Pull This Blanket Off Of Me

Friday Faff: Scattered (well, more scattered than usual) Thoughts Edition

I haven't faffed in a while and there are approximately a billion thoughts bouncing around in my head so here we go.

I have an appointment at a sleep disorder clinic this morning. Not a sleep disorder clinic, the sleep disorder clinic. I feel so much pressure - should I not be drinking coffee right now so that I'm not coherent when I go to the appointment? Should I not wear eye makeup so that I look extra sleepy? I am fretting. I thought that this appointment meant that I was accepted into the program but it just means that I passed the initial review process. Wish me luck!

* * * * *

I forgot to post about my April resolution but I have been sticking to it. March's resolution was frustrating and vague. "Make better choices" was the stupidest, most frustrating, completely unsatisfying resolution I could make. How can you win that resolution? You can't, which is why my April resolution is to not buy a single prepared coffee. I can win that resolution. I will win that resolution. There is a shameful coffee admission to go along with April's resolution but it's a story for another day.

* * * * *

The Canucks won last night's game against the LA Kings. It was only the first game of the first round of playoffs but I was a complete stressball. The energy in Vancouver is awesome but it's a nervous energy. If you've been a Canucks fan for any length of time you understand why. Things can go very badly very quickly for the Canucks.

* * * * *

I was buying dog food the other day and I saw pet Snuggies in the clearance bin. It took an amazing amount of restraint to not buy the pet Snuggies. I kind of regret it. Should I go back and buy the pet Snuggies? My dogs' lives can only be enriched by the addition of blankets with sleeves, right?

* * * * *

Happy Friday, peeps!

Late At Night And The Spirit Moves Me

Dearest Blackberry,

Why did you fall into my coffee? Why couldn't you fall beside my coffee? Or just not fall at all? Please don't die. I will miss you. I'm sorry that I dropped you down that flight of concrete steps that one time. I'm sorry for the alfredo sauce incident. Please. Don't leave me.

Yours, with shame and woe,

Hillary

* * * * *

Dear Internet,

New blackberry or upgrade to an iphone?

Love,

Really Can't Be Arsed To Learn How To Use A New Phone

* * * * *

Dear Wolfgang,

I took you to my parents' place tonight so that you could cheer up my mom, not so that you could poop in my brother's bedroom.

Sincerely,

Not Amused

* * * * *

Dear Westy,

I'm sorry that Wolfgang pooped in your bedroom. I kept him close to me all night but he did manage to slip away at one point. He was only gone for a few minutes and he came as soon as I called, so I thought everything was alright. If I thought that he had pooped somewhere in the house, I would have looked for it and cleaned it up. I'm sorry that Wolfie's poop stewed in your room for a few hours until it was discovered. Thank you for sending me a funny text message when you found it instead of being mad. Also, yes, he does really poop that big and yes, it is wild.

You rock.

Love,

Totally Buying You Beer This Weekend

* * * * *

Day 26 of my month of photos: Olympic spirit around town.

What If I Just Flip Flopped? Down Is The New Up

Friday Faff: Confessions

* * * * *

I bought $42 face moisturizer.

I tend to be casual about my appearance (I go months without a haircut, pulling my hair back into a ponytail to hide the split ends; I forgo wearing makeup to work if it means ten more minutes of sleep; I wear yoga pants - often - even though I do not do yoga) but the one thing I am vain about is my skin. I've noticed a lot of dryness in my skin lately. Horrible, flaky dryness. I know I should rehydrate my skin from the inside out but I drink a lot of water and nothing changes. So I bought $42 face moisturizer. I'm not sure how I feel about being someone who spends $42 on moisturizer. The Clinique lady promised that the moisturizer wouldn't spoil for 2 years so really it's like I am spending $21 a year on face cream. That's less than $2 a month. Still. $42 is almost half of my monthly transit pass.

* * * * *

I rode the motorcycle.

I know. I KNOW! Only five months ago I was all ranty ranty about the motorcycle. After the initial rage and fretting cooled down, though, I was left with curiosity. I wanted to experience what all the fuss was about; I wanted to see why he loved the motorcycle so much. Then last Monday, Shawn picked me up from work. He thought he was being wily, offering to pick me up from work knowing that I would assume he'd be driving the car, then showing up on his motorcycle with a brand new helmet for me to wear. We rode home and I felt what he feels on the bike. I now understand why it appeals to him. I'm not a fan by any stretch of the imagination, but I feel less anxious about the situation. I'm not sure that I'll ever get back on the bike but I'm not ruling it out either.

