An Ocean's Garbled Vomit On The Shore

Did you know that puppies can projectile vomit? Me neither. Until Stella let loose Exorcist-style. All over the couch. It's a small consolation that the couch is leather and not fabric. You'd think that it would be easy to clean up but it wasn't. For some reason, the bottom cushions are attached to the couch; they look removable but aren't (we've had the couch for 3 years and this is the first time I've noticed. Perceptive, much?) So although cleaning the surface of the cushions was easier than it would have been if we had a fabric couch, my cleaning job was hampered by the fact that vomit was dripping in between the cracks of the cushions and I couldn't pull the cushions out. What? Too much vomit talk? The thing is, I don't have a child. Projectile vomiting is not something I should have to deal with. When you have a child you're like "Yup. Projectile vomiting. Been there. Done that." It goes with the territory. Child = projectile vomiting. Cute adorable puppy SHOULD NOT = projectile vomiting. I'm just sayin'. You prepare yourself (or at least, I would prepare myself) when you have a kid. You KNOW it's going to be gross. You psych yourself up for the months of poop and pee and vomit and all the other bodily fluids you are going to come into contact with. I thought I'd prepared myself for having a puppy. I knew about the peeing on the floor. I understood about picking up the poop. But vomit? Really? Projectile vomiting? I can't get over this. And to make matters worse, Stella was so pleased with herself. It was like she'd learned a new trick or something. So here I am, trying to stop the flow of vomit from making it's way into the cracks between the cushions while trying to reassure Stella that I wasn't mad at her (puppy books says that if you freak out about something your puppy might develop a phobia about the thing you're freaking out about. I think one vomit-phobia per household is sufficient and I've got it all locked up, thankyouverymuch) and at the same time trying not to reinforce the thought that projectile vomiting gets you lots of kisses and cuddles. Don't want her to try for a repeat performance.

I`ll Just Take The I-Got-A-Lot-Of-Cheese Award

Look what I got! The lovely Donna gave it to me. Is it nerdy of me to admit how pleased I am to be nominated for a blogging award? Each time I hit publish, I feel a twinge of self-doubt; is this post interesting / witty / relevant? Being nominated gives me the validation that my insecure little heart desires.

So the rule is that I need to link back to the person who nominated me (check!) and then nominate 10 of my favourite / most read blogs. It's tough choosing just 10 (what can I say - I have a boring job and read a lot of blogs to pass the time) but here I go (in no particular order):

- spiritofplace (the first blog I ever read, before I even know what a blog was)
- Dutch Blitz (the second blog I read, because of the link on spiritofplace)
- Life in the Left Lane (she's getting married around the same time I am and it's fun to read about her preparations ... and then freak out about how unprepared I am compared to her)
- See Hear Speak No Evil (3 ladies who never fail to make me giggle)
- The Art of Over-Thinking (because it's eerie how alike we are)
- Trials & Tribulations of a London Lass (her slang reminds me of when I lived in England)
- No Ordinary Rollercoaster (because he has a cute dog - not as cute as Stella obviously, but cute enough)
- Just Jenn Rants & Raves (she bakes and then takes pictures of her awesome food - it makes me hungry)
- New York Dactyl (funny. shit.)
- Chelsea Talks Smack (she makes me think)

So there you go. Check them out. Make some new friends.

Just To Tell You Once Again Who's Bad

Last night was week 2 of puppy school. Stella is now officially the worst dog in the class. Whenever the teacher wants to demonstrate how to react to bad behaviour, she uses Stella as an example. Except that Stella doesn't respond to her methods. Let me paint you a picture of our humiliation:

Teacher wants to show us what to do if your puppy jumps up on you. She brings Stella to the front of the class. Stella immediately starts jumping on her to get at the treats in her hand. Teacher does her "eh eh eh" noise. Stella keeps jumping. Teacher says "off!" in a firm voice. Stella jumps. Teacher yanks on Stella's leash. Stella sits... and then jumps. Teacher stands on Stella's leash. Stella continues to jump even though the leash is constraining her. She's making it half an inch off the ground but still - she jumps. At this point, Teacher tells the class that their dogs would be behaving by now and that Stella is just "being a puggle." Apparently Teacher is biased against puggles because they're known for being difficult. Whatever. Stella's not difficult, she's spirited. She's got character. There's never a dull moment with Stella around.

