i am saved by the buoyancy of citrus

February Photo-a-day Challenge

2012-02-02T16:30:00.000-08:00

Did I mention I'm doing this?

I am terrible at Doing Things Consistently, but here goes. You can follow me on Instagram (raychraychraych, obviously) and I'll wrap them up here on the 29th if I manage to continue past, like, the 3rd. It is going to be, I confess, very Eleanor-centric.

So far, Day One: Your View Today (And, Let's Face It, Every Day. All Day)

And Day Two: Words (How 9th-Grade-Art-Prompt of them)

Learn to read, bebe. You will like it.

I am ok with this arrangement.

2012-02-01T16:46:00.000-08:00

Joel went to the States about a week ago and brought me back a couple of gas station hand pies, because I love them so much. SO MUCH.

And then he went to New York between residency interviews last weekend and brought me back some macarons, because they are on my life list.

I am surrounded by deliciousness.

Someone should get a cupcake, and that someone's probably me.

2012-01-31T12:51:00.000-08:00

You guys! My babeling is a month old. A MONTH. So old.

And I know that they grow and that's kind of the idea but check it:

fresh, contemplative baby

wise old fat bald baby

And remember these elephant legs?

Plumplings!

And she looks at your face way less like it is A Thing In A World of Things, and way more like, HEY FACE! I REMEMBER YOU, FACE!

I like her, is what.

I win. For now.

2012-01-30T22:12:00.001-08:00

We discovered inadvertently over the weekend that Eleanor loves laying on her back on a hard surface. Like the coffee table, or the kitchen counter. She LOVES it, I'm not kidding. She fusses? Toss her on the floor.

Anywoot, this preference may not last long but for NOW it's a fun trick. And we recently came into some Eleanor-directed funds, so today I bought her an activity gym off of the craigslist.

By the time we got home from picking it up, she was hungry and her diaper was full, but NEW TOY. I put her on it just to see. She kept trying to pitch a fit, but then she'd be distracted by a flashing light or a dangly monkey or something.

Why I oughta - oooh, a giraffe!

This is how she ends up with the whole bed to herself.

2012-01-29T11:27:00.000-08:00

Ok so I don't let Eleanor sleep in our bed? And I don't judge you if you're co-sleepy because your baby is less likely to catch the SIDS than mine. I just, I like my bed. When Joel comes back after an extended departure, I'm always like UGH MY SIDE OF THE BED IS SO SMALL. So to put another person in there, especially one that wriggles?

Only, sometimes I let Eleanor sleep in our bed. When she feeds at 5:30 and then at 6:30 is like MOAR FEED and I can't stand the thought of getting out of bed AGAIN, I just drag her in with me and feed her there. Then she goes back to sleep and I remember why I don't let her sleep in the bed with us because THE WRIGGLING.

Sleep aides.

2012-01-28T17:37:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, when she is already pretty pissed about things in general, I give her a bath. It angries up the blood, and then she CAN'T STAY AWAKE she's so mad. The other day she was so furious she went to sleep before I could even dress her.

Most days I take her for a walk because WHAT ELSE DO YOU DO WITH AN INFANT? She's hit a growth spurt, so she spends her time sleeping, eating, and fussing. I much prefer her sleeping, and the fresh air and sunshine is too much for her tiny brain to process so she knocks out immediately.

I can't wait till summer. We will lay on the lawn and take naps.

Big'un.

2012-01-25T14:53:00.000-08:00

She is eight and a half pounds! Well done, darling.

She has, as predicted, outgrown her ducky-feet jimjams. Not fatwise, but longwise. First item of clothing: retired!

To be shortly followed by that fleecy sleep-sack that she can't quite straighten her legs in.

Sort of for Eleanor? But mostly sort of for me.

2012-01-23T15:55:00.000-08:00

Eleanor had a baby shower yesterday, and showers before the baby comes are excellent because then when the baby comes, you have spit-up blankets. But showers AFTER the baby comes are also excellent, because then you are way more excited about receiving eight more spit-up blankets. Now I will only have to do laundry every THREE days.

Everything has been sorted, with the Clothes She Is Likely To Fit Into In the Next Three Months (As Per The Semi-Arbitrary Sizing [See Below]) are in her drawers, and one box is full of Clothes She Is Likely To Fit Into In the Next Year (As Per Etc), with another box for Later On.

Re: sizing. Ok, so I get that babies come in all sizes, and that mine is Sized Surprisingly Petite, but this snowsuit is for 0-3 months. (3-week-old baby included for scale.)

Right? Huge. IS SHE GOING TO GET THAT MUCH BIGGER in the next two months? Time will tell (I mean, maybe? She eats like a baby wolverine.) And then there's other stuff that's probably appropriately sized, but I can't bring myself to believe that she'll ever be that long. Por ejemplo:

So long. Those are some long jimjams. My child, she will never be that long.

Ok and then also, let us play a game called Look At My Baby's Shoes, O.M.G.

RIGHT? And that's not even, I mean, she has like four pairs of slippers as well. Now, when she's crying, I'm all, But Eleanor, how can you be upset? You have SO MANY SHOES. None of which she can wear now because she has eensy feet. BUT!

Shoe-socks. Problem solved.

So that she looks even more like a banker.

2012-01-21T17:01:00.000-08:00

She is still, obviously, the world's most beautiful baby etc etc etc, but she's developed a weepy stink-eye (it is probably a clogged tear duct and I am hot-compressing the shit out of it) and a receding hairline.

I still love her a lot, I just make fun of her more.

The family resemblance is strong in this one.

2012-01-18T11:02:00.000-08:00

She comes by it honestly.

Because we think we're the ones with the power.

2012-01-17T14:27:00.000-08:00

I know they're just farts right now but when this baby activates her social smiles?

We will all be putty. PUTTY. And don't think she won't be using her talents for deviousness and plots.

practices plotty-fingers

This is the same one, I'm sure of it.

2012-01-13T17:36:00.000-08:00

Her feet are the weirdest. I mean, they're weird because they're still scaly and the toes look too long, like freaky accidental monkey feet, but they're mostly weird because they were the one body part I could identify when she was On The Inside. I'd be poking her and be like, This is maybe a shoulder? And this is the bum? Or a Braxton-Hicks contraction. But THIS. This is a foot.

That and the hiccups, which she gets ALL THE TIME. And maybe it's because I had a c-section and didn't push her out myself, and maybe it's because I was SUPER-HIGH during that c-section and don't remember much of it, but it took a while for her to feel like she was mine and not just some baby I'd been given to look after for a minute. But she'll be nursing and then she'll kick me in the gut with her too-long-toed scaly foot, and then careen off into a round of hiccups like a tiny drunk, and I'm all, Ah yes. I remember you.

It GROWS!

2012-01-11T15:43:00.000-08:00

Awww, remember when she was this tiny?

(She still is. That picture is from this morning.)

Our neighbors had their baby a week before we had ours, and over the many hurdles of navigating two newborns we managed to bring the post-fetuses together the other day.

You could say they hit it off.

Felix looks huge next to Eleanor. I mean, he's almost twice her age and weighs probably a pound and a half more. And so I look at him and think, she is going to be that big in a week. She is going to be huge, and I'm not going to notice until I try to put her in her pink jimjams with the ducky feet and she doesn't fit.

We never thought she'd be so tiny. We were convinced she'd be an enormous Krueger-baby, especially since I fed her all those second-suppers and third-desserts on the cruise. But lo, we had to return to the store for the newborn diapers, because the infant diaps were ridiculous large on her. And lo, the only things that fit her are a handful of tiny sleepers from my sister's mother-in-law, and one that I borrowed from Robyn. And lo! She hath already gained a full pound from her hospital discharge weight! We'll fill in all that extra skin yet.

We went out!

2012-01-09T18:54:00.000-08:00

Nobody died! Or got overdue fines.

I am winning at life.

Feeding another human is my superpower.

2012-01-08T11:50:00.000-08:00

So, breastfeeding. It's weird, right? No, I'm doing it right now and I'm telling you that it's weird. Your argument is invalid.

And after the obligatory difficulties and frustrations and minor meltdowns, El feeds alright. She spits up like a bandit, which I guess is pretty par. But every time she does, I am simultaneously like, Gross, that was inside me, and DUDE, I MADE THAT FOR YOU AND YOU ARE WASTING IT.

Also, all her best faces are feeding faces, and they are difficult to capture without also exposing you to Unnecessary Boob. Like the Pirate Eye, above. It's always the top eye, and she'll watch me suspiciously, as though she thinks I'm going to whip the boob away just as she's getting going. Or the Feeding Frenzy:

This is her starving face. This is the face that says, I HAVE OVER-NAPPED AND MUST DINE. It is my favorite face.

Also hilarious are The Crocodile (it involves air-chomping) and The Wild Boar (like The Crocodile, but with snorts).

Well-preserved

2012-01-06T11:46:00.000-08:00

Joel and I got iPhones just in time. This is going to be the most well-documented baby on the planet, and when her siblings later ask why there aren't as many photos of them total as there are of day-old El, we'll say Because mama and daddy didn't get new phones three days before you were born. But here, have a hologram of yourself (I am apparently having my next baby in 2114).

And I couldn't be more pleased, because the thing is growing already. YOU FEED IT AND IT GROWS. Science! We had a doctor's appointment yesterday and she's already gained back an ounce from her hospital weight. An ounce. What a precocious fatty.

I mean, maybe she'll be petite forever, but she is more likely to develop elegant neck rolls for me to wipe the milk out of (she drinks like a frat boy, but she also holds her drink like a frat boy, which is to say, in her lap), and as much as I'm looking forward to filling out the wrinkles in her elephant legs (fat babies are the cutest babies), I know I'm going to want to remember her skinny-chicken-wing stage.

All of which is to say, many diaper-clad photos.

I have been sliced and diced.

2012-01-04T15:15:00.000-08:00

Ok so the c-section. I always joked that I'd totally end up having one, because Krueger babies are LARGE babies (Joel was 10 lbs 2 and his little sister was ALMOST 12 LBS) and they have large heads and I am regular-sized, particularly about the hips. But Dr Ross kept telling me I was having a nice, medium-sized baby and now we see her with her skinny chicken wings and teeny round head and I think, I could have pushed that out.

And I'd been in prodromal labor for a week by the time we went into the hospital on Saturday morning, and even though I was having surrious contractions I wasn't dilated at all, so they sent us home to go have a shower and watch more Parks & Rec. When we came back hours later and I was all EGADS MY WOMB IT RENDS ITSELF I was still only dilated maybe a centimeter. What I'm saying is, things were progressing slowly.

Anywert, when my water finally broke there was meconium (i.e. baby poops) in the fluid, which means that something has happened to give her the Stressed Poos in there. It's not usually a big deal, but she also had a heart deceleration, which put everyone on the alert.

When she had another heart deceleration and I was only dilated 3 cm, probably still 10 hours or so from delivering, they decided to go in and fetch her out before her heart rate plummeted and stayed down. One prefers an orderly, leisurely c-section to a c-section in which people are shouting things like 'stat.'

I was super-high for all of this because they had given me some sleeping pills when they'd sent me home and I am a notoriously slow metabolizer of drugs (I was Incredibly Sentient for my entire wisdom-tooth-extraction but have completely misplaced the hour that followed). I am also really wonky when it comes to being prodded and sliced, pain entirely aside, but the pills made me flippant and probably inappropriately blithe.

They also make my memories of that whole day a little hazy, but I remember being distinctly relieved when they announced a baby girl. Every store clerk and aqua-fit senior since I started to show has told me that I was carrying a boy, and sketchy Russian ultrasound techs that you find on the internet can be wrong. Joel went to cut the cord and then brought her back to me, swaddled and weirdly alert, so that I could kiss her face. Most of my skin-parts were behind the blue curtain being manhandled, so he held her cheek to my cheek until they took me away.

Then the pills kicked in and I slept and awoke in recovery, and this is the worst part about the c-section, worse than the stitches and the inability to roll over in bed or lift my baby out of the bassinet, because I missed the introductions. I missed everyone meeting Eleanor and my parents seeing their first grandbaby and this may be the hormones speaking (my hormones are loud and clamouring) but if I keep thinking about this I'll cry. I cried in recovery because everyone was out in the waiting room and my baby was in the nursery and they wouldn't let me leave until I could move my legs and feel the ice packs.

So I lied. I lied about feeling the ice packs, and I moved one leg voluntarily and the other out of sheer perversity, because it was still completely numb, and then they let me go. I had a 3-person room, because who can afford private rooms these days, but I had it to myself so there was plenty of room for all the freshly-minted grandparents and aunties and uncles to visit.

And then they brought me my baby and I held her and kissed her skinny chicken neck. It is her kissablest part, out of many kissable parts.

'Bout time.

