Sunday, December 28, 2008
So, for the in-lawses we drew names this year, and put a $5 cap on the gifts. By the 23rd, Joel and I still had no gifts for everyone, and so embarked on the Joel and Rachel vs. The Universe adventure trip.
First stop: home, Craigslisting like bandits. Find styrofoam coolers, screwdriver (with LIGHTS on the end), and thermos for Joel's dad, wicked brass ladle for Joel's mom. All sweet gifts.
Second stop: somewhere in Vancouver to pick up styrofoam coolers (for free). No one is home. We phone, woman sends husband home to fetch coolers. Lose 10 minutes of valuable driving time, but acquire exceptionally large gift.
Third stop: home, because Joel forgot to bring the UBC hoodie he wants to exchange. Lose more valuable driving time. Point awarded to Universe, but remanded when heat is discovered to have been left on full, and fire to have surely ensued had we not returned home. Exchange considered a draw.
Fourth stop subsection A: UBC (Joel) to return hoodie. UBC takes hoodie, promises hoodie in larger size. Joel will have to do some serious angry phoning to actually acquire hoodie. Exchange considered a draw.
Fourth stop subsection B: UBC Staples (Raych) to return busted Palm Pilot. Staples manager is female, fails to be seduced by low-cut top. Refuses to exchange Palm Pilot based on long-expired warrenty.
(One week later, busted Palm mysteriously begins working again. Universe retains point for having caused week of inconvenience and mental anguish, J&R score point for luck.)
Fifth stop: somewhere in Vancouver to pick up $5 screwdriver with lights. While on the way there, Raych discovers old Scratch-n-Win in glove compartment, wins $3. Point awarded. Screwdriver obtained. Point awarded.
Sixth stop: some side street with eleventy feet of snow. Three-point-turn becomes quandry. Tiny Chinese woman offers shovel, and then assistance pushing car. Tiny Chinese woman and Raych fail to dislodge car. Futility and much sock-wetting ensues until passing man helps.
Seventh stop: same side street, some ways the other direction, to get free thermos. Beaten to punch, thermos gone.
Eighth stop: public library in Surrey to pick up sweet $5 brass ladle. Are pleasantly early, pass happy fifteen minutes watching enthusiastic ping pong players in rec center. Ladle arrives on time.
Ninth and final stop: Chilliwack, with all our goods. Everyone is thrilled with cheap, low-expectation gifts. Christmas is a success.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Ok, so I like to make my own pizza dough because it's way easier to always have flour and oil on hand than to wedge frozen pizza crusts into our shoe-box sized freezer. PLUS I make a wikked-good pizza crust, and I like the way dough smells when it's rising.
Which brings me to today. Because for dough to rise, you need a warm environment. Basement suites = sub-arctic temperatures. I have, in the past, considered roosting on my dough to make it rise, but sometimes I got shit to do. ANYways, I figured out that if you turn the oven on for a minute, and then turn it off, it'll warm up enough to do the deed. I like to give the temperature a little flick again about halfway through the rising, because our oven has trouble retaining heat.
The trick is to turn the oven OFF after you've turned it on. Otherwise, instead of rising nicely, your dough will cook into a loaf-ball, and you will have to slice it and make those slices into pizza, because you have been Christmas shopping all day and are too hungry to start over. I was about eight seconds away from this happening to me today. I'm all, why is the oven smoking? Oh right, because I have a bowlful of dough with a dishtowel draped over it in there, AND IT'S ON!!!
Luckily, the dough was just this side of cooked, and I was able to spread it out and bedazzle it. So behold (a foodie photog I am not)! My sausage/red onion/tomato/cheddar and asiago cheese pizza! Covet it!!!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
You know what else has 420 calories? A 5-oz steak! A quarter-pounder! Eighty-four baby carrots! Ok, that last one isn't really that impressive. I'd DEFS rather eat a giant cookie than my weight in baby carrots.
