Meatloaf

When you hear the word meatloaf you associate that word with the delicious albeit boring meal, or if your music taste is up to par, the band. However, when I hear the word meatloaf I think about my cat. Yes this is a cat blog.

I've always been crazy for cats. I love them, they're fluffy and sweet and they make cute little noises. When I was younger I'd see tortoise cats and think to myself I'd name that cat Meatloaf. Well lo and behold, I decided to get a kitten and name her Meatloaf. It was a total spur of the moment decision, looking online for free Kijiji kittens. I know people always say "get shelter cats" and "if you won't pay for a cat how do you expect to afford to feed one". Well I've paid for her vet bills and all her food by myself, I got a kitten that would have otherwise been put on the street, I picked a kitten that I fell in love with at first sight.

The owner wanted me to take Meatloaf's sister, which my mom decided she'd take and name Piper. When we moved she later decided not to take Piper with her and my dad wouldn't let me take both. My friend Julie took Piper in, and it broke my heart to give away a kitten but I knew that I couldn't get rid of my kitty. Piper has a great home, by the way, with a puppy and other cats. She's well fed and loved.

Anyways, I splurged at the nearest store for cat toys, kitten food, treats, and all kinds of pet supplies. I spoiled the kittens before I got them.

I didn't have a carrier so I grabbed a fabric ottoman and a fleece blanket to carry them home in. Right away I knew they weren't eight weeks old, they were smaller than any kittens I had seen, barely five weeks. They fit in the same ottoman with plenty of room to spare, they would have both fit comfortably in a shoe box, that's how small they were.

When they got home it was clear they were scared. They ran and hid under the futon in the living room, refusing to come out for hours. They made tiny little meows and looked adorable. After a few days they were comfortable being out and on furniture, although it was clear they were both not litter trained or able to eat solid food and drink out of a bowl. The previous owner had lied about their age to get them out of the house faster.

This is them within the first week, Meatloaf is the cat on the left while Piper is the cat on the right. The little button on the futon is about an inch or so wide.

Meatloaf was able to drink a water/tuna juice mixture by suckling off my fingers and then was able to drink straight from the bowl. Piper took longer to train. They both were able to eat tuna and soft foods, but Piper was able to eat solid food faster.

Litter training Piper was far more easy, she took to the litter box within a month and still occasionally used the newspaper we kept out for Meatloaf. Meatloaf had trouble with the box, with a variety of boxes and litters. She would pee on the paper and then poo under the coffee table. Or under the couch.

She also relied on Piper to bathe her and followed Piper around. They both would sleep in my bed and play together, almost appearing to fight. However they were both happy. Meatloaf would only growl when eating, and it became clear that she was undersized in comparison to Piper and did not want to share food.

It became clear they needed each other, or at least Meatloaf needed Piper. She would meow until Piper came to find her, meaning if Piper went off to explore the house and Meatloaf was laying beside me, I would then be awake at 3am trying to find the other kitty. They would always sleep beside each other, usually on my stomach or on the couch.

Eventually they were both able to eat solid food and function normally, except Meatloaf would still refuse to poo in the litter box. She was different, and my mom was annoyed with finding surprises before I could clean them up.


After a few months they had grown plenty. This is them on the box they originally came home in, now too small for the both of them. They had grown so much, getting into trouble knocking ornaments off the Christmas tree and even climbing in it, as cats will do. Meatloaf had an obsession with hiding under the tree skirt while Piper liked chewing on the fake branches. Cats, am I right? We had gotten them early in October and they lived together until February. Then I had moved in with my dad, taking Meatloaf with me. She still was not litter trained.

Meatloaf was also old enough to get fixed, and I had warned the vet about her litter issues. While she was at the vet she had used the box normally. So I went and bought the very expensive kitty litter they used, to which she would not use it at home. Strange kitty.

I was at a pet supply store buying cat attract, which worked for her to pee. The cashier asked if I had a second litter box, which I did. She then asked if I had a covered litter box, which I didn't. After buying a covered litter box Meatloaf magically began using it normally. She had some accidents still, but it was okay. She had finally learned.

