Category Archives: Random Happy

Pug life

Vern, the man of the hour. Photo by Terri Flinn.

Vern, the man of the hour. Photo by Terri Flinn.

Tonight I’m doggie-sitting one of my favourite beings, Vern the Pug. He’s sweet and cuddly and I always love my adventures with him.

People usually point and smile, or stop to give a little pat-pat (to him – I don’t respond as well as he does). Babies squeal “puppy!” and girlfriends say “oooh let’s get one of those!” But every once in a while, something strange happens.

On my walk tonight, we passed through the puppy park (a guy shows up there a few times a week with a gaggle of tiny puppies – it’s pretty fantastic) and made our way through the neighbourhood. While standing on a quiet, tree-lined street, I stood patiently, waiting for Vern to do his business. Next thing you know, I hear the thunder of skateboards rolling past us and two twenty-something men came into view. “PUG TAKING A SHIT!!!” one hollered out, as if to announce it to the neighbourhood. And just like that, they were gone.

Guys, this is a big deal. I think I just met Captain Obvious.

We move along, making our way down Bloor Street. We pass the shops and various types of pedestrians, and get the usual nods and smiles. A minute later, as we pass a bar patio, I hear a whistle. “Hey there, cutie!” a voice rings out. I look to my right and see a toothless old sot winking in my direction. The gall! What am I, a piece of meat? Oh wait. He’s pointing at the dog.

Moving right along.

We hit the Wine Rack (Vern is familiar with this place and knows just where to sit in order to get a treat – I don’t take him there that often, I swear) and wander back home. As we stand outside the doors of our building while I search for my keys, I notice a man inside the building holding the elevator for me. How kind! I finally locate the keys and let myself in, rushing toward the kind gentleman.

“Thanks so much!” I smiled at him.

“Anything for a cute dog,” he replied.

And that’s how it is.

Love From Sarah


Polkaroo is dead

Ok, well technically Polkaroo has simply ceased to exist. My Polkaroo, that is.

For those of you who aren’t in the know, Polkaroo was a character from Polka Dot Door, a Canadian TV show that ran from 1971-1993. As you can clearly see from the picture above, he was a cross between a kangaroo and a polka dot… wearing… thing.

Polka Dot Door also featured memorable characters such as Marigold, Bear, Humpty and Dumpty, but it really was Polkaroo who stole the show. Polkaroo was an elusive character. He only ever showed up when the male host had left the room – prompting him to cry “Polkaroo was here? I missed him again?” without fail upon his return. Children across Ontario would scream “You fool! Why did you leave to run that errand? Didn’t you know Polkaroo was on his way?”

The male host was played by a variety of different actors over the years and while the cast often changed, one thing remained the same: Polkaroo’s schedule. He’d show up all late, using only charades and the one word he knew to communicate to the female host.

“What’s that Polkaroo? You want to go fishing?”

“PolkarOO!” *waves hands in flapping motion

“Oh, not fishing then? Swimming?”

“Polkaroo? Polkaroo!”

You get the idea.

Over the years, my friends and I have often used the word Polkaroo to describe a mysterious person – someone others assure you does actually exist, but that you’ve never seen with your own two eyes. In university, it was Lisa’s class crush. She swore he was there. They shared notes, walked home from class together and had a blossoming love connection that only poli-sci 101 could nurture. She wanted so badly for me to meet him – to casually run into him on campus or “accidentally” bump into him  at the pub, but it never happened. We even went as far as having me drive her to class and pick her up in the hopes of catching a glimpse of this mystery man, but it just wasn’t meant to be.

As time went on, I forgot about my Polkaroo. Then I got a new one.

Kate and I became friends in college – we had both graduated university and were adding to our degrees with post-graduate studies in communications and public relations at Centennial College. We became fast friends and had a great time making each other laugh throughout the school day. Occasionally she’d mention her friend Ashlee – a friend from her university days – who she swore was just like me.

“You’d get along so well,” Kate would say. “You really have to meet.”

So after months of Kate comparing me to her friend, we decided to take the plunge and become friends – Facebook friends, that is. We had grand plans for fun nights out on the town with the three of us, but they just fell through time and time again.

Fast forward four years. Kate and I are still in touch and Ashlee and I are still Facebook friends. As it turns out, Ashlee also knows quite a few people in my life – including (but not limited to) my high school friends, university friends and my brother. Small world, right? But here’s the thing – we  had still never met. She was my new Polkaroo – showing up to weddings and parties I wasn’t at, front and centre in pictures with my besties and everything.

Last week though, that all changed. I was about to come face to face with my Polkaroo.

It all started on Facebook. I saw that my bestie’s status mentioned that she was going to a wedding on the weekend. I was also going to a wedding on the weekend. WE WERE GOING TO THE SAME WEDDING! The messages that followed the initial revelation were just as hilarious as you’d expect from two peas in a pod:

“I seriously can’t stop laughing right now… people are probably like WTF? How come you’re fb friends and you’ve never met? LOL”

“I know!!! And that we’re so excited to meet….like we’ve been long lost sisters or something! Oh my God, this is going to be hilarious. you are getting the hug of a lifetime! And I’ve creeped you enough times to recognize you in real life!”

We could barely contain our excitement. Finally, no more Polkaroo! And the meeting was just as magical as we had imagined. Although we didn’t exactly slo-mo run into each other’s open arms to the tune from Chariots of Fire, I did block her path as she dashed to the ladies’ room and lunged at her. Like I said: magical.

