Holy frick, I'm sick of snow and/or ice.
Combing through listings, I've come to realise that New Years Eve will likely be a write-off. Too late for things that are affordable, too cheap for things that require me to sell off organs on the black market to afford, I'm struggling to figure out what to do tomorrow. I anticipated falling asleep on my futon around 10pm from a sugar overdose and the consumption of every bit of alcohol in my fridge, but that is probably incredibly lame/pathetic. Still, I think I'll try to get to the booze shop at some point tomorrow, just in case. You never know when you'll need to cradle a bottle of Malibu for comfort.
I don't like the pressure of New Years Eve. It almost never turns out as well as you want it to. The worst one I can recall was when my friend gave me Canucks tickets for Christmas for the New Years Eve game and the weather on New Years Eve day was a whiteout, resulting in me alone at my parents' house drinking eggnog and watching the CBC instead of driving to Vancouver for the game. But, regardless of what happens, every year winds up feeling like variations of the same anyway.
Maybe this is why I don't get many invitations for New Years Eve. I'm such fun.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
holiday roundup
To those people that wished for a White Christmas: hope you're happy. I blame you for this mess.
I'm supposed to be working today, but with the storm drain three feet from my door, all melted snow/water on the west side of the building pouring into said-storm drain and the lower elevation of my door jam, I'm at home watching that my apartment doesn't flood. What a fricking hassle. I know I am being overly cautious, that it will probably be fine and I won't have to do anything to keep the water out. But I just don't want to risk it, especially after the pipe incident. I also don't really have any boots that I can wear in snow and water: it's either one or the other.
My parents left this morning as well, so I can't even enlist them to watch the door for me. They barely got away, even though they have winter tires and a weighted car. Can't imagine how anyone here can get around. When my friend drove me home last week and wouldn't drive down my street, I thought he was being too cautious, but I get it now. I wouldn't want to drive down any of these streets, either.
The holidays were quite nice and less stressful than I worried they might be. It probably also helped that I didn't put much effort into preparations and didn't let my mom work me into a frenzy like she usually does. We decided not to go to mass on Christmas Eve because the roads and sidewalks looked terrible. I fixed my mom two gin & tonics, so she was pretty calm. The family went through half my whisky, two bottles of wine and 5 fingers of a 26er of rum. Actually, I drank a lot on Christmas Eve, too, and answered a lot of questions about why there is so much alcohol in my liquor cupboard. I didn't think there was. We had perogies and pokounsel, which was awesome (I still have some poppy seed ones and cheese perogies in the fridge), and watched "It's a wonderful life" forever. My brother stayed at my sister/bro-in-law's, so it was a lot easier to be in the house with one less person around.
My parents and I wandered down to church in the morning, a later service because we all slept in. It was sort of weird being in a new church and I tried to explain to my dad why I stopped going to church again. My mom doesn't really get that it's offensive to me to be judged by a priest about things that shouldn't be any of the church's business. We went to my sister's for a while, then out to New West to her in-laws' house. Dinner was fantastic: we had brined turkey from a Nigella Lawson recipe and it was one of the best turkeys I've ever tasted. So good! (I wonder if the same can be done to a chicken. Anyone ever brine a chicken before?) I had to drive home and got lectured at the end of the evening by my dad for driving too close to the right side of the lane. I kept saying, "Dad, I never drive and I never drive in snow," and he would say, "Yes, but you shouldn't drive so close to the right." This conversation circled over and over throughout the following day.
Yesterday my mom and I ventured downtown to get a couple of things. She got sale shoes and some books for 30% off; I bought a china place setting (yes, china. That's how I roll) with the bonus rim bowl even though I wasn't supposed to and some ecobags from the Art Gallery that are so awesome. (I finally got a new membership last Tuesday, partly for the discount on gifts from the shop, partly to see the Jeff Wall exhibit before it closes.) We tried to take the bus to my sister's for dinner, but the bus took forever and then wouldn't pick us up, so my dad agreed to drive if I would direct him (I usually do all the driving when my parents visit, which is often fun, but not when the weather is so crap and I haven't driven in snow in 6 years). My sister is kind of clueless because she didn't really get that we would have to pay $2/hr to park at her house; she wanted my parents to stay at her house, which would have been at least $100 for three days. We watched the junior hockey game (holy crap, what a blowout) and then headed home to watch the Canucks/Oilers game. I thought it would have been a good day to try for scalped tickets, but couldn't check under the circumstances. My brother stayed over here as well last night and looked pissed off having to sleep on a foamy after having his own room with a double bed and TV the previous nights.
Wow, it really does sound like a boring holiday, doesn't it?
Now I just need to figure out how to get through New Year's.
I'm supposed to be working today, but with the storm drain three feet from my door, all melted snow/water on the west side of the building pouring into said-storm drain and the lower elevation of my door jam, I'm at home watching that my apartment doesn't flood. What a fricking hassle. I know I am being overly cautious, that it will probably be fine and I won't have to do anything to keep the water out. But I just don't want to risk it, especially after the pipe incident. I also don't really have any boots that I can wear in snow and water: it's either one or the other.
My parents left this morning as well, so I can't even enlist them to watch the door for me. They barely got away, even though they have winter tires and a weighted car. Can't imagine how anyone here can get around. When my friend drove me home last week and wouldn't drive down my street, I thought he was being too cautious, but I get it now. I wouldn't want to drive down any of these streets, either.
The holidays were quite nice and less stressful than I worried they might be. It probably also helped that I didn't put much effort into preparations and didn't let my mom work me into a frenzy like she usually does. We decided not to go to mass on Christmas Eve because the roads and sidewalks looked terrible. I fixed my mom two gin & tonics, so she was pretty calm. The family went through half my whisky, two bottles of wine and 5 fingers of a 26er of rum. Actually, I drank a lot on Christmas Eve, too, and answered a lot of questions about why there is so much alcohol in my liquor cupboard. I didn't think there was. We had perogies and pokounsel, which was awesome (I still have some poppy seed ones and cheese perogies in the fridge), and watched "It's a wonderful life" forever. My brother stayed at my sister/bro-in-law's, so it was a lot easier to be in the house with one less person around.
