Last evening I went to a "meet the grads" event for my school's alumni association. It was so strange because, in a little over 2 months, I may well be an alumni member as well. Seems like the last 20 months have flown by.
I worked on a group project for a while that may or may not be going OK. It's hard to tell because it's still in pieces. We're meeting online tonight (how different group projects are now than when I was in my undergrad; now I rarely meet my group mates in person) and then it will be more apparent how much more there is to do. The other assignment, the one that is causing me the most worry, isn't due until the 12th or something, but I desperately want to get it done or mostly done by class this week because I have do to a presentation about it. Three other assignments await my completion of the former two.
Now I find myself spending time thinking about rock shows and how to afford festivals out of town.
Over the course of the last week I wound up spending more time out than working on homework, which probably added to my stress levels. (Though last evening I spoke with one of my classmates/friends who said I'm always so calm and relaxed. Clearly she isn't around me during the key parts of the day when I can't even talk because my nerves are making me feel physically ill.) Monday I saw Plants and Animals, a band I'd wanted to see since hearing their brilliant song on Radio 3. It was the first time I'd seen my friend in ages as well, so it was nice to catch up, though to the detriment of both my attention span and my liver. I couldn't talk and listen to the bands at the same time, so only caught half the show, but it was still great. Totally worth the loss of work time. Wednesday night I went to the Media Club again with aforementioned friend to see the Born Ruffians. I'd really wanted to see BR again since the last time I saw them was the fateful blood donation birthday (they were the band I was watching when I had my "episode") and worried I'd miss something good if I didn't make up for the last time. Wise decision to go to this show, as it was pretty darn fun. Thursday I had a ticket to the hotly anticipated Vampire Weekend/YACHT show, though was looking forward to YACHT more than VW. The new girlfriend in YACHT was OK, but probably better for the guys than for me. Still, I *heart* YACHT. Vampire Weekend was OK, but, as discussed with Ken T., they're just another band at this point; nothing super special. I do, however, have a crush on the bassist with the receding hairline, even though he's just slightly older than the 12-year-old singer/guitarist.
This week I also purchased a ticket to Sled Island in Calgary. Now I just have to wait for cheap flights. The additional lineup at Pitchfork is also making me want to count my pennies for a (second) flight to Chicago this July. It's probably unwise to plan to spend all the money I don't have from my fictitious job that doesn't exist yet. Still... girls just want to have fun.
Which reminds me... NME says Cyndi Lauper's music festival is coming through town in July and features, among others, Joan Jett! Deer Lake Park, you surprise me.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
slowing down
The lead-up to this weekend had me frantic. With so much to do and so little motivation to get it done, I dreaded making the 4 1/2 hour drive over the Hope-Princeton to my parents' house for the weekend (with the same time lost to return home). I had a scratchy, sometimes sore throat for more than a week that made me stay home at the start of the week to try to sleep it off. After nearly crying in front of one of my profs as he assured me I wouldn't fail the class I was afraid I was failing, I had only to get through a short work day and an uneventful night before what I assumed would be a miserable weekend.
Thankfully things didn't turn out as I thought they might.
We got a late start on Friday, with my sis and bro-in-law picking me up an hour later than the outside, last-minute time departure. My sister neglected to buy Christmas presents, so we had to stop at a mall to pick a couple things up for my parents and brother. (Mine were ready, purchased a week before Christmas, yet never mailed because I'm really terrible at wrapping things in brown paper and taking them to the postal outlet.) By the time we got on the road and onto the #1 it was almost 11:30 (not the 9am Anita originally suggested). To normal people, this would be fine. To me, I kept thinking about how my parents worry when we aren't where they think we should be at a certain time. Eventually I started reading a book and lost 3 1/2 hours, surprised each time I looked up to see where we were.