The vet also suggested she eat less, as I was feeding her more than enough to ensure Piper would get food. On her own she'd meow for more than twice the amount of food she was supposed to eat. She would not eat the diet food and would get angry and knock things over unless she had more food. It took a long time to get her food trained, and even longer for her to accept she had to drink water out of a bowl, not a cup like she used to have. I had bought her a bowl for water but she wouldn't drink from it, only a glass that I would sip from. She was a weird cat.

She was a good kitty, and still is. Overall her litter issues are fixed, she eats food regularly. She had a thing for cat treats and decided to rip open a bag so now they have to be hidden. However she did have one problem.

She had a leash and harness meant for cats, that's what it said on the label. I had no problems with it before, but then a problem happened. My brother had taken her outside and attached the harness to a railing on the porch. She then jumped or fell, and he didn't notice right away. I was inside the house and he came in screaming with Meatloaf in his arms. She wasn't moving and I started screaming too. He put her down and she started having spasms. I was so scared, but she ran under my bed. It took hours and a whole bag of treats to coax her out into her carrier and we rushed her to the vets. They examined her and said nothing was wrong, but she walked with a limp in front of me for a day. I'd give her treats when I saw her limping, and it wasn't until my dad pointed out she was running and jumping that I clued in she only limped and meowed for treats. Another vet visit ensured she was fine.

We threw out the old harness and bought one specifically with cat safety in mind, asking plenty of questions. Her current harness is safe and she's never had an accident. We've taken her for walks outside and hiking, and the only problems there were a bout of fleas, a visit from a loud but friendly dog, and her climbing halfway up a tree to chase a squirrel before we pulled her down.

She loves car rides but if it's bumpy she hides under seats. She loves eating grass, especially cat grass. She steals food when you aren't looking, even a whole slice of shwarma pizza. She survived the move to Peterborough with her only complaint being she has to share her toys with Gemma the new cat. She's a very vocal cat, meowing when she's alone and wants attention. She loves belly rubs and snuggles. She likes to climb and knock things over. She hides in drawers and bags when you leave them open. She loves windows and won't leave you alone when you try to go outside. She needs to be in the bathroom with you at all times, and heaven forbid you don't let her jump onto the shower window ledge while you try to shower. She's afraid of the dirt devil but not the vacuum. She loves licking shopping bags and attacking the broom.

And despite getting a kitten free from Kijiji I have paid all of her vet bills, paid for preventative flea and worm treatments since she goes outside. I've paid for her to get fixed, for costly examinations. I've spent hundreds of extra dollars for special kitty litter and litter boxes. She gets a toy every time she goes to the vet. She gets the good catnip. She gets plenty of love and attention. She even has her own pillow she basically took over and saturated with cat fur despite multiple washes. She is my cat, she my Meatloaf.

Officially moved out!

Everyone knows what it's like to live at home, either from past experience or because they currently do live at home. And I'm sure the majority of people who live at home say things like "I can't wait until I move out" and "I want to leave right now!" They might mean these things when they say them, and I know I did when I would complain to my friends about living about home, envying my friends who had already moved out. And my friends would say how great it would be to move out, make plans about dream apartments and future parties. 

Moving out on your own isn't like that, not unless you're incredibly lucky or smart with money. Which I'm not. 

In my last year of college I had applied to university, Trent University and McMaster University. I was excited for both. Trent accepted me almost immediately, I was excited about that. McMaster had wait-listed me, but I had set my heart fully on Trent. 

Shortly after accepting my acceptance I began to panic. Trent was in Peterborough, about three hours away from my hometown and the only city I had ever lived in. I knew I had to move out, and I was terrified about that. Moving out isn't easy, especially with a pet cat, who was coming with me no matter what. 

I began to scour online ads for apartments for rent, having no luck for August leases and struggling to find pet friendly places. I only had a few appointments for showings, scheduled for my reading break at college. Yes, while my classmates were relaxing and studying for midterms, I struggled to find places to live for the next year.

