Tuesday, 30 September 2008

I Don't Want Pork Chops And Bacon

My slowcooker spent the summer on the shelf that I can't reach without the help of a stool (or a Shawn.) We aren't ready to retire the bbq yet but we're also not willing to use it in the rain, (I'm not convinced that it's safe. Electric bbq + rain = disaster? Anyone have any thoughts on this?) so the slowcooker awoke from his summer slumber last night (my slowcooker is definitely a "he" - don't ask me why, it's just a vibe I get.) This morning, I woke up hours before my alarm went off to the gorgeous smell of pork simmering away in chicken broth, onions and an absurd number of garlic cloves. I hate pork - HATE IT - with the exception of bbq pulled pork. There's something luxurious about pulled pork (it probably has something to do with the amount of time it takes to make it.) Stella was having a fit in her crate and as soon as I unlatched it she tore out of the bedroom, intent on finding the source of the yummy smells. I may or may not have spooned some of the cooking broth over her kibble this morning (just don't tell Shawn - I'm pretty sure that her digestive system would not have appreciated my gesture and he probably had a few surprises to deal with after I left for work.)

The pork has to cook overnight because it needs a full 12 hours to reach its full tender-potential. If it's not tender enough it won't shred properly. The shreddiness is the key to good pulled pork. I shredded the pork this morning before putting it in the fridge (it won't shred properly if it's too cold.) Tonight I will mix the meat with some Coke and bbq sauce and bake it in the oven for an hour. Shawn will have his pulled pork on a crusty roll but I'll eat mine on a green salad so I can pretend that I'm healthy. If I'm feeling ambitious, I'll bake an acorn squash and serve the pork in it.

Can you tell it's lunchtime? I am so hungry.

I seem to be really bad at updates lately. I posted briefly about Stella's contest and going to Montreal and the epic party and our furniture angst but I failed to follow up. Now that the wedding recap is finally finished (umm...WAHOO!) I have no excuse. This will be a week of updates. Pictures included.

Monday, 29 September 2008

When I See The Apple In Disguise

Saturday morning, Turtle and I set off on a road trip. We took the old highway even though the day before, the BC Liberals had taken the toll off of the Coquihalla Highway. Turtle likes the old highway better and unless it's raining, I can't be bothered to argue. Turtle is persuasive. It's a four and a half hour drive from my house to Penticton but it takes longer when you stop at fruit stands to buy bags of crisp, wax-free apples and giant acorn squash and peaches (in September!) and that yummy red garlic that costs so much in the city.

The South Okanagan Events Centre is not complete yet but was granted a temporary occupancy permit for Saturday night's game. When we drove by earlier in the day, we could see a bunch of construction workers milling about. The penalty box was welded an hour before the game started. The floor was covered in concrete dust. It was exciting, though, to see my brother play in such a large arena. The building holds 5,000 and it sold out for Saturday night's game.

Westy didn't score any goals (though he did score in Friday night's game - Go, Westy!) but his team still pummeled the other team, 4-0.

We got home late last night, after hitting some nasty bridge traffic. Today I'm at work but I can't stop thinking about the peaches sitting on my counter at home. I've decided to make peach cobbler, but I can't figure out whether the peaches need to be peeled or not. I've never made a peach pie or cobbler before. Do you leave the skins on? They're not tough like an apple skin. The lazy part of me thinks that I should leave them on. I don't want to ruin this peach cobbler, though. This is the last of the summer fruit. I want this peach cobbler to knock me on my ass.

Friday, 26 September 2008

ABC 123 Baby You And Me Girl - Part 8

Wedding Recap A - D
Wedding Recap E - H
Wedding Recap I - K
Wedding Recap L
Wedding Recap M - O
Wedding Recap P - R
Wedding Recap S - U

Veil: I didn't wear a veil. I hate having hair flying around my face and I thought a veil would be sort of like that, only worse. I wanted to keep things simple.

Venue: I am so happy that we chose the Irish Pub. The event-planning people there kind of sucked, though they'd never done a wedding before so I can't be too critical. The servers and bartenders were fabulous.

