Stay Calm and Fart On

I know that you might not want to talk about this but the time has come in our relationship that we have to start to cover something important. The compelling, hard hitting issues need to be dealt with.

We have to talk about gas. Not Oil and Gas, not the Keystone Pipeline…nope farting.

Someone has to be the hero here. And that guy is gonna be me.

Why do we HAVE to talk about gas?

Why? Why? Because we all do it that’s why. Because it was one of the first things you ever did on this planet. You were caught by the doctor, took a deep breath, saw your Mom’s face and farted. And because when you where seven, you thought it was AWESOME. My philosophy is to regularly do things that you thought were awesome when you were seven.

Now, I don’t speak for all Celiacs but I have always been known as a Gassy Girl. If you know me for more than 37 seconds, I have most likely passed gas in front of you.  The Internet says that the average human farts about fourteen times a day. For me, you better double that. Whether I admit this or not has nothing to do with you. Most of the time, I don’t admit being the culprit of a stink bomb and neither do you so don’t get all righteous about it.

When I was a flight attendant, I called it “crop dusting”. I would walk from one end of the plane to the other, relieving my internal pressure the whole way, then, when I got the  front, I would turn around and watch every row look around in disgust at the poor saps behind them. It was like my own form of the wave… awesome.

I can only assume that my noisiness has to do with my Celiacs. That’s what I blame it on anyway. I used to blame it on my spawn but my husband decided to teach them to speak (which was a practice I thought was completely over rated) and now they don’t let me blame it on them. I have been standing in a store and Ethan has stopped, looked at me, taken a step away and said in a very loud voice, “don’t even THINK of blaming that  giant fart on me.” Then he starts to laugh, because farts are funny.

 

I can tell you that when I have been Glutened, the resulting flatulence is absolutely not fun at all. But for the rest of the time? I think it’s awesome. Seriously seriously fun times.

Case in point. We were camping with good friends of ours and I was cooking in our trailer. Our friend Scott came in to get something. He opens the fridge, stops and stares at me.

 

And while suppressing a gag he says,

            “You were just going to go ahead and pretend that never happened were you?” he says calmly. “No ‘excuse me’, no ‘ah gee Scott, don’t come into my trailer because it smells like shit’. Hey Laurie? That would be nice of you.”

 

            “I HAVE A DISEASE!” I screamed desperately, “I CAN’T HELP IT!”

 Scott began to laugh and went back out to give Trev massive amounts of pity. 

Recently, Trev and I have been doing a Cleanse. I used to think that Cleanses were for hippys and people who ate their own placenta but I have come to accept The Cleanse as a useful tool. After I get glutened, I tend to do a Cleanse, to clean the pipes so to speak. Now, I don’t do the Cleanses where you starve and drink only goat urine until you shit through the eye of a needle. Nope, not me. I do the ones that call for “cleaner eating” which is pretty much how I eat anyway so it’s just a couple more vitamins a day. No problem.

The problem is that somehow, Cleanses increase my gaseous nature and by “increase”, I mean, “I fart when I breathe”. Good fucking times. Have you seen those videos where those guys dress up like an old man and wander around Walmart with a fart machine grossing people out? Ya, that’s me, except I’m not dressed up.

The other day, Julia and I were in the toy section of Walmart when a Celiac poofty just snuck right out of my bum. It was loud. The lady beside me looked at me like I had just slaughtered a baby seal pup in her lap and stormed away shaking her head. Julia and I however, thought this was deeply entertaining and started laughing really hard, which made me fart more which made Julia laugh more and so on and so on until we just sat down in the middle of the aisle beside the Barbies until we could control ourselves and my sphincter. 

This is how I teach my daughter to act in public.

To her future husband, I say a hearty, ‘You are Welcome’.

 

There seems to be nothing that I can do about my Celiac gas. So I guess I am stuck with it. If you are a friend of mine, you are stuck with it too. Just try to stay up wind.

PS Gas-X is Gluten Free for those of you who don’t think this post was in any way enjoyable.