My parents and I wandered down to church in the morning, a later service because we all slept in. It was sort of weird being in a new church and I tried to explain to my dad why I stopped going to church again. My mom doesn't really get that it's offensive to me to be judged by a priest about things that shouldn't be any of the church's business. We went to my sister's for a while, then out to New West to her in-laws' house. Dinner was fantastic: we had brined turkey from a Nigella Lawson recipe and it was one of the best turkeys I've ever tasted. So good! (I wonder if the same can be done to a chicken. Anyone ever brine a chicken before?) I had to drive home and got lectured at the end of the evening by my dad for driving too close to the right side of the lane. I kept saying, "Dad, I never drive and I never drive in snow," and he would say, "Yes, but you shouldn't drive so close to the right." This conversation circled over and over throughout the following day.
Yesterday my mom and I ventured downtown to get a couple of things. She got sale shoes and some books for 30% off; I bought a china place setting (yes, china. That's how I roll) with the bonus rim bowl even though I wasn't supposed to and some ecobags from the Art Gallery that are so awesome. (I finally got a new membership last Tuesday, partly for the discount on gifts from the shop, partly to see the Jeff Wall exhibit before it closes.) We tried to take the bus to my sister's for dinner, but the bus took forever and then wouldn't pick us up, so my dad agreed to drive if I would direct him (I usually do all the driving when my parents visit, which is often fun, but not when the weather is so crap and I haven't driven in snow in 6 years). My sister is kind of clueless because she didn't really get that we would have to pay $2/hr to park at her house; she wanted my parents to stay at her house, which would have been at least $100 for three days. We watched the junior hockey game (holy crap, what a blowout) and then headed home to watch the Canucks/Oilers game. I thought it would have been a good day to try for scalped tickets, but couldn't check under the circumstances. My brother stayed over here as well last night and looked pissed off having to sleep on a foamy after having his own room with a double bed and TV the previous nights.
Wow, it really does sound like a boring holiday, doesn't it?
Now I just need to figure out how to get through New Year's.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
the time is nigh
It's been an eventful couple of weeks. My body is rebelling against all the booze I've consumed by making me fatter. It's time to break out the party muu muus.
Over the weekend, I went to a couple of parties that were a lot of fun. At one we sang karaoke, ate that cake (oh, the cake!) and mini burgers, broke out the nacho hat (!!!) and cackled at Christmas-themed animatronics (OK, so the videos suggest it was only me cackling; everyone else just laughed). At another I drank enough hot apple cider with rum to make my cheeks rosy and had to nap partway through because it was too much excitement at once. (I am a wild party...) At another I was forcefed spring rolls and sausage rolls and drank gallons worth of gimlets during lively conversation. Great fun!
A note: gin gimlets are significantly more awesome than vodka gimlets. I am pro-gin gimlet. To me, there is no other.
The wall/kitchen is poorly repaired, but there are no gaping holes and things seem to be dry. There is some weird bubbling on the floor near the sink, but I'm pretty sure my landlord doesn't care about that. I'll add it to the list of stuff that would be better off fixed, but that probably never will be.
Monday night I went to the Canucks game with my sister and it turned into a bit of a nailbiter. They were ahead 4-1, but then Anaheim scored two goals (though the one shouldn't have been a goal because it was a high stick) and pulled the goalie during the last minute. The Canucks held on and it was one of the more exciting games I've been to for a long time.
My parents just arrived, so I guess Christmas will unfold. I picked up mixes, so will be able to drink rum & eggnog, beer & clamato, gin & tonic, and vodka straight from the bottle when things get bad. Fun!
Over the weekend, I went to a couple of parties that were a lot of fun. At one we sang karaoke, ate that cake (oh, the cake!) and mini burgers, broke out the nacho hat (!!!) and cackled at Christmas-themed animatronics (OK, so the videos suggest it was only me cackling; everyone else just laughed). At another I drank enough hot apple cider with rum to make my cheeks rosy and had to nap partway through because it was too much excitement at once. (I am a wild party...) At another I was forcefed spring rolls and sausage rolls and drank gallons worth of gimlets during lively conversation. Great fun!
A note: gin gimlets are significantly more awesome than vodka gimlets. I am pro-gin gimlet. To me, there is no other.
The wall/kitchen is poorly repaired, but there are no gaping holes and things seem to be dry. There is some weird bubbling on the floor near the sink, but I'm pretty sure my landlord doesn't care about that. I'll add it to the list of stuff that would be better off fixed, but that probably never will be.
Monday night I went to the Canucks game with my sister and it turned into a bit of a nailbiter. They were ahead 4-1, but then Anaheim scored two goals (though the one shouldn't have been a goal because it was a high stick) and pulled the goalie during the last minute. The Canucks held on and it was one of the more exciting games I've been to for a long time.
My parents just arrived, so I guess Christmas will unfold. I picked up mixes, so will be able to drink rum & eggnog, beer & clamato, gin & tonic, and vodka straight from the bottle when things get bad. Fun!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
santa hates me
The plumber is here now, ripping parts of my kitchen apart to figure out where the water is coming from. Starting from the bottom shelves, they're now up to the countertop to figure out where the problem is. It could be anywhere on the side of the building, in my wall or upstairs or anywhere. Drywall is being smashed. I have kitchenware on my already cluttered table and am ready to empty another shelf to hunt down the elusive burst.
What this means is that, for the second consecutive year, I may ruin Christmas for my family.
The snow is already making my brother nervous, and with another dump predicted for Tuesday/Wednesday, I thought the snow would keep them away. If I tell my mother that half of my kitchen is torn up...
Fuck, I need a drink.
What this means is that, for the second consecutive year, I may ruin Christmas for my family.
The snow is already making my brother nervous, and with another dump predicted for Tuesday/Wednesday, I thought the snow would keep them away. If I tell my mother that half of my kitchen is torn up...
Fuck, I need a drink.
crapping hell
I was all ready to write a cheerful account of recent events that made me feel all festive and nice and stuff. I can no longer do that, though, because this morning has resulted in trouble. All sorts of trouble.
While checking blogs this morning before my morning nap, I heard a weird rush of water in the pipes in the wall in my kitchen. There are often weird noises, so I listened for a couple seconds, checked the kitchen shelves for water, and went back to the computer. The water sound didn't stop, so a few minutes later I went back into the kitchen (the lights were all off) and stepped in water. Lots and lots of water. Panic ensued.
I called my landlord in a frenzy, who told me to go to the laundry room to turn off the water main for the building, and I rushed out to do that. Knocks on doors in the building went unanswered, so I came back to the apartment and called him again. He said he'd send someone over right away and would get someone to fix it. His daughter came over to survey the damage (just a couple inches, probably about 5 or 6 litres of slightly discoloured water), who told me to turn my heat on (it was on) and asked if she could help me mop up the water. Since I'd just used every towel I own, it was under control. When my landlord came over and realised I wasn't crazy when I said the water came from under the baseboards, he immediately went next door to talk to the girl in the adjacent suite. No idea what became of that.