The weather is nice in Osoyoos, sunny but slightly chilly from the wind. Last night after dinner I realised I was calm and all the stress about the trip was gone. We went to the crappiest bar in town to watch the hockey game, only to find it was nearly dead and we didn't know anyone there. It's weird to realise you've been away from your hometown longer than you lived there. I made my family watch a doc on Frank Lloyd Wright, further horrifying them with the story of how his lover and others were axed to death during a fire. Architecture always has fascinating stories to go with the buildings.
This morning I got up 9 hours after going to bed. NINE hours. We went across the street to the elementary school to watch the Easter egg hunt, but got bored and went for the customary drive around town to see what's changed. It makes me sad to do that drive because, almost always, the results are ugly and cold, and all comes down to kickbacks and someone trying to make a quick buck at the expense of the town's character. We stopped off at the town hall to watch our cousin get his head shaved for a cancer fundraiser. These sorts of things seem to just happen in small towns: parades break out (we missed the one this afternoon), dances are planned on the street, people sing karaoke in public... It's creepy. That these things happen also mean I can kill a bunch of family birds with one stone. I managed to talk to all my cousins from the one family branch within a 20 minute visit.
In the afternoon we went to my Legion (K. Knudson #173) for the meat draw, one of the most important parts of all visits to my parents'. I love the meat draw: 15 chances to win cuts of meat for $3, and cheap pitchers of draft with a glass (or two) of clamato for $11.40. We sat with Dick and Doreen, a couple my dad sits with weekly whom I've met a few times. Seemingly demure, these two like to play lottery-related games, playing online poker every few minutes for the first hour. They talked us into the 50/50 online draw that Keno runs, just $1 each for 6 chances to win. I'll get to the point: we didn't win meat. We never win meat when I'm there. When Peter (my bro-in-law) comes, he or my sister usually win something. Today: he won $164 in the cash draw at the end with the ticket I bought with my money. Le sigh. He and I also played a few ends of shuffleboard, but since the draw was about to start I left it as a tie, much to his chagrin. (Knowing how competitive I am with games in general, you must understand that this was a breakthrough of sorts.) I love getting tipsy drunk in the early afternoon.
We had our Easter dinner tonight because we're heading back tomorrow. We've got it down to a fine science: Mom preps things lazily so it never seems very stressful to get it all done, we help with the final stuff when we get home from the bar (we usually have to leave on Sundays when we visit), and we're seated with full glasses of U-Brew wine by 6. I also pushed and succeeded in implementing a mid-dinner break that includes putting the leftover food into containers and washing all dirty dishes between dinner and dessert. This ensures that we have a few minutes to let the food settle in our bellies and can eat dessert leisurely. Today we had the tastiest, mostly sugar-free tiramisu ever and some old dessert wine our Auntie Liz left at the house 11 years ago. Final dishes took less than 5 minutes to do.
I'm hoping that, when I finish school, I'll have more time to visit. It's been fun.
Thankfully things didn't turn out as I thought they might.
We got a late start on Friday, with my sis and bro-in-law picking me up an hour later than the outside, last-minute time departure. My sister neglected to buy Christmas presents, so we had to stop at a mall to pick a couple things up for my parents and brother. (Mine were ready, purchased a week before Christmas, yet never mailed because I'm really terrible at wrapping things in brown paper and taking them to the postal outlet.) By the time we got on the road and onto the #1 it was almost 11:30 (not the 9am Anita originally suggested). To normal people, this would be fine. To me, I kept thinking about how my parents worry when we aren't where they think we should be at a certain time. Eventually I started reading a book and lost 3 1/2 hours, surprised each time I looked up to see where we were.
The weather is nice in Osoyoos, sunny but slightly chilly from the wind. Last night after dinner I realised I was calm and all the stress about the trip was gone. We went to the crappiest bar in town to watch the hockey game, only to find it was nearly dead and we didn't know anyone there. It's weird to realise you've been away from your hometown longer than you lived there. I made my family watch a doc on Frank Lloyd Wright, further horrifying them with the story of how his lover and others were axed to death during a fire. Architecture always has fascinating stories to go with the buildings.