I arrived in Peterborough, planning to stay with friends. These friends are amazing and helped me find amazing place I am currently living in. In fact, with sneaky planning Marion had helped set me up with my boyfriend Ryan, which was one of the best things that could have happened. I've known Marion since I was six, both awkward and shy kids at the same elementary school pushed into friendship by my over-talkative mother and her father who I remember wearing rain slickers. Alex, Marion's boyfriend, was friends with Ryan and the metal-heads, a crew of scary looking but amazing friends, all smart and interested in a variety of topics. They're the kinds of friends who you like hearing talk, because it's always interesting and you'll learn something new from them everyday, and they don't make you feel stupid for not knowing or understanding something.

Anyways, back to the original topic of moving out, Alex had shown me around Peterborough and walked me to a couple showing in parts of the city he knew I'd get lost in. We looked at the most beautiful one bedroom apartment, slightly out of my budget even if my boyfriend put his career aside and moved out with me, which thankfully he did not. The cute and smart boyfriend got accepted to Brock University after graduating college with a 90 average.

The next unit I looked at was a bachelor's and paled in comparison to the apartment I looked at. I seriously hope someone amazing rented that apartment out, the landlord was friendly and she even knew the tenant's dog's names. I do wish I could have lived there, but unless I managed to work a full time job and go to uni, I would barely afford to put bread on the table. 

However, the next day I looked at a student unit, and my eyes immediately went to the Supernatural poster in the entrance-way (Jenson Ackles and Jeffery Dean Morgan were my secret show crushes), and the many Marvel posters. I suddenly wanted to live there very badly. Upstairs lead me to a vibrant purple living room with funky red couches (awesome colours) and a shy fluffy grey cat. My current roommate, who is really cool and the owner of all the cool belongings) was at class that day, but her cat liked me and the places was larger than I expected. And instead of sharing a bathroom and kitchen with a bunch of students, typical of student houses I had seen from classmates in Hamilton, it was just two of us. The landlord said I could bring my cat with me, and I was really excited about that. Here was a pet friendly unit, in my budget, not overcrowded, and had a seemingly cool roommate (she was cool, and I found that out shortly after moving in, I scored roommate gold with her). This was the unit I needed. I grabbed a lease, and when I went home I got my dad to co-sign and sent my deposit away. The place was mine.

I had the option of living at home and paying rent until I moved out, or going at it and moving in right away. In hindsight it may have been a bad choice to move in right away. Peterborough has a high unemployment rate and I left a sweet job in Hamilton, but I wanted to grow up right away. I bought some furniture for my room, bought a fridge full of groceries and a freezer full of chicken and fish. I brought my stock of Lush products (best store ever), and my cat along.

My best friend Alex (girl Alex as the guys initially dubbed her since they were friends with Alex the metalhead before becoming friends with my Alex). She helped me get settled in, coax my angry and shy cat from her cage, and get used to the idea of living on my own. 

Naturally the cats hated each other at first, and sometimes they get hissy at each other. But they're better now, sitting on the same couch occasionally and my cat stealing Gemma's (the other cat) toys. 

Some of the struggles I had were grocery shopping. I'm used to buying some groceries at home and buying my own food, but now I had to start from scratch. I forgot to buy salt and pepper when I first moved in, but had purchased the shakers and a spice rack. I forgot to buy cooking oil and still don't own steak knives. I've lived here for almost a month and have yet to do laundry because the nearest laundromat is expensive and I barely have enough change. 

I forgot hand towels so I basically have a normal towel in the bathroom for hand drying, it works out. I have dish clothes and over mitts, but I don't have a spoon to scoop things, I own a ladle but it's hard to spoon pasta with a soup ladle. 

I own a cheese grater but my cheese went bad before I could eat it all. I have plates and bowls but they aren't microwave safe (plastic since I drop things a lot). I have real glasses and tea mugs, but forgot an electric kettle. Thankfully my roommate has one. I keep meaning to make mashed potatoes, but I don't have milk since it'll go bad before I can even drink a 1L carton. 

The worst is now that I pay for my groceries and don't have the comfort of food being in the house like at home, I have to make sure I eat it before it goes bad, and buy the food I'm sure I'll eat.

I have CD's here but no CD player. 

I have my laptop but it's overheating a lot and becoming more of a craptop. My cell's battery is dying faster and taking forever to charge, meaning that needs to be replaced.

But without a job those things will be put on hold.