Essentially, I've got no water, no idea what's going on or if I have to stay here, if the walls have to be torn out to fix the pipes, and I've got a day full of stuff to do. The Christmas shopping I planned to do this morning is out of the questions, the cookie party is up in the air, and I'm just hoping I can go to the solstice party I was invited to tonight so I can drink my troubles away while boys I know yell at the moon at midnight. Sigh.
I will tell you that the chocolate bourbon cake I made for yesterday's party was a hit. I was actually incredulous when someone cut a small sliver of it, took a bite, and said, "Wow, this cake is amazing!" I expected it to be dry because the top was cracked by the time I took it out of the oven, the knife easily coming out clean when tested. After that initial comment I just thought he was being nice, until another person quickly tried it and moaned. My friend took a bite, looked at me with an almost shocked look on his face and exclaimed, "It's so good! Honestly! It's so moist and..." shoving another bite into his mouth. I had a small piece and was greeted with the most chocolaty yet boozy bite of cake I can recall in recent memory. I was impressed with myself. So amazing. We ate a lot of it, only a small quarter left over. My friends promised to bring it tonight if they don't eat it today. I'll be surprised to see it later. I will make it again. Oh yes, I will.
More soon.
While checking blogs this morning before my morning nap, I heard a weird rush of water in the pipes in the wall in my kitchen. There are often weird noises, so I listened for a couple seconds, checked the kitchen shelves for water, and went back to the computer. The water sound didn't stop, so a few minutes later I went back into the kitchen (the lights were all off) and stepped in water. Lots and lots of water. Panic ensued.
I called my landlord in a frenzy, who told me to go to the laundry room to turn off the water main for the building, and I rushed out to do that. Knocks on doors in the building went unanswered, so I came back to the apartment and called him again. He said he'd send someone over right away and would get someone to fix it. His daughter came over to survey the damage (just a couple inches, probably about 5 or 6 litres of slightly discoloured water), who told me to turn my heat on (it was on) and asked if she could help me mop up the water. Since I'd just used every towel I own, it was under control. When my landlord came over and realised I wasn't crazy when I said the water came from under the baseboards, he immediately went next door to talk to the girl in the adjacent suite. No idea what became of that.
Essentially, I've got no water, no idea what's going on or if I have to stay here, if the walls have to be torn out to fix the pipes, and I've got a day full of stuff to do. The Christmas shopping I planned to do this morning is out of the questions, the cookie party is up in the air, and I'm just hoping I can go to the solstice party I was invited to tonight so I can drink my troubles away while boys I know yell at the moon at midnight. Sigh.
I will tell you that the chocolate bourbon cake I made for yesterday's party was a hit. I was actually incredulous when someone cut a small sliver of it, took a bite, and said, "Wow, this cake is amazing!" I expected it to be dry because the top was cracked by the time I took it out of the oven, the knife easily coming out clean when tested. After that initial comment I just thought he was being nice, until another person quickly tried it and moaned. My friend took a bite, looked at me with an almost shocked look on his face and exclaimed, "It's so good! Honestly! It's so moist and..." shoving another bite into his mouth. I had a small piece and was greeted with the most chocolaty yet boozy bite of cake I can recall in recent memory. I was impressed with myself. So amazing. We ate a lot of it, only a small quarter left over. My friends promised to bring it tonight if they don't eat it today. I'll be surprised to see it later. I will make it again. Oh yes, I will.
More soon.
Friday, December 19, 2008
the ongoing quest (for butter, unsalted)
Down to the final stretch.
I bought some bourbon yesterday for the chocolate bourbon cake I promised to take to a party tomorrow, so today I'll have to get down to business and bake it. I find it slightly strange that I've had a bundt cake pan almost since graduating from high school, yet have never owned a car. At the liquor store I asked the guy if they sell any bourbons (other than Jack Daniels, which is not a bourbon) in bottles smaller than 750ml. He thought no and asked if I was going to cook with it or something. I guess I don't look the type to drink bourbon. We had a short, confusing discussion about the difference between Tennessee sour mash and bourbon; I totally forgot all this from my indexing assignment on whisk(e)y last year. If this recipe turns out I guess I'll be able to make another two cakes with the remaining bourbon. Or one visit from a drunk.
On Sunday I'm going to my friends' house for cookies and Christmas cheer (possibly in a drink format), and recall saying I'd bring some cookies. I've been doing that a lot lately, volunteering to bring baking to places. (Mental note: stop doing that before loading up on more butter.) Rather than bake the standard chocolate chip cookies I've perfected (like, seriously, I make a kickass chocolate chip cookie) or the molasses ginger cookies I promised to bake for my parents' visit (and have yet to bake), I decided to try a new recipe. We'll see how it goes, but don't bacon cookies sound bewitching? If you've ever put syrup on your bacon, I'm pretty sure you're intrigued by the suggestion. I'll let you know how they are.
Last night after work I met up with my friends to see a documentary on a couple of tribute artists and the ups and downs of "living the dream." He did Neil Diamond, his wife did a lot of Patsy Cline; together, they went by Lightning & Thunder. They went through some stuff over the 17 years together, the highlight playing with Eddie Vedder when he was still a skinny but famous kid. It was hard to hear people calling them Lightning and Thunder as though those were their given names. It was funny and sad at the same time, and I got a bit teary-eyed at the end. Thankfully the other two didn't mock me.
Off for a nap (I hate that my body is timed to wake up around 6:30/7, regardless) before a big day surrounded by baking supplies. I also have to go downtown to sign the final paperwork to start work at SFU in January and head to Canadian Tire to find sheeting to seal my crappy windows. Good times!
I bought some bourbon yesterday for the chocolate bourbon cake I promised to take to a party tomorrow, so today I'll have to get down to business and bake it. I find it slightly strange that I've had a bundt cake pan almost since graduating from high school, yet have never owned a car. At the liquor store I asked the guy if they sell any bourbons (other than Jack Daniels, which is not a bourbon) in bottles smaller than 750ml. He thought no and asked if I was going to cook with it or something. I guess I don't look the type to drink bourbon. We had a short, confusing discussion about the difference between Tennessee sour mash and bourbon; I totally forgot all this from my indexing assignment on whisk(e)y last year. If this recipe turns out I guess I'll be able to make another two cakes with the remaining bourbon. Or one visit from a drunk.
