In these days of heightened security, you expect the guards at the U.S. border to be asking you if you're, say, packing heat. Today, after it was established that I was Canadian born and bred and heading down into the U.S. to workout at my gym, I got My Favourite Border Question of All Time:

"Ma'am, you bringing meat?"

For a split second I fantasized going into Bogart mode. "Oh yeah, I'm packing meat. I've got a big, juicy Alberta t-bone sitting right there in my glove compartment. One false move and you're getting it right between the eyes. Now back away slowly, and nobody gets hurt."

Instead I burst out laughing. I couldn't help myself. It was just such an odd and unexpected question. Fortunately he could see the humour, too and once it was established that I was not intent on sowing Mad Cow Disease in Vermont I was allowed to go to my gym.

Speaking of food and my gym, I am disappointed to announce that although many folks OFFERED to make me a bonus workout CD and take those ancient Kinder Eggs off my hands a few months ago, well, no one has actually come through.

There I was, offering musty Christmas-themed candy products and oddly enough people had second thoughts about taking them. I know. I'm as shocked by this turn of events as you are.

So now I am forced to repeat the offer. Only instead of being just slightly old and musty, the Kinder Eggs in question are now going on six months old! They have gone from being somewhat stale into the category of Christmas-themed Possible Bio Hazard.

You know you want them.

Somebody, please, make me one final workout CD.

Please. I have much enjoyed all the ones I've received to date, but they have been played to pieces and I need new music to inspire me as I sweat my heart out on the elliptical machine.

And, since I'm already on my knees abasing myself, I might as well make one final, ugly confession.

I like disco.

Oh and not in that ironic, one eyebrow raised hipster sort of way.

I genuinely like disco. Disco makes me want to dance.

I know all the words to the Village People's "Y-M-C-A" and am bitter because I do not know the hand gestures.

You want to see me with my giddy on? Put on the Weathergirl's "It's Raining Men." The most fun I can remember having in a long time was the night I spent at Club Unity with my daughter and her friends, as one of Montreal's better known drag queens Mado played disco.

The woman who normally can't keep her eyes open past 11 was up way past 2 and raring to go.

Yep, on the outside I am a 52-year-old fashion-impaired straight woman living a life of perpetual bad hair days. Inside, if the crowd at Club Unity is any indication, I am an au courant gay man who understands and is one with The Power of Mousse.

So please, somebody, I'm BEGGING YOU make me one last workout CD and take those freakin' Kinder Eggs off my hands.

And, um, if you could, would you please throw a little disco on it?

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 285.88 miles (460 kilometers)
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers