rebound

Just finished making a chorizo, tomato and mushroom quiche and it's pretty good. I suspect it's hard to mess up quiche, short of forgetting the milk or putting sugar in instead of salt. I once ran out of milk and made up the difference with vanilla soy milk, and it still tasted good.

This morning I've been moderately domestic. I started laundry as soon as I woke up and got two loads out of the way, and tidied up the kitchen a bit. I despise doing laundry in this building, not because it's always busy (although it is sometimes) but because there's only one of each machine and it takes FOREVER to get through loads. I guess I got spoiled with the last place; there were two machines on every floor, so I could do weeks worth of laundry in less than 2 hours.

This is dull, I realise.

The depressive episode of the weekend is over, largely because I saw/talked to a bunch of great friends on Sunday and Monday.

Sunday I met up with TP and Jill for dinner at Burgoo. I've got to say... so underwhelming. I only had a few bites of mine and traded with TP and picked at hers. I don't know that I would go again unless I wanted soup. Made plans with Rachel to watch a hockey game next weekend with my little buddy Augie, which I'm really excited about. My two alma mater are playing each other. Should be a good game.

Monday I met up with my guybrarian friend Rich after his interview at the library. He and his pal were 4 pitchers into the afternoon by the time I got there (a detour thanks to a package issue with the local postal outlet put me an hour late), so conversation was animated. They almost talked me into going to Vegas this weekend, but work kept me out. It was a lot of fun, and we made plans to go to a Giants game this weekend, hopefully with our other guybrarian friend.

The reason I was late was because of the aforementioned package. I hoped it was my glasses; it was not. It could be even better, depending how disturbing you find it.

The back story: I saw an ad somewhere for a product sold in the US and wanted to try it. It was so intriguing that I bought a 3-pack of it and paid the ridiculous shipping cost with the idea that I can give two of the three away as Christmas gifts. I haven't tried it yet (I've been waiting on its sister product that a friend got for me in Seattle before I open this one), but will as soon as I find some tomatoes. I would actually like to go to Seattle sometime and pick up specialty flavours and try to go to Target and get away from Vancouver for a few days. Since I have virtually no work yet for December I could probably do that. In theory.

Cripes, I wish I could stay home today. Cramps are kicking the crap out of my lady parts.

a dip in the ratings

I'm having a low day.

Avoidance is interesting. It preys on fears and confirms assumptions.

Today I just wish avoidance weren't the acceptable way to end friendships.

lippy

Holy crap, I hate people.

After a delightful night out with my CBC peeps, I rode the bus partway home with the most entitled yet stupid woman alive.

Seriously, if you think that getting on an empty bus at night at a back door is the best option for you, you should rethink your strategy. The bus driver called her to show him her ticket and she lipped him off. Then she started talking loudly about what an ass he was, at which point I said, "He just wanted to see your ticket." She waved it in front of my face (sort of, a few feet away) and said, "Here's my fucking ticket. Stay out of it."

Like I can do that when provoked.

So I said, "This isn't the B-line. He wants you to enter through the front." To which she replied, "It's LIKE the B-line." I said, "It's NOT the B-line, so you have to show your ticket." And then she got all bitchy and told me to fuck off, to which I obviously also had to tell her to fuck off and stop being so selfish.

When people try to appeal their case to innocent bystanders who want to stay out of it, you know the person is grasping a straws. This is what ensued.

I had a moment with a stranger, who essentially gave me a rolling eye look that said 'that woman is a ridiculous cow who is unable to not be a bitch,' and we had our moment and went back to our ride.

The woman gave me the finger when she got off, to which I gave her the British finger because I figured she either would think it was the peace sign or would be too stupid to know what I meant.

To summarise, people suck ass.

A little shout-out to CH for the secretive birthday on Monday (holla!): we'll be eating buffet chocolate real soon.

Just now I got into the most ridiculous misunderstanding with one of my closest friends, which resulted in me crying on the phone as we tried to figure it out. It's hard to be articulate and thoughtful with 1/3 of 6 jugs of beer coursing through your veins. Guh. No talking for me.

I guess it's that kind of night.

seeing clearly

The weather is kind of nice, but I've yet to go outside. Hiding under blankets always sounds like a better alternative to being cold, and it still feels a little cold out. I still haven't turned on my heat.

Today I bought two pairs of glasses. There is a ridiculously cheap sale at Clearly Contacts ($38 designer glasses!) and I really liked a couple of the styles. So... these will be added to the other pairs I've gotten from there. I don't really understand how they can sell complete glasses for $38, but I'm not complaining. Two pairs for under $80 is just silly to me.

Am feeling pretty dull lately. I'm OK, but just really low energy and without a whole lot of motivation to do much of anything. OK, that's not wholly accurate. I've got low motivation to make plans with people because it seems like a lot of effort with little in return. I'd rather stay home than make the effort right now. Perhaps it's the weather, perhaps it's because I'm trying to avoid people who have been sick in recent weeks...

Perhaps it's just feeling the weight of Remembrance Day. I'll, once again, make my way to the cenotaph for the ceremony and then head over to the Billy Bishop for drinks. It's a comforting tradition, and anyone is welcome to come with.

let the show begin

Last night I went to Last Candidate Standing, a public forum for those running for public office in the municipal election. Public Space Network put it on in conjunction with SFU and it was... interesting. I invited my friend to go with and sold it by saying it would probably be a gong show since all mayoral and council candidates were invited. Little did I know it was literally going to be a gong show.

Only 18 of 25 candidates went to the forum, but it was still worth the time. Some of the people running are so fringe that I couldn't even understand their platforms. It was fascinating to hear why people were running and I felt bad for a few because they took themselves much more seriously than their platforms would allow. Legalise cocaine and heroin? Build 2000 $500/month geothermal apartments with no money? Uh... OK. It was hard to take someone seriously when one compared himself to a virgin, one wore evergreens in a visor and another wore a red ruffled shiny shirt with a top hat.

If only all political events were so amusing.

I'm pretty excited to vote next week.

Surprises: one Work Less Party candidate was quite impressive, one of the independent mayoral candidates was someone I would consider voting for, the cocaine/heroin comment.

After the forum I popped into Slickety Jim's for a birthday party, which was pretty fun, but I stayed only long enough to chug some ginger beer, have a quick chat with friends and salute the birthday boy. Good times.

half baked

I really, really like to bake. If I'm upset or angry one of the best ways for me to calm down is to bake. I love the measurements, the exactness of powers and liquids and congealed solids. Mixing bowls... love them and will buy vintage coloured pyrex anytime (if it's a good deal). I bought measuring cups last week in anticipation of the bakefest I planned for this weekend. I have dreams of silpat mats and silicone spatulas and mini bundt cake tins. I would spend all my money on cookbooks if I had anywhere to put them.

The things I baked Friday/Saturday:
1) upside down cranberry cake
2) molasses ginger cookies
3) black forest-ish cake
4) apple pie
5) poundcake/trifle
I had intended to make a berry cobbler, but changed my mind at the last minute. Probably for the best. There was a lot of dessert.

Note to self: don't bake so much at one time.

Thankfully a nice hoard of people came by for tea yesterday afternoon. I was concerned I'd wind up eating everything by myself, all the effort for nought. The most popular item, and the one I'm planning to make again soon, was the cranberry cake. Cripes, it was good. I managed to coerce a few people to take stuff home with them because there's no way I'd be able to eat all the leftovers. Baking cakes from scratch (frick, poundcake takes forever to bake, especially when you start at 1:30am) is satisfying; when they actually taste good, the satisfaction is amplified.

I used my china and wore the tea ring Dulcie gave me (thanks, girlie!) as promised. I'm going to try to use the china more frequently because it's much more fun to drink from a tiny teacup than anything. Perhaps more teacup gimlets should be in my future. Perhaps more cups and saucers...

Today I cleaned up the dishes and eliminated the slug that mysteriously died beside my fridge (*shudder*) and decided to bake cornbread muffins. I had a cheese ball that I bought on a whim to use in cooking and decided to cut it up and shove it and some jalapeños in the middle of the batter. Frick, I love cornbread. These suckers are fantastic, but so fricking hot. So good! When I mentioned to my sister about them, she stared at me stunned. The remainder of our conversation:

me: "They're really good. I swear."
Anita: "...I want to try them. The cheese is inside?"
me: "Ya, I usually use cream cheese, but thought I'd try this other cheese. I can give you one when you drop me off."
Anita: "Cream cheese? Oooo...Uh... just one? How many did you make?"
me: "A dozen."
Anita: "A dozen? Can't you give me more than one?"
me: "..."
Anita: "I want one now."

We had this conversation while we were waiting to order at the Reef. She and Peter took me for a belated birthday dinner, my choice. Peter and I both ordered the mahi mahi; Anita went with the less conventional jerk chicken quesadilla ("I ordered Mexican food at a Caribbean restaurant..." - Anita). When she tried mine she looked at my plate forlornly. Peter made lots of mmmm noises while he ate. It was darn good. We briefly discussed dessert, but there was no way to stuff anything else into any of us.

Besides, I still have all that cake in my fridge.

none the wiser

Every year I decide that this is the year I won't plan anything for my birthday. And every year I cave at the last minute.

This year, like every other year, I planned to do nothing. Enquiries about my birthday plans had been lukewarm save for one. I had planned to go for a drink and a nice dinner by myself, not to avoid anyone but just to take in the experience quietly without the pressure of organising. It's a lot of work to make people celebrate a day that's only of importance to one person.

My friend was having none of that, though, and took me to Chambar, encouraging just another glass of the yummy beer as he picked up the check. We had to talk over the Madonna crowd and, had we planned for 30 minutes later, would have missed the ruckus and broken glass. It was the sort of experience I had hoped I could watch during my solo dinner, but it was much more fun to talk in hushed tones about people wearing too many sequins and not enough good taste.

The battle with Hallowe'en has reached a truce. I no longer try to compete with a synthetic holiday that people would rather celebrate than the late night hour I was born. I thank my mother that she managed to birth me less than an hour before Hallowe'en; this way I can support that it's tacky to wear a costume on the wrong day. Those that think it's fun to have a Hallowe'en themed birthday every year of your life should try it sometime. It isn't fun to be the busker outside the circus.

And so I celebrate my birthday today.

Plans to bake six desserts for who knows how many people have been tested. At 9pm I discovered that, when my oven was replaced, I forgot about the baking paraphernalia in the drawer. A frantic call to my landlord resulted in nothing but him blacklisting me as crazy (probably). Three of my desserts relied heavily on those pans/tins (and by relied heavily, what I mean to say is relied entirely). I couldn't make dinner until midnight and didn't eat until 2am. I realised that the showstopping cake I wanted to make required a candy thermometer because of the necessary precision of temperature for the icing; I lack a candy thermometer. I ran out of flour at 3am, suspending production until the shops open this morning. Anxiety about the day's schedule woke me up at 6:30. We'll just see what happens at this point. It might come down to throwing a carton of whipping cream, the bag of icing sugar and frozen berries into the middle of the table and hiding in my closet, between the shoes and the luggage.

I'm sure things will go fine; I'm just a drama queen. A worst-case scenario kind of girl.

The shops should be open now. Time to buy bakeware and flour. I wonder if they have candy thermometers at IGA...