This morning I got up 9 hours after going to bed. NINE hours. We went across the street to the elementary school to watch the Easter egg hunt, but got bored and went for the customary drive around town to see what's changed. It makes me sad to do that drive because, almost always, the results are ugly and cold, and all comes down to kickbacks and someone trying to make a quick buck at the expense of the town's character. We stopped off at the town hall to watch our cousin get his head shaved for a cancer fundraiser. These sorts of things seem to just happen in small towns: parades break out (we missed the one this afternoon), dances are planned on the street, people sing karaoke in public... It's creepy. That these things happen also mean I can kill a bunch of family birds with one stone. I managed to talk to all my cousins from the one family branch within a 20 minute visit.
In the afternoon we went to my Legion (K. Knudson #173) for the meat draw, one of the most important parts of all visits to my parents'. I love the meat draw: 15 chances to win cuts of meat for $3, and cheap pitchers of draft with a glass (or two) of clamato for $11.40. We sat with Dick and Doreen, a couple my dad sits with weekly whom I've met a few times. Seemingly demure, these two like to play lottery-related games, playing online poker every few minutes for the first hour. They talked us into the 50/50 online draw that Keno runs, just $1 each for 6 chances to win. I'll get to the point: we didn't win meat. We never win meat when I'm there. When Peter (my bro-in-law) comes, he or my sister usually win something. Today: he won $164 in the cash draw at the end with the ticket I bought with my money. Le sigh. He and I also played a few ends of shuffleboard, but since the draw was about to start I left it as a tie, much to his chagrin. (Knowing how competitive I am with games in general, you must understand that this was a breakthrough of sorts.) I love getting tipsy drunk in the early afternoon.
We had our Easter dinner tonight because we're heading back tomorrow. We've got it down to a fine science: Mom preps things lazily so it never seems very stressful to get it all done, we help with the final stuff when we get home from the bar (we usually have to leave on Sundays when we visit), and we're seated with full glasses of U-Brew wine by 6. I also pushed and succeeded in implementing a mid-dinner break that includes putting the leftover food into containers and washing all dirty dishes between dinner and dessert. This ensures that we have a few minutes to let the food settle in our bellies and can eat dessert leisurely. Today we had the tastiest, mostly sugar-free tiramisu ever and some old dessert wine our Auntie Liz left at the house 11 years ago. Final dishes took less than 5 minutes to do.
I'm hoping that, when I finish school, I'll have more time to visit. It's been fun.
Friday, March 14, 2008
general grumbling without specific action
I'm having a shitty day. It's really hard to keep things in perspective when it seems like the most basic parts of my life are falling apart.
Work is just a mess in general and it seems like there's something new daily to make it worse. Today I found out the department I work in and was hoping to continue to work in is, essentially, being knocked down to the lowest possible priority and shoved into a corner to be forgotten, quite literally. It seems unlikely there will be any place for a librarian to work on this floor, so I can kiss my co-workers (whom I adore and are the only reason I haven't completely lost my shit at work) goodbye when I have to resign my hours at the end of April.
Today I also discovered that my last tuition payment is enormous and I have to pay for fees that I can't actually benefit from, like athletics fees and a UPass. I don't know... that just seems stupid to me. It's money I could better use for when I don't have a job.
School... I just can't even talk about it. I'd be surprised if I managed to finish anything at this point. I think I'm about 2 inches from rock bottom.
I also know I'm being avoided, and that is frustrating because I can't do anything about it. It's impossible not to take something like that personally because it can't be anything BUT personal. Fine, I can be overwhelming and demand more of friends than they're willing to share of themselves, but avoiding... Just fricking TELL me you don't want to talk to/see me. Don't avoid me for weeks at a time. Geezus.
In short, my day could be better. I know that, really, I have nothing to bitch about because my life isn't that bad. I'm not a drug addict, living on the street, dying of anything, penniless, or completely alone. I'm just having a bad day; I really hate it.
I'm going to drink after work until I can't see and try not to alienate myself further with those that still actually speak to me. At this point, it will be a struggle.