Wedding jitters: All day I was on a bit of a high. I was jittery and a bit manic but I didn't start to feel nervous until five minutes before the ceremony started. Then? I felt like I might vomit. This is one of my favourite photos that Angella took. Turtle and one of my favourite aunts are both trying - unsuccessfully - to calm me down before we headed up to the patio for the ceremony.

Xcellence: (Hey, remember way back at 'E' when I did 'expressions' and I was all "at least I didn't put this under 'x' and make it 'xpressions' ... you would have permission to kick me in the shin if I did that."? If you know me in real life, you now have permission to kick me in the shin.)

My Mom is a beautiful lady but she always manages to look awkward and uncomfortable in photos. I love this photo of her.

I think Turtle looks gorgeous in the photo. I love how the sun is hitting her and making her glow.

This photo makes me laugh. It was taken as we walked back up the aisle after the ceremony and you can see how relieved we both are that the ceremony was over.

Cupcakes make me happy.

This is the Best Photo Sequence Ever. We decided to do a few cheesy wedding shots so Angella told us to look around the tree trunk at each other.

You can see why this guy cracks me up.

Yellow: Some of the centrepieces had yellow flowers. A lot of the flowers weren't yellow but I couldn't come up with another 'Y'. Don't judge.

Zee End: Yeah, I went there.

Thursday, 25 September 2008

Swinging Her Handbag Back And Forth So Joyfully

Do you love handbags?

Handbag Planet is launching October 15th. To celebrate they are giving away 1 handbag every hour for 24 hours.

Register here. You know you want to...

(that last bit was for you, Over-Thinker!)

Wednesday, 24 September 2008

The Angel And The Jerk

This does not bode well for our new furniture.

In other, related, news, I have been informed that I am 100% not receiving another puppy for my birthday.

she looks so angelic when she sleeps - unfortunately, I know from experience that she's just plotting her next move

Remember The Arch Of Roses Right Above Your Couch

When Shawn I bought our condo, we decided that we didn't need a kitchen table. We decided to use that space for a small computer desk for my computer. Shawn's is set up in the den, or the 'conservatory' as we've started calling it (we're fancy like that.) We moved my computer into the conservatory a few weeks ago when we gave Shawn's computer to his dad. Thus began our search for a kitchen table.

It was a long, arduous search. There were a few tantrums. A few false alarms (we ordered the coolest table + bar stool set before we, um, measured the floor space. We were off by 8 inches. Order was canceled.) On Sunday, we found the perfect table + chair set. It was perfect on its own, but the 20% off + no sales tax certainly added to its appeal.

We were so high on the thought that we were finished furniture shopping, we bought a leather reclining sofa as well (sales people love us.) We had to get rid of our old sofa (the one that we bought "as is" 3 years ago - the one that a leg broke off of 2 years and 51 weeks ago) and computer desk so Shawn called a junk removal company yesterday. They took away the couch (Stella is so sad to lose her giant chew toy) and desk and a few other bits and pieces.

Unfortunately, we have yet to hear from the furniture store as to when our new items will be delivered. Which means that for now, our living room / kitchen looks like this:

It's so bright and airy, right? So spacious.

Don't mind the messy kitchen counter - it's Shawn's turn to do the dishes.
That's a total lie - we're just slobby.

Stella is very possessive of her chair. Sometimes she lets me sit on the footstool. Most of the time she just glares at me until I move.

Tuesday, 23 September 2008

Black Rum, Sugar Cane Dry Ice, Somethin' Strange

Remember last week how I was all "I want to be a runner! I'm going to run places and get fit and have a cute little runner's bum!"? How times have changed. This week, my refrain goes a little like this, "I'm so brooooken. I'm a cripple! I'll never walk properly again."

