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.
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