Which brings me to our next moment of shame. Last night there was a new dog in class, Sophie, an 11-week old Maltese. Sophie is about the size of a guinea pig. She probably weighs 3 lbs and is pretty much a big ball of white fluff. During class, Stella was really interested in Sophie. We thought it was because Sophie was new. It was actually because Stella wanted to eat her. At the end of class we played "pass the puppy." We passed the puppies around the circle, giving each puppy the chance to be petted by someone new. Teacher wants us to have 2000 people touch our puppies by the time they're 2 years old. I have no idea how she expects us to keep track. (Did I mention that Teacher is a bit of a tool? Stella is so disdainful of her. It's pretty funny.) Anyway, we're passing the puppies around, which gives them a bit more freedom. Stella sees this as her opportunity and pounces on Sophie. I really wish I was exaggerating this for comedic effect but I'm not. We had to drag Stella off this poor, traumatized puppy (though what an 11-week old puppy is doing in puppy school is beyond me.) It was mortifying. S thinks that Stella thought Sophie was a chewtoy. She's got a stuffed bunny that's about twice the size of Sophie, so he might be on to something. All I know is that we are going to work Stella's ass off this week with the puppy school homework and next week she is going to be the puppy school star. *feverishly knocking on wood*

And My New Grandma Bea Arthur Come On Over

*Disclaimer for Jess: This post has pictures of food. If you are hungry, stop reading now.

This weekend was relaxed and slow and exactly what I needed. There was not 1 gin & tonic involved (shocking, I know.) Since moving out of downtown Vancouver, our social life has decreased somewhat. I think I'm okay with that. I haven't felt that bone-crushing exhaustion I used to feel Sunday afternoon after a weekend of bars, clubs and patios. I actually feel almost rested up and ready for the week ahead. It's bizarre and a bit unsettling but also nice. It's nice to feel healthy again. To not wake up feeling like you've been run over by a truck. To not be able to actually feel your sore liver. That being said, I am definitely in need of a girls' night out. I want to go out with my ladies, drink far too many gins and dance my ass off. I just don't want to deal with public transit at the end of the night :)

Last weekend I made the mistake of hoping Westy's team would lose on Friday so I could drive up to Vernon to watch their next game. Well I got my wish - they did lose on Friday. But then they lost on Saturday too, forcing their playoff series to go to the dreaded game 7. Fortunately they managed to pull off a win, advancing them to the next round. I was toying with the idea of driving up to Penticton this weekend to watch games 1 & 2 of this series but in the end my laziness won out and I stayed put. Turtle drove up for Friday's game and won a bucket full of jelly beans - clearly karma was trying to tell me something. Westy's team won both nights so they're ahead 2-0 in the series. I refuse to make any sort of predictions - I am keeping my big mouth shut. Games 3 & 4 are Tuesday and Wednesday.

I went to visit my grandma in the "retirement community" on Saturday. We had coffee and these:

I think the highlight of the visit was when she told me that she thinks my uncle is a "stupid ass." It was hilarious. He is a stupid ass, it was just funny to hear my 92-year old grandma say so. Or it could have been when she said she has solved Vancouver's homeless problem. She thinks we need to lock up the homeless because "then they'd have homes." What can I say - Grandma has an opinion on everything and Grandma's always right.

I made a banana cream pie this weekend for Easter dinner at future MIL's house. It was not a success. It was the first banada cream pie I've ever made and it will probably be the last. It tasted really good, it just looked like crap. So much so that I can't post a picture of it here because it will make you throw up in your mouth a little. It didn't set fully so it was very gooey looking. It also got that nasty pudding-skin on the surface. It was not an attractive dessert. So I smothered it in whipped cream and sprinkled it with nuts and told everyone to eat with their eyes closed. Now I need to come up with another dessert for next weekend's Easter dinner at my parents' house. Suggestions?