2012-01-03T14:29:00.000-08:00

So, if we're not facebook friends and you don't follow Joel's one-track Instagram feed, you might not be aware, but we figured that since we didn't have any really thrilling New Year's Eve plans that we'd go ahead and have this baby.

Eleanor Constance Loretta, 6 lbs 9 oz

I'd blog the whole thing chronologically, but you guys know how little the parents of newborns sleep (or you've read enough STFU Parents to know and also I'm putting all of you an alert to warn me when I become That Parent. Cool?) so I'm a little scattered.

So let's just go with what I remember right now, which is that she was super-accommodating and came on New Year's Eve, so that I could go to All The Holiday Things without having to bring her and my huge, weird boobs (I have huge, weird boobs now) and my c-section incision and my inability to walk around gracefully.

She was pulled out squalling at 4:12 pm, so that everyone could come check her out and coo over her and still make their evening plans, but no one (not even me) had to get up at, like, 2 am to go into contractions or catch her or anything.

Coming on New Year's Eve also meant that Joel still had two days off school and could hang out with us in the hospital all day Sunday and then bring us home on Monday (ps: I would like to go on record saying that Joel has been amazing, and that you should all be so lucky).

Well done, El. Please be this compliant when you are 15 and I want you to get your ass to school on time.

Things I Am Excited About

2011-12-21T15:35:00.000-08:00

Or, Reasons I Don't Want To Have This Baby Yet, Because Doing Things Is Way Easier With Her In Self-Watering Mode:

Lunch with our friends Grayson and Caley tomorrow, whom we have not seen since, I'm going to say, July.

Dinner with our friends Carl and Anna and their two hilarious children tomorrow (Gemma makes me feel like I am Very Good With Children, when really she is just Very Good With Adults).

Lunch on Friday with my Fun Friend Alicia Who Is Going To Med School Far Away, as well as Anna (again! So much Anna!) and Fritha who I haven't seen since, oh, let's say, September.

Probably we will go for at least one walk along the Vedder River, which is lovely and weirdly full of eagles (the walk, not the river).

Christmas Eve service, in which we try to find a Church That Doesn't Butcher The Carols In The Name Of Cool, Because We Just Want To Sing Along And Don't Care For Your Guitar Soloing.

Chinese food after the Christmas Eve service, in which we cheerfully complain about the carols and the butchering thereof.

Stockings on Christmas morning. Also, Joel's mom's eggs benedict.

Spiral ham for Christmas dinner. Ham is disgusting, people. It is slimy and fleshy and tastes like undercooked bacon. The only serviceable ham is a spiral ham, and that is TO DIE for.

More presents on Boxing Day morning. Also, my mom's eggs benedict. With leftover spiral ham. And probably we will watch Spartacus or Planet of the Apes or The Ten Commandments or whatever else Charlton Heston movie is on A&E.

Extended Joel-family gathering on the 27th, in which there will be mashed yams with cheese, and carol singing.

Extended my-family gathering on the 28th, in which there will be that game where you steal the presents and everyone is ruthless about it.

New Year's Eve.

And then ok yes, we can have a baby.

The festivus beginneth!

2011-12-20T13:08:00.000-08:00

I know, sometimes this blog devolves into Things I Ate While I Did Stuff. But you know how I feel about holidays (hungry), so don't expect that to change soon.

Joel came home Saturday and we went to the German Christmas market with his family and he had the currywurst and I had the weisswurst which I NEVER would have ordered if I'd been looking at it because it is The Zombie Hot Dog (i.e. it is dead-flesh-colored) so I will spare you a photo but it was veal and pork and that is DELICIOUS and instead, here is a nutcracker.

And then Joel had a pretzel and I had a waffle on a stick because I make more delicious choices.

And then we took this photo, which we take every year.

Tradition! And then we had a baked apple YOU GUYS. Baked apples. With hot vanilla sauce. Somebody bring me another one.

And I sampled some pickled garlic and it was weirdly amazing and I WASN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT SO.

And then last night we went to the VanDusen Botanical Garden Festival of Lights with my family and Joel and I had never been and it was OVERWHELMING.

But festively. Lights!

And music!

And mini-donuts and cider and hot chocolate!

And the Mistletoe Monster!

Let the non-stop celebrating continue apace!

New Bewts.

2011-12-17T11:18:00.000-08:00

I needed new Serious Business Boots because my old ones

(these ones)

have lost a lot of the insides and now they eat my ankles and make me bleed. So.

I freaking love Sorels. I can't even tell you. But Serious Business Boots are for the three times a year it snows plus the one time it sleet-snows and then the one time we go sledding. I cannot spend $200 on boots on the best of days, let alone boots I wear five times a year (for the next forever).

But then today I was in the Old Navy picking up a Christmas gift and I saw a decently Sorel-ly pair for $70.

$70 is still too much. YOU GUYS. So much money. But I thought to myself, I will wait until Boxing Week and I will remember that these are here and then I will come back and hope they still have my size.

And then I saw the All Boots 60% Off sign.

$27 is ok by me. Let it snow now.

They can't all be winners.

2011-12-16T13:33:00.000-08:00

I'm starting to think my Pies and Tarts cookbook might be kind of terrible. Every recipe I've made from it so far has been either DIFFICULT or LABOR-INTENSIVE, and none of them has been azmazing.

The Crème Brûlée Tart was no exception, and what's WORSE is that if they'd thrown in one extra step, it would have been a thousand times easier and there'd be less brûlée on the bottom of the oven. Oooh, and it would be in the tart still, which would help with the crust-brûlée ratio!

action shot! I am badass at stuff

Because ultimately, the crust is just there to operate as an edible bowl, not to equal half the dish. Maybe I need a deeper tart pan.

Regardless, it was very pretty

and easier to serve up than a traditional brûlée

but sacrificed the this-is-just-custard-and-sugar simplicity that makes brûlée So Very Good.

(This is not to say that I didn't come home and eat the last piece just now, or that I didn't enjoy it. It's EGGS and CREAM and SUGAR and then you TORCH it. Come on.)

I could brûlée all day.

2011-12-15T16:35:00.000-08:00

My Fun Friend Alicia got into med school, which is awesome for her but terrible for me because she got into med school in the Caribbean (which, despite sounding like earning a degree online, is Actually Legit) and takes off very shortly, leaving me with fewer fun people within shouting distance.

Anywert, I took her to Pied-à-Terre for Fancy French Appies and Fancy French Desserts to celebrate and she had never had crème brûlée so we fixed that. And at one point she's like, Amazing, obviously, but is this a particularly good crème brûlée and I was like, Well, yes, but it's almost never bad. It's baked custard, for crying out loud, with a burnt sugar crust.

And then last night my book club met at the Six Acres Café in Gastown and, after our usual poutine and popcorn and mac & cheese (with a gorgonzola hot pot thrown in for variety) we turned to the desserts. And there were five of us in the Dessert Camp and five desserts on the menu, so we got One Of Each.

Whatever, you love pictures of my food. They are, from top left, a crème brûlée (obvs), a lemon tart with whipped cream and raspberry coulis, a sundae with dulce de leche and candied nuts, chocolate cookies with caramel whipped cream, and the feature dessert, a cranberry-apple streusel on a custard base.

elapsed time: 38 seconds

Myarm.

I had planned dessert for tonight's Thursday Night Dinner earlier in the week and I see no point in changing it, even though it's a Crème Brûlée Tart. All the custardy burnt sugarness of crème brûlée in an easy-to-serve buttery crust. I'll let you know how that goes.

The indignity.

2011-12-11T10:00:00.002-08:00

When I want to roll over in bed, I have to slide a hand under my belly and flip myself like a pancake.

I get that if I had a car I wouldn't have this problem.

2011-12-05T09:12:00.000-08:00

Dear bus driver,

I'm sure, as a bus driver, that you know a lot about driving the bus. But as someone who TAKES the bus, I know a lot about taking buses, and I'm not totally sure you do.

I'm not sure you know, for example, that the bus you are driving is, for most of the people on that bus, the sole way they have of getting where they are going. Like work. Or class. Or aqua-fit. And I'm not sure you realize that if you drive a fairly infrequent bus, like the 110, the ramifications for you not picking up a passenger are slightly more dire than if you drive, say, the 99, which comes every two minutes. Waiting an extra half hour makes you LATE for shit.

And I'm not sure you realize that my aqua-fit class is what keeps me from feeling bad about all those scones I ate yesterday. NOW I HAVE TO FEEL BAD ABOUT THOSE SCONES, bus driver.

And I get that your bus was full-ish, but the bus at this time is ALWAYS full-ish. Every other bus driver has found a way to pull over and let me on. Usually they get on the horn and ask everyone to move back because, and you might be new to this, there is always room at the back of the bus. The back of the bus is like Northern Saskatchewan.

Next week the pool near my house re-opens, and I can get there on my own legs and will no longer need your bus-driving services.

Checking things off.

2011-11-30T21:40:00.000-08:00

I scratched 'eat a wild animal' off of my life list tonight, although the elk that I ate was almost certainly not wild. I would still like to eat something that was, you know, shot the other day, but this was a tasty start.

Crows are the bats of the bird family.

2011-11-26T21:06:00.000-08:00

Back when I used to do zumba (so, last week. I think I am probably done now) I would meet Alicia at the gas station and we would drive out to Surrey for class, and I was always one bus early to meet her because I am COMPULSIVELY PUNCTUAL so I always have ten minutes or so to wait and it would always be right at Crow Time.

I couldn't even begin to capture how many crows, because I would just keep showing you the same photo over and over and being like, and this is ten seconds later, and this is ten seconds after that.

It seriously looks like this from the time I get there to the time I leave. It isn't even a murder, it's a MURDER of murders. THOUSANDS of crows, I can't even. Where are they going?

It's secretly kind of awesome.

Loan saga.

2011-11-19T08:47:00.000-08:00

I FILED AWAY my Repaying Student Loans file yesterday because I have been APPROVED for not making any payments out of our non-income for the next six months. VICTOIRE!

But. So you can't apply for repayment assistance until you have signed your loan consolidation form, but even though I went online and changed our address last summer WELL before we moved, they still sent the loan consolidation form to Victoria. When I phoned in September to see where it was, I changed my address again with the girl on the phone, and they re-sent the form.

To Victoria again.

I phoned a few weeks later to see where it was, and changed my address AGAIN, and then phoned back two days later to make sure it had been sent to the right address. MEANWHILE. I filled out the application form for repayment assistance, wrote the required letter explaining how I live on no income, and FAXED these things in along with a void cheque.

The void cheque is important, because the application was first and the void cheque was last and the letter was IN THE MIDDLE, but when I phoned a few days later to check on the status of my application (I became an extremely diligent phoner) they were all, We just need a letter explaining how you live on no income. And I was like, DUDES I SENT IT. And I can see losing the tail end of something or the first page of something but you think the stuff in the middle is safe.

Anywert, I faxed it off again, received my loan consolidation form, mailed that PRIORITY because by now it was late October and my repayment period began in November, and tracked it. I sent it on a Monday, CanadaPost marked it as having arrived on the Wednesday, I phoned in on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to see if it had arrived.

On Friday she was still telling me that a form takes two business days to make it into my file, and that even though almost three full business days had elapsed, I should phone back on Monday. Monday arrived, NO FORM! So I talked to a supervisor and he gave me a fax number and I faxed in the duplicate copy I had been sent for my files, waited two days, and phoned in again.

FOR THE FIRST TIME I talked to a gal who is like, No, neither of your forms are here, and that is weird. Damn right it's weird. Because I MAILED one and FAXED one and STOP LOSING MY STUFF THIS IS IMPORTANT. My payments are $700/month, and (needless to say) without an income I cannot make them.

So the helpful gal acquired me a new supervisor who was like, This has been happening to a few people. But here, fax it to THIS fax number RIGHT NOW, and I will go STAND BY THE MACHINE and when it comes through I will mark it as received in your file, and then forward it on to the appropriate parties.

So I DID and the next day I phoned in and ALL THE PARTS OF MY APPLICATION WERE THERE. I did a hooting dance and sat down to wait the five business days for it to process, which expired YESTERDAY at which point I received a letter informing me that I will not have to make any payments until April, at which point I can feel free to perform the whole song and dance again.

I will take it, and gladly.

She is ruining my hilarious old-people time.

2011-11-18T13:14:00.000-08:00

Ok so I've been doing Aqua-fit because LOLZ and also because I like cookies + not being fat, which ultimately = exercise.

ANYway. My pool is closing for three weeks, which is a side-complaint and not the point, and today was my last class before the closure, and it was taught by THAT GIRL THAT I DON'T LIKE. Because there's the ONE girl who teaches every day at 9:30, so whichever days I decide to go I go in that time slot because she is excellent.