On Sunday I'm going to my friends' house for cookies and Christmas cheer (possibly in a drink format), and recall saying I'd bring some cookies. I've been doing that a lot lately, volunteering to bring baking to places. (Mental note: stop doing that before loading up on more butter.) Rather than bake the standard chocolate chip cookies I've perfected (like, seriously, I make a kickass chocolate chip cookie) or the molasses ginger cookies I promised to bake for my parents' visit (and have yet to bake), I decided to try a new recipe. We'll see how it goes, but don't bacon cookies sound bewitching? If you've ever put syrup on your bacon, I'm pretty sure you're intrigued by the suggestion. I'll let you know how they are.
Last night after work I met up with my friends to see a documentary on a couple of tribute artists and the ups and downs of "living the dream." He did Neil Diamond, his wife did a lot of Patsy Cline; together, they went by Lightning & Thunder. They went through some stuff over the 17 years together, the highlight playing with Eddie Vedder when he was still a skinny but famous kid. It was hard to hear people calling them Lightning and Thunder as though those were their given names. It was funny and sad at the same time, and I got a bit teary-eyed at the end. Thankfully the other two didn't mock me.
Off for a nap (I hate that my body is timed to wake up around 6:30/7, regardless) before a big day surrounded by baking supplies. I also have to go downtown to sign the final paperwork to start work at SFU in January and head to Canadian Tire to find sheeting to seal my crappy windows. Good times!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
sniffle cough
What day is it again? I've lost track. I've been confined to my house the last couple of days, let out only to gather supplies and make other people fear for their health.
The chest cold... I fricking hate being sick, but I hate not getting paid way more. It was heartbreaking to call in sick the last two days, counting in my head how much more money I need in my account so my bills and rent cheque don't bounce. I can't help but think in terms of money, how much I'm losing out on by staying at home watching terrible daytime television (except for the Bonnie Hunt Show. Gosh, I LOVE her; she's so hilarious and wholesome. When she had that sitcom about her raising a family and hosting a morning talk show I always hoped she would actually have her own talk show because it was always hilarious. And now... Wishful thinking works sometimes! Now I just need wishful thinking to find a boy who doesn't suck... This has proven far more difficult). It's nearly out of my chest (I think. Again, that wishful thinking) and I should have just the residual croaky voice tomorrow and the occasional coughing fit. Better that than being trapped in my bed under the duvet, too weak to roll out and crawl for water. Tomorrow is the last day of work that I can get paid for this month. I need it.
At some point I have to start prepping for the holidays. With the impending arrival of my family in a week, the house needs some tidying/cleaning so I don't get lectured the whole visit about how I've failed my parents by not taking better care of my home. I also promised my mom I'd bake some cookies, which wouldn't necessarily be bad, but I need to get more butter and time to actually go on a baking spree. Maybe Sunday.
I'm not happy about the snowfall of today. I've yet to get winter boots to protect my delicate feet from the elements. I am much less nice when my feet are cold and wet. I know people always like to have a white Christmas, but having lived through my share of white Christmases... I'm not a fan, especially when Christmas depends on loved ones travelling mountain routes. I've had enough holidays ruined by closed highways and snow slides.
On the upside, my sister called yesterday to see if I want to go to the Canucks game on Monday night. Very excited! It's not the Oilers, but those tickets are not often up for grabs. I can always wish.
The chest cold... I fricking hate being sick, but I hate not getting paid way more. It was heartbreaking to call in sick the last two days, counting in my head how much more money I need in my account so my bills and rent cheque don't bounce. I can't help but think in terms of money, how much I'm losing out on by staying at home watching terrible daytime television (except for the Bonnie Hunt Show. Gosh, I LOVE her; she's so hilarious and wholesome. When she had that sitcom about her raising a family and hosting a morning talk show I always hoped she would actually have her own talk show because it was always hilarious. And now... Wishful thinking works sometimes! Now I just need wishful thinking to find a boy who doesn't suck... This has proven far more difficult). It's nearly out of my chest (I think. Again, that wishful thinking) and I should have just the residual croaky voice tomorrow and the occasional coughing fit. Better that than being trapped in my bed under the duvet, too weak to roll out and crawl for water. Tomorrow is the last day of work that I can get paid for this month. I need it.
At some point I have to start prepping for the holidays. With the impending arrival of my family in a week, the house needs some tidying/cleaning so I don't get lectured the whole visit about how I've failed my parents by not taking better care of my home. I also promised my mom I'd bake some cookies, which wouldn't necessarily be bad, but I need to get more butter and time to actually go on a baking spree. Maybe Sunday.
I'm not happy about the snowfall of today. I've yet to get winter boots to protect my delicate feet from the elements. I am much less nice when my feet are cold and wet. I know people always like to have a white Christmas, but having lived through my share of white Christmases... I'm not a fan, especially when Christmas depends on loved ones travelling mountain routes. I've had enough holidays ruined by closed highways and snow slides.
On the upside, my sister called yesterday to see if I want to go to the Canucks game on Monday night. Very excited! It's not the Oilers, but those tickets are not often up for grabs. I can always wish.
Monday, December 15, 2008
bitch, on being a
I'm not as forgiving as I probably should be at this time of the year. Some people decide that this is the time of the year to make amends and talk to the people they've avoided for months for no apparent reason. Not me, though. No, I like to remain the enormous bitch I always am.
OK, I don't really think I'm enormous bitch. I just realise I have a low tolerance for bullshit and sometimes don't believe the excuses people tell me for ditching out of plans. I do a lot of eyerolling in these instances.
I have a question: do all guys think "I've seen that girl naked" whenever they see a girl they've seen naked? Because I'm watching "How I met your mother" and all I can think about is that I've seen Jason Segel's wiener. These thoughts don't normally occur to me when I see other boys I've seen naked. I wonder why...
At what point does sarcastic honesty become passive-aggression? Are they one in the same? I may have left a sarcastically honest message on an answering service and it could be construed as passive-aggressive. This worries me a little because I'm supposed to stop being passive-aggressive. And I wasn't trying to be snarky; just partway through the message I realised I might be a little angrier about the situation than I initially thought. Sigh. I am my own worst enemy.
I no longer wish I could strangle people like I used to, so that's a positive, right?
This coughing thing sucks. I hate chest colds.
OK, I don't really think I'm enormous bitch. I just realise I have a low tolerance for bullshit and sometimes don't believe the excuses people tell me for ditching out of plans. I do a lot of eyerolling in these instances.