It's all Stella's fault. She's always under foot. Usually I think it's funny because she's tripping other people. People who don't expect a freaking dog to act like a cat (you know, all twisty through your legs, trying to get attention.) Except that when it happens to me, it's not so funny. When it happens to me, not only do I trip - I trip and kick my foot out and hit the corner of the coffee table. I hit my Achilles on the coffee table. You know, the thing that makes you walk properly? Well when you bruise it SEVERELY, you don't walk properly. In fact, you walk kind of fucked up. And you cry a lot. And then, when the bruising and swelling spreads to the front of your leg (wtf is that?) you go to the walk-in clinic (because you are still contemplating breaking up with your doctor, but you haven't found a new doctor yet, and whoa boy, that is another story altogether) and the doctor there won't prescribe you the good stuff, like you were hoping, but instead gives you a physio referral. Physio that you can't afford. So hi, my name is Hillary and I NEED A CANE.

Monday, 22 September 2008

Plus Ca Change Plus C'est La Meme Chose

The Over-Thinker tagged me in this evil meme because she hates me. I need to list 36 (36!!) things about myself that you (probably) don't know. I am currently plotting my revenge against the Over-Thinker; suggestions are welcome.

1. My birthday is October 12. It always falls on or around Canadian Thanksgiving which means that I get a 3-day weekend for my birthday. I love it. I get pumpkin pie instead of birthday cake. I will never grow tired of pumpkin pie.

2. I have 3 siblings. When I was a kid, we were a family of six living in a 3-bedroom house. I disliked Turtle so much that I chose to share a room with Bow and Westy (I know, right? Poor Westy. He was really little though, so I don't think he minded.) If I had to share a room with one of my siblings now? It would definitely be Turtle.

3. I am constantly finding new things to become obsessed with. I latch onto them (diets, exercise regimens, flossing) for a few weeks and then lose interest just as quickly.

4. I have worn contacts or glasses since I was twelve years old. As soon as I conquer my fear of the smell of burning, I am getting laser eye surgery.

5. My list of phobias is long and varied: snakes, sharks, bugs, vomit, death (not mine - the death of people who I love) etc.

6. I hate raisins. I hate them baked into things (quickest way to ruin a cookie.) I hate them on their own. I especially hate them when they're handed out as Hallowe'en treats.

7. For my tenth birthday, I asked for a bird. I got a fish tank.

8. I tried to love the fish tank but I gave up after I accidentally cranked up the heat and boiled all my fish. This stands out as one of the most traumatizing events of my childhood.

9. My mom didn't allow a lot of processed foods or sugar in the house when we were growing up. I hated being the kid who brought vegetable sandwiches on whole wheat bread to school. I coveted other kids' Oreos and fruit snacks. Now that I make my own food decisions, I find myself drawn to the healthy foods my mom brought us up on. I'm grateful to her but I will probably never tell her that.

10. Though I enjoy a wide range of really healthy foods, I have a disgusting sweet tooth. I am surprised that I have not given myself diabetes yet. I should be more concerned about this, as my maternal grandmother was diabetic.

11. I hated my name when I was a kid. In school I was the only Hillary in a sea of Jennifers. When I lived in England, it was bizarre to meet other people with my name.

12. It really REALLY annoys me when people spell my name with one L. I understand that it's more commonly spelled with one L. I don't expect people to intuitively know that my name is spelled with two L's. However, if I have told you how to spell my name, or I have emailed you (my email address contains my name,) or left a comment on your blog, I think it's rude to spell my name wrong. This makes me overly conscious of the spelling of other people's names. If I spell your name wrong, I will feel horrible (probably more horrible than is justifiable.)

13. My mom used to give us one "family gift" every Christmas. When I was seven the family gift was a baseball glove. This is the only reason I joined the North Delta Softball Association. I'm so glad that I did; I played for fifteen years and met some of my best friends on the various teams I played for.

14. When I was five-ish years old, I was playing in a friend's backyard. We were trying to walk across a retaining wall dividing her neighbour's yard from her mom's rock garden. I fell off and ended up needing 4 stitches in my lower back. I still have a nasty, puckered scar that I am very self-conscious of. I am mildly grateful for this scar, as it prevented me from getting a tramp stamp (ha! thanks Overthinker!) during my teen years.