Work is just a mess in general and it seems like there's something new daily to make it worse. Today I found out the department I work in and was hoping to continue to work in is, essentially, being knocked down to the lowest possible priority and shoved into a corner to be forgotten, quite literally. It seems unlikely there will be any place for a librarian to work on this floor, so I can kiss my co-workers (whom I adore and are the only reason I haven't completely lost my shit at work) goodbye when I have to resign my hours at the end of April.
Today I also discovered that my last tuition payment is enormous and I have to pay for fees that I can't actually benefit from, like athletics fees and a UPass. I don't know... that just seems stupid to me. It's money I could better use for when I don't have a job.
School... I just can't even talk about it. I'd be surprised if I managed to finish anything at this point. I think I'm about 2 inches from rock bottom.
I also know I'm being avoided, and that is frustrating because I can't do anything about it. It's impossible not to take something like that personally because it can't be anything BUT personal. Fine, I can be overwhelming and demand more of friends than they're willing to share of themselves, but avoiding... Just fricking TELL me you don't want to talk to/see me. Don't avoid me for weeks at a time. Geezus.
In short, my day could be better. I know that, really, I have nothing to bitch about because my life isn't that bad. I'm not a drug addict, living on the street, dying of anything, penniless, or completely alone. I'm just having a bad day; I really hate it.
I'm going to drink after work until I can't see and try not to alienate myself further with those that still actually speak to me. At this point, it will be a struggle.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
bloody hell
Gosh, I'm really, really stupid sometimes.
I had an out-of-towner visiting, what, 2 1/2 weeks ago and last night I finally put the futon into the upright position. It seemed like a good time because my friend and I decided to watch some terrible films from the library and that seems easier with something to lean back on. This particular futon has seen better days, with bent bits hiding below the lumpy mattress, the occasional loose bolt or nut on the carpet beneath with no indication of where it's from or how important it is. I tried to push the futon into its final position, but it was fighting me. With one final push, I got it to fall heavily into place. Onto my right pinkie finger.
I wound up bleeding on my friend's shirt (no idea how, but am now a bit of a blood stain removal master) and woke to find a small pool of blood collected at the top of the bandage, ready to overflow any second. Ew. It wasn't clotting, so I went to my favourite MediCentre to get it looked at this morning. My favourite doctor was in and he was very gentle and sympathetic to my finger plight, softly cradling my retarded mess of a finger while we discussed the disgusting future of the nail in question. I know it's hard to see, but the nail is broken in half and there are shards clinging to the cut skin. He suggested, if I don't like the feeling of the half-attached upper half, he could freeze my finger and rip it off now. I decided to wait it out. Gives me an excuse to get even more bandages; I've got about 6 boxes of different varieties, depending how cutsie I feel.
I did wind up missing class this morning to see my dreamy doctor (seriously, he has only ever worn wildly attractive ensembles when I've seen him, which is a significant number of times), which wasn't such a bad thing since my sleeping has been poor. And the bandage thing makes me look more legit than I feel, with everyone thinking it's broken. But I also can't explain in too graphic of detail what actually happened, because the mention of hanging skin and scabbing under the fingernail seems to creep a lot of people out.
In short, I need a new temporary resting place for out-of-town guests. I'm pretty sure it would be weird to have everyone sleep in my bed.
I had an out-of-towner visiting, what, 2 1/2 weeks ago and last night I finally put the futon into the upright position. It seemed like a good time because my friend and I decided to watch some terrible films from the library and that seems easier with something to lean back on. This particular futon has seen better days, with bent bits hiding below the lumpy mattress, the occasional loose bolt or nut on the carpet beneath with no indication of where it's from or how important it is. I tried to push the futon into its final position, but it was fighting me. With one final push, I got it to fall heavily into place. Onto my right pinkie finger.