No Snobs Need Apply

I hate snobs. I genuinely do. And, looking back over my life, this has been a consistent theme throughout. I really never liked that Leanne girl in grade two who had her nails professionally done every week and got to keep them long. She would look at our overly trimmed fingers and roll her eyes and asked if we were poor. The other girls followed her around like a row of ducks - I instantly hated her guts. I never liked the guy at a party who sat and talked about how rich/important/well connected his father was. Other people would sit rapt with fascination, me? I go get me another drink because this guy is wearing on my patience. I equally cannot stand wine snobs. People who refuse to drink wine from a certain country or region or will refuse to drink anything that isn’t over a certain price point. Have you ever heard someone say something as asinine as ‘I don’t drink Australian wine.’ What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you know how big Australia is? Do you know how much wine it produces each year? Don’t leave your house if the world irritates your wine senses enough for you to be a douche to everyone you encounter.

I am sitting here and wondering what the difference is between a person who likes nice things and a snob. Because really, we all have indulgent things that we enjoy. Is everyone who owns an expensive handbag a snob? I don't think so. Is it the AMOUNT spent on a item or service that bumps it from a treat to a bragging right? I don’t think so.

I think that, like most things in life, snobs are created through INTENTION. We all have items or things that we splurge on, treat ourselves and our families. It’s about your intention behind it that determines if you are a snob or not. A snob goes places, buys things or attends events with the intention of impressing others. This is why snobs make a POINT to tell everyone they encounter about how exclusive their tastes are – because they are DESPERATE for people to pay attention to them.  You all know someone like this, don’t you? Maybe more than one person? You should probably limit your interaction with them because people like that can be bad for the soul. I feel bad for them...it must be exhausting to be that focused on how you are perceived.

And let’s not throw stones shall we? Have we not all been a snob about one thing or another? I certainly, have and it’s something I am trying to evolve about myself.  A lesson recently has been learnt. I USED to be a snob about Chili’s.

 

And don’t lie, you are too.

I can’t even remember the last time that I was at Chili’s. It appears as though neither of my children have ever been there so I am thinking it has been more than 8 years! I specifically remember people asking, ‘what about Chili’s?’ for dinner and I responded with, ‘I don’t eat there’ (please add in a shitty tone here too because that is how I said it). I admit it…go ahead and judge me….I deserve it. Since my Celiac diagnosis, Chili’s hasn’t even entered my mind. Where our family has been evolving into cleaner, organic and healthier gluten free foods,  I never even considered Chili’s as an option.

Last week, my friend Megan and I had to do some shopping and she suggested Chili’s for lunch. Instead of shooting it down, I called and talked to the manager who assured me that they had an extensive gluten free menu and were well trained in Gluten Free Awareness. So I dropped all my snobbishness and I can’t even tell you how happy I am that I did. We enjoyed lunch that day so much that I took the spawn there last night.

The servers were attentive and we had great service, both times. The moment I said I had Celiacs, there was the perfect reaction – a lean in, pen poised, head cocked and ready to listen. Last night, our server Alex even went back and talked to the chef to make sure all ingredients were Gluten Free. The corn tortillas are organic which I loved. Our food came out fast, fresh, and hot. The kids loved their meals and wolfed everything down. *as a side note I had not fed the kids in hours so they were super-duper hungry but they still would not have eaten it if it was gross. I like to starve the kids a bit, lets them know who’s boss. That was a joke…simmer down* They didn't charge me any extra for my GF food either. Which, if you read this blog, is a BIG deal for me. And if you don't read this blog religiously, you really should....it's marvellous.

I have to say that I was wrong about Chili’s. The GF menu is pretty great and the service is awesome and the food was wicked good. We will certainly be back and I recommend you drop some of your snobbish thoughts and go too.

Really, drop ALL snobbishness. Stop worrying about how you look. If you are particularly fond of a certain product or restaurant, wicked, enjoy it but don't be a snob about it. 

 

Stop caring what others think of you, trust me, you will be much happier for it.

 

 

STEP RIGHT UP AND GET YOUR TICKETS!!!

All right all you Calgary Celiac's listen up.