15. I have two tattoos. Getting them did not hurt as much as getting my belly button pierced did. I will probably get more tattoos. I will never get anything pierced again. When I got my belly button pierced, I went into shock. It stayed sore for months. It got infected numerous times. It would get caught in my clothing. I finally took it out after five years. That was two years ago and I still have a little hole.

16. Growing up, my aunt (yes, Auntie Batshit) used to tell me and my sisters that we needed to be at least 5'10" so we would "be able to control our future husbands." I never understood this, as Auntie Batshit is very tall and has been married to the same abusive mofo for 40(ish?) years. Even though I'm 5'8", I have never felt tall enough.

17. My middle name is Dawn. My mom said it's because dawn is her favourite time of day. I'm calling bullshit on this one. No-one likes dawn. I think she was just trying to make me feel like my middle name had meaning.

18. My brother has two middle names - one is my mom's maiden name and one is my grandpa's name (also my dad's middle name.) I feel envious that my brother got meaningful, family names. If I ever have kids, I will either give all of them a family name or none of them.

19. Four years ago I moved to England to be a nanny. I also worked as a barmaid in a pub. I can pull a perfect pint.

20. I lived in England but I traveled to Scotland, Ireland, France and Italy. I also traveled extensively in England.

21. My favourite place in England is Marlow.

22. The thing I miss most about England is definitely my friends, but the food is a close second. I have not had decent fish & chips since moving back to Canada.

23. My mom sent me care packages while I was gone. Once she mailed me a bag of ketchup chips (they don't have them in England - this blew my mind.) She didn't put them in a box though, so they arrived completely smashed. I'm not joking - the bag was flat. There were no discernible chips in the bag - just crumbs. I ate them anyway.

24. When I was in grade 7, a boy had a giant crush on me. He would send me love letters and give me presents. I was mortified. Shawn's middle name is the same name as this boy.

25. I wish that I had even half of Shawn's musical ability.

26. I wish that I had a good singing voice.

27. I make really good cookies. Last night I made chewy oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and I'm eating one right now. All I need now is a cuppa tea to make my afternoon complete.

28. I like my tea brewed very strong and with both milk and sugar. I felt so inadequate when I lived in England and asked for sugar.

29. I love pickles. I love dill pickles, garlic pickles, any type of pickle (as long as it's not sweet - those pickles are nasty.) My Auntie Ollie made the best pickles. I could eat a disgusting amount of her pickles in one sitting. She died a year and a half ago. I do not know how to make Auntie Ollie's pickles.

30. I swear. A lot. My dad calls it my "dock talk" because I swear like a sailor. I should probably try to stop but I can't be arsed.

31. When I sleep, I am always freezing. My body radiates heat though, so Shawn doesn't believe me when I say I'm cold. Until I put my feet on his legs - my feet are always like ice.

32. Stella is the first pet I've owned that I've been responsible for. Every day I am afraid of breaking her. I'm pretty sure that I shouldn't have kids because my head will melt.

33. I drive a stick shift. For some reason this feels like an accomplishment.

34. My monthly transit pass costs less than monthly parking downtown so even though I have a car, I take transit to work. I used to live close enough to walk to work but then we decided to buy a home. Vancouver's real estate market makes me want to jump off a bridge.

35. I would love to live in Europe again but I think that Canada will always feel like home.

36. I hate doing memes because I feel immense pressure to be witty. I will never not do a meme if tagged though, because I don't want to let the tagger down. So don't tag me! Do us both a favour.

Right, so now I have to tag someone. I will be tagging Alice, because she tagged me in the addiction meme. Let that be a lesson to you, Alice.

Jenny Said When She Was Just Five Years Old

I got tagged for two memes last week, courtesy of Alice and the Over-Thinker. I'm starting with Alice's because it's the shortest of the two. I need to list five addictions and then tag two people.

1. Baked goods. I love baked goods. Cookies, muffins, pastries, the list is endless. I could never be carb-free. Life would honestly not be worth living.