On the flip side, clocking in at a cool 90 calories are the lemon-fizzy-beverages Joel and I walked up to the IGA to buy, and then wanted to drink IMMEDIATELY on the way home, and had to pop the lids off of with my nail file, which broke the neck and cut Joel's lip. Should have just got sodas in cans.
Monday, December 08, 2008
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Later on that day...
Boo: Darren has one of those chocolate oranges.
Me: Ick. Those are gross.
Boo: I know. The mint ones are good, though.
Me:...I may or may not have bought you one for your birthday.
Boo: Because you couldn't find the Pot of Gold Mint Collection?
In other news, remember last winter when I bought myself some wikked moon boots? And how pleased I was with myself for being so practical? We've come a long way, baby. Check these bitches out.
These babies couldn't hit the broad side of practical from three feet away. But they are sexy, and comfortable, and RED, and cost me a healthy chunk of my Christmas money. In advance.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Monday, December 01, 2008
The whole video consists of this rather adorable but undeniably middle-aged woman surfing in high-waisted board shorts, gyrating awkwardly in a quasi-muumuu, and generally making something of an ass of herself. The song was irritating enough, with it's 'All I want to do-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!' (seriously, it goes on waaaaaaay longer than you think it's going to), but the video could have been much less painful if they hadn't been trying to paint her as a sexy teen. Sexy 40-year-old is totally do-able.
Basically, what I'm saying here is, that song is still stuck in my head, and I've eaten too much, and now I'm cranky. Stop making crappy videos, people.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
With an absolute dearth of anything else to talk about, let me take you on a guided tour of my running path!
The interminably-long, mostly straight bit: if this bit were at the end, I'd defs die of boredom. It's long, and straight, and goes on forEVER.
The fun, woodsy, many-bridged bit: this bit is all windy and darty and I have to dodge roots and branches, which is more exciting than it sounds. UnFORtunately, in the rain it's all run-run-run-walk-carefully-over-soggy-bridge-run-run-walk.
The shorter, straight, cobbley bit: this bit has cobbles. Cobbles terrify me because of that time I cankled, and the only non-cobbley bits are ankle-deep puddles. Rock and a hard place, etc. This bit is mercifully short, and is the place where my iPod batteries died today, leaving me alone with MY THOUGHTS for the next twenty-five minutes.
The perfectly straight, overrun-with-dogs bit: this bit is connected to roads on other sides, and is perfectly straight. Many people walk their dogs here. I only run on this road for about two seconds.
The long, winding, fool-me-twice second-to-last bit: this is my favorite bit, because in my mind it's the last bit (fool me once), and then about halfway down there's this bit that looks like the bit right before the end, and I'm all Wooooo! Almost done! And then five minutes later I realize that was the false-end bit (fool me twice) and that I still have a great deal of running to do.
The last bit: this is the bit I always forget about. I always make the turn a bit startled, like Oh yeah! I'm not done yet! But then, in my mind it's this uber-short bit, so I run pell-mell to get it done with quicker. By the time I realize that it's not as short as I remember, I've been running for so long that I figure the end must be just around the next bend. For a surprisingly long time, it isn't.
In a lot of ways, being more aware of my surroundings would make this run a lot more painful, because I'd have an accurate perception of how much longer I have to run at all times. Because I have total goldfish brain, I end up thinking I'm almost done half the time.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Candy canes do not go quietly.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
So I made my case, and they unplugged one of their griddles so I could plug in a microwave and faux-boil my oatmeal, except that a fuse blew halfway through and my oatmeal was barely softened and still swimming in oaty water, more of a tepid oat-soup than a hearty meal. But a blown fuse = a blown fuse, and also = me eating my starchy broth in silence while the engineering students scrambled around trying to figure out how to fix a blown fuse.
I think the irony is lost on them.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
After last week's hellish run-around to get all my assignments done, and a rather satisfying Friday dropping shit off and handing shit in, I have had the awesome weekend of death (the good kind of death, except where that creeping cold caught up with me and sternum-punched me).