And it turns out we really do get along. It would have been a pretty epic disaster to find out, after all this time, I didn’t like my Polkaroo and she didn’t like me. As far as I can tell though, my friend and I are still besties 🙂

PS Congrats to Amy and Brett! It was a lovely wedding.

Love From Sarah

Tuesday night laughs

Hey there!

So I’ve been away on holidays lately, which means funny posts haven’t been coming your way (from me, at least) for a while. I will be updating the blog soon, but here’s a little something hilarious to keep you busy in the meantime.

Thanks to the wonderful Alison Brownlee for sharing this!

Love From Sarah

Sunday laughs

Here are some things to make you laugh today.

These ones are from the Berry.



Here are some from around the web. For a hilarious site, click here!


Love From Sarah

You’re super. Way to go.

I’m super. My friends say so. They also say I’m very Victorian in an Austen-esque kinda way, which I love, and is probably what makes me so super in the first place.

I don’t know whether it’s my fainting spells, corsets, ringlet side burn-thing hairstyle (do those things have a name?), or my penchant for  long walks over the moor just as a storm is approaching that gives them that impression, but I love Austen and I’m quite happy they’ve linked me to her in any way.

This is a pretty accurate depiction of me at the office. Obviously.

I'm so embarrassed. How could I have not noticed that artist sketching me at my desk last week?

Anyway, I’m really only telling you this so that I can post a picture of the lovely card I received from my co-workers yesterday.

It might be the sweetest card ever, and that’s a fact. I really do work with some amazing people! Thanks everyone 🙂

Love From Sarah

Happiness is: being totally justified in buying a new outfit

So I was all prepared to write a different post under the category of Happiness is: when something happened. Something dire. I was exposed at work.

Ok, so I wasn’t totally exposed, but close to it.

This morning I had some pep in my step because it was a sunny day and I was looking forward to the afternoon. After work today, some colleagues and I will be hitting up a local patio for some drinks and laughs to celebrate the fact that two of us just passed the one-year mark with the company. It might not sound like much, but it’s fun – and as you should all know by now, fun is my favourite.

So I chose a cute little dress to wear and made my way to work. I was feeling good, enjoying the sunshine, even chatting to the local coffee shop owner as I walked through the parking lot into the office. Life was good.

It wasn’t until I went into a colleague’s office that things started to become, well, clearer.

It turns out my cute little button-up dress is not only totally see-through, but now that I’ve had the opportunity to sit down a few times, the spaces between the buttons have stretched out and you can peek right in. Riiight.

I didn't look like this, but I was afraid of the results I'd get if I Googled "see-through dresses".

The ladies weren’t too concerned – one of them even suggested that I just roll with it, making all the men in the office crazy with my “peek-a-boo outfit”. That might have been an option if A) I looked like Gisele Bundchen, or B) I worked with a bunch of male models or David Beckham lookalikes.  As (unfortunately… so unfortunately) neither seems to be the case, I decided to just bite the bullet and buy a new outfit.

Only one problem: to get to my favourite store, I have to walk down the street. The sunny, sunny street. The street with all the summer tourists on it. The street where I’ll have to wait at the stoplights and pretend everyone can’t see my undies.

But I’m brave. I step out into the sunlight – sunglasses on, head down, concentrating on BBM conversation with cousin who is helping me on my emotional journey toward a new outfit and a better day. I try to stick to the shady patches, but they’re few and far between on this glorious day. Silently, I reminisce about the joy I felt at wearing my new shoes this morning. Why did I wear these shoes? The make like, the loudest clicking sound EVER. I’m pretty sure everyone is hearing the click and looking at me. Pretty soon I’ll hear a car horn and some hooligans yelling “I see London, I see France…!” Oh God, I thought the store was a block closer?

Eventually I get to the store, feeling like a fugitive scurrying down the steps and into the cool, air conditioned sanctuary. At last.

Carolann, the shop owner, greets me with a smile and compliments me on my outfit.

“You look cute!” she says, motioning to the dress.

Well at least I’m not alone in thinking I made a good choice this morning.

I filled her in on the situation and she immediately set to work, filling up an entire change room with tops and skirts, dresses and capris that are all in my size and totally suitable for work. My hero.

I settled on a beautiful turquoise dress and nice belt, which I wore out of the store – obviously. Carolann even put my old (transparent, embarrassing) dress in a pretty bag with pink tissue paper. No one would be the wiser.

I walked back up the street with a renewed energy and a heck of a lot more spring in my step, convinced that those sitting on patios or window shopping on the street would NEVER recognize me as that girl that recently passed by in all her peek-a-boo glory.

A cute new dress and total justification for buying it. Life is good again.

Love From Sarah

Wake up happy

This morning I woke up happy.

I woke up to my dad calling out “Baby Sarah! Time to get up!” And not in that crazed GET UP NOW! kind of way. In that good morning, I love you! kind of way.

So I opened my eyes and realized that Kasa, Dad’s dog, was snuggled up beside me like a teddy bear and we had been sleeping like that all night. Dad made me poached eggs on toast and some coffee, and we had a nice chat over breakfast before I headed back to Huntsville for a day of work.

I love my dad and I love waking up at his place.

Love From Sarah

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