2. Cheese. I eat cheese every day. I could never give up cheese. Blue cheese is the only cheese I do not love.

3. Puppies! I love all puppies, not just Stella. I have been on a months-long mission to get Shawn to agree to getting another puppy. I've been pretty unsuccessful so far but my birthday is in 3 weeks, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Whenever Shawn asks what I want for my birthday, I tell him all I want is a puppy. He is not pleased with me.

4. Email. I'm not a big phone person. I can't make it through the day without checking my email at least once. I do not understand people (my mother) who check their email once a week.

5. Trashy television. I'm not proud. I love me some America's Next Top Model and The Hills. Don't judge.

I'm supposed to tag two people, but I'm just going to tag the Over-Thinker because she tagged me. I'm vengeful like that.

Friday, 19 September 2008

ABC 123 Baby You And Me Girl - Part 7

Wedding Recap A - D
Wedding Recap E - H
Wedding Recap I - K
Wedding Recap L
Wedding Recap M - O
Wedding Recap P - R

Siblings: My siblings were rockstars. Especially Turtle (I can say that because she's the only one of my siblings that knows about this blog.) They all put up with my craziness. They all stood up for me and Shawn. I love them.

Turtle, Westy, me and Bow

Speeches: The speeches surprised me. We didn't focus too much on them during the planning stage because we didn't want anyone to feel pressured.

Turtle and Bow both made very touching speeches.

Turtle won because she didn't cry while making her speech but she made me cry.

Shawn's brother made a sweet and (thankfully) non-scandalous speech.

My parents said a few words.

There was a lot of laughing during the speeches.

And a few tears.

Shawn and I were planning to say a few words, thanking everyone, but we didn't actually plan out what we were going to say. We made our speech after all the other speeches (and after the tequila shots. And double gin & tonics) so I was feeling a bit verklempt. All I managed to slur was "Thank you everyone for being here. Thank you to everyone who helped us plan. Thanks for not calling me crazy to my face." Yes, I am a classy one. It was fine though, I had written a small thank you note to our guests in our program so I didn't feel like too much of an ass.

Surprise: Shawn wrote the processional music. He also convinced his old band to play Summer of '69. It wasn't a puppy, but I was still happy. He's not an overly romantic person but sometimes he whips out the thoughtfulness and makes me forget about the pile of dirty socks sitting in front of the hamper.

Ties: I dislike solid-coloured ties. Shawn hates patterned ties. I did a poll and the stripey ties won (and I didn't even fix the results!) The Best Men wore stripey ties and Shawn wore a solid-coloured tie. That's called compromise, baby. See how good we are at being married?

Underwear: That would be my dad, showing off his lucky Irish boxers. Thanks, dad.

The end is in sight, peeps. I smell one more post until the wedding recap is finished. Finally. I'm not sure who is more excited - me or you?

Just Talkin' To Yourself Is Cheating

Cheating on Shawn over here.

Thursday, 18 September 2008

Shoot The Runner

I went for a run last night. It's been a long time since I've gone for a sweaty, lose your breath, feel like you're going to die, run. About, oh, a month ago I bought some new running gear with the logic being that if I spent $150 on running pants and a running bra, I would feel guilty enough about the money spent to actually use them. Clearly that worked out really well for me, seeing as last night was the first time I've actually worn them.

My running pants have a tiny little pocket in the waistband. What is this pocket for? It's about credit card-sized, so I was thinking it might be for id. But how uncomfortable would that be? Also, don't hardcore runners write their name and phone number in their shoe? I put dog treats in the little pocket but then I forgot about them and Stella scared the crap out of me later on, when I was dying on the couch, because I thought she was trying to eat my stomach.

We live in a very hilly area. As I was on my way up what felt like the eightieth hill of the night, I decided that Shawn and I need to move to the Prairies. Enough of this mountainous region shite. We need to live somewhere flat so I don't die when I go on my one run of the year.

I don't think I'm cut out to be a runner. I think I may have dislocated my ass cheeks. Don't ask me to describe it, because I can't. All I know is that my ass cheeks were moving independently of the rest of my body whenever I was running downhill.