And then last Friday because of the holiday but also THIS Friday because WHO KNOWS that OTHER girl was teaching, and ok. The one girl trusts me to not over-exert myself, and will be like, You can do this or to make things harder you can do this. The other girl will be like, If you aren't feeling up to it today, or if you are pregnant, you can do this. Otherwise, do this.

And the things she assumes I can't do are weirdly things that I can TOTALLY do, like frog-jumps (you...uh...you jump? And bring your legs up to either side like a frog? You basically leap-frog the water). Frog-jumps were custom-made for the bellied, because your legs go to the sides where your belly is not. But then during the ab work, she says to me, If this is too difficult for you then you can just lie back and bring your knees into your chest when HAHA CLEARLY I CANNOT. That is, in fact, one thing I can't do. Your eyes should be able to tell you that.

Which, ok, aqua-fit is what they tell you do to when you are pregnant. ERGO, part of the training probably has to do with How To Deal With The Pregnant. My first class with the girl I like, she comes to me beforehand and is like, When we're doing this you can do it this way or that way, and here's how you can work around your belly, and make sure you stay in the deeper water to cushion your girth, etc. But this OTHER girl has no idea what to do with this Pregnant Thing in her class (I think I stress her out a little), and also does not understand basic physics.

But when she looks right at me and is like, If you are pregnant don't do this, I feel bad being like, I know better than you, child. Which is how I would feel if I just did the thing anyways, so I usually do squats or whatever she tells me to do, even though doing squats in the water is the NEXT CLOSEST THING TO DOING NOTHING. And I must give her A Look because today she's like, After you have that baby you can do all the frog-jumps you want.

ALSO her routines are super-boring, because she only has, like, six moves and we just do them over and over, AND she's not loud enough to be heard over the music, AND she doesn't shout motivationally at us, AND she doesn't wear a sports bra under her bathing suit so I sort of feel bad for her boobs whenever she's demonstrating things out of the water. But mostly its the squats I hate.

Six weeks and counting.

2011-11-15T21:06:00.000-08:00

When I get my body back (and not, like, my sexy body, but the body of which I am the sole inhabitant) I will:

- drink a beer
- dye my hair
- do a sit-up
- eat all manner of dubious street-meats
- and what else?

I am doing terribly at this.

2011-11-13T17:34:00.001-08:00

Yesterday we did All The Things and then today we had All The People over to watch the footballs. Also, I MADE footballs.

They were filled with oreo. And cream cheese.

You wish.

Still good!

2011-11-11T22:08:00.000-08:00

Sneaking in with an eleventh-hour post! Look at me nablopomo. Except that I have nothing really to tell you. Um. Oh yes, I am WINNING at LIFE. I will tell you about my student loan saga another day when I'm not so sleepy, but so the dishwasher was leaking for REASONS UNKNOWN and the threat of hand-washing loomed LARGE but I fixed it. And by 'fixed it' I mean my dad figured out the problem, and the problem was me, and I am MUCH MORE EASILY FIXED than a dishwasher.

I will carry on being reckless with the number of forks I use.

I cannot handle the TINY-NESS of these things.

2011-11-10T08:20:00.000-08:00

On Sunday my mom threw the fetus a party, and my aunties and my cousins came, and my in-laws and my sister and her in-laws, and my neighbor and her daughter and my Robyn (between two night shifts) and my Laura (who drove all the way from Abbotsford) and now the fetus has enough party dresses to last her at least a year.

Gifts ranged from the practical

to the delightfully impractical

and if she ends up accidentally being a he, he is going to have nothing to wear. Except maybe this leopard-print number.

There's something about tiny hats and tiny shoes, because people can't not buy them. I now have loads of both, and I will not complain because AIEEE SO TINY. Also, I want to roll around in a heap of swaddling blankets.

Mum asked the internet what our babies would look like, and the internet spat out THIS, which is why you never ask the internet anything.

I was looking at these pictures later with Joel, and I was like, Holy cats, I am so pregnant. Because I can't usually see myself except top-down, and from up here my belly is overshadowed by my ridiculous breasts. But lo, I am pregnant indeed.

7 more weeks(ish), yo.

NaBloPoMo Redux

2011-11-09T20:58:00.000-08:00

Hee hee, oh my. THAT lasted a whopping day before I fell off the wagon.

And now it's late and I am a-sleepy, but I will have an actual post for you tomorrow. For now, rest easy in the knowledge that deep-fried pickles are not just a gimmick

but are, in fact

ridiculicious.

(This is not just the pregnancy talking, as even the girl who doesn't like pickles liked the deep-fried pickles. The smoked-jalapeno ranch probably helped.)

A week late, a dollar short.

2011-11-07T10:57:00.000-08:00

Remember, remember in past Novembers when the NaNoWriMo people have written a novel in a month and we NaBloPoMo people have contented ourselves with blog-posting every day for a month? I had sort of forgotten about that until just right now, but! Let's give it a go, yes?

It balances out all the mini-Oh Henry!s I have eaten/am about to eat.

2011-11-01T16:43:00.000-07:00

I have been doing Zumba with a girlfriend for the past four weeks or so, since right around the time when I had to stop running, and it. is. hilarious. It's mostly made up of very sexy dance moves, or straight-up aerobic moves scuttled to look like very sexy dance moves (at one point Alicia and I turn to each other and are like, We are not fooled. These are just jumping jacks).

And any chance I had of being uncomfortable doing sexy dance moves in a well-lit, highly-mirrored room on a Tuesday morning is eradicated by the company I keep (several older Asian women, occasionally one dude in his late 40s who obviously comes with his wife, two East Indian women who have got to be in their 50s) and by my hilarious belly. I have added at least a quarter of my former self ONTO myself and am splendidly large. It makes my boob-shimmy highly effective.

ALL THAT TO SAY Alicia works Tuesdays now, and while I could feasibly bus my way out to Surrey for Zumba, I am much more likely to hit up the Aqua-fit just up the road. AQUA-FIT! I used to aqua-size with a girlfriend when I went to UBC, and we would laugh about having the corner on the young, able-bodied, non-pregnant market. NO MORE. Now it's just seniors and the slightly infirm and my fat self.

And everyone says that being in water when you are massively pregnant (seriously. Massive. I have two more months bigger to get HOW IS THIS PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE) helps take the strain off your back and they are not wrong. I am buoyant. However. No one mentions the sudden and debilitating resurgence of gravity when you get out of the pool. I have never felt so heavy in my life.

I have a real doctor, but she's way over there.

2011-10-26T15:20:00.000-07:00

I don't know what pregnant women did before The Googles. The search terms I have googled in conjunction with 'pregnancy' are legion, and mostly disgusting. Some of the lesser-embarrassing ones include 'pregnancy and nosebleeds' (super-common!), 'pregnancy and migraine auras' (not terribly uncommon!), 'pregnancy and losing an eyebrow' (commoner than you'd think!).

And I knew that lower back pain was a thing (because come on, these boobs. If I were my lower back I'd be a jerk about it, too), but I've been having extremely localized pain in my mid-upper right back.

'pregnancy and mid-upper back pain'...hey, that's totally a thing! Except everyone is like, Yes! I have that! And my doctor doesn't know what to do about it! So looks like we'll just have to suffer through, ladies!

And then a few of them are all, It's trapped gas, or a pinched nerve. At any rate, do X and Y to try to expand your rib cage, and that should help.

It helps. Thanks, Dr Googles.

Sunshiiiiiiiiiiine

2011-10-16T08:38:00.000-07:00

Stanley Park was lovely yesterday.

And adorably verminous.

Oh look, a Lost Lagoon!

Oh look, more beasties I should probably not want to cuddle with my face, but do!

Queen of Tarts

2011-10-14T13:27:00.000-07:00

We had Thanksgiving last night because, as I have mentioned previously, my family cares little when the actual holiday is, and because Joel and I were in Whistler on actual-Thanksgiving with his family (Whistler on a sunny day is puppy-central and I petted all the ones).

Ok and at BEA I picked up this Pies and Tarts cookbook:

It's round (der) and every page spread has a recipe on the left and then a PICTURE OF THE ENTIRE PIE on the right. I freaking love food pictures (and you are like, Really.), so I also got this cookbook in the Pizzas edition (same deal, but pizzas). It was so hard for me to not grab All The Cookbooks at BEA because even though I don't really USE them (I have an internetz, after all), I find them so aesthetically pleasing.

Anywert, yesterday I pulled out my Pies and Tarts to find something to make for dessert, finally settling on a chocolate mousse tart. Chocolate mousse, I could drink you with a spoon!

Also, there were raspberries at the store, and they did not cost a million moneys.

But ok, the mousse part took, like, an hour, and had eleventy ingredients, and there was a lot of stirring in a double boiler over barely simmering water, and whipping and folding in and then whipping of other things and folding those in, and it was very delicious but very rich and also the recipe made maybe twice as much as necessary.

I'm not totally sure what to do with all that leftover mousse.

And then the frostingy bit to go 'round the outside was just whipped cream with cocoa powder and some powdered sugar. It took maybe three minutes, and was nothing like as heavy, OH AND ALSO WAS AMAZING.

What I'm saying is, for lazier days I will definitely just whip some three-ingredient faux-mousse and pour it on an oreo crust. Hey presto.

Edited to add: tart was very good yesterday, but exponentially better the next day. Maybe because I haven't spent the previous three hours 'sampling for quality' and 'making myself sick.'

Closed on Mondays, but open Tuesdays.

2011-10-06T15:16:00.000-07:00

I haven't had all the donair in Victoria, but I feel safe saying that The Donair Shop does indeed have the best donair in all of Victoria.

In hopefully unrelated news, the amount I can slouch without my boobs resting on my belly is approaching nil.

Before she's even on the outside.

2011-10-04T09:49:00.000-07:00

Totally annoyed with the baby last night for the first time (discounting those 'Lousy baby, can't have a beer' and 'Lousy baby, can't lie face-down' and 'Lousy baby, shoving all my stomach acid into my esophagus' moments) because I was awake at 3 (as one is) and she wouldn't calm. down.

Like, after I drank the Toxic Diabetes Juice (To Test For Diabetes, But Kind Of Also To GIVE You Diabetes) yesterday, it was like popcorn popping in there. And I dig. You have just had your first taste of candy-for-breakfast, you clearly need to climb some walls. (Uterine walls. Ugh. Sorry.)

But in the middle of the night you need to settle for a few desultory kicks, maybe a bit of backstroke. Mostly, though, you could practice sleeping. And then *I* could be sleeping.

Victoria, I have missed your face.

2011-09-29T10:21:00.000-07:00

I have been in Victoria for four days and have hiked Mt Doug three times. Because it is Victoria, it usually rains on us while we are hiking, and then by the time I've gotten home and showered it looks like this:

Victoria is a contrary beast.

When I'm not hiking, I go for a lot of coffee. Or Erika (the woman at whose house we are staying) and I go for lunch. I should have asked her years ago for eating advice, because she knows all the good places, like the alleged best donair place in town (it is tragically closed on Mondays. We may go there next week, or I may never confirm it's 'best donair' status). At any rate, we had to settle for a smoked meat sandwich and poutine, which we shared, obviously. I mean, come on.

La Belle Potate, you guys. Serves mainly truckers and mechanics and hungry pregnant women. Will give you extra pickles if you appear to be gestating. The non-small poutine seemed like a mistake, but upon further reflection (the next day at lunch, while we ate the leftovers crisped up in the toaster oven) was probably the right idea.

In which I catch you up.

2011-09-23T17:29:00.000-07:00

Mes amis, I have been neglecting you. It has been...busy is the wrong word. Full, maybe.

I went to see Robyn and Meredith and to pick Robyn's brain re: car seats and cribs, and to nibble on Meredith's fat baby arms. Also, we had pulled pork. Lucky for the arms.

I went to see my doctor and am still pregnant and appropriately fat, which counts as a successful visit in my books.

Anna came to visit and I picked HER brains re: post-maternity boobs, and we each bought a lovely blue-and-white-striped dress, which I will wear as a shirt. One day I will do a post for you on my regular-clothes-as-maternity-clothes, because it's been working out well.

Also, I bought fat-pants.

They are comfortable like I can't even tell you. And yet? Most of me is still like Ugh, pants. So I also bought leggings in a larger size, as to not have two waists. Leggings-and-dresses feels very like the leggings-and-oversized-shirts of my childhood, only classier.

Have I mentioned that the family (boo and Darren, Matt and Gillian) all comes over for dinner on Thursdays? And that company requires dessert? Someone, possibly Amy Sedaris, compared raw ground beef to a woman putting on her stockings, i.e. it is the stage of the process that you should never let anyone see, because it taints the final product. I feel that way about a lot of steps in food-making. Like, no one needs to see the cinnamon buns when they are just a sheet of dough slathered in butter, with my hands all up in them (what. You don't use your hands to spread the butter?). Even seeing them at this stage is a bit deterring.