It is very rare that we get to feel all special and fancy and exclusive at a restaurant. In general, we tend to feel like a general pain in the ass and an annoyance to the public. This may have something to do with the fact that I AM a general pain in the ass all the time but lets not split hairs shall we?

There is a very exciting event coming up and you all have to go. The Ochre Grill has paired up with the Gluten Free Advisors and they are putting on a Gluten Free Dinner. It sounds totally wonderful and you all have to go...becuase I said so. You are not going to regret it. I LOVE the Ochre Grill and you are going to love it too.


To get tickets, contact Karen, the Gluten Free Advisor glutenfreeadvisor@shaw.ca   

DO IT....don't  wait....don't pass go.....don't collect two hundred dollars

GO

NOW

Turns out I'm a writer...huh

This post isn't about Celiacs per se...well, not really at all.

It's (shocker) about me.

Turns out I'm a writer, and not a shitty one. Yowza right? You would be amazed.

I wrote my first story at 8 years old. It was about a little boy who had an imaginary friend that took him swimming in a river of grape soda. It was stellar.But my teacher, Mrs. Tarseea didn't think it was that great. I think she said something like, "It doesn't make much sense, where would you find a river of grape soda." and I responded with "In my head." like duh. She was a crappy teacher and didn't like me very much.

Over time I kept writing because I would get these crazy ideas in my head. Basically, I came to the understanding that my brain doesn't really act the same way everyone elses does. My imagination is CONSTANTLY working, CONSTANTLY thinking CONSTANTLY coming up with stranger and stranger ideas. People always ask, "when do you find time to write" and I respond with, "I am always writing in my head". I am always thinking about different stories, ideas and characters.

I can be sitting on the bus and think, "what if, a cow got on this bus and decided to drive it? What would THAT guy do, the one in the suit? What about the lady in the flowered dress eating a bag of cheetos, what is SHE going to do about the cow driving the bus? Where would the cow take them? And why?"

This is LITERALLY a thought that I have physically had among hundreds of thousands of others.

 I remember one particular story that I wrote in high school - I don't remember what it was about but I recall that it was a good one. My English Teacher Mrs. Graham gave me an A on the story and made a point to pull me aside after class and made a point of saying, "Please know Laurie, that you are an excellent writer." I will never forget that. I don't even know if she remembers the exchange or if she remembers me even. It reminds me though, that a moment of kindness, and a compliment can stay with another human being forever. Alternatively, a cruel word has the same staying power, should you let it.

A while ago, I got a story stuck in my head that simply would not leave. I have always enjoyed writing. The time has always flown by when I was working. But when I started writing this novel, it became clear to me that this was more than just a hobby, this was more than just something a stay at home mom could do to pass nap time away. It was (is) obsessive. I would sit down to write after the kids went to bed and it felt like moments later when Trev would drag me to bed at 1 AM. Writing appears to be what my soul wanted to do.

Before I knew it, FEATHER was done and I started sending it off in the remote chance that someone would want to publish it. Lo and behold, along came Ring of Fire Publishing who seemed to think that FEATHER was as good as I thought it was. No one is more thrilled and surprised than I am. So on September 21 I will officially become a published author and the giddiness does not wish to go away.

In the middle of all this, I started this blog so I get to write my own voice as loony as that voice certainly is. I hope you enjoy the blog as much as I enjoy writing it. I will keep it up on the one condition that you buy my book. Not really, I'm going to keep posting here for as long as you want to read it. It would be great if you DID buy my book though. I would love you forever!

So remember SEPTEMBER 21 on Amazon. FEATHER by LAURIE LYONS. If you want to hear more about FEATHER, check out the webpage.


 PS No one in the book has Celiacs but you can pretend if you want to.

Leave your Lederhosen at home

I heard about 1600 World Bier Haus from some friends of mine that work there and it was 7pm on Wednesday when Shelby and I sauntered our butts through the door. I don't know what I was expecting, well, ya I did. I expected a great deal of dark wood, I expected lots of those strange yellow molted windows that look like my grandmothers juice glasses in 1982. I expected lederhosen - a lot of it. Little green outfits with flowered appliques, tall socks and little black shoes. I expected deep solid wood carvings, spun in ornate patterns that look like a bird from the right and a vagina from the left. You know the ones I mean...don't even PRETEND that you don't know what I am talking about.