Friday night I went to Leah's to watch the America's Next Top Model finale and drink copious amounts of wine and eat a block of expensive cheese and try to reproduce some of the modelly gals' most famous poses (there will be pictures up on Facebook later) and then stumble to the bus and transit my way home feeling like a bag of sand. Being sick always dehydrates me so much, and wine is not what you call 'water.'
Saturday Joel and I ran all around town in the moderate sunshine, by which I mean to the aquarium and then to Joel's friend's wife's dad's place in Vancouver for appies and more wine and then down to Granville Island for dinner and theater sports and then back to Joel's friend's wife's dad's place and then home.
I am le drained. I would like to sleep for a month, and maybe I will. I think I'll go take that Buckley's now.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Also, as brilliantly cloudless as it was this morning when I took the time to blow out my hair and admire my sexy bangs, it is now pouring rain. I saw the forecast, and I ignored it.
I am entirely umotivated to succeed today.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
What do you want to hear about? About how we kept our nicest TA for an hour and a half past his regular office hours because NONE of us (TA included) could figure out what was going on with the assignment?
Or how I have a poster due tomorrow that's worth 25% of our final grade (meeps) and she keeps giving us time in class to work on it when, unless someone brings posterboard and markers to class, there's not much we can do?
Or how I have the sorest of throats?
Or how this weekend I'm going to have the longest of sleeps?
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Regardless, let's talk about taking the bus and how hard it is. So today I catch the 480 which is, like, eight miles long (the bus, not the route), and I worm my way all the way to the back because that's where the single functioning light is, and I have a quiz to study for.
The new talking buses are awesome, and they mean that you can happily immerse yourself in a linguistics text and know exactly where you are without looking up. EXCEPT! So I'm in the back plowing through vowel acoustics when the bus stops, says 'Thunderbird Boulevard,' and EVERYONE gets off.
I sit there for a minute because vowel acoustics is hard, y'all! But then I realize that everyone has gotten off AND that we're not moving, and I'm all, Awwwwww, does this bus not go all the way to the loop? ALL buses go all the way to the loop.
So I look up and hey presto! We're at the loop, Talking Bus was wrong. BUT! Now both back doors (see? Long bus) are shut because the bus is off, and I have to walk the eight miles up to the front of the bus where the bus driver is laughing at me so I can get off.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Rachel krueger's Dewey Decimal Section:
429 Old English (Anglo-Saxon)
Rachel krueger = 8138521815758 = 813+852+181+575+8 = 2429
Linguistics and language books.
What it says about you:
You value communication, even with people who are different from you. You like trying new things don't mind being exposed to unfamiliar territory. You get bored with routines that never change.
Find your Dewey Decimal Section at Spacefem.com
Saturday, November 15, 2008
What part of 'never play again' don't you understand? Why even supply this option if you're going to keep barraging me with Bare Naked Ladies long after I've clicked the little circle-with-a-line?
I am confused. I hang out here instead of on the real radio because I can, allegedly, control what I listen to. While I love your 90's Rock Station, there is some dreck from that era I'd like to avoid.
If 'never play again' actually translates as 'play much less often,' kindly amend your labels. I won't be upset. All I want is clear communication, and more obscure bands from my Awkward Years.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Bold the ones you've read, italicize the ones you started but couldn't finish, use red text on the ones you really sort of hated, put an asterisk* next to the ones you really sort of loved, and use blue text on the ones on your own personal To Be Read list.