I have a question: do all guys think "I've seen that girl naked" whenever they see a girl they've seen naked? Because I'm watching "How I met your mother" and all I can think about is that I've seen Jason Segel's wiener. These thoughts don't normally occur to me when I see other boys I've seen naked. I wonder why...
At what point does sarcastic honesty become passive-aggression? Are they one in the same? I may have left a sarcastically honest message on an answering service and it could be construed as passive-aggressive. This worries me a little because I'm supposed to stop being passive-aggressive. And I wasn't trying to be snarky; just partway through the message I realised I might be a little angrier about the situation than I initially thought. Sigh. I am my own worst enemy.
I no longer wish I could strangle people like I used to, so that's a positive, right?
This coughing thing sucks. I hate chest colds.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
The snow last night was kind of a treat, but the temperature accompanying it leaves something to be desired.
Yesterday I met up with a couple of friends for cake in early afternoon. It was so hard to get through all that cheesecake, but, thanks to a wee little glitch with my gift card not working, I'll probably get the chance again when they assign me a new one. More cake. Life is hard. I decided to dress up for the occasion, choosing the brightest outfit I have: bright pink shoes, bright green tights, a black shirt, a bright pink tank top poking out of a bright green shirt, and a Monet-esque flowery cardi from my mom's 1966 wardrobe. (My mom used to have some extremely well made, attractively designed sweater suits and dresses. Her old Burberry swing coat is my most coveted clothing item.) People don't take kindly to bright colours, or so I would assume based on the looks I got with my legs/feet poking out under my black coat. I did have a couple of people look at my legs and smile, and that's exactly how I felt every time I looked down at my legs.
Last evening TP had people over to her home and it was really nice to see a few friends that I don't get to see nearly enough. I also drank a decent amount of rum & eggnog, enough to make my face warm. With "Christmas with the Platters" playing, the Christmasy drink in my hand, shortbread near at hand and the snow starting to fall, it was the first time it's felt like Christmas is coming. Not that Christmas is ever particularly exciting... Jill and Mark gave me a ride home, thankfully, as buses were challenged by the snow and I'm pretty sure I would have had to walk home in Chuck Taylors without them. I negotiated a trade: a ride for the artificial tree I haven't put up since 1997. A good deal.
I had intentions to go to bed when I got home, but I was still a little wired from all the sugar. My friend messaged me and we decided to meet up for a late night walk around our neighbourhood in the snow. We met halfway and walked around the park near my house before he dropped me at my door. It was so quiet and bright and fricking cold; we were excited to walk around before the snow got ugly and compromised.
This morning I went to Metrotown to see if I could do some Christmas shopping, but ended up looking for clothes for work. Sales are sort of crazy right now and I've been freezing in the clothes I've got. I was not very successful because I got tired of being in the mall, but realised that not many people are aware that the malls have earlier hours on Sundays. Next week they're open until 11pm. Malls are insane places; they still frighten me.
Just woke up from a 3-hour nap to try to combat the sore throat collected into my cilia sometime in the last 4 days. I'm going through cough candies so fast I fear I'll run out faster than I can get somewhere to buy more. Not that I actually want to leave my house anymore today. It's a dilemma.
Yesterday I met up with a couple of friends for cake in early afternoon. It was so hard to get through all that cheesecake, but, thanks to a wee little glitch with my gift card not working, I'll probably get the chance again when they assign me a new one. More cake. Life is hard. I decided to dress up for the occasion, choosing the brightest outfit I have: bright pink shoes, bright green tights, a black shirt, a bright pink tank top poking out of a bright green shirt, and a Monet-esque flowery cardi from my mom's 1966 wardrobe. (My mom used to have some extremely well made, attractively designed sweater suits and dresses. Her old Burberry swing coat is my most coveted clothing item.) People don't take kindly to bright colours, or so I would assume based on the looks I got with my legs/feet poking out under my black coat. I did have a couple of people look at my legs and smile, and that's exactly how I felt every time I looked down at my legs.
Last evening TP had people over to her home and it was really nice to see a few friends that I don't get to see nearly enough. I also drank a decent amount of rum & eggnog, enough to make my face warm. With "Christmas with the Platters" playing, the Christmasy drink in my hand, shortbread near at hand and the snow starting to fall, it was the first time it's felt like Christmas is coming. Not that Christmas is ever particularly exciting... Jill and Mark gave me a ride home, thankfully, as buses were challenged by the snow and I'm pretty sure I would have had to walk home in Chuck Taylors without them. I negotiated a trade: a ride for the artificial tree I haven't put up since 1997. A good deal.
I had intentions to go to bed when I got home, but I was still a little wired from all the sugar. My friend messaged me and we decided to meet up for a late night walk around our neighbourhood in the snow. We met halfway and walked around the park near my house before he dropped me at my door. It was so quiet and bright and fricking cold; we were excited to walk around before the snow got ugly and compromised.
This morning I went to Metrotown to see if I could do some Christmas shopping, but ended up looking for clothes for work. Sales are sort of crazy right now and I've been freezing in the clothes I've got. I was not very successful because I got tired of being in the mall, but realised that not many people are aware that the malls have earlier hours on Sundays. Next week they're open until 11pm. Malls are insane places; they still frighten me.
Just woke up from a 3-hour nap to try to combat the sore throat collected into my cilia sometime in the last 4 days. I'm going through cough candies so fast I fear I'll run out faster than I can get somewhere to buy more. Not that I actually want to leave my house anymore today. It's a dilemma.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
one more stitch
For the longest time, I banned myself from Dressew, mainly because I would buy metres and metres of fabric or trim every time I went there, regardless of whether or not I needed it. I have a natural compulsion to collect sewing supplies for a rainy day. It's been a lifelong issue.
Twice this week I went to Dressew. The first day was to buy some materials for small seasonal gifts for friends. This was a necessity because my pre-existing debts don't go away during the holidays (and suck up a significant portion of my paychecks) and I still wanted to have a little something for people I like. This wasn't troubling. The second day... the second day was troubling. The second day I had to buy some batting for my projects, but was distracted by a new shipment of retro fabrics. Suddenly I had 3 metres of geometric prints in my hand. I thought I could make some shopping bags out of them, which meant I should also get some webbing for the handles. So... What should have been a relatively cheap pop-in wound up being quite a bit more.
I would have buyers' remorse if it were anything other than fabric.