 Frankly, I expected 1600 World Bier Haus to look like the inside of a cuckoo clock.

How WRONG I was. Which doesn't happen often...really.

1600 World Bier Haus is bright and clean and shiny without being pretentious. It manages to feel like your neighbourhood pub and a high end cocktail lounge at the same time. Which is tricky, so they did well. We were greeted by a lovely hostess who had a booth ready for us. We had two servers welcome us within a few moments. They seemed to be completely on the ball as far as Celiac's go. I did quiz them a little bit on the preparation of the GF food. They were unsure about a few details but rapidly offered to check with the kitchen. I like that. I can smell a bullshitter a mile away, being an excellent bullshitter myself. It is always best to tell the truth, even if the truth doesn't sound fancy. Having a server say, "I'm not 100% sure but I know someone who is..." is a welcome thing to hear.

I ordered two things, because , that's the way I roll. I got the mussels and the three cheese flat bread. Both were AWESOME! Like, really really good. Fresh and hot and tasty. The ONLY problem with the food is that my gluten free meal was run by a server, and not MY server. It is ALWAYS good policy to have a manager or the server who took the order run the Celiac food themselves. The girl who dropped off my flat bread smiled and placed it in front of me. Only by me prompting, did she assure me that it was Gluten Free... NOT the warm comfy feeling that I was hoping for. A different server ran my mussels and didn't mention that they were gluten free. Now, granted, the mussels are NATURALLY gluten free but that extra bump of assurance of having a manager run both my plates with confidence makes a big difference. Peace of mind is priceless.

We had a great time. Part of it was the company. Shelby and I aren't the most,
... shall we say focused?.... individuals on the face of the planet. We were deep in conversation, something about....ah shit... I don't even know when this lady walks in with a hair-do that can not be beat. We then got into a deep, long, painful conversation about HOW this lady gets her hair that big. It was in a pony tail but the puffiness around the ponytail was such that implied other forces were at work. Shelby insisted that it was a "bump it" - one of those on-line do-hickeys that poof up your hair. I think it was just masterful teasing. We then get to talking about physics and hair and then conditioners and then something about Paris maybe? This topic then consumed us until something shiny went past.

Anyway...back to the blog...see what just happened there? Under "CHAOS" in the dictionary, is a picture Shelby and I... shopping for shoes....or flying on an airplane...it's really all the same to us.

The food was delicious. Shelby had a burger and loved it. Two managers and our server checked on us throughout the meal. I was sad to not see a GF dessert but the bill came promptly and with a smile.
1600 World Bier Haus was a great breath of fresh air. Usually in suburbia, our pubs are dark and a little creepy with pictures of Don Cherry plastering the walls. 1600 World Bier Haus is bright and fresh with a modern interior and a menu with lots of GF options.

Go to 1600 World Bier Haus, leave your lederhosen at home because you would look super stupid, just like wearing a bump-it would. I would suggest making a reservation. The place was lined up while we were there.

We are going to check out 1410 Bier Haus on 17th Avenue next...that is, if we don't see a squirrel first and get distracted.

Is That A Goat in A Bathing Suit?

I could have died today. It totally could have happened, could have DIED. I know I tend to lean on the side of the dramatic but I need to be clear, I totally could have died.

I got stung by a wasp.

I don’t think it was a regular wasp, I think it was some kind of mutant science experiment gone wild.

Trevor says I am being ridiculous, I say he is grossly underestimating how much this hurts. I think that stinger thing is still in there or whatever because it is like 6 hours after “the death incident” as it shall be known and it STILL FUCKING HURTS – A LOT!

Let me tell you the tale of when I almost died today.