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Crime and Punishment
One Hundred Years of Solitude
Life of Pi
The Name of the Rose
Pride and Prejudice
A Tale of Two Cities*
The Brothers Karamazov
Guns, Germs, and Steel: the fates of human societies
War and Peace
The Time Traveller’s Wife*
The Blind Assassin
The Kite Runner
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Reading Lolita in Tehran: a memoir in books
Memoirs of a Geisha*
Wicked : the life and times of the wicked witch of the West*
The Canterbury Tales
The Historian : a novel
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Love in the Time of Cholera
Brave New World
The Count of Monte Cristo*
A Clockwork Orange
The Once and Future King*
The Grapes of Wrath
The Poisonwood Bible*
Angels & Demons
The Satanic Verses
Sense and Sensibility
The Picture of Dorian Gray*
One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest*
To the Lighthouse
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay*
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime*
The Sound and the Fury
The God of Small Things
A people’s history of the United States : 1492-present
A Confederacy of Dunces
A Short History of Nearly Everything*
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
The Scarlet Letter*
Eats, Shoots & Leaves*
The Mists of Avalon
Oryx and Crake*
Collapse : how societies choose to fail or succeed
The Catcher in the rye
On the Road
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Freakonomics : a Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
In Cold Blood
The Three Musketeers
Oh unreadable books, some of you are so fabulous. Cloud Atlas, you have no business on this list.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
She came to visit! Well, ok, she and her family came back to Canada for some months, and she and her husband were in Van tonight, and Joel and I had dinner with them! And that's all I really have to say about that, because you aren't interested in my delicious gyro, and because it would take too long to tell you how all the boys are doing (short version: awesome), and I have to go write an online quiz now. But Karen? I totally love you, and hanging out was definitely worth missing male-models-and-potential-nude-shoot-awkwardness on America's Next Top Model.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
Enter the Not-In-Service bus. He starts his route at UBC at, like, 7:20, which means that at 7:10, while I'm standing forlornly by the side of the road, he dawdles past my stop on his way to work. And stops. To pick me up. And drive me to school. At least two days a week.
I seriously owe him a pony.
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Ok, so. Who has ghey bangs? It's me! I have ghey bangs! Also boo does. See? See how awful our bangs are, and how sloppy and blah our hair colors are? I know. How do we even go out in public?
Here we are trying to take a serious picture, and looking terribly tired. Do you see? Seriousness = bag-face.
Ok, so! New hair colors!! And I know, we bought the same color. But different brands! We're trying.
Also, somebunny needs a shower!
Ok, so! New bangs! New hair-ends! Healthiness and bounce!!!!
Huzzah for sister-days!
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Friday, November 07, 2008
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Ok, so there's a mystery, and it's quite late and I've had a bit of wine so it's possible that it's no mystery at all, BUT! I made potatoes with tuna and cheese for supper, and as I'm leaving I'm all, Joel, can you clean this up (meaning 'put it in the fridge so we can eat it again tomorrow'). I just got home...the potatoes aren't on the counter where I left them, but they aren't in the fridge either (we have a small, emptyish fridge, so I'd see them). They aren't in our tiny freezer, nor accidentally in the cupboard.
WHERE ARE THE POTATOES?
Joel is sleeping, and I'm obvs not going to wake him up to ask him such a dumb question, but I've looked ALL over the kitchen, AND the living room, AND snuck a peek in the bedroom just in case he took them in there to finish them off and forgot to bring the pan back out.
Ghosts have eaten our potatoes. I was going to have them for lunch tomorrow. Ghosts have some answering to do.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
In other news, Obama is president! So sad that his grandma died yesterday, but at least we can all heave a sigh of relief that this'll never happen. Now we can all laugh freely, instead of laughing uneasily while we voodoo her behind closed doors.
I et halloween candy for supper. I need to start swimming MORE laps. Did I mention that I bought a swim cap, and that I look like a purple-headed tadpole? Also, that I left my bathing suit top at the pool today? Hawhoops.
Oh, nope. I found it. It schwas in the wash.
Dear Raych, you are not making any sense.
Well you weren't at school all day, doing word-math! So give a girl a break, no?
It is time to find some salty.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Dear Girls Wearing Tights Under Your Short-Shorts,
I know. Every time I talk about how tights aren't pants and how you can't wear them as such, I mention both 'under skirts' and 'under shorts IF YOU NEED TO' as ways you can wear them. However, you no longer need to. I don't know how to convey this to you. We are no longer in the 'Let's still pretend it's summer' segment of fall. We have entered into the rainy-ass almost-winter portion, and it is cold. It is damp.
