase. “Cuánto para las chicas guapas?” they kept shouting in what honestly made me feel like we were a drop of blood in shark infested water. We only knew what this phrase meant because Robin had dated a Colombian guy and said she could piece the words together. The girls and I tried to speak through our tears to one another in order to try and come up with a game plan. Then came the most disturbing thing I have ever seen in my life as one of the youngest of the teenage boys rushed towards us with his horse in attempt to frighten us — and rode the horse as fast as he could towards the edge of the cliff. We watched in horror as the horse tumbled down the mountain, hitting large rocks as it squealed. Fortunately for the boy, he had jumped off just in time and landed safely. I was at a loss for words. I could not believe what I had just seen before my eyes and like a frozen old VHS tape, the scene played over and over and over in my mind. At this point, we were all so shaken, we could barely look at each other. Luckily for us, the one girl who actually spent most of her life riding horses stepped up to the plate and decided to take charge. In the softest voice, Krystal said “I think I remember our path back to the stable, I’m going to just go and your horses will follow suit, alright?”. The tour guide yelled a bunch of things in Spanish at the boys, which he later explained was an attempt at scaring them about “all the other tourist who were just behind us”. As subtle as she could, Krystal sent an aggressive kick to her horse who responded quickly and sure enough — our horses moved just as fast. I promise you the feeling I had as I rode that horse was equivalent to what any Olympic equestrian feels as they try to channel every part of them into the race of their life. This was the race of our lives. We made it as far as the ranch without looking back and I still have no idea how we pulled that off.
Needless to say, that was the closest any of us have ever come to death. We expressed our deepest satisfaction with the excursion and vowed to warn as many tourists as we could about the experience. I am sure I have left out details of this story as it all seems somewhat of a blurry nightmare now but I can promise you that it was every bit of what you can imagine about being in a horror movie. So 20somethings, do your parents a favor and trust them when they say — STAY ON YOUR RESORT!
A shot for survival!
For many years now, I’ve wanted to quit being lazy to start a blog so I could share all my crazy stories, ideas and experiences with the world but Queen P(procrastination) got in the way of that. I would be lying if I told you that I wasn’t scared of failing miserably, being boring and losing interest. I guess my appetite for the world-wide-web and getting hooked on so many other blogs really helped me find my own inspiration. Although I can’t promise that this blog will be the best thing since slice bread, I can tell you that I will try my best to invite you into my world with full disclosure or as I like to call it — Z low down (try saying it with a French accent).
Thank you for joining me on this journey!
xo Z
All you need is 20 seconds of insane courage.
zlowdown 