* * * * *

Day 19 of my month of photos:


The Vancouver Art Gallery (or VAG. Seriously.)
Vancouver is experiencing beautiful weather right now. The sun is shining, the sky is clear (and blue! as in, not grey! in February!) and the cherry blossoms are blooming.

We'll Order Water Torture Sauce And Economics

Dear Issue that is Making me Wobbly,

Please sort yourself out. You're making me twitchy and unpleasant to live with. I don't think Shawn can handle another incident like last night when that jar of alfredo sauce shattered and I had a complete meltdown.

Sincerely,
The One Rocking Back and Forth and Crying

* * * * *

Dear Grocery Bag that I Dropped on the Concrete Ground of the Parkade

Why did you have to be the bag that I shoved my wallet and blackberry into to free up hand space so I could carry more groceries? Why did you also have to be the bag containing the aforementioned jar of alfredo sauce? Were you jealous because the other grocery bags were full to the brim of lovely tasty groceries and you were the last bag I packed so you only got to carry a few random items? I hope you like your new home ... the garbage. I don't care how reusable you are, jerkface.

Regards,
The One Who May Have Been a Tad Aggressive as She Threw You Out

* * * * *

Dear Stella,

Alfredo sauce is not for puppies!

Love,
The One Who Doesn't Want to Clean Up Your Alfredo Vomit

* * * * *

Dearest Blackberry,

Thank you for working again after I dismantled you and cleaned alfredo sauce out of your every crevice with a q-tip. Now if you could just stop smelling like alfredo sauce we could go back to being friends.

Love,
The One Who Gags Every Time She Answers a Call

He Said That You're Just As Boring As Everyone Else Nothing Ever Happens

I'm feeling quite faffy today so this post is going to be Friday Faff: Tuesday Edition.

First of all, there is some moosetash business to take care of. Random.org picked number 8 as the winner of the moosetash keychain, so ... Alice! I will mail the keychain to you this week. Thanks for playing!

* * * * *

There is only one month left until the opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympics. I'm not a fan of the Olympics being in Vancouver but I have to admit that I'm getting excited. Vancouver is a dreary place to be in February; my hope is that the energy and spirit of the Olympics makes this year's February fly by. That being said, I'm definitely not looking forward to the gongshow that my commute will be during the Olympics. I predict a lot of stabbiness.

Are any of you planning to come to Vancouver for the Olympics? What about the Vancouverites: are you going to any of the events? I'm not planning to - is that lame? I can't handle the hoards of people.

* * * * *

Vegas. Are you going? I'm not but I desperately wish I was. I'm spending a week in Vegas in September for Cat's wedding and I don't think I can swing two Vegas trips in one year. The irresponsible part of me really wants to be persuaded to make it work, though.

* * * * *

Two weeks post-surgery my eyes are feeling pretty good. My vision is great and continues to improve (my night vision was so rotten last week that I couldn't drive.) I need to update my driver's licence this week to remove my corrective lenses restriction and I'm really hoping I get a new photo. I look like a criminal in my current driver's licence photo. Are you allowed to smile in your driver's licence photo? It used to be allowed in BC but now there is a strict no smiling rule.

* * * * *

Sorry dudes, that's all I've got. The January blues are zapping my ability to be interesting.

Twisted Diamond Heart I'm The Weekend Warrior

This weekend I will:

nibble on tiny little baby fingers when a good friend visits with her 7-month old bundle of love.

quell my ovaries' treacherous longing by spending time with her almost-3-year old bundle of piss and vinegar.

bake Angella's whipped shortbread (and hopefully whip up some Christmas spirit while I'm at it.)

finish the Christmas stockings I'm making for Shawn's and my stocking stuffer gift exchange.

set up an etsy shop so I can sell my moose-tash keychains.

party like a rockstar to celebrate a lovely lady's birthday.

recuperate from said partying with a Special Ladies' Christmas Brunch and Book Exchange (which is being held at my place. Tomorrow morning. Even though I have not yet cleaned my messy kitchen or bought any food. Eh, details.)

try not to spill anything on myself or swear too much at the Vancouver BlogHer Christmas party. If you're planning to be there, say hi! I will be the socially awkward one with bad hair.