This morning I finished the first round of projects and they worked out pretty well. The second round of projects will likely require a printer, so I'll have to wait for that to happen. I'm slightly concerned that people who receive these things will feel ripped off, considering they cost virtually nothing to make, but I suppose if someone felt like that I probably shouldn't have given them anything anyway. I can tell you about the one thing that I made that I actually love the most: a stuffed Totoro, complete with leaf on his head. It's pretty cute. Not sure if I can give that away just yet.
Yesterday after Dressew, I met my school chums for drinks in the early afternoon while one pretended to Christmas shop. We started at the Lennox, which, I have to say, is one of the least impressive establishments downtown. Super expensive and the waitstaff are wholly disinterested in you unless you order food and shots of premium liquor, especially in the afternoon. We left after a drink and went to a deserted Morrissey and spent the next few hours there. I had to meet work friends for drinks after they finished work, so made my way to the Cascade. I was probably too tipsy at 6pm to be sociable, so sat back with a pint and scarfed down polenta fries while trying to keep up with what everyone was talking about. I bowed out after a couple of hours, blaming my tipsy head and 6 hours of drinking, and came home to catch up with a long distance friend. (I currently do not have Skype, but would really like to get it set up. Can anyone locally assist me with this?)
Unrelated, my friend started sniffing/huffing my hair while we visited a few days ago. I mention this only because it's the second person in two weeks that commented about how good my hair smells. I use cheap drugstore shampoo and that's it (no conditioner in the winter; it makes my hair gross midway through the day I washed it if I do), so it surprised me. All those years of spending so much on hair products and I rarely had comments about how my hair smelled. So weird.
Twice this week I went to Dressew. The first day was to buy some materials for small seasonal gifts for friends. This was a necessity because my pre-existing debts don't go away during the holidays (and suck up a significant portion of my paychecks) and I still wanted to have a little something for people I like. This wasn't troubling. The second day... the second day was troubling. The second day I had to buy some batting for my projects, but was distracted by a new shipment of retro fabrics. Suddenly I had 3 metres of geometric prints in my hand. I thought I could make some shopping bags out of them, which meant I should also get some webbing for the handles. So... What should have been a relatively cheap pop-in wound up being quite a bit more.
I would have buyers' remorse if it were anything other than fabric.
This morning I finished the first round of projects and they worked out pretty well. The second round of projects will likely require a printer, so I'll have to wait for that to happen. I'm slightly concerned that people who receive these things will feel ripped off, considering they cost virtually nothing to make, but I suppose if someone felt like that I probably shouldn't have given them anything anyway. I can tell you about the one thing that I made that I actually love the most: a stuffed Totoro, complete with leaf on his head. It's pretty cute. Not sure if I can give that away just yet.
Yesterday after Dressew, I met my school chums for drinks in the early afternoon while one pretended to Christmas shop. We started at the Lennox, which, I have to say, is one of the least impressive establishments downtown. Super expensive and the waitstaff are wholly disinterested in you unless you order food and shots of premium liquor, especially in the afternoon. We left after a drink and went to a deserted Morrissey and spent the next few hours there. I had to meet work friends for drinks after they finished work, so made my way to the Cascade. I was probably too tipsy at 6pm to be sociable, so sat back with a pint and scarfed down polenta fries while trying to keep up with what everyone was talking about. I bowed out after a couple of hours, blaming my tipsy head and 6 hours of drinking, and came home to catch up with a long distance friend. (I currently do not have Skype, but would really like to get it set up. Can anyone locally assist me with this?)
Unrelated, my friend started sniffing/huffing my hair while we visited a few days ago. I mention this only because it's the second person in two weeks that commented about how good my hair smells. I use cheap drugstore shampoo and that's it (no conditioner in the winter; it makes my hair gross midway through the day I washed it if I do), so it surprised me. All those years of spending so much on hair products and I rarely had comments about how my hair smelled. So weird.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
and almost immediately i felt sorry
My friend gave me an old Avon book as a joke earlier this year and I've only really just rediscovered it and started reading it. At least I hope it was a joke. Written by one Gwenna Packard in 1963, "How come a nice girl like you isn't married?" is touted as "the single girl's guide to sex, men and marriage." So far it's been surprisingly non-judgemental about premarital sex and encourages girls to get on with their lives if the men they encounter are unwilling to commit. I'm not sure if I should be reading this right now. It's upsetting to discover things haven't changed since 1963.
It doesn't help that Liz Phair's "Fuck & run" has been playing in my head all day.
I'm giving up on dating. All my partnered friends will have to find another source of amusement instead of stories about the silly boys I endure. I'm just going to concentrate on work (as usual) and saving enough money to live the rest of my life alone. Or at least enough to get me to Mongolia, only to hook up with a nomadic tribe who finds my pasty white skin amusing but who quickly grow tired of me because I don't have any dating stories to tell them, and they desert me in the frozen tundra to freeze to death or be eaten alive by wolves.
It doesn't help that Liz Phair's "Fuck & run" has been playing in my head all day.
I'm giving up on dating. All my partnered friends will have to find another source of amusement instead of stories about the silly boys I endure. I'm just going to concentrate on work (as usual) and saving enough money to live the rest of my life alone. Or at least enough to get me to Mongolia, only to hook up with a nomadic tribe who finds my pasty white skin amusing but who quickly grow tired of me because I don't have any dating stories to tell them, and they desert me in the frozen tundra to freeze to death or be eaten alive by wolves.
missing the ice
Just home from a fun night out. Work at Langara was pretty low-key, what with it being final exam season. I counted the minutes to 6 so I could hightail it eastside for the hockey game.
I scurried from the bus to the Coliseum because the fricking #3 was so late and SO SLOW to get to Main & Hastings. There was a diversion on Hastings, an outdoor concert to support inSite. I couldn't tell, but thought it sounded kind of like Black Mountain, which is possible and likely since most of them work in the DTES. I was set on getting to the hockey game in time to throw a bear onto the ice for charity, and got in the door just after the Giants scored their first goal. My throw was dreadful; I felt rushed and threw randomly into the crowd, getting nowhere close to the ice. Sigh. I drowned my sorrow in beer. We headed to the Dark Horse Lounge at the neighbouring casino after the game (5-1 Vancouver, one short of free appetizers at White Spot), but wanted food and the kitchen was empty after the de la Hoya fight. We downed our highballs and hiked to Hastings and Boundary for karaoke at Oscar's.