And I still have to travel home for tooth cleaning, my college graduation, and possibly wisdom teeth removal if I can get the Cone CT scans (stupid teeth and stupid nerve).

But I have my cat, enough money to survive the summer without a job, a fridge full of food, and enough clothes to go a month without laundry. I have friends in the city, and family who will visit. I know if things get tough I have a backup plan, even if it means moving back home for a job and not having to buy groceries. 

And I do have to go back home to see a concert I've been dying to see; Marilyn Manson and Slipknot on my actual birthday! Best birthday present to myself ever. 

So yes moving out is hard, and I struggle sometimes. The main cause of my struggle is not knowing what I need exactly, and forgetting to bring certain things. I know I'm bringing my college textbooks up with me since they are amazing quality books. I'm bringing my old notes from my college lectures as well, since the teachers I had were amazing with notes and lectures. I want to take a lot of pictures this summer and hang posters on my walls. I plan on living here for the next four years, and I want to make this place me home. I'm homesick, although the majority of the homesickness is because I miss my best friend, my boyfriend, and my family; even my little brother.

The Gutsy Walk 2015

Another blog about the Gutsy Walk, this time for the 2015 Gutsy Walk. And this time I didn't walk alone.

Let's first give a bit of background story. I had a job at this point in time, at Pier 8 that I had mistakenly walked to the previous year. I was a fry cook and ice cream scoop at The Hamilton Waterfront Trust. It's a great place to work, honestly. The coworkers are friendly and cool. The ice cream is amazing, as stated before. I've eaten enough grill food and ice cream to say that the food there is good. Who doesn't love hamburgers on a hot summer day? Especially with banana peppers and mustard. I definitely recommend swinging by there and getting fries with mayonnaise (really good I swear), a burger, and a coconut/orange pineapple milkshake. Calorific but heavenly.

I worked that day after the Gutsy Walk, and I worked with two of the people walking with me; my boyfriend who worked as a skate boy, and his sister who worked as a grill girl with me. However, from the previous year I was confident in my ability to work after the 5km walk, I had put in 8km the previous year and I would routinely walk from my house near Inch Park to Pier 8, about a 6km walk, before my shift. My dad was also joining us on the walk because a) his daughter was sick with a gross disease, b) the walk was through a beautiful part of Hamilton, and c) he wanted the free pizza at the end.

It was a nice walk, and I had won the Mother's Day draw so I had received two necklaces and a ring from a sponsoring company. It was a perfect day. The walk itself was uneventful, no funny stories to tell and no new friends made. The weather network had promised gorgeous weather and delivered. The four of us walked at a nice pace, quickly finishing the walk. Afterwards, after my dad had eaten pizza and some other snacks, he gave me my lunch for work and went home. That left my boyfriend, Ryan, and his sister Alyssa, to bum around for an hour or so before work. We walked around Bayfront Park and then headed off to work early. They wanted to roller skate before work, but I was an awkward and clumsy person in general. I can ice skate, but roller skating is very different. I fall a lot, and I fall badly. So roller skating before work? Not a good idea. Oh well.

So I hung around at work for a bit. I felt a little funny but didn't think much of it. I was a rough and tough kid, maybe I got a little too much sun. When it was time for work I started my shift.

Now the grill is hot in general to work in. We have air conditioning and the fan, it works well. But I love cooking and the grill is extremely hot. In the winter that just passed, people looked at me like I was crazy for wearing a t-shirt in the grill, except the heat from cooking kicked the air conditioning on and I would sweat like crazy in a t-shirt.

Throw that heat from work on top of about 4 hours in the sun and black jeans and a band shirt. Throw all that together with a wickedly hot summer, hotter than the year before. I got a little heat sickness, which would have been fine if I had gone home like I did the year before and relaxed on the couch. Except this year I worked and decided to be my usual hardworking and stubborn self and worked for the next few hours on my feet, feeling worse and worse. Up until I suddenly felt like I had to puke.

Needless to say I called a friend for a ride home, you can't work around food if you're sick. When my friend picked me up, she noticed how incredibly sunburned I was. Despite liberally applying sunscreen before getting a ride down to Bayfront Park, my time in the sun turned pasty pale me into lobster girl. Boiled lobster girl.