But there are about thirty seconds between them coming out of the oven and them being eaten, and those thirty seconds are required to frost them. Besides, the lighting is bad then anyways.

Mum and I went to Target today. I freaking love Target. I have mostly been subsisting on non-maternity wear because maternity clothes are expENsive and also they come in sad colors and make me sad, unless they are LIZ LANGE FOR TARGET! Target, why you no come to Canada? You better re-make the hell out of those Zellerses you bought.

Also? Someone bought teeny pink polka-dotted shoes. I'm not going to name any names, but it sure wasn't me. Yet.

We stopped at Five Guys Burgers on the way home, and somehow I missed the memo about the 'regular' burger being a double.

Mum got the 'little burger' in the background. It was regular-burger-sized. The fries were nothing to write home about

but the burgers tasted like being invited over by someone who is very good at bbq, and also has an enormous condiment-and-toppings table. Also, my burger was, like, five dollars.

Now I am packing to go to Victoria for two weeks, and Joel is coming home tomorrow, and it is highly likely that I will nap between now and bedtime.

It is a wide and varied place.

2011-09-18T16:38:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to the Richmond night market, which is all fried squid heads

and mushroom shoots wrapped in beef strips

and pork ~~brains~~ sui mai

and scallops with wasabi mayo

and steamed buns filled with pulled pork

and incongruous cowboys

and smoke and haze and shouting and rain.

And then this morning I went to the Granville Island market, which is all $110 handmade totes and paperies and hats with tulle and carefully-stacked fruits.

And I ate fried treats at each.

Moar shelves, please.

2011-09-15T10:12:00.001-07:00

Wherever we set up camp, I like to have my Big Red Chair by my bookshelves so that I can use the shelves as a series of side-tables. This is why we never have any clean mugs in the house.

It's also why I can never find any of my rings.

That one shelf is filthy because it's where I store my feet when I'm not using them.

I have been a crafty fish

2011-09-14T17:10:00.000-07:00

I have been alchemizing some things. Ok so yes, I am turning me and Joel into me, Joel, and a third person, but that is a very hands-free activity.

Hands-wise, in my spare time I have turned this pile of fabric

into this jaunty skirt

and this pile of fabric

into this sack-like dress

which I patterned after this dress

which I bought in Turkey and whipped on one day, figuring I could still wear it since IT IS A SACK, before realizing that even sacks have their limits. And then also this dress which I could never solve the boobs of

into this skirt, which has no boobs at all

and a bunch of bibs and babs into this necklace

and an old sheet into this pillowcase for my much-beloved body pillow.

And also, I've been lugging around my booze-bottles-full-of-change from when I worked at Red Robin, both because I liked the way they looked and because I was too lazy to roll them.

I always said to myself that one day I'd be poor and pregnant and have no money for clothes, and that I'd roll them then, and LO! Here we are. So I turned this (the birdhouse is full of quarters. Not full, because I used to raid it for bus fare, but full-ish)

into this

and eventually into $187-worth of Things That Fit Me.

I am a freaking wizard.

In the nick.

2011-09-13T17:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was allegedly the last nice day for a while, so we had an impromptu bbq on the beach.

Good thing we got there before the sun went down.

Oh no. Wait. That is the moon.

Burgers ahoy.

Cruisecation: Day Nine

2011-09-12T15:14:00.000-07:00

And then we got up ass-early for expedited ship-leaving, because if you're not off the ship by 7:30 you have to wait and have your bags taken by the stewards and then returned to you later and somewhere else, instead of just hauling them off yourself like a champ.

We had one last tater-totty breakfast at 5:30 and were off the ship by 6:30, at the airport checking our bags by 8 and driving around, looking for anything to be open at 9 on what we'd forgotten was a Sunday, until we finally just went for second-breakfast. Joel and I bought bad-ass neon South Beach souvenirs for his siblings, as one does.

We were weirdly separated on the Miami-Houston flight, with Joel sitting way over there beside a shrieking infant, and me, mom and dad back here behind three drunken, singing hooligans, and Matt and Gillian directly in front of said hooligans and beside a Consummate Chatterer, and boo and Darren somewhere else (in front of the shrieking infant, I believe). It was the worst flight for all of us, but especially Gillian, who had both drunken singing and incessant photo-showing to contend with.

But at least it was the short flight, and at least the flight from Houston to Vancouver was sparsely populated, and at least the limo got us home safely, and at least we managed to squeeze a cruise into the two-week window between when Joel finished school and when Joel started school again, and at least everyone found time off work, and at least this baby is still self-watering. Vive la vacation!

Cruisecation: Day Eight

2011-09-11T12:22:00.000-07:00

This was our last day on the boat, so all of the things we'd planned to do before our cruise was over came a-calling.

Get burgers and fries and onion rings and shakes at Johnny Rockets?

Check.

Ride the carousel?

Check.

Take photos by the expensive car while the photographer is on lunch so that he doesn't charge us to take photos by the expensive car?

Check.

Browse the shops for over-priced souvenirs, including $3000 bottles of whisky?

Check.

Eat at the cupcakery, even though we were already too full to live?

Check. Oh cupcakes, you were such a dry disappointment.

Climb the climbing wall?

Check for everyone who wanted to, except for me because I was too fat to fit into a harness.

Between the burgers and the bottomless onion rings and the cupcakes, I was the least hungry I'd ever been. But that has never deterred me from a pineapple and raspberry soup:

a bacon gnocci:

and a key lime tart.

And then we all went back to our rooms and moaned over our bellies and mournfully packed up our things.

Cruisecation: Day Seven

2011-09-10T15:18:00.000-07:00

Day six, so boring. I mean, so fun to do, so boring to read about. Day seven, so much things!

Ok so we had signed up to go to Chichen Itza because it's one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Rad, right? Except that once we got on the bus, the driver is all, Sad face, Chichen Itza is closed today for political reasons. I mean, we could drive the three hours there just to see if it's open... And everyone was like, Grumble grumble but I paid for Chichen Itza grumble, but in the end we went to Tulum instead and it worked out better, at least for me.

Because it was HOT, you guys. And I am very fat and I generate heat from the inside, and it seems that the fatter I get, the lower my tolerance for being hot gets, so I am always TOO HOT TO LIVE. So while the ruins at Tulum were no Chichen Itza, they were pretty ruinous (and contained, as advertised, muchas iguanas)

AND were immediately adjacent to this:

Like, you come around a corner and BEACH. Some of us pulled off our clothes while we raced to the water, since we had opted for swimsuits instead of underwear (too hot), and some of us just went in in our clothes, and we were all of us immediately less crabby.

Chichen Itza is very inland and, one imagines, breezeless. We will go back one day when I am not so pregnant and it is not so August, maybe. I predict that it, like Tulum (and Greece), will not be Turkey, which is to say we will not be allowed to CLIMB on the ruins and will be disappointed.

We had a few minutes to wander around the market before our bus took off, and boo and I bought sister-skeletons. The guy wanted $30 each but was willing to give us two for $50. We talked him down to giving us both skeletons for $31.

Señor Bones is an avid reader

The ferry from Tulum back to Cozumel played an endless loop of internet-style cat photos, three Irish lasses singing Enya, and a commercial for a '100% monogamy' fragrance that seemed to borrow in all seriousness from Eric Zoolander's 'moisture is the essence of wetness' commercial.

I hadn't been hungry in days, but slothing sweatily around ruins and, more importantly, being off the boat for the day will give you an appetite. Behold my roasted butternut squash, white bean and arugula salad with lime vinaigrette!

Behold my foccacia bread salad with buffalo mozzarella!

But whither the fruit soups today? Alas. Behold instead my insanely delicious and filling spinach and ricotta pasta with pesto and marinara!

And my mile-high lemon meringue tart!

Mom and dad had found a bottle of champagne in their room, which we thought might be due to the Chichen Itza mix-up, but was instead to compensate for the buttons on dad's suit that the laundry people chipped. So we had a champagne party.

the towel-pig drank mine

And then maybe we went for second-dinner at the trough for tempura and cobbler before heading to Blue Planet: The Most Unexplainably Terrible Show On Earth.

I can't even...it was cheesy but not on purpose? The dancing was terrible? The singing was operatic and also terrible? It was made up entirely of singing and dancing, and was therefore completely terrible? A girl came out and sang 'What A Wonderful World,' a song that never needs to be sung again unless it's going to be roughed up a bit, AND changed the first line to 'I see trees that are green' which is somehow even more banal than the original 'trees of green'? Another girl came out in increasingly hideous but all eerily similar Renaissance Fair gowns? Both guy-singers were skeevy? They ruined Higher Ground for me?

And then we all went for a night-swim and laughed about how terrible it had been.

Cruisecation: Day Six

2011-09-09T10:35:00.000-07:00

Cruise day! Naps! Reads! Pools! Drinks! Moving elsewhere for more different naps! Dad met his doppelgänger and they ping-pong-battled for hours!

Literally nothing happened on this day except that I ordered badly for the first time and then did not want my flabby roast beef, so I ate Gillian's moussaka instead, which she did not want because Simon had also brought her a curry, because he was like that.

I also had roasted peach soup

and a disappointing and mis-labelled 'red-berry tart.' I expect my red-berry tarts to be both tart-like and containing red berries! Whatever, Gillian's first order of cherries jubilee came accidentally with almonds, so I ate that as well.

Thank goodness Gillian was there, or else I would have starved (except no, we went for pizza at late hours because we could. And because the potato-chicken pizza was amazing).

Cruisecation: Day Five

2011-09-07T16:29:00.000-07:00

More and then! This post will be light on photos because our day was waterlogged and my camera spent it somewhere else.

Ok so we were told there'd be crepes at Johnny Rockets, and ALL WE WANTED WAS SOMEONE TO MAKE CREPES-TO-ORDER IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK. There were, needless to say, no crepes. Our lives are so hard.

But we were in Jamaica and excursing as a family and so we trooped off to our van, and proceeded to sit in the hot sun for twenty minutes while we waited for two more - who ended up being Joel and me, since we had neglected to offer the girl our tickets when we got on the bus. Sometimes counting is hard.

SPEAKING of counting being hard, the Thing That Tells You What You're Getting Into was all, It's a 20-minute bus ride to the river, but as the van took off, our guide LaTanya was all, This ride will be an hour and two-thirds. And then attempted to entertain us with a lecture on Jamaica's annual rainfall and national flower. We may or may not have been conversating in the back of the bus because NO ONE'S annual rainfall is worth knowing, which prompted our other guide Antoinette to scold, ACTUALLY she is talking, ok?

Jamaican fruit would like you to shut up and listen

Despite this inauspicious beginning, despite a brief but torrential downpour, and despite the Real Housewife in the front row complaining about the smell of her life-jacket and refusing to sign a waver because she wanted to have the option to sue, tubing down a river in Jamaica is as lazy and joyous as you want it to be.

dramatization, but just barely

The staff kept us from bashing into rocks or drifting into the reeds, and SERENADED US with American pop songs, being rather casual with the lyrics. We ambled past wacky trees (I would totally know what kind if I'd been paying attention to LaTanya) and people gutting fish. It was the very best.

From there we went to Dunns River Falls, and in my head this was going to be a hike up to some falls and then a few minutes of Ooohing and plashing and then a hike down, and I was hot and sleepy and not up to trudging. But it was less that and more this:

I mean, minus the monks but plus maybe a thousand people and about half that volume of water. They must scrape the rocks down daily to keep them from accruing slime, because they were sturdy and pleasant to walk on and nobody died.

Since Simon the ace waiter had warned us that, if we wanted a night off from the fancy dining hall, this was the night to take it because the menu wasn't very good, we ate at the Wingaling trough. I went back for deep-fried bananas with caramel sauce more times than I feel is necessary to share with you.

But it was about this many:

We found the front of the boat so we could play Jack and Rose and watched a lightning storm and Matt and Gillian came upon a couple having sexual relations in a hot tub in the solarium, and we swore off of solarium hot tubs forever. The end.

Labor weekend, so laborious.

2011-09-06T12:36:00.000-07:00

I ran 8k, like a boss. The Blackberry Run is actually 8.5k, but .5k of that is a hill, and running hills is for Fools. A handful of girlfriends and I spent the weekend at the one girl's home on Denman Island, where the run is, and let her parents ply us with salmon from the ocean and green beans from the garden while we splashed in the lake.

I hadn't planned to run all 8 of the k's, but at every marker I continued to feel amazing so I kept running. I was going to hang up my kicks after this race but instead I bought a new sports bra.

Half of Denman Island made muffins and chopped fruit for the end-of-race feed, and having been talking trash about vegan everything with Alicia the day before, I accidentally took one of the vegan muffins (I blame karma). It was delicious, and I had to eat my words (and also another muffin).