I KNOW! This means that all other legs are covered up, and your legs are getting all the leg-ttention. Bully for you. But you could just, I don't know, wear a pair of really tight pants, couldn't you? Even leggings would be better than this.
Sincerely, The Girl in Gumboots. No, the other one. Not the designer expensive gumboots, the ones from Superstore. Little-boys section.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
I kind of appreciate all the individual environmentally-havocal wrapping, though, because that way there's no lying to yourself. When you wake up in the morning and there're 19 tiny OHenry wrappers next to your pillow, you know what you did.
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Be prepared, though, for a lot of nothing. Today, par example, we'll be talking about persimmons!
So, all of a sudden last fall I'm allergic to apples and can't eat them anymore, because they give me the death. Frown. Since then, I've been looking for a new grab-and-go fruit with little success.
Oranges: peeling them is work, and then your hands are sticky.
Bananas: WILL bruise in your bag, no matter how careful you are.
Seasonal berries: are seasonal. Also, easily mashed.
Melon: requires pre-thinking and cutting.
H'anyvays, today I grabbed a persimmon or two from my happy Asian food mart. Persimmons are tasty! Who knew! And if you get the ones that look like tiny squashed pumpkins (why does all fall produce look the same?) then you don't even have to peel them!
I know that, like berries, they also are seasonal, and that in a few weeks I'll be back to my bruised bananas and my sticky grapefruits, but for now (provided they aren't some secret apple-kin and I don't get sick in the next hour), I'll be chucking a persimmon in the old backpack for mid-class snackerings. Zoot zoot!
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
I move that, in order to preserve some very fine phraseology while introducing a bit of novelty, that we switch to 'douche-hat' and 'assbag.' 'Douche-hat' is a little awkward when spoken aloud, but 'assbag' makes up for it both in roll-off-the-tonguery and in visual image hilarity.
Anyone second the motion?
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
H'anyvays, for my one linguistics class, we're all talking about the midterm and about linguisticky things, and then this one girl posts:
hi.i came across some religious languages...the archaic ones..thats used when writing holy books such as bible and ramayan...
andi was also watching this television series FRIENDS (the best comedy series ever :-D).........one of the characters in friends studies dianosaurs..
this brought a question into my head - why arent dinosaurs mentioned in the holy books?....they do mention evolution and othet animals...why not dinosaurs?...
To which: many things. How exactly did you 'come across' these archaic languages? Did you spontaneously learn them? Find them in the gutter? Inquiring minds...
Also, 'this television series' you speak of sounds dull. Who wants to watch a man study dianosaurs?
Also, in which holy book is evolution mentioned? The Origin of Man, in its original Sanskrit?
And then some guy is all, Man wrote the holy books and probably had not yet discovered dinosaurs by the time he did so, and then there's a bunch of other jibber-jabber and our prof comes on and seizes on some linguistic matter mentioned in passing and tries to steer the conversation thataway.
So then this same girl opens up a new discussion topic and is all:
hey....what do you guys think about UFO"S and aliens?....
are they realy out there?.....has anyone experience anything relating to aliens ;-p.........?....i hope not...
but britain just released some secret files about alien sighting experience by different people including a pilot who reported he almost crashed into something ......too big to be flying and was too fast.......
what do we ordinary people think? ( and the spelling of people is funny isnt it)...
...? WTF? Secret files? And how big is 'too big to be flying'? Because space ships are, you know, big (side note: Paris Hilton is being sent into space I'm not even lying).
I wish I had some witty commentary on the state of our children, and how the internet is making us all dumber, but I really just wanted to give everyone a good laugh. Come, join me in the anonymous mockery!
Friday, October 24, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
And then again with CLR Kitchen and Bathroom:
Ok, so it's not the blood of virgins, but it did a decent job. Half of that is missing paint anyways. CLR smells better than the death-bleach smell, and I wish I'd had it when we were moving out of Dave and Shari's and trying to get the soap scum off the shower by sheer force of will.
And the kitchen?