All I See Is Mystery And I Obey

Why Stella needs puppy school:

This is what remains of Stella's bed. See the sad, deflated centre of the bed? It used to be full of stuffing. Until Stella decided to eat it:


Stella hiding the evidence:


Sometimes Stella gets a really scary look in her eyes. It's times like this that I know she would eat my face if given the opportunity:

Stella telling us it's time to go for a walk. We don't tell her. She tells us:

Stella giving the evil eye. She gives me this look when she's sick of the camera flash constantly going off in her face:

And this is my sweet puppy givin' the business to the Easter bunny:

This is why we decided to enroll her in puppy school. The first class wasn't too bad. She wasn't the worst puppy in the class but she certainly wasn't the best. She has this adorable habit of vocalizing her yawns. I really don't know how else to describe it. Anyway, she kept doing it during class. We thought it was hilarious because man, puppy school is boring, but the teacher wasn't too impressed. This week involved a lot of talking (and the teacher wouldn't let the puppies interact with each other - which I thought the whole point of puppy school was, but whatever.) Hopefully next week we actually get to do stuff. I'm hoping that puppy school will convert Stella from a leash-puller (she weighs 15lbs and I'm not kidding when I say that she drags me down the street) into a well-behaved heeler. Hah, I just accidentally typed "heller" there - foreshadowing, perhaps?

Baby Needs A New And Shiny Prize

The ladies at See Hear Speak No Evil are giving away a fabulous prize just for commenting on their blog. Go check it out. Even if you don't love free stuff you will love their blog. They are funny ladies who will make you laugh.

Is Lump Fast Asleep Or Rockin' Out With The Band?

I noticed Stella's Lump of Doom Saturday afternoon. She seemed fine; she wasn't in any pain but she had this protrusion coming out of her back. I thought maybe it was a rib. She tends to run into things a lot (she takes after me) so I thought maybe she'd bumped herself out of alignment. Don't ask me how I thought this was possible, I just did. I tried to push the lump back in (thinking it was either a rib or a hernia - either way I thought I could just push it back and it would be fine.)

Stella was having none of it. It wasn't painful to her, just really annoying. I know this because she was doing her sniffy thing. When Stella is annoyed she huffs and sighs like an adolescent girl. When Stella is in pain she bites like a mofo (I know this because of the time I was cutting her nails and accidentally cut her toe off. Ok, I didn't cut her toe off, I just cut the nail too short, but it f-ing bled like I cut her toe off. And she bit me like I cut her toe off. I don't want to talk about it.)

The lump is not connected to her innards. Stella has a lot of extra skin, so I was able to actually lift the lump up away from her body. The lump is big (about the size of a peach pit - a BIG peach pit) and worrisome. At this point I decide that Stella has cancer. S agrees that we should call the vet so I call and make an appointment for the next morning. And then spend the rest of the evening fawning over my poor, sick puppy (who is acting like her usual, monster self.)

Sunday morning I walked Stella to the vet (the logic being that if she has a 30 minute walk before she gets to the vet, she won't act like a demon when she gets to the vet. This logic has yet to pan out but I'm sure one day - one day! - it will.) We get to the vet and wrestle Stella onto the scale. She's now 14.6 lbs - double the weight she was when we got her. My baby's growing up.

The vet tries very hard not to laugh at us when we tell him what's wrong. Apparently it's really common for dogs to have reactions to the rabies vaccine. Stella had her rabies shot 2 weeks ago though so I didn't even think of it. Also, if it's so common, shouldn't the vet tell you that when you get the shot? So that you don't freak out when your dog grows a lump the size of a peach pit on their back? And have to spend $34.13 getting the lump checked out? Gah!

Stella's Lump of Doom should disappear on its own within the next 6 months (I know, right? 6 months!) It's not a problem unless it starts to grow or ooze pus. Apparently these rabies vaccine lumps can become infected AND they can turn cancerous - how screwed up is that?

In other Stella news, tonight we start puppy school. Hilarity ensues.

Love's Like A Bomb Blowing My Mind

I feel a bit guilty about last week's S rant. Not too guilty because I really needed to vent, but guilty enough to inspire today's post.

The List of How S Rocks
(stop reading here if you're not in the mood for a gushy post)

S is always warm. I am always cold. He lets me warm my freezing toes on his legs (with minimal complaints about how gross my feet are. I fully admit - I have gross feet. They're really dry. I barely mange to moisturize my face every day; I cannot be arsed to moisturize my feet. But I digress.)