I wound up bleeding on my friend's shirt (no idea how, but am now a bit of a blood stain removal master) and woke to find a small pool of blood collected at the top of the bandage, ready to overflow any second. Ew. It wasn't clotting, so I went to my favourite MediCentre to get it looked at this morning. My favourite doctor was in and he was very gentle and sympathetic to my finger plight, softly cradling my retarded mess of a finger while we discussed the disgusting future of the nail in question. I know it's hard to see, but the nail is broken in half and there are shards clinging to the cut skin. He suggested, if I don't like the feeling of the half-attached upper half, he could freeze my finger and rip it off now. I decided to wait it out. Gives me an excuse to get even more bandages; I've got about 6 boxes of different varieties, depending how cutsie I feel.
I did wind up missing class this morning to see my dreamy doctor (seriously, he has only ever worn wildly attractive ensembles when I've seen him, which is a significant number of times), which wasn't such a bad thing since my sleeping has been poor. And the bandage thing makes me look more legit than I feel, with everyone thinking it's broken. But I also can't explain in too graphic of detail what actually happened, because the mention of hanging skin and scabbing under the fingernail seems to creep a lot of people out.
In short, I need a new temporary resting place for out-of-town guests. I'm pretty sure it would be weird to have everyone sleep in my bed.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
containment
Just spoke to my away friend who relayed terrible, terrible news. His friend, someone I'd met years ago, hanged himself last week in a forest reserve. None of his friends had any idea there was any sort of problem, so it came as a complete shock to everyone. He seemed so together, with a great job, loads of close friends, and had recently started DJing, an enhancement of his MC work. He was 34.
My friend had his own struggles years ago. Just before the last time I saw him (the day before, in fact), he tried to commit suicide. Thankfully he got scared and got his roommate (now wife) to drive him to the hospital to pump his stomach. It's taken him about 7 years to be truly well. Talking with him about his friend, I think it finally hit him how close he was to finishing the job back then.
At a certain time, I realised how many people I knew who attempted suicide before I knew them. It was shocking, upwards of a dozen. It made me wonder why I seemed to be attracted to people who went that way, and worried me that something in me would trigger the same desire. I never really figured out the whys and pushed any feelings about suicide into a little corner of my mind, left to collect spiderwebs.
The news about Brian shook me. It brought back all the old feelings I had when my friend tried to kill himself. The guilt is the part that crushes me, that even though we were so close I didn't know how close he was to ending his life. It must be so strange for him to be in my position after his own struggles, though he now can only talk about how sad he is that his friend felt he couldn't talk to him. It is something I completely relate to. Now I just have to figure out how to contain these feelings and stow them away again.
My friend had his own struggles years ago. Just before the last time I saw him (the day before, in fact), he tried to commit suicide. Thankfully he got scared and got his roommate (now wife) to drive him to the hospital to pump his stomach. It's taken him about 7 years to be truly well. Talking with him about his friend, I think it finally hit him how close he was to finishing the job back then.
At a certain time, I realised how many people I knew who attempted suicide before I knew them. It was shocking, upwards of a dozen. It made me wonder why I seemed to be attracted to people who went that way, and worried me that something in me would trigger the same desire. I never really figured out the whys and pushed any feelings about suicide into a little corner of my mind, left to collect spiderwebs.
The news about Brian shook me. It brought back all the old feelings I had when my friend tried to kill himself. The guilt is the part that crushes me, that even though we were so close I didn't know how close he was to ending his life. It must be so strange for him to be in my position after his own struggles, though he now can only talk about how sad he is that his friend felt he couldn't talk to him. It is something I completely relate to. Now I just have to figure out how to contain these feelings and stow them away again.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
time of day
Wasn't today lovely? The sun was bright, the sky clear, with just the right amount of crispness in the air. I sat by the water for a smidge before my class' fieldtrip to the archives. Even though I sat on the sunniest bench, I still wound up with a cold bum. There were two bald eagles nesting in one of the trees! My MacIntosh was especially red and juicy.On the tour, the archivist used "skookum" in a sentence. I'm not sure anyone else noticed it; half my class is foreign to the west coast and I'm not sure how often people use skookum in conversation east of the Rockies. I appreciated the adjective. (Is that right? Is it an adjective? Or an adverb?) The archives have fantastic panoramas of early Vancouver up right now. I was full of glee when we talked about freezing photographs.