Today? I hurt. I was two hours late for work this morning. I told my boss it was because I woke up with a migraine but really it was because I couldn't move my legs. Do people do this for fun?

Wednesday, 17 September 2008

I Blabber The Weird Grammar Due To Listening To Hits Like A Hammer

Last night I saw Burn After Reading. I don't put much stock in movie reviews, which is a good thing or else I wouldn't have gone. What is with everyone hating this film? I loved it. I loved everything about it. Okay, not everything; there was one scene that kind of ruined it for me a little. I'm not a fan of gratuitous gore. Apart from those eight seconds, it was a fabulous film. It was the first film I've seen in a long time that I was still thinking about when I left the theatre. In fact, I'm still thinking about it today. The only thing that would have made it even better (apart from taking out the gross part) would be the inclusion of Christopher Walken. I don't know why, I just got a Christopher Walken vibe from it.

Today is a crappy day at work. I didn't have time to grab a real lunch, so I picked up a fake lunch. A lunch that you cook in the microwave. A lunch that has a list of ingredients with no recognizable foods on it. A lunch formed of chemicals. A lunch that is cooked in the plastic cup it comes in, meaning that not only am I eating the chemicals that are intended to be in the food, but also the chemicals that leech out of the plastic when put in the microwave. And I burned my tongue. My fake lunch probably contained a million calories but you wouldn't know it from the grumbling nosies that are emanating from my stomach right now. Why is eating healthy so difficult? I love vegetables. I need a farm stand beside my office instead of a drug store.

I feel fat and chemical-ridden and the only way to alleviate my angst is to watch America's Next Top Model tonight. I really hate that I love this show. Tonight is the makeover night, which means that someone is going to cry about their hair and then I'll be all "ha ha, sucka! oh wait ..." but then I will feel better about myself because my crappy haircut wasn't broadcast on national television and the skinny bitch (because wow - they are ALL SO SKINNY this season) doesn't have an Over-Thinker to make her feel better.

I reread the contest rules and it turns out that the photo of Stella needs to be a recent one. None of my photos are that recent. I was just going to lie (the logic being that they would have no way of finding out) but then I realized that the file details contain the date the picture was taken. Is there a way to delete the file details? Or should I just take a new picture so I don't risk disqualification?

Now Don't Be Sad 'Cause Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad

I'm not going to lie, Shawn pretty much married me because of this meatloaf. I don't want to brag but it is the best effing meatloaf you will ever eat. Unless you don't eat meat, in which case you should cry because you will never get to taste the wonder that is this meatloaf.

don't let this picture deceive you, this meatloaf does not taste like it looks

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

In a large bowl, lightly beat 1 large egg.


1 small onion, diced finely

at least 2 large cloves of garlic, minced (I use 3 or 4, depending on the size)

fresh rosemary, finely chopped (you want to end up with about 1 teaspoon of finely (we're talking the consistency of dust) chopped rosemary)

1 cup fine, dry bread crumbs

between 1/3 and 1/2 cup ketchup

1.5 Tablespoons Worcestershire sauce (I usually use more but I love the stuff)

1 teaspoon Tobasco sauce

pinch of salt

Mix it up until you've got a paste. Mix in a package of extra lean ground beef. You're shooting for between 1 and 1.5 pounds of beef. At this point you have to get right in with your hands and smoosh it all together.

Put about half of the mixture into a regular-sized loaf pan. Add a layer of grated cheese (I use about a cup of extra-old cheddar.) Top with the rest of the beef. I always put a bit more cheese on top. Not enough to completely cover the meatloaf (otherwise you end up with a nasty skin on your meatloaf) but just enough to form some crunchy parts.

Bake for 45 minutes, or until internal temperature reaches 160 degrees F. I used to make this in a dark-coloured nonstick pan and it would take about 10 - 15 minutes less time to cook. Now I make it in a glass loaf pan and it takes the full 45 minutes.

Top with tomato sauce (or gravy, if that's how you roll.)