However, I went back into work for my next shift, after taking that night and the next day to rest and taking cold cold showers and apply aloe Vera cream. I would still routinely walk to work before my shift, but only on days were it was cloudy or my shift started early in the day. If I walked to work on a later shift I would drink plenty of water and stop by Starbucks to get a cold frappe and enjoy a little break of AC and icy cold, sugary drinks while en route to work.

The trouble with bronchitis

As stated multiple times I was a sickly child, from digestive issues to strep throat, and since my teenage years; bronchitis. I mean I had always had a nasty hacking cough, a cough that resembled an 80-year old chain smoker, a cough that rattled my body and annoyed the crap out of my friends and family. I remember when I was little, probably around seven or eight, a friend had dubbed my cough the "Beethoven cough" because it sounded like the saint Bernard barking from the movie.

Regardless, I had a decent set of lungs. I could yell rather loudly, a skill useful for my short stint in sea cadets and for my previous job yelling food orders out as a fry cook. I could play tenor sax and love to sing, although my vocal skill set is limited to Rockband at an easy level. But my lungs are great, powerful, and my doctor had never even suggested asthma as a kid. My pipes were beautiful and healthy.

At fifteen I had a cold and cough, and although the cold went away my cough lingered on. It became so bad friends and teachers would make comments, I had to get notes to go to classes because it sounded like I was hacking up a lung. I developed a weird metallic taste with my coughs that I now associate as the taste of "shit, I need to go to a clinic" and the taste of antibiotics to come. After a couple months of the cough, which got worse and worse and became more painful, I finally sucked up the courage to go to the doctor's, one of my least favourite places despite spending a lot of time there. I went to a walk in clinic near the local mall, the walk in clinic I would then go to multiple times in the next 5 years for bronchitis and the flu. I was told I had bronchitis and that I was fighting the infection well enough on my own that antibiotics wouldn't help. They shoved a puffer at me to take when the coughing fits struck. The puffer tasted funny and I hated using it, but it did help. Oh well, I managed.

I got bronchitis a few times here and there, usually catching it early enough to get the puffer to treat it before antibiotics. I think I went on antibiotics once before the last time and had no trouble. Usually I would catch a cold and the cough would linger and turn to bronchitis. Whatever, it was manageable.

Then I caught the flu. Which sucked. Ask any college student how stressful midterms are. Especially midterms in the last semester of college. It sucks and is stressful enough. Now through the flu in there along with an extremely difficult class known as Biochemistry. I felt like crap and could barely function. I went to my favourite walk in clinic hoping for a doctor's note. Instead I got a giant-ass cotton swab shoved up my nose, which hurts a lot. I pulled it out against the doctor's orders because I am a bullheaded individual who hates having things shoved into my orifices. Needless to say my nose bled a little bit, nothing major. The doctor told me because I had pulled the q-tip out of my nose I wouldn't get positive results for the flu even if I actually had it. He wouldn't give me a damn doctor's note either, meaning I had to go to school with the flu.
*As a side note I used a bunch of those little bottles of hand sanitizer and forewarned all my teachers I was sick in hopes to not spread the germs around I didn't get any of my classmates sick either.

Regardless I wrote my midterms and did well on them. The flu symptoms went away a week later, but the cough still lingered. I was a little annoyed and lived off of cough drops. I got a phone call a couple weeks later from the Department of Infectious Health, which is a scary sounding department. I had donated blood a couple months before and thought something had turned up in my blood. Nope, it was Public Health calling because I had tested positive for the flu and they wanted to ask some follow up questions. The clinic had never called my back about having the flu, but Public Health had. The nurse on the phone was nice, suggested I stop boycotting flu shots and get one for next year (I support vaccines, I just hate needles and avoid them at all costs). She said my cough would linger for up to three weeks after the flu symptoms stopped. I didn't worry about the cough anymore.

The cough got progressively worse, and out of the blue the metallic taste had come back. Hello bronchitis. I went to the walk in clinic and spent four hours coughing my lungs out only to be told what I already knew; bronchitis. The nurses and doctor asked again and again if I smoked, not believing my answer of not ever touching a cigarette. Which was the truth. Oh well. They gave me a prescription for Azithromycin and told me to take it with food, and if my stomach gets upset to have yogurt.