Ta-ta!!!!Revel in it, folks. Luxuriate in my clean kitchen. This won't happen again until we move.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Political views aside, this me laugh so hard I almost cried. If you don't have 1:30 to spare, skip ahead to :40. You will positively die.
Also, who has this kind of time?
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Ok, so sometimes I suck at running errands. Most of the time, I am an errand champion. I take the bus and I have to haul everything around on my back, so I excel at plotting out my errand points from least-heavy/likely-to-go-bad to most-etc. Also, I like to streamline things so that I'm getting off and on the bus the fewest amount of times.
A couple of weeks ago, I head out erranding on a Monday. Wheee to the library! Except that the library isn't open on Mondays. Very well, whee to the bulk foods store! Except, also not open on Mondays. Errand fail.
A week or so later, I head up to the used book store which claims to buy used books, and I get there all, Hey, you guys buy books?
The lady behind the counter: 'Yes.'
Me: '...Want some books?'
Lady: 'We don't buy books on Tuesdays.'
So today, I'm going to take 2 buses to the library, and then one bus back to Dunbar where I have to get off anyways and switch buses, so while I'm off, I'm going to hit the bulk foods store, and then zip all the way down to Zellers for cans/boxes/snacks, and then the produce store (which will be awkward, because I will be full of cans/boxes/snacks as well as bulk food products and books, but it's either that or head to Zellers all bulky with produce, which is less forgiving) where I will also buy milk because milk! So heavy!
Except that when I get to the library at 9:30, it doesn't open until 10. I text boo all 'schnoo schnoo schnooo,' drop off my books, and head to the bulk foods store. I'd been counting on picking up some books since I finished the one I was on this morning, and now have nothing to do on the bus but try and avoid that guy's eye. H'anyvays, I get off at Dunbar and head to the bulk foods store...also not open until 10. Parallel lives, the bulk foods and library. While I'm staring at the store hours and growling, my bus to Zellers goes whizzing by.
Now, even if I go all the way to Zellers and the produce store, I'll still only have finished half my errands, and I'll have to spend the whole bus ride bookless. Also, I will have to wait for a bus. Sometimes, you just cut your losses, head to the IGA for cereal and milk, and walk home.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
SO! I made Mint-chocolate Mammograms. Deliciousness for all.
For the cookies:
1/2 cup butter
1 1/2 cup flour
1/3 cup cocoa
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 or 2 eggs, beaten
Preheat oven to 350/180. Grease large cookie sheet.
Combine flour and cocoa. Cut in butter until fine. Stir in sugar.
Add enough beaten egg to form a soft dough. Roll to 1/8" and cut into rounds.
Bake about 15 minutes or until...they are still dark brown. Cool on wire rack.
For the frosting (this gets much less scientific):
A blob of butter, like, 2 golf-ball sized.
Powdered sugar...maybe a cup.
An eensy bit of milk or cream or half-and-half, whatever liquid dairy you have on hand.
Pink food coloring
Beaterize all the above. If too thick, add more milk. If too thin, add more sugar. I like it good and stiff for these, so that you can pile it on thick.
Blob frosting onto cookie.
Smoosh other cookie onto first (that's the 'mammogram' part).
Chuck into fridge until later so that frosting is less gishy.
Later, melt some chocolate - chocolate chips, chocolate bars, whatever - in the microwave until runny. Don't burn it.
Dip half of cookie into chocolate. Place on waxed/parchment paper and let set.
Eat and share with friends!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Also, have I mentioned that I write the culture column here?
Friday, October 10, 2008
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Like the other day: 'Black....No, black....A black one....black....yes.....no, black....a black one...black.'
And then today: 'Where are you....in the SUB?.....Are you going to stay there?.....Are you....Are you going to stay there?....Are you going to stay there?.....Huh?'
Like, do you have the world's worst phone connection? Ever? Huh? What? Go outside and you can hear better.
I'm such a crank.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
But it's one of the new buses and they have wacky windows and I don't know how to open it, and I'm only on the bus for a few minutes besides (see above), so eventually I'm all, Sorry, can't do it. And I sit down and wait the two seconds til we're at my stop and then I get off. This woman gets off at the same stop as me, which means that either the airless bus was killing her, or that she needed those windows open for all three minutes she was bussing.