We went to the Millarville Fair. It’s a small town southwest of Calgary and each year they put on hands down the BEST fair I have ever seen. First off, it is creepy good organised (did you see my English Degree leaking into that previous sentence?) – from paying from your car to the tonnes and tonnes of parking attendants to the cute farm kids walking around carrying “ASK ME” signs. Of course, I have to wonder, can I ask ANYTHING? Like “what is the meaning of life?” “have your parents ever traumatised you by making you kill a chicken by whipping it around like in that fucked up you tube video” OR  “how do you kill a chicken?” But I didn’t – because I’m not an asshole yo.

They have vendor after vendor from the hudderite colonies and the honey farms to the organic meats and flowers. You also have rows and rows of entries from kids and adults alike. There are Lego creations, cakes, paintings and home made dolls and stunning quilts. It’s really pretty cool. I can’t even make fun of it because my kids are totally going to do it next year.

The fair also has the end all be all in fair entertainment, there is a Rooster Crowing Contest. That’s right. They have about eight roosters in cages and the roosters get a coin every time they crow.  It’s totally awesome and my kids cheer and laugh and love every second of it. I think they might be amazed that for once I didn’t lie to them and a rooster actually crows. They haven't quite let go of the “cows can’t actually fly over moons” debacle of 2009.

The Rooster Crowing Contest

Don’t worry – I am getting to the part where I almost died. AND about the Celiac thing too…

Wait, the rooster crowing isn't the best – the competition where kids and their animals dress up is the best. I'm again, not mocking this at all because if I wasn’t allergic to everything on the face of the planet, I would totally DO this. Kids pick a theme and then they and their animal put on costumes and compete for prizes. There are princesses on horses with unicorn horns, Cleopatra on donkeys dressed as camels and my personal favourite. A kid in a life jacket with a GOAT IN A BATHING SUIT!!! It was a FULL bathing suit and little goggles on the goats head. Beyond fantastically awesome. I might just go out and buy a goat to make it a bathing suit. I am trying to convince Trev to buy me a pot bellied pig because I really don’t think I would be allergic to Petunia (I have named my fictitious pig) but he refuses. I could dress up Petunia to look like an ACTUAL flower and then all I have to do is put gardening gloves and a hat on one of the spawn and I AM A SHOE IN TO WIN. But Trev says no…..

You know what else the Millarville fair has? GLUTEN FREE FOOD ! A LOT of it. I love it so much. Where the stampede has thousands of vendors selling garbage by the foot, this small town “gets it”. Each vendor promises organic, locally grown and gluten free options. It is so great to go to a fair and not fill my spawn with crap.

I choose the Primal Grounds Tent and man, did I ever pick well.

This all happened before I almost died by the way.

So I show up there and meet Margaret. She is the most gorgeous, delightful, wonderful human being I have ever met (she told me to write that but it’s kind of true so it gets to stay). Primal grounds has ALWAYS been gluten free and now has branched in to the primal soup company. She made me this turkey, herb smokie on a herbed gluten free bun with maple syrup, cheese and BRACE YOURSELF hickory sticks. I didn’t know we could HAVE hickory sticks but Margaret says we can and that makes it FACT bitches.

That is Margaret making my lunch with gluten free love.

It was one of the best meals I have ever eaten standing up looking at a goat in a bathing suit. It tasted fresh and juicy and full of wonderful things and it was made with a lot of love.  The kids had the chicken smokies and they were awesome too. You can visit the wonderful Margaret at The Kingsland Farmers Market. I know I will.

So I am just finishing up my delicious smokie and watching the spawn jump in some sort of inflatable box that always resembles a giant womb to me (once they get all the kids in there, I always get a flash image of octomom in my head) and I felt something on my neck. So I innocently, gracefully (because I am above all things a graceful woman) brush this creature of God away.

AND I GET BIT!

HARD!

AND IT HURT LIKE A MOTHER FUCKER

So I of course start screaming that there is CLEARLY a cougar on the loose so hide the goat in the bathing suit and the babies but I was quickly informed by a moderately snarky hudderite that I have been stung by a wasp. Now, I have no idea if I am allergic to wasps and because I am allergic to horses, I can only assume that they are of the same genus or family or order or something because zebras have stripes. (See how my brain works? It’s no picnic in here people)

I come to the ultimate conclusion that  am going to die….right now. I could almost FEEL my throat closing up and the venom coursing through my system.