Well as you know colitis sucks and I have tummy issues in general. Added a strong antibiotic at a high dose only exacerbated the problems. To put it bluntly, I could not hold any food in my stomach for long periods of time, needed to use the bathroom every ten minutes, and went through multiple rolls of toilet paper a day. Thus began the five days of hell. I had to go to class, it was the two weeks before exams and crunch time. We were still learning new material and I still had labs. Despite feeling like a Taco Bell victim I still had to attend class and make attempts to eat, although within the hour the food I ate would be completely gone from my system. Oh well.

After those five days ended I still had the cough. It lingered for another week or so but finally left my system. However I am a little worried now. Last week I caught a summer cold, no biggie. But the cough still hasn't gone away. No metallic taste yet, just going through a pack of cough drops a day.

So as a warning to anyone who thinks of smoking, or smoking in the house/car with their children, please don't. My mom and her roommates/boyfriends smoked in the house from the time I was 13 until I moved out at 17. I got bronchitis for the first time at 15 and now get it at least once a year. Who knows if the secondhand smoke caused it or the shitty mold in the townhouses I lived in for a stint caused it. Who knows if I had a predisposition to bronchitis, or if my immune system sucks. Who really knows? But please, don't smoke in the house with children, don't even risk having your kids more susceptible to bronchitis. The coughing fits hurt, they make your throat sore. The taste of your coughs is nasty. The sound is loud and scary. The antibiotics make you sick. And most of all, chronic bronchitis is a form of COPD, and that's a future you want to avoid.

The Gutsy Walk 2014

Every year there is an amazing event called the Gutsy Walk. The Gutsy Walk is your typical charity walk, pledges donate money and we walk a nice 5km walk. The Gutsy Walk focuses on Crohn's and Colitis, and obviously I just have to walk in this.

I'm actually really glad that there is a walk dedicated to these nasty diseases. I know when I first got sick a lot of my friends and family had no idea what colitis was and felt uncomfortable talking with me about it. It's a "yucky" disease and some people just feel uncomfortable talking about it. Regardless, we do deserve a walk.

So anyways, the first year I walked the Gutsy Walk I ended up walking by myself. I found out about the walk too late for any of my friends and family to make time to walk with me. I get it, it's early on a Sunday and some people like to sleep in and relax. Who in their right mind shows up at 10 in the morning to warm up for a 5km walk? Well my first year I did.

So before I talk about the walk I should just mention my horrible sense of direction. For those familiar with Hamilton you'll understand how crazy I am, for those not familiar with Hamilton, you're probably just as great as getting around as I was.

I had taken a bus down to the new MacNab terminal and figured I would just take the Bayfront bus to Bayfront Park. You'd think that the bus would go relatively close to the park, right? 

Nope, it goes down to Pier 8. Pier 8 is a nice little place. It has William's Cafe, Scoops (best ice cream in the world), roller skate or ice skate rentals (depending on the season), a grill, boat tours, and some nice fishing spots. It's actually a great place to go and hang out with friends or for family fun. It's great except it is not Bayfront Park. 

I knew enough about Hamilton that Bayfront Park is near Pier 4 and I asked someone for directions. Great idea if the person knew directions. They totally pointed me in the wrong direction and I ended up walking past the old Lakeport factory to some indoor skating area before I realized how lost I was. 

So here I was freaking out. I knew the event started officially at 11 and it was already 10! I was going to be late if I didn't figure out where the hell I was going soon (and if you don't know me, I freak out about being punctual).

So finally I find a sign at a public park, the kind with the map of local parks in the area. I had a general direction of where I was going and where I should be going. FINALLY!

So after knowing where I had to go, I book it over to Bayfront Park. On the way I pass a few other events, such as the Juvenile Diabetes Walk, and a few others that I can't quite recall. I knew I was on the right track and I could see some red and white signs that belong to the Gutsy Walk. After all the chaos of my horrible directional skills I was there. I had made it to the Gutsy Walk in time to do the walk. 