He makes the best grilled cheese sandwiches. I'm impatient. I want my grilled cheese sandwich Right Now. I turn the heat up way too high and end up with a burnt outer and non-melted inner. It's tragic. S is a patient grilled cheese-maker. He keeps the heat low and he waits for the cheese to melt. This results in a perfectly melted, satisfyingly crisp (but not burnt) grilled cheese sandwich.

S is a musician. Musicians make me swoon. Whenever he plays a show, I get to go home with a real live Rock Star. It's hot. Do you want to support my starving artist? Go to itunes and search "fingersmoran". End salespitch now.

I am not petite. I'm tall-ish and clumsy and a bit of a blunderer. S makes me feel petite. He's very tall and has broad shoulders and when he hugs me, I feel minuscule (but in a good way.)

He loves chocolate almost as much as I do.

S is a very glass half-full kind of guy. He looks for the best in people. He is always willing to give people a second chance.

He tells me I'm skinny, even when I'm not.

When Stella has a Giant Lump of Doom on her back (more on this later), instead of telling me not to worry about it, he worries along with me. And then he lets me drag him to the vet Sunday morning when he'd rather be in bed. And doesn't laugh at me when we pay $34.13 for the vet to tell us it's nothing and we're crazy.

His favourite date night (watching the Canucks, eating pizza and drinking Coke from frosty mugs) is my favourite date night.

He watches America's Next Top Model with me and discusses each models' flaws.

He gives the best back rubs.

He makes up silly songs about Stella and sings them to me when she's done something annoying like eat my flowers.

When we share dessert, he lets me have the first and last bite.

He has decided that he wants to go somewhere tropical for his birthday instead of going to Alaska! Victory!

I Gotta Know You Now And Then

Because I'm tired and unoriginal:
(copied from Maxie)

1. Go to http://www.photobucket.com/
2. Type in your answer to the question in the “search” box
3. Use only the first page
4. Copy the html and paste for the answer.

1. What is your relationship status?



2. Who is your celebrity crush?



3. Who is your favorite band?



4. What is your favorite movie?



5. What kind of pet do you have?



6. Where do you live?



7. Where do you work?



8. What do you look like?


* I don't actually look like this but it was either animation or porn *

9. What do you drive?



10. What’s your favorite TV show?



11. Describe yourself.



12. What’s your name?



13. What’s your favorite candy?





The End.

Friday Night Last Orders At The Pub

I'm over my strop - I think I just needed to vent my spleen to get it out of my system. So, um, thanks for listening!

Westy's team is up 3-1 in their playoff series. They play again tonight. On one hand I hope they win so the series is over and they can have a rest before the next round of playoffs start. On the selfish hand, I kind of want them to lose so they have to play again tomorrow. There's a slight possibility I could drive up to Vernon tomorrow if they have a game.

After working really hard on the soul-sucking English course for the last month, I've now become sloth-like. I haven't touched it for a week. This is a bad plan because I've only got until the first week of May to write 2 papers and finish the readings. Maybe this weekend will be super-productive like last weekend. Or maybe I will spend the weekend being a lazy arse - who knows?

Daylight Savings kicked my ass this week. It has been so difficult to get out of bed in the morning when it's still pitch black outside. Plus it's been grey and rainy during the day (which might have also contributed to my tantrum.) I have spent the last week daydreaming about tropical locations. S has decided that he doesn't want to plan his 30th Birthday Holiday Extravaganza. He wants to leave it to the week before and try to get a last minute deal. The frugal part of me agrees with him - we can get more bang for our buck if we wait. The type-A, list-loving, planner part of me is not loving this plan so much. I need to plan. I need to prepare. This is S's birthday trip though, so I'm trying to chill out. If he wants to leave it to the last minute, we'll leave it to the last minute. I'm hoping that all the Alaskan cruises will be sold out if we leave it too long, meaning that we'll be forced to go somewhere warm and sunny.

Happy Friday!

Let's Go Another Round I Will Follow You Down And Out

My Entertainment Round-Up

Watching:

In the last week I've seen 2 movies (which is weird because generally speaking, I'm not a movie-going person) - Juno and Be Kind Rewind.