 But my friend Letishia looked at my neck and informed me that I was indeed not going to die and I would be fine. I don’t think she took it as seriously as she should have because no one was making a move to call 911 to get me airlifted out of there. She just looked at me like I was fine. She added that I wasn't bleeding becuase this is how well she knows me, she KNEW my next question was if I was bleeding or not.

Later, I was speaking to a friend of mine who is a nurse, I tried to inform her of my near death experience and she simply glanced at my neck and shrugged and said that it might hurt but I should be fine. She didn't pull out a medical kit or a microscope or ANYTHING. I told her I will be writing a letter to the Alberta Health Services in complaint at her bedside manner BECAUSE I COULD HAVE DIED. She laughed in my face. Literally. Nurse Rachett.

So the MORAL of the story is….go to Primal Grounds and the Primal Soup Company and get your Gluten Free Goodness on. You will not regret it. Next year, go to the The Millarville Fair and love every minute of this fantastic event.

I hopefully will be fully recovered by then, I might still be in therapy. I can feel my neck swelling again so I am going to go lie down and drink a bottle of wine.

Dammit....We Should Have Gone East

Last night was another meeting of my delightful book club Libations and Literature. We usually meet at someones house but decided this time to meet at WEST, a restaurant in downtown Calgary.  I have heard good things about WEST – I am starting to assume that those people have the standards of blind, deaf, circus folk.

We made a reservation for 7pm and at 7 we stood at the door. Now, there was some crazy weather going on in Calgary last night - some rain and hail etc. We were clearly not going to sit on the patio. The hostess acknowledged our presence and said a table would be “put together for us”. We then stood for 25 minutes staring at an EMPTY restaurant while said hostess wandered aimlessly from the back to the front over and over again. I am sure this girl is good at many things, like water polo or knitting, I don’t know but ‘looking busy’ or "looking happy to help" are not her talents.

There was some sort of problem with the rain and moving things or people or furniture or sections or something that she kept mumbling about every time we asked her. It was terribly odd. When a different hostess arrived, she amazingly, by some feat of sheer genius, found us a table in the empty restaurant. Brilliance….it happens when you least expect it.

The service was slow and expensive. The server training must make it clear that pants are always optional. At McDonalds, smiles are free, at WEST, a different kind of cheek is handed out willingly. Who doesn’t want a side of ass cheek for dinner?  If she was fun and bubbly and showed me her ass, that would be fine but she was slow and bored so the ass really wasn’t worth its weight in smiles.

 Slow means that she took our dinner orders before our drinks arrived. Slow means that our reservation was for seven and it was eight when we first clinked our glasses together. Slow also means that she wasn’t very smart.  Her attitude was as lackluster as the transparency of her “dress”. We got the distinct feeling that she didn’t want to be there and therefore we didn’t want her there either.

As far as the Gluten aspect goes, they charge extra for everything Gluten Free which irritates me. *Please see previous post. I feel this is the same as putting a toll booth on a wheel chair ramp.* At the end of the day, I believe I paid twelve extra dollars in upcharges. It makes my skin crawl. I would know the exact amount but despite requesting a copy of the bill three times. I never did get it.

The corn pasta was ok, a little over cooked but that can happen with corn pasta if you aren’t used to cooking it - which the chefs should be. The chocolate fondue was ok too but we were charged the GF upcharge because I couldn’t have the pound cake and I asked for more berries to be added but they just added more grapes – I guess those are expensive somewhere right now. Of course, I tip extra for the fact that no one poisoned me so it was a costly meal for me. I am of course hoping that the server takes the tip to purchase herself a bra. Wishful thinking.

The only bright side of the night was that I got to spend it with my dear friends. Books are vaguely discussed with a good dose of laughter and problem solving as it is with good friends. I just wish I could add a wonderful restaurant experience on top of it all. It was really one of the blandest meals out that I have had in recent memory, served by bland people and charged extra for it all.

I wouldn’t recommend WEST for Celiacs or circus folk or even people not wearing pants.