And then on Monday we went to my aunt and uncle's new cabin, and by 'cabin' I mean 'nicer house than I will ever own.' It sunned on us all day.

Georgie found a cousin-lover.

Dad is still aces at water-skiing.

We ate all the things, and many of the things were cheeses. It was not the worst weekend of my life.

Cruisecation: Day Four

2011-08-30T15:15:00.000-07:00

And then? And then!

Joel and I woke up at 6:30 to watch the boat dock in Haiti (the rest of my family is already up at 6:30, so doing same hardly counts for them) and to eat free room service. It gets an A+ for convenience and timelihood but was sadly devoid of Enough Ketchup For My Hash.

We scooted off the boat for our Snorkeling Adventure, which I blogged about here (as it was on my life-list. For every 'snorkeling' that I check off that list, I add 'attend a masquerade' or some such and The List abides).

Did I mention that Dad brought along walkie talkies for the family? Without which we would have wandered the beach forever looking for boo and Darren, since the only way to NOT DIE on a Haitian beach is to ensconce yourself in a cabana. With your plate(s) of food.

The rest of the afternoon is lost to me in a haze of napping and showering and then probably napping again. I believe dad and Joel went jet skiing? Something watery and adventurous. At any rate, I had a lamb shank for dinner.

And the strawberry bisque to start. Cold fruit soups, who knew you had so many iterations?

And a warm chocolate cake with roasted pears and ice cream, which I would not have had except for our excellent waiter's excellent recommendations (Simon was never wrong), and a raspberry panacotta.

Oh my. And then we took in OceanAria, an amazingly dichotomous show. The acrobatics and high dives and strongmen and whatall were insane, but the dancing girls were, as Joel said, like the music they make you listen to when you're put on hold.

Cruisecation: Day Three

2011-08-27T09:15:00.000-07:00

I told you it would be food-photo-heavy. For breakfastses we ate at an enormous buffet called the Windjammer Cafe but which we referred to alternately as The Wingaling and The Trough. Breakfasts were similarly delicious, ranging from oatmeal with add-ins to waffles with pile-ons. There was always some sort of fried potato bit

and as much as it felt like a waste to be eating tots when there were shrimp omelettes lying untouched, they were the best tots of all tots. I miss you, tots.

We spent our first full cruising day lying pool-side and pool-in

drinking fruited beverages brought to us by the sippy-sippy dudes.

And ok, your room card not only gets you into your room, it is your charge card for things such as pool-side drinks (and exorbitantly-priced sunscreen for mid-week when your bottle runs out), as well as your ticket into free events requiring reservation like all the shows. Did I mention that I lost my room card within five minutes of being on ship? And that they make it idiot-proof, because when any vendor swipes your card they get an image of your face on their screen so even if you lose your card, only someone who looks eerily like you would be able to charge things to it, and only until you realized it was missing and wandered down to Guest Services to get a new one issued, at which point the old one is nullified. Also, they are very jolly about it, because this happens all the time.

Where was I? Oh yes. One can only spend so much of one's day lounging in the sun, especially when one is pasty-colored.

So we played mini-golf, because YOU CAN DO THAT ON THIS BOAT.

Some hooligan nine-year-old hit me in the shin with a ball, but Joel gave him what-for. Where are these kids' parents? Probably drunk by the pool. Anywert. Joel also tried out the wavejammermathing...the faux-wave where you could boogie board (there was also one for surfing).

The rest of us were too wilty or ambivalent or pregnant to try.

For formal dinner I wore the zebra-print dress Joel bought me for my birthday

and had escargots

and a papaya and pineapple soup

and roasted duck with cranberry cabbage

which I resorted to eating with my hands, because knives and bones are difficult

and a double strawberry cheesecake with a chocolate souffle on the side.

And then we cottoned on to the late-night swim (about two days before the rest of the boat did) and went prowling for late-night eatables (there's a sandwiches-and-cakes place open all night, and a pizza joint open until 3) and took our tired selfs to bed. Lying by the pool will wear you out.

Cruisecation: Day Two

2011-08-26T12:27:00.000-07:00

Our hotel promised continental breakfast, which in Canada is toast and maybe jam if you get there early. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the lobby smelled of waffles, on account of the hot waffle griddle and the dispenser of waffle batter, for the purpose of making one's own waffles.

We had some hours in South Beach, which we mostly spent walking said beach and wilting and getting as damp as possible. Our summer in BC has been lackluster, and we are not accustomed to things like sunshine and heat.

Also, we saw Versace's mansion, where he was keelt. The doorman in the black suit (who discreetly stepped out of our picture) looked like he was going to melt.

The bus that was to bring us to the cruise port broke down and all the company had to spare was this limo. No complaints.

Ok and so the boat. The Allure of the Seas is, together with its sister-ship The Oasis of etc, the largest cruise ship asea. It is, you guys, so large. It is a theme park and a city and a shopping mall and a food court and it floats. It has a central park. And a carousel. And a mini-golf course. And a cupcake store. And a hot dog stand, where you can get hot dogs because it is afternoon and you sort of forgot to have lunch and are starving.

So for the first day we had hot dogs and ice cream

and looked at all the things, and planned our future eating and carousel-riding and staggered into dinner a little overwhelmed. And ok. I have never been on a cruise. I have heard you can order All The Entres if you want. This is nuts to me, but I am totally for ordering several appetizers and a few desserts, because THE MENU! She entices. Plus, if there was ever a time to try watermelon gazpacho with celery and cucumber, it's on the hottest of days.

And this may have been the cucumber talking, but it was refreshing as hale. So refreshing that I would try all the cold fruit soups for the rest of the week. Cold fruit soups are frequently just smoothies in a bowl, you guys.

I also had the fancily-named fruit salad

the pork medallions

and the peach and blueberry cobbler with a side of chocolate mousse.

They make the entres smallish so's you can justify two desserts, me thinks. I would eat like this always. And THEN we went and saw Chicago! because cruises have musicals, and then we all did silly vaudeville moves (is any vaudeville not silly?) for the rest of the week.

Cruisecation: Day One

2011-08-25T08:39:00.000-07:00

Shall we? Ok. Our cruisecation began at an hour in which one does not normally choose to get up, when our limo came to fetch us to the airport (because it's actually weirdly cheaper to rent a limo than a van large enough to seat eight people and their luggage)

and continued at an hour in which I am usually still sleeping, in which we spotted both Mattias Ohlund (Canucks defenseman extraordinaire) and Will Wheaton (former Star Trek: The One With Patrick Stewart star and current cameoster on Big Bang Theory) at the airport. Ohlund was on our plane, and I may have brushed his arm.

Some many, many hours later, in which planes were delayed and infants wept, we arrived in Ft Lauderdale and barrelled down the road to our hotel in South Beach. The hotel's location was chosen partially because of its proximity to this:

wherein you are given the impossible task of choosing A Thing To Eat off of this monstrosity:

and end up eating this:

at 1:00 am. Or maybe you get a tuna sandwich and put an onion ring in it, I don't know your life.

PNE!

2011-08-24T19:14:00.000-07:00

Superdogs!

Mini donuts!

For cheap!

For five!

For my belly!

Pulled pork!

Trick motorcyclists!

Cotton candy!

Enormous cattle!

PIGEONS WITH HUMAN LEGS I.E. FODDER FOR MY NIGHTMARES!

DOES! NOT! WANT!

And one more for good measure.

Boxes, boxes everywhere, and not a drop to drink.

2011-08-23T18:18:00.000-07:00

We are semi-unpacked. I still don't know where any of my pants are, and I only just found my cache of socks. But the important bit is done.

That's Señor Bones down on the bottom left, ogling Estella the Lady Skeleton. Sam Skellington is in storage, so the good Señor has roughly eight months to make his move. But he also might be forced to wear Sam's various hats, so it's a bit of win/lose for him.

I have vacation posts (in my brain. Not written. Unpacking makes me nappish) but to tide you over, Joel and I stopped at Pig for pulled pork sandwiches on our way out of Victoria forever.

We will obviously be returning, if only for said sandwiches. If you are of the meat-eating persuasion, and in our province's capital, and in possession of six dollars, make your way to Johnson and Blanshard. They have soda pop in glass bottles as well. I am jealous of my past self.

I just took a 2-hour nap.

2011-08-22T17:53:00.000-07:00

We are home and it is raining and I can't find any PANTS because all of my pants are packed. I had planned to re-wear hastily-washed cruisewear until we unpacked such unnecessaries as pants. But Vancouver has other ideas.

I will have posts. They will be photo-laden, and most of those photos will be of food. Brace your hungry eyes.

Notes on the last day in this house.

2011-08-11T20:13:00.002-07:00

Some people are enterprising and sometimes those people are me. I have made soup out of Things Left In The Fridge. Thanks, Past-Me, for leaving Future-Me the use of a deep enough saucepan. And a knife. And, inexplicably, a bay leaf.

I thought I needed to buy more bobby pins but I really just needed to clean my entire house.

Somebody is going to need a bath after this. But not in my clean bathtub. (Somebody is actually just going to go to sleep with very dirty feet. Probably in the next ten minutes, actually.)

I am not as agile as formerly.

Eat New York!

2011-08-11T09:24:00.000-07:00

You guys! I have been packing! It has been hellish. We won't talk about it.

Instead, I will do a food round-up of our New York trip, which I just now realized I never did and should do otherwise it won't get done and then I will go on a cruise and come back with more food pr0n and forget about this. Everyone knows trips are for eating! So! New York, how we ate you.

(I will be doing this without the aid of my beloved Document, which is now packed. Woe for my memory.)

My sister and I are not mens, and as such we prefer near-constant snacking to several hearty meals. So for the most part we got A Thing and then split that Thing and then a few hours later got another Thing. That way you get to sample more Things. But our first night in NY we were so starved that we each got our own Thing from the pizza place across the way. The pizza slices were 'uge.

Mine had spinach and tomato and a soft cheese which was probably unpasteurized and therefore off-limits for my pregnant self, but mad tasty (and I didn't get listeria, so). Bekah's had broccoli and diced chicken fingers, which SOUNDED TERRIBLE but was excellent (I hear. Chicken was on my no-fly list, and I can still only eat it if I don't have to look at it or think about it. Why you so gross, chicken?).

Our first morning we were all, What does one eat? Because we hadn't yet fallen into the habit of ducking into ANY DELI ANYWHERE and getting scrambled eggs and home fries, or french toast and home fries, or french toast and scrambled eggs and HEAPS OF BACON for, like, $3.25.

So that first jet-lagged morning we ate at Dunkin Donuts and were like, Well now that's done. We made up for it by going to Coney Island later that day and getting hot dogs

and funnel cakes.

We ate loads of tasty street-cart meats (and at least one more hot dog outside the BEA, which was nast and kind of put me off my feed) and no small amount of bagels (which really are better in NY and have forever ruined me for west coast bagels), all of which were delicious and none of which got photographed, because we were busy eating them.

But certain foods were iconically New York and obviously we had to get a soft pretzel in Central Park (it helps that wandering lost through the Met for hours works up an appetite)

and a cheesecake(s) from the bakery around the corner from our hostel.

That bakery was a dangerous sauce, because every night we'd be staggering home, exhausted and maybe a little hungry, and we'd duck into the bakery just to see and we'd walk out with fritters the size of my face.

I already talked about our Mexican extravaganza at Panchitos, so I'll just repost this photo and move on.

What I haven't talked about was Brother Jimmy's BBQ, half a block from our hostel.

We'd walk by there every night on the way home, hungry enough for the bakery but not quite hungry enough for some South in our mouths, but then the day that we got lost in Little Italy (again) we had PLANNED to have dinner there, like a bunch of fore-thinking grown-ups. Getting lost = extra starved = hush puppies to start

and pulled pork to finish

and nothing left on the plates, and every one of the sauces sampled LIBERALLY

and everything was amazing and everyone was happy. We need THAT to be HERE in my FACE. (I would like to point out that there were four pickles and that Bekah ate three of them when I wasn't looking when HALF OF FOUR IS CLEARLY TWO and they were very excellent pickles and I'm still resentful.)

After Brother Jimmy's, what are you going to do, right? Nothing. I can't remember a single thing that we ate after that, except that I had a very disappointing bagel at the airport in Toronto, and that we had quite a good knish at some point after trying to figure out what they were for ages (a deep-fried mashed potato patty. How is that not going to be good?) and that, aside from the Sarah Dessen whoopie pie (azmazing) and the Shel Silverstein black-and-white cookie (disappointing), we also ate some ridiculous tiny cupcakes at a booth that asked if we were a small business, and that nearly half the booths had candy out in the first few days and we lived kind of mostly off that for a while, and that none of our airlines fed us and so we bought some overwrought pastries from the pastry cart outside our hostel (that we weirdly missed seeing until the LAST DAY) and they got crushed in the carry-on but were perfect anyways, and that even though I was very newly pregnant I wasn't sick or tired, thank the goodness.