Juno was my choice. I loved it. I thought I wouldn't love it because I'm pretty much the last person on Earth to have seen it and it's been pretty hyped up. Usually when something has received a lot of hype, I am disappointed. Juno did not disappoint. At one point, S leaned over and told me that I remind him of Jennifer Garner. I was so flattered until he clarified that I don't remind him of Jennifer Garner because we're both stunningly gorgeous, but that I reminded him of Jennifer Garner's character when she made a comment about being ready for parenthood because she's "read all the books!" Whatever. I'd rather be well-read than gorgeous anyway.

Be Kind Rewind was S's choice. I'm a fan of Jack Black but ever since Nacho Libre I've been boycotting him. Nacho Libre = stupidest film I have ever seen. Not that I'd tell S that - he has a bit of a man-crush on Jack Black and Nacho Libre is one of his favourite Jack Black films. I prefer the Jack Black circa 2000 (aka the High Fidelity years.) I was pleasantly surprised though. Be Kind Rewind had an actual storyline, plot and conclusion. It was about 30 minutes too long but it wasn't an unbearable 30 minutes. Jack Black was funny without being too over the top. It was actually a pretty good film. More of a renter, in my opinion, but still worth seeing.

Reading:

I just finished Eat, Pray, Love (Elizabeth Gilbert.) I read this book because everyone seems to be reading it and everyone is saying it's the best! book! ever! Clearly this was a bad reason to read it (see above section re: hype.) I did not love this book. I didn't hate it; I just didn't love it. Reading it did not change my life. I did not have an epiphany while reading this book. I thought Elizabeth Gilbert was a bit whiny. Instead of absorbing every word, I used a lot of mental energy willing her to shut up. Which is stupid - I should have just stopped reading it. The problem is that I'm unable to not finish a book once I start. The book wasn't bad - I'm not saying you shouldn't read it. I'm just saying you shouldn't expect a lot from it. It's a perfectly nice book - it's just not something amazing.

I've moved on to Devil in the Details: Scenes from an Obsessive Girlhood (Jennifer Traig.) I'm loving this book (probably because I often catch myself being a bit OCD.) I'm only about a quarter through it so I shouldn't judge it yet, but I can tell I'm going to enjoy this book. It's not as funny as I thought it would be but it's funny enough.

Listening:

I've been going through a bit of a music drought recently. I haven't been excited about an album since I bought the Fratelli's album a few months ago. Does anyone have any suggestions? I've got an eclectic taste in music - I'll listen to pretty much anything (except for rap or country - and by "country" I mean "country ... except for Willie Nelson because Willie Nelson rocks and if you don't agree I'll kick you in the shins.")

The Whole Damn World Invited Themselves To My Sunday BBQ

I had a really nice, chilled-out weekend.

Friday night I stayed downtown after work and had dinner with a friend I haven't seen in a while. It's a bit ridiculous - I moved from downtown the week she moved downtown. She's one of my Best Ladies so it's a bit sad that we don't see each other more often. Now that the wedding is less than 5 months away (gulp) I'm sure we'll see each other more often as I impose Best Lady duties on her.

After dinner I decided to forgo the Wild Night Out she had planned with a few of our other friends and went home to do homework. I actually managed to finish an assignment this weekend (hello Miss Efficient) so the soul-sucking English course is sucking a little less soul. There's just 7 weeks left until I write the exam and for the first time I actually feel like I might be done the coursework before then.

Saturday was spent bbq shopping. When we finally stopped renting and bought a condo, getting a puppy and a bbq were the things we were most looking forward to. I didn't think that getting a bbq would be such an ordeal. S dragged me to 4 (4!) stores before we finally found an acceptable bbq. It was ridiculous. I have never seen him so indecisive. I was no help at all, seeing as I know nothing about buying a bbq. My criteria was 'can it cook a burger? yes? sold!' but apparently there's more to it than that. After 3 hours of bqq shopping (I thought my head was going to explode) we finally decided on an electric bbq. You didn't know they make electric bbq's? We didn't either, until we reached the 4th store. The conversation went a little like this:

Me: Why do they make electric bbq's?
S: I don't know. Why not?
Me: Maybe some municipalities don't allow gas bbq's on balconies.
S: Maybe. Does our municipality allow gas bbq's on balconies?
Me: I don't know. You were in charge of the BBQ Acquisition Plan.
S: Well maybe we should get the electric.
Me: That would mean that we wouldn't ever have to worry about filling the propane tank.
S: And you wouldn't ever blow up the condo. (Which is harsh but ultimately fair)
Me: Sold!