Funny thing about Oscar's... I looked over and thought, gee, that looks like my friend Jason. I sent a text and then decided it was probably him. I went over and he and Debbie were there with a couple of friends, drinking! So weird, so random. Was nice to see them, though. My friends sang a couple of karaoke tunes and we drank a number of pints of beer. It was pretty fun. I am tempted to go there again on Monday for $0.29 wings and pitchers of beer. Just need to find a drinking partner.
Tomorrow I really want to eat pancakes. I just have to decide if I want to make them (apple pancakes!) or if I should just wander up the street and see if I can get in for pancakes anywhere. I'm also returning the crappy space heater I bought that doesn't work, right out of the box, and might see about popping into Solly's for bagels and/or knishes and/or rugelah. I also have to make chicken pot pie; I'm excited about that.
"I Jizz In My Pants" will be the next "Lazy Sunday." Frick, it's funny.
I scurried from the bus to the Coliseum because the fricking #3 was so late and SO SLOW to get to Main & Hastings. There was a diversion on Hastings, an outdoor concert to support inSite. I couldn't tell, but thought it sounded kind of like Black Mountain, which is possible and likely since most of them work in the DTES. I was set on getting to the hockey game in time to throw a bear onto the ice for charity, and got in the door just after the Giants scored their first goal. My throw was dreadful; I felt rushed and threw randomly into the crowd, getting nowhere close to the ice. Sigh. I drowned my sorrow in beer. We headed to the Dark Horse Lounge at the neighbouring casino after the game (5-1 Vancouver, one short of free appetizers at White Spot), but wanted food and the kitchen was empty after the de la Hoya fight. We downed our highballs and hiked to Hastings and Boundary for karaoke at Oscar's.
Funny thing about Oscar's... I looked over and thought, gee, that looks like my friend Jason. I sent a text and then decided it was probably him. I went over and he and Debbie were there with a couple of friends, drinking! So weird, so random. Was nice to see them, though. My friends sang a couple of karaoke tunes and we drank a number of pints of beer. It was pretty fun. I am tempted to go there again on Monday for $0.29 wings and pitchers of beer. Just need to find a drinking partner.
Tomorrow I really want to eat pancakes. I just have to decide if I want to make them (apple pancakes!) or if I should just wander up the street and see if I can get in for pancakes anywhere. I'm also returning the crappy space heater I bought that doesn't work, right out of the box, and might see about popping into Solly's for bagels and/or knishes and/or rugelah. I also have to make chicken pot pie; I'm excited about that.
"I Jizz In My Pants" will be the next "Lazy Sunday." Frick, it's funny.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
party (hard)
Tonight I went to Nardwuar Nite at the Ukrainian Cultural Centre in Strathcona, specifically because my friend Polly gave me a heads-up about the surprise guest.
Bands played. I've seen all of them before: Thee Goblins, Kellarissa, Lois, The Pack A.D. and The Evaporators. They were all fun to watch, but I was anticipating the extras.
I was excited to see Andrew WK and he played three of his own songs, then played a Leather Uppers cover (that will be on a split single with the Evaporators next year). Apparently he's a fan. Then Wimpy Roy from the Subhumans came out to sing and to promote the re-recording of Incorrect Thoughts. Then Randy Rampage from DOA came out with his flowing blond hair that made me think about a pro wrestler from the '80s who had an orange tan. Then Jon Card from SNFU/DOA/Subhumans came out and banged on the drums. Then they all punked out with "Fuck You."
It's hard to believe it's been 30 years since the Vancouver punk scene really started.
My ears are totally ringing and I'm pretty sure the damage is permanent. There were a bunch of little kids at the show and I think I should probably get construction earmasks so I don't get any deafer. Being deaf sucks.
Bands played. I've seen all of them before: Thee Goblins, Kellarissa, Lois, The Pack A.D. and The Evaporators. They were all fun to watch, but I was anticipating the extras.
I was excited to see Andrew WK and he played three of his own songs, then played a Leather Uppers cover (that will be on a split single with the Evaporators next year). Apparently he's a fan. Then Wimpy Roy from the Subhumans came out to sing and to promote the re-recording of Incorrect Thoughts. Then Randy Rampage from DOA came out with his flowing blond hair that made me think about a pro wrestler from the '80s who had an orange tan. Then Jon Card from SNFU/DOA/Subhumans came out and banged on the drums. Then they all punked out with "Fuck You."
It's hard to believe it's been 30 years since the Vancouver punk scene really started.
My ears are totally ringing and I'm pretty sure the damage is permanent. There were a bunch of little kids at the show and I think I should probably get construction earmasks so I don't get any deafer. Being deaf sucks.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
making things work
This time off is making me rethink work. I kind of like lazing around the house in the morning, making an actual breakfast and planning stuff to do during the day. I could get used to it. Just another week of this and I'll be freaking out about paying the rent and affording Christmas. But I am enjoying the paychecks every week; VPL and Langara alternate.
Today I went to Zulu to see TP's art show and randomly ran into her, a nice surprise. Then I headed downtown to try to buy a couple of Christmasy things, but my heart wasn't really into it (and the monkey lunch bag was sold out). I got two of my three newish pairs of glasses fitted and picked up my holds at the library. I've been going through recipes lately, feeling like cooking more would probably make my house feel warmer, and bought groceries for the next week or so. Nothing special, really, but it was nice to not have to do anything or be anywhere for a change.
For dinner I made polenta with fontina and thyme, parsley-crusted sole and a salad. I really like the polenta, which is lucky since there's so much left. With the fontina and parmesan it's got a nice saltiness and the gloppy texture was actually kind of comforting. The recipe I used was from an epicurious listing, but I've got another that I want to try from the Provence people that looks even more luxurious. I've got a ham, fontina and spinach bread pudding on the slate for tomorrow (I love savoury bread pudding), chicken pot pie on the weekend (time to use some of the homemade dough in the freezer), risotto in kind, bacon cookies (yes, bacon!), and apple pancakes whenever I get up early enough and figure out how to halve the recipe accurately. I'm feeling inspired to make stuff.
The friends I go to the Whip with are very talented with the crafting, cooking and hunting & gathering. They're the sort that produce excellent gifts that are well-received by everyone. They make their own beer. I am jealous of them because I'm not sure I have the skills to make gifts that everyone wants, but I really need to figure out how to make attractive things, and fast. I wish I had sewing projects that I could whip out that are gender appropriate and coveted by receivers. Or things to bake. I had thought about doing a bunch of kirie, but the image hunt is proving time consuming. Frames are my nemesis; I'm not sure I can actually afford them.
Frick, I'm just rinsing these things out, yet still say nothing.