New York, you fed us well.

I am thinking ahead.

2011-08-05T14:17:00.000-07:00

You know how sometimes you buy a Cheap Basic Whatever and then a month later you wish you had it in blue or a year later it gets a hole or you wear it all the time and you suddenly wish you had bought SIX of it?

That will not be THIS day!

They are v-neck tees and they were $5 and they FIT ME and yes there are two white ones you know what happens to white t-shirts don't tell me you don't.

I also bought a giant floppy hat. Bring on the sun, little darlin.

I am packing.

2011-08-03T14:17:00.000-07:00

I am packing for our move next week, but I am also packing for our cruise the week after. I am packing the things we won't need at our parents' house, i.e. the long-storage, but excluding the things we need to live for the next ten days. I am packing the clothes I won't need to look at until after I have this baby separately from the clothes I won't need to look at until it gets colder, which in their turn are in a different box from the clothes I don't want to wear on the cruise or in the next ten days except maybe I will.

I am packing my books, and they are refreshingly straight-forward. Into the box, little ones.

To catch you up.

2011-08-02T16:02:00.000-07:00

My intrawebz was down all day yesterday. It was a quiet and lonely day. I purged the filing cabinet and my closets without the crooning of internet-radio or the cheery chirp of my email to keep me company. Here's what you missed while I was stuck in the interpipes:

I've taken up swimming again, and it is awesome. I'm like a very small, freckled orca. BUT. I had bought new lotion because the chlorine makes my skin go EHHHHHHN and friends? If you buy the not-Aveeno-but-the-cheap-lotion-packaged-to-look-like-Aveeno, Aveena or Oveeno or whatever, and it says 'oatmeal and menthol' on the package and 'for hands and body,' what that means is do not put that shit on your face. You will regret it.

Speaking of swimming, I bought the most expensive swimsuit of my life today. None of the $14 suits at Urban Planet and Sirens and all my usual suspects have tops anymore, it's just row after row of bottoms, so I went to a proper bathing-suit-selling place. Those places GOUGE you. But the lady kept bringing me options based on what I asked for (halter, please. And bright. And not yellow or white) and I kept putting this tangerine with white polka dots back on and it FIT and the COLOR is SPLENDID and did I mention the fit? But the price. But I have been so frugal in this pregnancy so far! But egads. But I love it and have zero buyer's remorse. Talk to me in a week.

Speaking of buying, I was in Urban Planet picking up some $5 tanks (see?) when a girl was caught shoplifting. And security came and there was shouting and the girl was ADAMANT about SOMETHING and the cashier and I looked at each other like, How exciting! And after they marched her out and the gal rang up my purchases she's all, That'll be the highlight of my day.

Speaking of highlights, I made a flan yesterday. And not like that time Robyn and I made a low-fat flan and it was basically an omelette with syrup, but an honest-to-goodness flan. Several flans. My flan recipe (which is actually a halved recipe already) makes four small flans, so yesterday Joel and I each had a flan, and tonight I will have flan after dinner without having done any of the work for flan and it will be the highlight of MY day.

Except for buying that bathing suit, which I'm still stoked about.

2011-07-31T10:48:00.000-07:00

I love a summer weekend, when the internets are quiet because everyone is out beaching.

Scavenging nature for my own pleasure. Part I.

2011-07-28T09:17:00.000-07:00

I've never had a garden before, so I've never been able to (as every heroine in every Victorian novel ever has done) gather flowers for the drawing room, or whatever. We have a garden now, but it is the basement troll's baby and domain, so we don't touch.

EXCEPT! The basement troll is tree-planting for the summer (I'm sure I've mentioned this, AND done a happy jig already, but *jigs*) so our gardens are neglected. The front yard looks like this

and the side-yard looks like this

and the back garden looks like this.

Anything that rampant is obviously weeds, but *I* don't know different, so.

Hullo, pretty kitchen!

Speaking of gardens, my three-plant mini-garden is doing splendidly. I think. It is making THINGS, anyways.

I promise this will not become a mommyblog.

2011-07-27T19:32:00.000-07:00

Because I am doing other things besides being pregnant. Like ANNOTATING! Remind me to go off on a tear about this anthology we are annotating, and how annotating is way more nit-picky than I'd ever imagined anything could be, and how we sometimes spend half an hour trying to confirm via reputable source when some guy DIED. Maybe that was my tear right there.

But anyways, I was pregnant for a long time and not blogging about it, which was weird for me. Here are all the things I couldn't tell you, intrawebz:

We knew for about two weeks before I told my sister, and a month and a half before we told our parents, and it was wacky to me that we were going to have a baby and our families didn't know but all my doctors knew, and the receptionists at my doctors' offices knew, and the girl who takes my blood at the clinic knew.

Pregnancy has turned me into a mouth-breathing moron. The blood vessels in your sinuses swell up, making it harder to breathe through your nose and I'll be sitting here reading with my mouth hanging open like a yokel.

You can't just throw on something with an empire waist, or buy regular clothes in larger sizes, like I'd planned on doing. Your boobs are too big in the first case and you are wrong-shaped in the second. Dressing yourself becomes infinitely more complicated.

My boobs are ridiculous.

2011-07-25T18:52:00.000-07:00

See Joel and Raych camp.

See the Beware of Bear sign.

See that sign not be lying.

See the bear come back five times to the campsite next to us where it had previously found a fine cache of Gatorade and Coke.

See Joel chase the bear away with a rock.

See Owen, who was equal parts Defender-From-Bears and Heart-Attack-Giver-Due-To-Resemblance-To-Bear-When-Emerging-Suddenly-From-Bushes.

See Raych put Owen to better use than terrifying campers.

See Raych discover a new camera setting and turn the trees blue.

See Raych discover full comedic use of said setting.

See Raych give Shannon the beginnings of a terrible sunburn.

See Shannon's agony.

See Shannon's lovely tan.

See Raych's chilli dog, which she needs to feed her fetus.

See said fetus.

This post is a paean to the dump. I'm sorry, The Environment.

2011-07-22T16:27:00.000-07:00

You guys! I have been to the dump, and it. is. amazing. This is probably the opposite of the experience environmentalists want me to have, but I am loving the dump.

Ok so this last week I've been helping my professor clean out her basement, and it is a large basement with many rooms and almost no space to move. THE THINGS! The boxes of files, the old jolly jumpers, the Halloween decorations in various locations, the CANS OF PAINT. It was daunting.

We'd been cleaning it for three straight days, and the chaotic mass took on some semblance of organization, but until you start hauling things out it is sort of disheartening to look at your three days' work and see boxes and bags.

We were disheartened.

Thursday morning we loaded up the van with cans of paint, and more paint we'd missed the first time, and bags of garbage which we promptly unloaded so we could load the twenty or so rogue cans of paint we'd found hidden in the crawl space. And then the garbage and the rusted piping and the jolly jumper etc.

And then we drove to the dump, windows rolled down to keep from suffocating on the paint smell, apologizing to the forest we drove through for bringing gallons of toxic waste to DUMP somewhere in its midst.

The dump is very clearly organized. Go here. Turn here. If you have this, go here. Approach the scales when the light is green. And then the man at the scales is all, GOOD MORNING! Take your garbage up there to that fellow, and he'll tell you where to go from there!

And that fellow up by the bins is all, GOOD MORNING! Welcome to the dump! And he has our garbage out of the van and into a bin before we can even breathe, and is all, Take your van back to the scales now (so they can weigh you again and see how much garbage you dumped! Oh dump, you are so foresighted) and then head over there to recycling! They will tell you what to do there!

So we head back to the scales and it's only $20 for our load of garbage, and not the hundred-odd-plus we'd been anticipating, and then we head to recycling and pull up to the table marked 'Paint' and we're like, We have an absurd amount of paint? (It is, apparently, free to dump your household toxins. Probably to discourage clandestine garbaging of said toxins. Clever you, dump.) And the guy helps us cart the 80-ish cans of paint out of the van and shows us where to drop our metal piping and our ancient bottle of Round-Up and our defunct fire extinguisher, and we go on our merry way.

I know the dump is just A Thing That Exists and not the magical experience we'd both felt like we'd had. Its just, we had all this crap, and now we DON'T have it. I know a lot of it is just going into a terrible heap and is going to ruin the world for our children's children, but it isn't in the basement any more. And everyone was so JOLLY and HELPFUL and it was the first sunny day in AGES.

I would visit you again, dump. You have won my heart.

Have I mentioned...

2011-07-19T17:43:00.000-07:00

that we (being my entire family) are going on a Caribbean cruise in August?

And that I found a maxi dress that is neither strapless nor exceedingly breasty?

And that I am going to swan down to breakfast in it every morning of the cruise, as though it were a very fancy bathrobe?

Recently.

2011-07-13T18:04:00.000-07:00

We visited our friends' baby kitten. I rubbed its face with my face and it did not mind.

I made blueberry muffins. All of the blueberries died inglorious deaths.

Have I shown you my garden? It's really just these three tomato plants. I bought them mostly so I could go smell them periodically. If they generate me some tomatoes, so much the better.

My final 29th birthday celebration.

2011-07-11T11:46:00.000-07:00

We went to a cabin with some friends on my actual birthday, and then we went to Cirque for my birthday a few weeks ago, and then on Saturday we executed our original plan for my birthday.

Kayacks!

We have been wasting the last few years by living here and not kayacking.

You get to spy on the tourists!

And see the sights but from, like, lower down!

And then at one point you have to charge across open seas and it is choppy and there are large boats and you are small and badly steered. But we lived to have dinner, so.

Joel promised to take me for tapas for my birthday, so we went to The Mint, which is very dark and very underground which results in poor, flash-riddled photos of the samosas

and choyela

and spicy noodle soup.

The choyela was particularly ridiculous. I will eat all the spicy meat fragments you have.

Celebrations!

2011-07-04T20:52:00.000-07:00

On Canada Day we wander around our province's capital like civilized people, and then on the 4th of July I force Joel to eat patriotic desserts and come wave sparklers with me on the deck and feel vaguely traitorous to his country.

Independence to all (who have it), and to all, a good night.

Georgie's First Canada Day

2011-07-02T11:46:00.001-07:00

Georgie wants to Sniff All The Things (And, If Possible, Eat them).

Georgie and the whale!

Georgie does not like the copper girl.

The copper girl does not taste like people.

Georgie is an Immigrant Dog. Welcome to Canada! Bienvenue!

Georgie meets a Mountie Bear.

Georgie is seduced by an old sailor.

Georgie welcomes her master back from the war.

Georgie gets a drink, as the weather has finally turned hot.

Georgie is patriotic.

We went to the circus!

2011-06-26T20:32:00.000-07:00

It was part of my birthday present. We play pretty fast and loose with celebratory dates around here.

And ok, Cirque is never not amazing. There are always wacky new elements, and they dream up the most unexpected shenanigans. Like, so there's a jump-rope bit, and it's rad, and then these two guys pull out a long rope between them and these, like, SIX GUYS stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and then four more guys stand on THEIR shoulders, and then ANOTHER DUDE stands on THEIR shoulders, and then the rope turners turn and the whole shebang JUMPS. And no one dies.

And some bits repeat, because it wouldn't be Cirque without that girl on the pole. You know the one, she stands on one arm on a pole and then just contorts around her one arm? It's pretty much the same thing every time, and I totally love it. Ok but then also, that couple hanging from the satin sashes? With the guy in the high-waisted pants, and they're always very yearning? I could totally do without them.

sooooooooooo mournful

But there's probably someone loving the sash-couple like I love the pole-girl. Whatever.

Most amazing for me were these Chinese-dragon-lion-dog creatures, made of two people and a giant head (like when you make a donkey on family sitcoms? And someone's always pissed to be the butt-end?), and they STOOD ON BALLS. Like elephants do.

pretend this is a furry Chinese dragon with very dog-like mannerisms. but made of people

And then they WALKED AROUND on those balls. Like, over a see-saw. You will see it happening and you will still be like, No, this is not happening. Especially when one stands on its hind legs.

And people jumped through hoops and there was some trampoline business involving a wall which they ran up and if Dralion ends up in your neck of the woods, guys? You go.

I have been very busy.

2011-06-23T19:40:00.000-07:00

But none of it makes for good blogging. Like, this morning I went for a hike. Monday and Tuesday I babysat my prof's kid.

Also busy, and making for better blogging? Our Turkish bbq skewers.

Man, were those ever worth the, like, six dollars that we paid for them.

I am edumacated.

2011-06-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

So I know I finished school ages ago, but yesterday I OFFICIALLY CONVOCATED!

I mean, I didn't go to convocation. Convocation is long and dull and I've already convocated once (does that sound braggy?). But I did go to the after-party, thrown by my one-time supervisor and current employer, Dr Leighton!