My friend drove me most of the way home, dropping me at Main and 12th, so I walked home and tried to soak up as much of the light as I could. I kept humming Owl & the Pussycat songs and that made me wish I had an MP3 player so I could listen to them as I walked. My neighbourhood has a lot of stuff going on, but there were a few moments of stillness. Walking by the Western Front, the trees and power poles cast the most attractive shadows on the side.
Days like this distract me from what I know must be done. You know what I mean.When time disconnects and you're caught in a dream. Then it's gone...
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
soooo tiiiired
Anxiety has awoken me at an ungodly hour. Even the scary crows aren't up yet. I'm frustrated about this inability to sleep a full night without repeated wake ups. Maybe I would be nicer if I slept more.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
let the good times roll
This has been a particularly fun weekend.
My friend Darcy has been visiting since Friday, which is always a treat. Friday night I collected him from the airport after an especially frustrating bus ride. One of the buses that runs every 12 minutes chose to arrive 45 minutes after I got to the stop, which resulted in me being late to the carousel. You know how I hate being late. Thankfully Darcy's flight was a smidge late as well so I beat the luggage. On the bus into the city there were a few high school boys who were being obnoxious, so when one asked me if I had any rollies I said no and tried to ignore them. Until he said I was useless, which resulted in my telling him he was just as useless because he didn't have papers either. They were mildly entertaining, but I really pulled out the bitchiness because I just didn't want to be the sort that gets intimidated by rich little kids from the west side who need attention. When I called him a little bitch that might have gone too far, but he was being a little bitch, and I figured I could kick him in the junk if he tried to fight. As an aside, there are very few drinking establishments that serve post-12:30am on a Friday night in my neighbourhood. This is frustrating.
Yesterday we wandered around Main for a few hours, popping into some of the more interesting antique shops, including Baker's Dozen that has the most amazing stuff ever. (I've since decided I want to make one area of a room into a hunting room, with hunting paintings, dark brown wood, perhaps a stuffed pheasant and the like. Don't ask why; just accept this eccentricity.) After a bit, we went to Chinatown to try to have dim sum with Glenn, though later in the afternoon. I say try because places in Chinatown don't seem to want to serve dim sum after 2. Sigh. We walked back to the 'hood and had a wee rest before heading to Dadeo for dinner (may as well go to an Edmonton restaurant with a former Edmontonian), and then the Vet's Hall for drinks and karaoke/shuffleboard. I'm starting to feel like a regular there; it seems like I'm there every other Saturday. Jaime and I got slaughtered by the boys at shuffleboard (whatever skills I may have had seem now to have been luck because I couldn't throw a rock that stuck to save my life), and eventually gave up and concentrated on waiting for Glenn's and my song to come up for karaoke. It never did. This was disappointing. (It was going to be a duet: "Don't Go Breaking My Heart." I was meant to sing the boy part, him the girl part.) I suggested we go to Glenn's to play SingStar, so Darcy, Glenn and I went to his while Jaime headed home. I get a little too competitive with games and SingStar is no exception. I kicked ass on most of my songs, except for the falsetto ones because Glenn is surprisingly good at falsetto. We had bacon sandwiches and New Zealand fruit vodka that I can't remember the name of and New Zealand candy. (I realise this is admitting to my dietary failures, but it was a special occasion. Yup, it was.) A great, superfun night.
This morning we went for breakfast and bumped into my always-rad friend Kimmie. After a quick chat, Darcy and I tried to go to Nice Cafe for breakfast, but the lineup looked too long (waiting for more than one other group to be seated is too long at that place. The turnover is slooooooow) so we popped up the street to Reno's. The pancake special is such a good deal that we both got it. I sent Darcy off for the day and I'm supposed to be doing homework. I'm just so tired right now (I think I managed about 5 1/2 hours last night; just 5 the night before because I had to go for my last blood test early) and it's probably a better idea to have a nap. Later this afternoon we're going to collect our TanPoh from the airport after her whirlwind European tour. I'm pretty excited to see her; I think it's been almost 2 months!