H'ANYvays, so I'm trucking along and I hear, Excuse me! I turn, and it's this same lady. Where did you get your haircut! she says, but it's not like, Heyyyyyyyyyyyyy, nice hair! Where did you get it cut? It's more like, Where's the friggin cash register in this store! Like that. Also, I feel I need to add that I don't have a particularly great haircut right now. In fact, I have a fairly awful haircut that has grown out into a reasonable cut. Also, it was pulled back and therefore not visible.
In, uhhhhh, in Abbotsford, I say. So not here, she says. Uh....no. Abbotsford is neither here in Vancouver nor here on this street.
This appears to be all she wants from me, and she strides off, presumably in search of someone else with hair to ask where they got it cut. At least now she has fresh air.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Also, the ankle is healing nicely. It's only a little bit fat and a little bit green.
This weekend was mad busy. Boo and Darren joined me and Joel in attending Matt's concert, because he is a rock star. We are all glaringly old, and going out to a bar at 11:00 made us feel quite put-upon, but the band rocked hard and nobody fainted. Joel performed in an a capella choir for a memorial service the med students put on for the people who willingly sign their corpses over to be dismembered by over-achieving 22-year-olds. We went to a Stephen Pinker lecture which was hilarious and who, if you ever get a chance, I recommend you go see. I flexed all of my ab muscles separately (see above).
Also, I have had a raging head cold and my soft palate feels like sand. I eat nothing but grapefruits and soup all day long. We only have 5 mugs, and all I want to do all day is drink hot things, and the LAST thing I want to do is wash a mug, so I've designated them as tea-mug, straight-up-coffee-mug, sweet-powdered-coffee-mug, hot-water-by-itself-mug, and Neo-Citran-mug. Now I don't wash nothing.
Last night I had a Neo-Citran before bed and then a pile of bizarre dreams, most of which I can't remember. I do remember getting my new cell phone in the mail, and it being the size of a tv remote. If this happens, I will smash something. Also, I will start vending my prescient dreams.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
So, I'm a crappy runner and need to stop sucking at things. Yesterday I'm running in the park, and I come around this corner at high speeds because it's my favorite part of the trail and it comes just after my least favorite part of the trail, and also because it means I'm halfway home. So I'm gunning it around this corner and I roll my ankle on a rock.
It hurts for a second and I say a few swears, but I'm really far from home and sweaty and it's cold out, and after I walk on it a few minutes, it seems fine and I'm able to run home on it. It's a little swollen by the time I get home, but I have things to do. I figure my boots will help support it for the day by, I don't know, crushing it from all sides, or something.
So I go and meet Joel at school and we have a study date with some of his med-buddies, and after a few hours I realize that no blood is getting to my one foot. So we're in there studying and I've got my one boot unzipped all the way down, looking like a tool.
Finally, I leave to go home, and as I come out of the building I see the bus. All this sitting and not moving has stiffened my ankle up so that I can hardly put weight on it, but the buses only run every half hour on Saturdays, and it's cold. So I gimp-run until I get close enough to see that it isn't my bus at all.
I go run some errands because we haven't got any food in the house, and by the time I get home I'm hobbling under the weight of my backpack, my laptop, my groceries, and my ridiculously oversized purse. I finally get around to stripping off my boots, and my ankle is swollen to thrice it's natural size.
The bruising is already halfway to awesome.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Ok, well, 2/3 of a bag. And then the blood stopped coming out and they readjusted the needle and I went a little grey and they cut me off.
But 2/3 of a bag! We're calling this a triumph. Not, like, a mighty triumph, but one that deserves cookies and juice.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
So, Joel and I are going to go give blood tomorrow afternoon, and upon weighing the pros and cons of telling them that I'm a fainter (Pro: they will keep an eye on me. Con: to make sure I don't hook myself up to a bag, because there is no way they will let me donate) I have decided to just follow the advice of the last kind nurse to put cold cloths on my forehead and wrists.