I have been the all-purpose research bitch for Dr Leighton And Other Colleagues, which has been hilarious but also exhausting and which I blame on the recent radio silence. Thank goodness the hockey is over and I can have my evenings back now.

If you'll excuse me, my BA in English Lit and I need to go read Sweet Valley Confidential: Ten Years Later. It is...how you say...so bad.

It's a sad day, y'all.

2011-06-15T20:38:00.000-07:00

See you guys in 17 years.

New York: Day Six - I'm still doing these, right?

2011-06-08T16:20:00.000-07:00

Right. So.

There being two of us, I browsed the feeding frenzy for good-looking titles while boo got in line for Jimmy Fallon, who is exactly as giggly in real life as he is on tv.

He doesn't seem to have his slick, public persona in place yet, because after handing boo her book he was all, Please! Thank you! And she was like, What?

Then we got in line for the Mo Willems signing to get copies of Should I Share My Ice Cream, and we met Pig and Elephant, who are apparently a thing.

Then, there still being two of us, I went to the Maureen Johnson signing to get The Last Little Blue Envelope (the sequel to Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes, which came out FIVE YEARS AGO but which I only just read, like, two months ago THANK GOODNESS) while Bekah went to see Chris van Allsberg, and this was the first and only time we were both stuck in crappy lines with no one to chat with, and we didn't even have each other to make it better.

That morning we'd walked by the MacMillan booth and the woman is all, Here is a schedule for the Big Red Bag giveaways! In previous years you had to be a book-seller to get a bag but this year ANYONE can get one, you just have to be here at the right time! So we were all, I wonder what is in these Big Red Bags! What kind of treats? So we came back at, like, 2 or whatever to find that the Big Red Bag giveaway was a giveaway of big, red bags. I mean, sturdy-ass bags, and Bekah used hers (re-named the Big Red Bitch) as a carry-on to haul more books home. But just bags.

And then we were accosted by the Scientologist pirates from the L Ron Hubbard booth

which we had been trying to avoid but it was right by blackbirds so we kept accidentally wandering through it and then trying to skedaddle.

We went to a panel called Book Reviews Online (or some such), expecting it to be interesting and pertinent, but it was really just large print media like the NYRB explaining how awesome it is to be able to review online (you can fit more words! For the same price!) and it was a little bit What are bloggers? Oh yes we have one of those on staff. So we left early, but I heard it never got any better.

We were heading back to that dodgy library on Jersey St where we'd gotten mad lost on Monday trying to get to the Teen Author Carnival, this time for a Writing for YA panel. I'd seen Maureen Johnson earlier that morning (as I mentioned) and then later I saw her wander across the exhibition floor and was all, Oh, there's Maureen Johnson! And she turned and I was like, *awkward wave* and when we got to the YA panel and took our seats (in the front row like keeners) and checked the panel, there she was again. Sorry for accidentally stalking you, Maureen.

Last time we'd gotten lost leaving the library because we were so caught up in the panel we'd just seen, so this time we paid SUCH ATTENTION TO WHERE WE WERE GOING but Bekah failed to go through the turnstile quickly enough which invalidates your card for that station and all stations in the area, so we had to walk to the next station weeping over our empty stomachs, since we were STARVING OURSELVES for Brother Jimmy's

more about which another time, and after which we rolled home.

I got to wear my Canucks bathing suit ON GAME DAY

2011-06-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

I went camping and burnt my forearms because I always think I'm so smart with the sunscreen and haven't burnt, like, the tops of my ears in YEARS and then I miss somewhere random and have to pay for it later. But the weather was hot and the company was excellent and the pub in town to which we drove I can neither recommend for the food nor the service but the Canucks WON

and the market was markety

and the spicy peanut chicken was indeed spicy and contained both chicken and peanuts

and Ruckle Park is lovely in the gloaming

and we ate quite a lot of eggs fried in bacon grease in the morning (as well as, obviously, bacon)

and there was an unnecessary fence.

OH that fence made me laugh. What are you guarding? That grass, from the other grass?

New York: Day Five

2011-06-03T18:10:00.000-07:00

In direct inverse proportion to how much Day Four kind of stank, Day Five was full of surprises and awesome. And I sort of already blogged about this already but I'm gonna again.

So. We got to the Javitz at 7 to get tickets for the Temple Grandin signing, because Temple Grandin is intense. And then we sat in the line-up to get in and waited for two hours (as one does) and flipped through the Things Going On Today magazine, whence all our surprises. Shel Silverstein preview! Jimmy Fallon tomorrow! And so on.

Ok and then the floodgates opened and we got our first taste of the feeding frenzy that is the HarperCollins and Hachette (pronounced 'Ha-shet' and not, as I have been saying, 'Hatchet') and Penguin booths. Stacks of books for the taking! Elbowing also for the taking! No time to read blurbs or book-backs! TAKE! TAKE! TAKE! It was actually delightful and overwhelming and fun in the way that very loud dance music is. OVERSTIMULATION!

And then we went and met my internet-friend 'blackbird' at her booth, which had soft carpeting and cushioned seats and which we stopped by MANY TIMES over the next few days for these reasons (and also because it had BLACKBIRD and she is hilarious and precious and New Yorky and dear, and her only flaw is not telling us she wasn't coming on Thursday so we could get a picture with her on Wednesday. Alas).

While we were sitting on the Javitz steps with blackbird, eating our hotdogs and yakking, a pack of school-children traipsed by with identical treats, and we were like, Where did you children get those treats? And one of the minders is all, They're giving free treats away thataway. So we wandered over to the Sarah Dessen truck and got red velvet whoopie pies

from who I later realized was Sarah Dessen herself (whoops. I loved The Truth About Forever, Sarah!) and they were one of the best things we ate all week (there will be a wrap-up of Things We Ate later. Also, Our Hostel and The Sketchy Adventures Therein). Grandma Plett loved red velvet, so I like to think we were honoring her in chosing this over strawberry.

And then, and then we got in line for Mike Holmes, a line that was full of giddy girls, and by the time we got to Mike Holmes we were both turned to eleven and very high-pitched but he was so calming and had such enormous, soft hands and then we HUGGED HIM and it was one of my top two celebrity encounters of the week.

And then I met Chuck Klosterman and then we met R L Stine, who was a bit leery but which was kind of expected, and then we spent a good twenty minutes circling a quadrant of booths looking for a particular booth, but they aren't in strictly numerical order and they aren't always labelled and finally we just asked a girl, Where is the Shel Silverstein? And she was all, Right here, and the cookies are on their way.

Oh and somewhere in there we saw a skinny older lady doing something technological on a stage and then we were like Is that Margaret Atwood?!?! And then we stopped and had a moment because MARGARET ATWOOD. She was signing e-books, which was a very future-space-tech and Atwoody thing to be doing.

And then we hauled our wheelie bag of books back to the hostel and changed our shoes and headed out to the library (the big one, with the lions, which is easier to find on a map) for a sci-fi/fantasy reading.

And, ok. When I'd gone online to rsvp, the sign-up had been closed, but I figured we'd show up and hope they could squeeze us in and if not, we'd have gotten to see the library anyways.

So we get there and start a living wait list, and more people keep showing up who didn't sign up, and they fall in with the wait list, and the gals start checking people who DID sign up off a list that is tragically not in alphabetical order so they have to go through all the pages looking for each person, but everyone is orderly and patient because we are book people and not rowdy, except there's ONE GUY behind us in the wait list who is all, I'm not on the list but I'm reviewing one of these authors so it's very important that I cover this. And we are like, Dude, everyone here is probably reviewing one of these authors. Fall in.

So he falls in but ok, did I mention that he's blind and does it make this story worse if he is? Because he is the WHINIEST PERSON ALIVE and also blind so he keeps being like, How many more people are left? And me and boo are like, Maybe 30? But it's taking a while to get through everyone (see: list issue) and he's all *aggrieved sigh* This isn't right! It never said you had to have a reservation! And we're like, The website did. And he's all Well NOT EVERYONE HAS COMPUTERS! And we're like *careful silence, because in addition to being blind he is also maybe crazy?* And then five minutes go by and he's like, Miss? How many more people? And we're like, Maybe 25? And it goes around again.

But. We all got in in the end, and the reading was amazing. Oh hell, this is already a very long post. Suffice it to say that Lev Grossman reads like an elementary school teacher (in a good way), John Scalzi is hilarious even if I think his fiction is kind of bad, Scott Westerfeld had illustrations, and Cat Valente is a force and I want to be her bestie.

New York: Day Four: The Director's Cut

2011-06-03T17:31:00.000-07:00

What? Oh right, this. It turns out that working full-time even temporarily can take a piece out of you if you're used to sitting around on your lazy student ass.

Day four: BEA begins: Sort of. Monday was mainly for book sellers and publishers and whatall, but we were like, Let's go to that shit anyways! because we are keen like that.

So we hauled our asses to the Javitz and got our badges and went to a panel on the 'eBook era' which apparently is 'now.' It was interesting in a factoidal way, and full of charts and stats. The next panel on PR in Marketing was not up our alley, or even located near our alley, as the advice was primarily to 'use facebook' and 'figure out what that twitter thing is about.'

In between the two panels we'd gone to information to ask where the Mulberry Library is, since Jersey Street wasn't on our portable-but-tiny map, and the information woman is all, Let me google that for you? And the woman next to us is all, Oh, I work for the library, let me mark it down on your teeny map. And we are like, FORTUITOUS! Although upon further reflection, running into a librarian at a book expo isn't like finding a unicorn.

Anymoving on. We knocked off for the afternoon to go do some sightseeing in Greenwich Village, because we'd heard tell of a Secret Garden there and we were hell-bent on finding this, like, best-kept secret of New York or something. But things that are not on attractions lists are frequently not on attractions lists for a reason, so while the garden was secret and leafy, it was also small and you had to go through shrieking ~~eels~~ children to get to it.

Also we both had to pee, which brings down the tone of any excursion. From there we went to Urban Outfitters to do a little more shopping, only unbeknownst to us, UO is esssspensive. If I want to blow dolla bills in New York I'll do it right, and not at some shoddy, overpriced Forever XXI.

From there we went a-questing for Panchitos, which our hostel's concierge recommended and then proceeded to not be able to find on a map, and when the directions to a thing are very complicated and you have spent most of the day being lost (like that time you were trying to cross the street but couldn't because you cannot cross the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel and then you have to backtrack, like, five blocks to get to where you were going) and then you actually FIND that thing

and then that thing has burritos and enchiladas and three types of beans and two types of rice

and deep-fried ice cream

then everything else about the day is fine.

And then we went to the Mulberry Street Library for the Teen Author Carnival, and we got there late and had to stand in the back for the first panel and it was HOT SO HOT but we met a real live Book Smuggler

and got seats for the next panel on (I paraphrase) putting angst in your teen novel and having it not suck. Which, ok, there were some hilarious and articulate authors on this panel (David Levithan, e.g. Susane Colasanti in particular made me want to start reading her books, except I couldn't see her name tag from where I was sitting so we spent an uncomfortable few minutes zooming in on her chesticles with the camera to try to suss it out and then giving up) but the moderator refused to ask any questions about, you know, angst. And putting it in novels. And making it not suck. So it was interesting inasmuch as listening to authors talk about their work is always interesting, but I was VERY INTRUIGED by angst and the not sucking thereof.

Regardless, it was our first bookerish day and was therefore very thrilling, although if it had come after any of our other bookerish days it would have been a let-down in the utmost.

Day Three: Addendum

2011-05-31T10:46:00.000-07:00

Before we entered the Met-maze we sat on the steps and let Acapella Soul serenade us.

Where were we? Oh yes. New York: Day Three

2011-05-31T09:06:00.000-07:00

The second day of aggressive sight-seeing is always more exhausting than the first day, because your capacity for absorption (and walking) is waning and you haven't yet built up the stamina of later days. So. This day was the most exhausting.

But also exciting! Because we went to Central Park and rode the carousel (which is sadly no longer a dollar. Two-fifty is still a cheap ten-minute ride, but there's something satisfying about paying a lone dollar).

On our way into Central Park we were besieged by those guys who try to sell you carriage rides, and one guy told Bekah that her purse made her look very sexy (so...without the purse she is an unsexy hag?).

We unexpectedly came upon a statue of Hans Christian Anderson reading The Ugly Duckling to a duckling

and to us

and then found the Alice in Wonderland statue. We had to linger some twenty minutes to get a photo of it without any kids clambering on it, and then we had to be quick because a new flock of kids would usually climb up as the last flock was climbing down. There was no lag time.

and then we climbed on it

We went to the Met and this is where exhaustion kicked in, because it is SO LARGE. And maze-like. And there is many an art. This one installation of tiny people on a wall caught our eye, and we both spent a bizarre few minutes trying to get a 'good' photo of it without being sure what a 'good' photo would be, which is why we now have a dozen photos between us of this one thing and we're still not sure what we were trying to capture.

what?