Tomorrow I'm hoping to finally get over to the shops on Cambie in the morning, then meet up with David Boffa for an afternoon hangout, and head off to Nardwuar's pre-Christmas rock show. Apparently Andrew WK is going to be there, so I'm kind of jazzed to see him. I'm kind of glad it's an all-ages thing. It takes away the pressure to drink. There are also a couple of craft sales this weekend that I want to try to get to, namely the one at Western Front tomorrow night and the one at the Grandview Legion on Sunday. We'll see if I can still make concrete plans in my current state.
Today I went to Zulu to see TP's art show and randomly ran into her, a nice surprise. Then I headed downtown to try to buy a couple of Christmasy things, but my heart wasn't really into it (and the monkey lunch bag was sold out). I got two of my three newish pairs of glasses fitted and picked up my holds at the library. I've been going through recipes lately, feeling like cooking more would probably make my house feel warmer, and bought groceries for the next week or so. Nothing special, really, but it was nice to not have to do anything or be anywhere for a change.
For dinner I made polenta with fontina and thyme, parsley-crusted sole and a salad. I really like the polenta, which is lucky since there's so much left. With the fontina and parmesan it's got a nice saltiness and the gloppy texture was actually kind of comforting. The recipe I used was from an epicurious listing, but I've got another that I want to try from the Provence people that looks even more luxurious. I've got a ham, fontina and spinach bread pudding on the slate for tomorrow (I love savoury bread pudding), chicken pot pie on the weekend (time to use some of the homemade dough in the freezer), risotto in kind, bacon cookies (yes, bacon!), and apple pancakes whenever I get up early enough and figure out how to halve the recipe accurately. I'm feeling inspired to make stuff.
The friends I go to the Whip with are very talented with the crafting, cooking and hunting & gathering. They're the sort that produce excellent gifts that are well-received by everyone. They make their own beer. I am jealous of them because I'm not sure I have the skills to make gifts that everyone wants, but I really need to figure out how to make attractive things, and fast. I wish I had sewing projects that I could whip out that are gender appropriate and coveted by receivers. Or things to bake. I had thought about doing a bunch of kirie, but the image hunt is proving time consuming. Frames are my nemesis; I'm not sure I can actually afford them.
Frick, I'm just rinsing these things out, yet still say nothing.
Tomorrow I'm hoping to finally get over to the shops on Cambie in the morning, then meet up with David Boffa for an afternoon hangout, and head off to Nardwuar's pre-Christmas rock show. Apparently Andrew WK is going to be there, so I'm kind of jazzed to see him. I'm kind of glad it's an all-ages thing. It takes away the pressure to drink. There are also a couple of craft sales this weekend that I want to try to get to, namely the one at Western Front tomorrow night and the one at the Grandview Legion on Sunday. We'll see if I can still make concrete plans in my current state.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
priorities
During this time of year, I tend to visit the store of liquor more frequently than normal people. Weekly visits allow me to keep abreast of new additions to the plethora of booze, and special edition booze generally starts to trickle through the door mid-November. Once December hits...
Today I stopped in to get a teddy bear from the BCLC shop for the Teddy Bear Toss at the Giants' game on Saturday. I felt weird just buying a teddy bear (I chose the booze store because they donate a second bear to a charity whenever you buy a bear), so perused the beer section. I like to look at big bottles because it's a good way to sample flavoured and new beers (blackberry porter or peach cream ale, anyone?) and today I stumbled upon this:
Take a good look. Beer aged in oak rum barrels! I'm pretty excited about trying it out, which will have to be soon since there were only 150 bottles produced. It is slightly costly for the volume you get ($4.95 for 330ml), but it's 7.4% and was aged in a rum cask. Maybe it's all a ploy, but I won't know until I try it. Doesn't that just sound good?
But, really, this is the tip of the iceberg. I had to leave the store before getting distracted by the hard liquor. They always add those little extras: a shot of a related booze, shot glasses, highball tumblers, flashlights... It seems like such a good idea to buy them when you get that little bonus, but then you find yourself buying Malibu or Mint Baileys just for the extras. I'm going to try not to fall prey to the extras. I don't really need Malibu.
But I would like to be outdoors for certain things this winter that would be better enjoyed by a shot of booze to warm my innards. The train at Stanley Park... What I really want to do is sharpen my skates and take to the ice. If only it were cold enough to skate on an outdoor rink. It's one thing I miss desperately about Edmonton: the outdoor rink down the street from my grandparents' old house on a sunny afternoon. When it got cold enough for the lake to freeze, we spent the whole Christmas vacation skating on the lake in Osoyoos. My oldest friend's dad used to flood their driveway and we'd skate almost every night for weeks at a time, until the weather warmed.
Wouldn't all that be fun now with a shot of butter ripple schnapps?
Today I stopped in to get a teddy bear from the BCLC shop for the Teddy Bear Toss at the Giants' game on Saturday. I felt weird just buying a teddy bear (I chose the booze store because they donate a second bear to a charity whenever you buy a bear), so perused the beer section. I like to look at big bottles because it's a good way to sample flavoured and new beers (blackberry porter or peach cream ale, anyone?) and today I stumbled upon this:
Take a good look. Beer aged in oak rum barrels! I'm pretty excited about trying it out, which will have to be soon since there were only 150 bottles produced. It is slightly costly for the volume you get ($4.95 for 330ml), but it's 7.4% and was aged in a rum cask. Maybe it's all a ploy, but I won't know until I try it. Doesn't that just sound good?But, really, this is the tip of the iceberg. I had to leave the store before getting distracted by the hard liquor. They always add those little extras: a shot of a related booze, shot glasses, highball tumblers, flashlights... It seems like such a good idea to buy them when you get that little bonus, but then you find yourself buying Malibu or Mint Baileys just for the extras. I'm going to try not to fall prey to the extras. I don't really need Malibu.
But I would like to be outdoors for certain things this winter that would be better enjoyed by a shot of booze to warm my innards. The train at Stanley Park... What I really want to do is sharpen my skates and take to the ice. If only it were cold enough to skate on an outdoor rink. It's one thing I miss desperately about Edmonton: the outdoor rink down the street from my grandparents' old house on a sunny afternoon. When it got cold enough for the lake to freeze, we spent the whole Christmas vacation skating on the lake in Osoyoos. My oldest friend's dad used to flood their driveway and we'd skate almost every night for weeks at a time, until the weather warmed.
Wouldn't all that be fun now with a shot of butter ripple schnapps?
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