So I'm eating big meals tonight and tomorrow lunch, drinking tons of water, and plan on shotgunning a juice right before I go in, and avoiding coffee. I'm also doing my usual iron-doping (red meat and spinach!! Also, but less interestingly, oatmeal). My mom can't give blood because of low iron levels. My sister likewise cannot give blood because she is, like me, a fainter (caveat: she managed to fill a bag before going under).
I'm confident that this time, THIS TIME, I will make it past the finger-pricking. Whether or not I make it to the arm-sticking is a different story. I'll let you know how things go.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Joel:...I just wish I were better at them.
Me: You're quite good at them.
Joel: I'm awful at them.
Me: You're surprisingly good for a science major.
Joel:...That's like saying, For a guy in a wheelchair, you do a surprisingly good pole vault.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
So for lunch today, I'm all, I'll have some cottage cheese with cut-up fruit and some granola in it, because that seems suitably yoga-ish.
High-fiber, high-gassss-making lunches are not yoga-friendly.
Monday, September 08, 2008
This is Estella, my lovely lady-skeleton. I bought her in Mexico and she survived the trip home. All of her fingers broke off, and I had to glue them back on one by one. She's missing a thumb in this picture because I didn't find it until an hour or so later. She is the very picture of elegance.
This is my greatest space-saving solution yet. It is a placemat. It is also where I hang my earrings. Martha Stewart is my bitch.My foot-thong tan makes it look like my feetses' underwears are showing.
The enormous landlord-cat only comes by when Joel's not home, so I have to take pictures to prove that the cat is (surprisingly often) in our suite. Please to compare cat-size to laptop-size. Cat is a great big one.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Monday, September 01, 2008
Like how the first week of med school is all scavenger hunts and group-charades and wine-and-cheese parties and then wham-o! On Friday you cut up bodies. Real ones. That used to be people.
Or how there are trails all through the UBC endowment lands that I've been jogging, and how there are also creeks all through said lands which means there are dozens of wooden bridges, and how someone needs to lay down some chicken wire on those bridges so they aren't quite so slick in the rain. I mean, I know, chicken wire is uggers, and when it's not raining the bridges are totally functional on their own, but as that French-Canadian fellow said to Robyn when she neglected to bring her rain gear to work based on the slim promise of a sunny morning, This is Vancouver.
And also how, often when I am jogging with my headphones in, and some song will start up that has talking at the beginning but I'll just hear voices in my ear and think someone is right behind me and scream! Except that two days ago I was jogging, and I heard a voice in my ear and thought it was just pre-song chatter but then something pulled up on my right and THERE IS A MAN ON A BIKE! And I screamed and he apologized, all, I've been trying to get your attention so I wouldn't scare you when I biked past you, and I'm all out of breath and adrenaline-sick because ack!
And how Joel and I watched the entire fourth season of 24 yesterday. We started at 5:00 am and went hard straight through and finished before 11:00 pm.
And how our tuition is due on Wednesday and our student loans should come through any second now...but maybe not before Wednesday, in which case...
That's all for now, kiddies. I'll try not to be so absent in the future.
Monday, August 25, 2008
And now, apropos of nothing, I had no cat allergies in Mexico but had TERRIBLE cat allergies previous, so we're conducting an experiment wherein we unlock the little cat door that leads to our suite and let the comically-oversized grey cat (if he so chooses) to come into our home, and then we see if I am miserable. Maybe I am only allergic to Canadian cats.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
These are tiny puppies from the pet store. I palmed their heads.
This is Dag, and these are his ribs.
Dag only comes by the house for a meal every few days, and he won't eat if you're watching him. He won't even come in the house unless you round up the cats and lock them in the bedroom.
This is Perro. He is a dog from one of the housebuilds, and is almost certainly diseased, but he is also desperately cute. I lasted three days before I petted him, and I didn't tell Joel. He has paint on his forehead, but it's not from me.
Also, we arrived home safe and sound.