So when I got the the registration place I was shocked to see how the Gutsy Walk was laid out. It was a really nice set up. They had tents with snacks and drinks that you could eat before the walk or after, and after the walk they had pizza coming after. I was really impressed. I thought that we would just walk and stuff, that there would be some events after. But food? Woah man. That is just amazing. I was used to the Terry Fox Run (or walk with my cardio skills) and a Freezie at the end of the day. 

So after a very pumped up warm up we began the walk. It was gorgeous out that day and the walk was along the Harbour Front Trail, so that was just a beautiful walk. It was actually a walk that my family and I had done for fun. We are very outdoorsy people. In fact, this walk was very relaxing and something I could see myself doing on a regular basis.

Anyways, while I was on the walk an older gentleman started talking to me. He was doing the Juvenile Diabetes Walk that I mentioned earlier and was curious about what walk I was doing. I told him about the Gutsy Walk and a bit about Crohn's and Colitis. It turns out that a friend of his son's was really sick with Crohn's. The man was really surprised that there was a walk for the disease that struck him so close to home. It was then I realized that a lot of people are afraid to talk about things that involve the grosser workings of the human body.

Anyways, I finished the walk in a relatively fast time. My dad had told me walking 5km would take a few hours to do. It took me about an hour to finish, and I'm a slow walker. After the walk I was drawn to a couple white food tents by the smell of delicious pizza. This was before I had discovered Pizza Pizza's gluten free delight and was used to Domino's bland options. I had asked if they had any gluten free but I guess a lot of other people there were gluten free as they had run out fairly quickly. No worries, I ate a bunch of bananas. Probably better considering the fact I walked back to the terminal after the walk. 

Yeah, I must be a masochist. After my earlier mishap with directions and a 5km walk I decided it would be a good idea to walk about 3km to the terminal. Wow. This was definitely a leg day.

Gluten free? Is it actually good?

Let's start with my favourite gluten free go-to place, Burrito Boyz: Amazing gluten free corn tortillas, and the staff is well aware of what foods on the menu are gluten free. Great price for gluten free food and fresh tasting toppings. Another bonus; they can even do dairy free and vegan options! 11/10.

Pizza Pizza: Very nice topping selection. Decent tasting crust. A great feature when ordering online is when you select the gluten free crust all options that contain gluten disappear from their menu for that pizza alone. Not that bad of a price either. 9/10.

Domino's Pizza: I prefer their crust to Pizza Pizza's crust marginally. However, the toppings and sauce selections are very limited and not my favourite. The price is not worth the product in my mind. 4/10.

Kelsey's: I'm a huge Pesto Pasta fan. Good choice for gluten free and non-gluten free people. Their salad with the blood orange sauce and chicken is very good too. They have ice cream as their gluten free dessert, which I kinda can't eat. They also have steaks there for you gluten free red-meat eaters. I really do like this restaurant as a gluten free option. It's just a little too pricey for a casual dining place. 9/10

Red Rocket's: They said the honey garlic sauce is gluten free, and I hope it is. The non-breaded wings are decent, but my favourite part of their chicken wings when I was younger was the breading clumps covered in sauce. They have AMAZING potato wedges, so even if their sauces aren't gluten free you have those to look forward to. I'll give their wedges a 10/10 and the wings 7/10. Their salads? 4/10.

Spring Sushi: Don't even get me started. I love sushi. I'm a big fish lover and I love rice. And their eel? Mmmm <3 I'm not sure how much of their menu is gluten free. Just avoid soy sauce. I love it. It's beautiful in their. Beautiful decor, food, and overall atmosphere. This is by far my favourite place to eat. Oh did I mention all you can eat? Hell yeah! 100000/10!

Spring Rolls: They have good gluten free options. It's not my favourite sushi restaurant but I do like it and would eat there again. 7/10.

The Works: They have great gluten free options. Great red meat free options. I love the food there... except the gluten free bun. I find the gluten free bun a little spongy and eggy tasting. If you're very picky about the taste of the bun I recommend getting a bunless burger. Buns: -1/10. Everything else: 8/10.

South Pacific: Well I really don't like Chinese take out food. It's not bad or anything, we just sued to eat it at least once a week and I'm very sick of it. I like the fact they advertise no MSG. However, the only gluten free food is the pineapple rice and mixed veggies. 6/10.