Then we walked down 5th Ave and Madison Ave and Parks Ave to see the old robber baron mansions that have been converted into apartments and Japanese consulates.

Thence to Grand Central Station, which was yuuuge

but had disappointing and expensive gelato. Green apple should not taste like pear. It should be tart.

Then we wandered back to our hostel, picking up a falafel on the way (Vancouver, whither thy street food carts?) and a couple of cheesecakes to smuggle into our room.

New York: Day Two: The More Longerer Version

2011-05-30T17:13:00.000-07:00

Ok. We tried to find MOOD again in the daylight but were still thrown off by the scaffolding and also being wrong about where it was. But we did find the Macy's and the wooden escalator, AND we found the H+M (it was right next to the Macy's. For the record, Macy's is a terrible marker because it is a block long and wraps around both sides, so later when you go back to find that breakfast place [this was before we realized that every deli does some sort of breakfast] you won't remember which bit of Macy's you meant 'across from') AND we thought we'd found the flea market, but it was more fleas than market and later we discovered it was not the flea market we'd been looking for.

And then we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and it was hot and lovely and took only half the time the internet said it would.

And then we got lost in Brooklyn and got lost again and found a train and tried to make a connection and got lost again and then found the train to Coney Island and that was almost better than finding Coney Island itself. Except that the train didn't have freaks, and Coney Island did.

also hot dogs

The freak show was super, with a fire-eater and a sword-eater and a hypnotist and a KNIFE-THROWER WHO SET A GUINNESS RECORD WHILE WE WATCHED (the Guinness guy was there and everything) by throwing 78 knives in a Ladder of Death around TWO girls in less than a minute. I know. The knife-thrower was the most impressive but also the most watched-through-fingers-due-to-terror-and-liveness-of-show-and-potential-for-actual-death.

And then as we were darting out to the beach to dip our feet in the Atlantic (or whatever) we heard a caller for a $2 freak show and amigos? You get what you pay for. The woman was turrrrrible. A boring performer, a stumbling banterer, a 'Hey guys, do you want me to stomp on this box full of glass? Cause I'll do it. I'll...hey guys! Guys! I'll do it, don't think I wont!' We finally gave up all hope on it getting better (i.e. her leaving the stage) and consoled ourselves with Bekah's first funnel cake.

nothing a little deep-fried sugar can't cure

And then we went home and bought some apples at the market and the market-guy told us we were going to kill all the mens, and we were like, What? No! And he was like, Because you have all much beauty! And we were like, Ahhhh, yes. Well. And then we felt uncomfortable and went home to bed.

New York: Day One: The Extended Version

2011-05-30T16:47:00.000-07:00

New York! We went. It was bananas. I don't even know how to blog this, so I'm just going to go until I reach a breaking point and then stop. Dealsies?

pre-travel early am faces

Ok so we flew in on a Friday, and caught the bus and then the train and this was before we knew there might be elevators and before we knew you could go through the service doors if you had bags so we lugged our suitcases up and down many a flight of stairs and Bekah got stuck on the top of a turnstile because she was trying to lift her bag over it while she went through it. The LOLS!

post-travel faces

On our way from the train to the hostel we went the wrong way twice, were asked for directions twice, were asked if we were Jewish once, and if a guy's hat looked good with his outfit. It was a very busy seven blocks.

Times Square is very dull and billboardy during the day and since it was only 7 or so we had pizza (and were all stoked because this pizza place was across the street from our hostel. This is before we realized you can't swing a dead cat in New York without hitting a pizza place) and wandered up to be dazzled by the lights at night.

the lights, but you've already seen this photo

Everyone wants to sell you comedy tickets in Times Square, which is why we actively avoided it after dark. They are insistant.

And also that night we went to Madison Square Gardens (like, the outside bit) and wandered down 37th looking for MOOD and couldn't find it because of the dark and the scaffolding and also we were misinformed vis a vis it's location. And then we went back to our dodgy hostel with its rickety beds, about more which another time.

I'mma end this post here for tidiness' sake.

New York: Day Six

2011-05-25T18:19:00.000-07:00

Computer unhappy, blogging from iGadget just to reassure my mom that we're still kicking. Due to computer moods unable to upload photos of pulled pork and hush puppies. Your loss,but also mine because they are eaten and I will never see their like again.

Book snatching restrained to a modest twenty-eight today.

New York: Day, what. Five?

2011-05-24T18:08:00.000-07:00

Today more than made up for yesterday. The feeding-frenzy book grab portion of BEA began in earnest, and WE! MET! MIKE! HOLMES!

What? You can't not hug him. He was so nice and so pleasant and the line was full of giddy girls (ourselves not excepted).

We also met R L Stine, which was deeply weird because he's not so much a person as an amorphous presence of my teen years and yet hey look, he is also a person. Wacky.

And we met Temple Grandin, and Chuck Klosterman, and my internet-friend 'blackbird,' and many bloggers, and we had whoopie pies and a black-and-white cookie that came with a preview of a Shel Silverstein book (we would have taken either the preview or the cookie alone, but TOGETHER OH MAN) and then went to a sci-fi/fantasy reading with Cat Valente and Lev Grossman and John Scalzi and Scott Westerfeld and Cat Valente made me a little starstruck because she is Cat Valente, is she aware?

And it was hot like summer and we had brought a wheelie-bag to wheel our loot the fourteen blocks back to our hostel and were so glad we had because even being our most discriminating and restraining selves, we came home with this:

And, like, and infinite number of pens.

New York: Day Four

2011-05-23T17:44:00.001-07:00

Ok so sometimes places you'd heard were cheap shopping end up being not that cheap after all, and secret gardens aren't always all they're cracked up to be, but in the end we found the Mexican food place that our hostel's concierge bartended at when he first moved to America, EVEN though it was in Greenwich Village and Greenwich Village is a (beautiful) warren of streets, and it was EVERYTHING WE WANTED IT TO BE!

Blogger won't let me post any photos, but there were two types of beans and three types of rice with our burrito/enchilada platter and guacamole aplenty and the deep-fried ice cream fulfilled my deepest wish.

New York: Day Three

2011-05-22T15:08:00.000-07:00

The Central Park Carousel!

Hans Christian Anderson!

The Met!

Grand Central Station!

And falafel and gelato and hot pretzel and I was going to take a picture of my cheesecake for you before I ate it but I forgot.

New York: Day Two

2011-05-21T18:18:00.000-07:00

Brooklyn Bridge!

Coney Island hot dogs!

Freak show! (Cameras not permitted inside actual freak show.)

Bekah's first funnel cake!

New York: Day One

2011-05-20T22:36:00.001-07:00

Many much flights, but also pizza!

And Times Square!

Crazy at any other time, I'm sure, but positively hallucigenic at night after hours of traveling.

AIEEEE!!

2011-05-17T18:46:00.000-07:00

Youuuuu guyyyyyys! I can't focus on anything when something is impending, so it's probably for the best that I signed on this week to help out my thesis supervisor organize a bunch of her Office Shit (where there were PILES there are now FILES) rather than pace around the house picking at things. I need someone else to direct my energies.

New York! Remember when that was...a lot of days away? Tomorrow I pack and Thursday I ferry over to the mainland and FRIDAY WE FLY OUT! Zoots.

I have been making lists in my mind and not writing them down so I'm sure there are things I'm forgetting. Like library books! Remind me to take those back. Today I got new guards put on my yellow boots in preparation for all the walking AND I bought some Dr Scholls inserts the other day and why has no one told me this but they turned all my cheap-ass shoes into comfortable, expensive-feeling shoes. I have been doin it rong for years.

Tomorrow I make final decisions vis a vis clothing choices, and someone told me to just wear all black and I'll fit right in but I am from the west coast and I like to wear all the colors ALL OF THE TIME. So.

I AM GOING TO CONEY ISLAND AND I AM GOING TO EAT A HOT DOG AND SEE THE FREAK SHOW BECAUSE THAT IS STILL A THING.

*hem*

I wish it was Thursday.

2011-05-14T07:58:00.000-07:00

When boo and I found out we were going to New York back in November, there were still HUNDREDS of days before take-off. Now there are six.

Six! Days! I feel like all these little guys.

Graphic stolen shamelessly from sister. I am nervous and excited and mostly trying to hurry time along faster. But then I have all these things to do before I go to the mainland on Thursday, and Wednesday just got verrrry busy. I will have to pack on Tuesday. What to pack!? What to wear!?! It is cloudy in New York right now, and 19 degrees.

Stupidly long posts is what I get for not blogging.

2011-05-10T09:30:00.000-07:00

Oh blog, where have you been.

Ok so I was out of town. And while all the places I was at (my parents' house, my sister's house, my in-laws' house) have The Intertubes, I couldn't seem to muster up the moxie to blog. But I'm here now!

So. Wednesday I went to the mainland and boo and I went shopping and it was terrible and we were largely unsuccessful. Mall, why do you fail us when we need you most?

And then Wednesday night I slept over at boo and Darren's and Thursday morning Georgie thought I was a burglar and then when she realized I wasn't she got so excited she peed. Boo and I read and took a nap and watched Clue and had plum platz for second-breakfast and then more platz for after-lunch and then took another nap and watched Arrested Development and made cookies and had those for dinner.

There was a lot of this

and some this

and no small amount of this.

In lieu of children or dolls, Georgie is our plaything. And then on Friday I went to visit my Small Byrd and her Baby Byrd and nibble on the baby's cheeks because look at them.

Robyn and I ran errands because we are errand-running champions.

And then Joel came out and on Saturday we went for Mother's Day brunch and to the park and again with the this

and this

and this.

And then on Sunday we went to Chilliwack for other Mother's Day and went for a hike but Joel left the camera in the car, alas. Pretend there are pictures of us looking slightly sweaty but very healthy.

Oooh, and! Remember that season of Project Runway that stupid Gretchen won that Mondo SHOULD have won? Gillian got me a Mondo shirt for my birthday!

It is COLORIFFIC. The pattern that looks grey is actually VERY BLUE.

And, AND! We got our iPad2! No pictures, because Joel is off somewhere playing with it. It is infinitely play-with-able.

Now I am home, and off to go remind Boston Pizza that they want to hire me.

Two things.

2011-05-02T08:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I ran!

Personal record by about 10 seconds, EVEN THOUGH I stopped to walk twice because the new route is all hills and running hills gives me the vomits. But there was a guy in full hockey equipment (hockey socks, hockey shorts, shoulder pads, Canucks jersey, helmet, those flags you put in car doors taped to his helmet) right behind me the whole time and every time he would pass me I'd have to run harder, because you can't let a man in full hockey gear beat you when you are just carrying your own weight.

Also? Those t-shirts are the most generic running-event t-shirts of my life.

Today I voted!

[No photo. They frown on that sort of thing in voting stations.]

I feel very civic.

From highnesses to hicks.

2011-04-30T17:16:00.000-07:00

Shannon PVR'd the Royal Wedding so we could watch it last night instead of yesterday at some ungodly hour, and so we could fastforward through the boring bits (i.e. most of it) and pause on all the hats. HATS!

Hilarious!

I love a good wedding, especially one that I can attend in my jeggings and don't have to buy a gift for, and I love pomp and circumstance. Where are the trumpets to announce MY entrance?

We made our own wedding feast of bangers and mash (except we don't really know what that is so we had sausage and potatoes and called it good) and royal-engagement-ring-themed tarts.

Ehh? Anyone?

And then today Chelsea took me out driving in her truck because I need to learn to drive standard or be forever housebound and it wasn't the worst because Chelsea is very like my aunt Lois (i.e. calm and instructy) and driving a truck feels very badass.

That makes three.

2011-04-29T15:39:00.000-07:00

I had another birthday cake last night. I was too busy eating to take a picture but it was one of these:

The best birthdays are the ones that go on for DAYS.

I'm fine with whatever happens in the season now.

2011-04-27T12:47:00.000-07:00

Ok see here's the thing. Chicago has bumped us out of the playoffs for the last two years. So there's that. But then also there's something about them that makes you WANT to hate them and wish them ill. Is it Patrick Kane's doucheface?

Kane might actually be a super-nice guy who just happens to have the face of a douche, but look at that face. That is the face of every rich asshole in every teen comedy since 1985. Jonathan Toews, on the other hand, actually seems like a legit jerk.

A jerk with dead, soulless shark eyes.

Yesterday I couldn't handle watching the game alone and Joel was on call so I went to Christie's with some friends and we all chomped on our fingertips and as much as it would have been SO SATISFYING to CRUSH THEM DECISIVELY in four games, it was also nice to let them rally a bit before we killed off their season.

Onward and upward.