Last night I served the meatloaf with green salad and garlic-mashed potatoes (topped with baked potato toppings because we are fat kids.)

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

ABC 123 Baby You And Me Girl - Part 6

Wedding Recap A - D
Wedding Recap E - H
Wedding Recap I - K
Wedding Recap L
Wedding Recap M - O

Photographs: We decided to do the photos before the wedding started. I really dislike being at a wedding and having it broken up by three hours of photographs. Also, we really didn't want to miss any of our own wedding. We decided to do the photos at Stanley Park because there are so many picturesque spots. I didn't count on the traffic jam we ended up getting stuck in though. This meant that we were a bit rushed, but we ended up with a lot of great shots. Also, it was freaking hot out and we probably wouldn't have lasted much longer in the sun anyway.

I was worried about the pictures because Shawn's Mom had requested that we stagger it so that she wouldn't be there at the same time as Shawn's Dad. We needed everyone to go at the same time though, because the park is so large and parking is difficult and it would be such a waste of time if someone got lost. Everything was fine though; Angella even got Shawn's Mom and Dad in a picture together. Granted they're not standing beside each other, but who cares? They're in the same photo and they're both smiling. No-one saw that one coming.

We did the photos with the parents first so they could leave and go back to the pub.

That's when things got fun. We headed out to the Rose Garden (which was surprisingly empty) and took some photos.

That's when we noticed the motorcycle cops. Good times were had by all.

Questions: I can't think of a "Q" category, so it will have to be "questions." If anyone has wedding-related questions, I'll answer them in the comments.

Rehearsal dinner: We didn't have one. We didn't have access to the pub. We didn't want to pay the commissioner a rehearsal fee. Shawn's parents couldn't handle being together in such a small group. I was fine having no rehearsal dinner - it meant that the night before the wedding Shawn and I had a nice, quiet dinner together. It would have been smart to have some sort of run-through though. We were pretty disorganized when it came to the actual ceremony. I'm not exaggerating when I say that we figured out the walking order in the stairwell, as the processional music was already playing. That was my true bridezilla moment. I was snappy and churlish and had to do some serious apologizing to my parents and Best Ladies after the ceremony was over.

Monday, 15 September 2008

So I'm Watching The Weather Channel

When I was fourteen, my best friend decided to lop off her blond, curly locks. I supported her decision. I went with her to the salon. I walked home with her afterward and tried to reassure her, through her sobs, that she did not look like a boy. Not only that, I then persuaded her to dye her hair (what was left of it) bright red. Clearly, I am an asshole. (What can I say? She had bigger boobs that I had. I was just trying to level the playing field.)

The lesson here is that if you get a bad haircut, don't come running to me to make you feel better. I'll make the situation worse. Instead, can I suggest that you turn to the Over-Thinker? She will convince you to send her a picture of your horrible, flippy, weather girl hair and then get her graphic designer husband to create this masterpiece:

She will also give you a weather girl name. Until the hair grows out, you can call me Sunny McDeweyrain.

Saturday, 13 September 2008

You Are Going To Find A Way To Fix What's Broken

Last night Shawn met me downtown after work so we could pick up our costumes for the "white trash" party we're going to tonight. It's the birthday party of a close friend of Shawn's, so instead of trying to explain how offensive it is to be having a white trash party, I'm just shutting up and going along with it. The thing is, this friend is a little WT anyway. We were over there a few weeks ago, having a few beers on his patio. When you finish your beer? You throw the can over the railing into the yard.

So we get our supplies (yes, I will be posting pictures tomorrow) and decide to get hot dogs from a street vendor. We were both hungry and didn't feel like bothering with the Friday night crowd at a restaurant. So street meat it was. And it was fabulous.