Tim Horton's: Well, I just love your gluten free macaroons. That's really all I can eat there. The macaroon are pretty good though. Keep it up and maybe start including more options. 8/10 for the macaroons.

Dating the sick girl really must suck

So as mentioned earlier I have a very wonderful and supporting boyfriend. He understands how crappy (pun intended) have colitis can be. Usually it doesn't cause any problems. Sometimes my stomach really hurts and I'm not up for hanging out, but I usually manage me symptoms.

So what's the biggest, and pretty much only problem, with going out on dates? My damn food restrictions. Imagine a life without gluten, dairy, and red meat? Yes I can eat very small amounts of these foods, but I pay dearly for it.

The biggest challenge is finding a restaurant that I can eat at, that I like, and that he likes. Take out food also delivers problems too (another horrible pun, I'm sorry). Have you guys ever eaten gluten free food? If not I really don't recommend it and if so, I'm so sorry that you had to have eaten that stuff. 

Don't get me wrong, rice is pretty good. So are veggies and stuff. But a lot of good food has gluten, and waaaaay too many sauces do. You know how gross sauce-less chicken wings are? Or gluten free pizza without sauce and cheese is? Gluten free spongy burger buns? Yeah, no thanks.

It also sucks trying to go to places that my boyfriend and his friends love. The guys all love this place called Burger Barn, and I'll give it to them, the burgers are great. Except now I can't eat burgers. And they don't have any salads I can eat there, so they improvise. The salads aren't bad either, I'm not knocking the place. It's just called Burger Barn, not Salad Saloon (kudos to Will for that lovely joke).

So anyways, it's pretty hard even finding a place to eat at. Some places do gluten free, like Kelsey's and Boston Pizza. Those are good places to eat at, and Kelsey's pesto pasta is the best gluten free dish I've eaten at all, but only eating a few dishes over and over again gets really boring. Kelsey's does have a lot of other options, but the whole dairy and red meat free takes those away from me.

There are other places that do gluten free, like my favourite burrito place Burrito Boyz. I ate there before I was gluten free and gladly switched to their gluten free options, and the prices are pretty cheap. It just really sucks because pretty much that's our go-to place to eat. 

So anyways, once a place is found then comes the lovely part of paying the bill. You know how expensive gluten free specialty items are? Holy crap, I should be getting freakin' lobster for that price.

Sometimes I do cheat on my diet, but it's not worth it anymore. My body is finally used to avoiding my trigger foods and then bam, I decide to eat a normal pizza. That pretty much puts an end to date night early and even takes me down for the next day or two. Nothing more romantic than horrible stomach pains, gas, nausea, and bloody waste.

Even something as simple as going to the movies presents a problem. First of all, I'm supposed to be caffeine free (my Starbucks and Monster cravings really kill me) so picking a pop to drink is hard. I meant I always hated Coke and Pepsi so that's not too bad. Canada Dry, Crush, and Mug are caffeine free so that's not too bad as long as the place carries those drinks. But popcorn? Butter makes me sick, the fake butter makes me feel like I'll puke, and overly salted popcorn will make me feel sick the next day. Oh yeah, did I mention heavily salted foods will make me sick? Bye bye potato chips and salted nuts. Not worth the nausea. Like wtf body? I just want to eat junk food that isn't soy milk ice cream. 

It's okay though, I'll eat Skittles. Gluten free and trigger food free. And the Tropical Skittles are amazing. None of my friends agree with me so I don't have to share.

Also, Maynard's candy is trigger food free, but I worked at a candy factory that handled their brand. I've seen enough candy to last me a lifetime. I swear I gained weight just by smelling the candy. Want to stop eating your favourite junk foods? Work at the factory that produces them. You won't want to eat the junk food ever again.

Anyways, once we're on a date it's perfectly romantic. After all those stupid troubles I'm a normal teenage girl on a date. No worries, I won't get sick on the date as long as I don't cheat on my diet. I even offer to pay for my half of the meal, not that my boyfriend lets me unless it's my turn to pay (every other date I pay, I'm not the type of girl that expects my boyfriend to pay for every date).

The best part about the date? I won't get you sick since colitis isn't contagious.