Have I mentioned that I like H&M a great deal? I do. I want to go there again soon, so if any of you happen to have a car and the will to drive to the outer reaches of the suburbs, I'm in. Also, next Saturday I will have a new oven!
My friend Darcy has been visiting since Friday, which is always a treat. Friday night I collected him from the airport after an especially frustrating bus ride. One of the buses that runs every 12 minutes chose to arrive 45 minutes after I got to the stop, which resulted in me being late to the carousel. You know how I hate being late. Thankfully Darcy's flight was a smidge late as well so I beat the luggage. On the bus into the city there were a few high school boys who were being obnoxious, so when one asked me if I had any rollies I said no and tried to ignore them. Until he said I was useless, which resulted in my telling him he was just as useless because he didn't have papers either. They were mildly entertaining, but I really pulled out the bitchiness because I just didn't want to be the sort that gets intimidated by rich little kids from the west side who need attention. When I called him a little bitch that might have gone too far, but he was being a little bitch, and I figured I could kick him in the junk if he tried to fight. As an aside, there are very few drinking establishments that serve post-12:30am on a Friday night in my neighbourhood. This is frustrating.
Yesterday we wandered around Main for a few hours, popping into some of the more interesting antique shops, including Baker's Dozen that has the most amazing stuff ever. (I've since decided I want to make one area of a room into a hunting room, with hunting paintings, dark brown wood, perhaps a stuffed pheasant and the like. Don't ask why; just accept this eccentricity.) After a bit, we went to Chinatown to try to have dim sum with Glenn, though later in the afternoon. I say try because places in Chinatown don't seem to want to serve dim sum after 2. Sigh. We walked back to the 'hood and had a wee rest before heading to Dadeo for dinner (may as well go to an Edmonton restaurant with a former Edmontonian), and then the Vet's Hall for drinks and karaoke/shuffleboard. I'm starting to feel like a regular there; it seems like I'm there every other Saturday. Jaime and I got slaughtered by the boys at shuffleboard (whatever skills I may have had seem now to have been luck because I couldn't throw a rock that stuck to save my life), and eventually gave up and concentrated on waiting for Glenn's and my song to come up for karaoke. It never did. This was disappointing. (It was going to be a duet: "Don't Go Breaking My Heart." I was meant to sing the boy part, him the girl part.) I suggested we go to Glenn's to play SingStar, so Darcy, Glenn and I went to his while Jaime headed home. I get a little too competitive with games and SingStar is no exception. I kicked ass on most of my songs, except for the falsetto ones because Glenn is surprisingly good at falsetto. We had bacon sandwiches and New Zealand fruit vodka that I can't remember the name of and New Zealand candy. (I realise this is admitting to my dietary failures, but it was a special occasion. Yup, it was.) A great, superfun night.
This morning we went for breakfast and bumped into my always-rad friend Kimmie. After a quick chat, Darcy and I tried to go to Nice Cafe for breakfast, but the lineup looked too long (waiting for more than one other group to be seated is too long at that place. The turnover is slooooooow) so we popped up the street to Reno's. The pancake special is such a good deal that we both got it. I sent Darcy off for the day and I'm supposed to be doing homework. I'm just so tired right now (I think I managed about 5 1/2 hours last night; just 5 the night before because I had to go for my last blood test early) and it's probably a better idea to have a nap. Later this afternoon we're going to collect our TanPoh from the airport after her whirlwind European tour. I'm pretty excited to see her; I think it's been almost 2 months!
Have I mentioned that I like H&M a great deal? I do. I want to go there again soon, so if any of you happen to have a car and the will to drive to the outer reaches of the suburbs, I'm in. Also, next Saturday I will have a new oven!
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