We came home and decided to open a bottle of champagne. Because hot dogs and champagne are a good combo. Don't judge. The thing is, once you open a bottle of champagne you have to drink the entire bottle of champagne. Which we did. Which led to Shawn spilling a glass on the bed (and Stella, who was lying on the bed.) So I drunkenly tried to bathe Stella, which did not go well, while Shawn decided to order a pizza. After the disaster that was Stella's bath, I decided we needed more beverages. I grabbed the vodka out of the freezer and turned back to the counter. I didn't slam the freezer door but I kind of nudged it closed as I turned around. So I didn't see the bottle of wine that was precariously balanced on top of the fridge start to tip when the freezer door made contact. The bottle of (red) wine fell from the top of the fridge straight down onto the kitchen floor (ceramic tile) and shattered. It was the biggest mess I have ever been responsible for. So Shawn and I are picking up the glass and mopping up the wine and the freaking pizza arrives. Awesome. Shawn deals with the pizza man while I try to sop up the wine from the tile grout. The tile grout that I painstakingly applied sealant to last summer. Sealant that clearly did not work, as the tile grout is now stained a deep purple. Only in areas where the wine hit though, so right now we have multi-coloured tile grout. It looks like I will be painstakingly applying red wine to the tile grout this summer. Is this a bad idea? Because I'm not kidding - that's the only solution I can think of so far. Admittedly, I've only tried to think of a solution when I've been either a: drunk or b: hungover, so something may come to me when my head is feeling a bit more clear.

We eat our (cold) pizza and drink our beverages and the night is looking up again when Shawn walks into the den and knocks a picture off the wall, sending it crashing to the den floor to shatter in a million pieces.

And then we go to bed.

This morning my head huts, my feet and fingertips are covered in tiny cuts, my kitchen floor is a different colour than it was yesterday morning, there are wine-stained rags in a heap on my balcony and my condo (and dog) smell like a winery. I think the universe is trying to tell me something, I just can't figure out what.

Thursday, 11 September 2008

ABC 123 Baby You And Me Girl - Part 5

Wedding Recap A-D
Wedding Recap E - H
Wedding Recap I - K
Wedding Recap L

Music: Shawn's area of expertise. During the before-the-ceremony-mingling period, he compiled a mix of traditional Irish music. It should be noted that I was completely against this ("who plays Irish music in an Irish pub? It's so obvious! And cheesy!") but it actually turned out well. The processional (? I always forget the name for the walky-down-the-aisle bit and I'm too lazy to look it up) music was a song that Shawn composed. For me. Because he is a sweetheart like that. That was actually part of the surprise.

After dinner, the dj played for a bit and then the bands played. Shawn played a set with his old band and then played some of his newer stuff with a few of his musician friends. The other part of my surprise was that he covered "Summer of '69" with his old band. The singer wouldn't sing it though, so Shawn sang. It was fabulous. I honestly don't even like that song that much but it always gets everyone out on the dance floor.

Our dj was really great - he didn't play any crap, even though there was one lady (a friend of Shawn's friend, so no-one is taking responsibility for her suckiness) who asked him to play "I Kissed a Girl" every ten minutes. Even though he told her that we had specifically asked him not to play that song. We hadn't, but I appreciated his lie.

Non-Traditional: I don't think our wedding strayed too far from what you could consider a traditional wedding. I don't even think that you could really define what a traditional wedding is, nowadays. However, I cannot think of an "n" subject, so you're getting a list of the non-traditional aspects of our wedding:

We got married on the roof-top balcony of an Irish Pub.

The reception was held in the pub.

Both of my parents walked me down the aisle. It was important to me to have both parents by my side.

I wore flowers in my hair instead of a veil.

We served non-traditional food like burgers and corn on the cob.

The Best Ladies wore different-coloured dresses.

We did the photographs before the ceremony.

Officers. Of the law: Photo props. Highlight of the afternoon (the wedding ceremony was technically in the evening, so I'm not heartless for saying that.)

We were in Stanley Park taking photos and we noticed some motorcycle cops looking at us.

We asked if they wanted to be in the pictures with us and they offered to position their bikes in front of the gardens and let us sit on them.

It was a riot.
We were laughing so hard the entire time.
One officer gave Shawn his ticket book and Shawn wrote me a ticket for "being too hot."
He then proceeded to put the ticket down the front of my dress. He's classy like that.