So we brought home our cute little electric bbq and proceeded to bbq everything in the fridge.

After we tested out the bbq we watched the Canucks hand the Blues their asses on a platter.

Speaking of asses on platters, Westy's hockey team routed Vernon in both of their playoff games this weekend. Westy got 1 goal and 2 assists (not too shabby for a defenseman!) though the second assist was actually his goal until another player claimed he deflected it. There's no video replay so they have to take the player's word for it. Such drama on the ice. Anyway, his team had 2 big wins and Westy played 2 great games so hopefully the scouts were out that night.

Sunday was spent doing homework and watching a bizarre documentary on classic video games. We decided to hold off on painting the bathroom because I've changed my mind about the colour (shocking, I know.) I'm leaning towards moss green now.

* Update * Westy's goal was credited back to him so in 2 playoff games he's got 2 goals and 1 assist. Such a star, if you ask me (though that might be my big sister bias talking.)

Your Face Reminds Me Of A Flower

I was feeling a bit blue so I bought some gerbera daisies. Turns out that Stella is a big fan. Please note the inquisitive nose ...

My puppy is rotten but adorable.

All Dressed Up To Catch A Glimpse Of The List

Hi! My name is Hillary and I'm getting married in 5 months. Am I ready to get married in 5 months? Not so much.

According to Martha Stewart, things we haven't done yet (that we should have already) include:

- compile guests' addresses
- book officiant
- book florist
- book photographer
- plan honeymoon
- arrange wedding day transportation
- purchase or reserve groom's attire
- purchase bride's shoes, accessories, jewelry, etc.
- choose attendants' attire
- choose favours
- choose gifts for wedding party
- arrange accommodation for out-of-town guests

This list will grow when we reach the 4 month mark. I can't wait.

Are we woefully behind? Yes. Can we be arsed to do anything about it? No. For some reason, we cannot motivate ourselves to actually get 'er done. I love lists. I'm a big fan of making lists and then checking things off of said list. This list? This wedding list of stress and horribleness? I do not love it so much.

The list I do love is the List of Already Accomplished Wedding Shite (this list is so important that it's capitalized)

- book wedding / reception venue
- plan menu
- invitations
- wedding dress
- make guest list
- order wedding cake (or, in our case, cupcake tower)

I wish that this list was longer.

Then there's the list of things I want to do instead of wedding planning:

- paint the bathroom
- not fail the soul sucking English course
- put Stella in puppy school
- go on holiday for S's 30th birthday
- actually have a house-warming party (even though we moved ohhh 4 months ago ... which brings us to my next point)
- finish unpacking (I'm not proud)

I'm starting to have nightmares about a half-planned wedding. You'd think this would motivate me to do something about it. But you'd be wrong.

I'd Just Like To Try Some Carrot Cake And Wine

Friday was my dad's birthday so we had everyone over for dinner. I made carrot pie for dessert. It really is made from carrots, I promise. I can't describe it - it's sort of similar to pumpkin pie because it uses the same spices, but it's also very different. It's lighter than pumpkin pie and almost ... fresher (for lack of a better word.) The topping is a pecan-crunch that I could probably eat just on its own.




I've never been a fan of quiche but I made one for the vegetarians. It turns out that I love veggie quiche. Probably because I used a shameful amount of cheese (a shameful amount of 2 types of cheese) so it wasn't so much a veggie quiche as it was a cheese pie. Cheese is my crack so I shouldn't be surprised that I liked the quiche.



Other than the family dinner my weekend has been tame. I'm still sick and I'm woefully behind in my soul sucking english course. I spent the day writing a paper and feeling very bitter about it. It's finished now though and I am officially halfway through the course. Which means that tomorrow I get to be a slacker. My plans so far are to sleep in and then watch the Canucks game. Hopefully Stella agrees with the sleeping in part of my plan.

Update: It's 7:30 Sunday morning and Stella has spent the last 20 minutes whining (even though I managed to stumble outside with her at 7 for her morning pee, she's had food and water and she's got toys to keep her satisfied.) She just wants to play. And so here I am, on my sleep-in-morning, up before 8am. I do not love it.