What's on the agenda for your weekend?

I'd Fix It If I Could

There is no faff today - just twisty thoughts as one of my favourite people in the world has a scary and significant surgery today. Happy, healing thoughts are much appreciated, as are distracting stories about your Hallowe'en plans.

Just Beat It Beat It Beat It Beat It No One Wants To Be Defeated - Take 10

So I'm all caught up on the road trip shenanigans and I haven't faffed in a while. Let's faff, shall we? We'll call this one Friday Faff: The Catch Up Edition.

* * * * *

The puppies came home the day after we arrived home from the road trip. They had been separated for a week (our families can only handle one pup each. Amateurs!) We brought Stella home first and it was adorable / heartbreaking to watch her race around the condo looking for Wolfgang. I have never seen the puppies so happy as they were when we reunited them. They practically vibrated with joy.

Wolfgang has become a bit clingy since we've been home. We've started calling him the stage five clinger (which is only funny if you've seen Wedding Crashers and if you haven't seen Wedding Crashers you probably should because it is hilarious.) He follows me from room to room, not letting me out of his sight. He has started jumping into my lap if I'm sitting at the kitchen table (which is impressive because our table is bar-height so it's quite the leap for him.) I got out of the shower yesterday and saw tiny little Wolfgang paws reaching under the bathroom door. It's funny but on the brink of becoming very annoying.

* * * * *

Turtle made me a chocolate / beet cake for my birthday. I don't have any pictures to prove it but I totally ate a giant slice of it and it's counting for my October beets. Chocolate / beet cake is not awesome (sorry, lady) because once someone tells you that it's beet cake you can totally taste the beets, but it's not as gross as it sounds. You wouldn't know about the beets if you weren't told.

* * * * *

I went out last Friday for some birthday shenanigans. Cat's birthday is the date after mine so we gathered a group of friends and went out for a civilized dinner. Which quickly turned into a not-so-civilized dinner when the pub we wanted to go to was full (a pub where I would have been drinking pumpkin beer, which means that I would have had 2 drinks because I can only manage to drink 2 pints of pumpkin beer and then I'm over it) and we ended up at a restaurant we'd never been to before and they had pitchers of cocktails on special and they had a special Pimm's cocktail on the menu and I love Pimm's and then someone started buying tequila shots. My head was very hurty the next morning. It was big fun, though. If you can't act like a drunken ass on your birthday, when can you act like a drunken ass?

* * * * *

Last weekend was birthday shenanigans and two family dinners to make up for missing Thanksgiving while we were road tripping and a massive hangover and puppy love. This weekend will be vacuuming and homework and cleaning out my closet to donate old clothes. The old lady in me is really looking forward to it.

Have a great weekend, peeps! See you Monday.

Just Beat It Beat It Beat It Beat It No One Wants To Be Defeated - Take 9

Friday Faff: Birthdays and Burgers and Beets Edition

* * * * *

So, uhh, this is awkward. It turns out that Wolfgang's birthday isn't until next Tuesday. Yet another reason why I should stick to fur-babies.

* * * * *

Thank you for all your road trip suggestions! I am kind of ridiculously excited to eat at In-n-Out Burger. Shawn and I ate dinner at Fatburger the night we got engaged. We served burgers at our wedding. We are burger people, is what I'm saying. All the other road trip stuff is great too, don't get me wrong, but what I'm really looking forward to is the food. I'm going to shop at Trader Joe's! I'm going to drink lemonade at Sonic!! I am lame, I know.

* * * * *

So I ate my stupid September beets. Enough people suggested pickled beets that I figured they must be something special. Pickled beets are ... fine. The vinegar taste was quite strong, which masked the taste of the beets nicely. The problem was the cleanliness (and my craziness.) I bought a jar of pickled whole baby beets, which I assumed would be peeled. They were not peeled. I could see beet skin on some of the beets and they all had the top rooty bit attached. It was too much for me to handle so I used a paring knife to peel off the entire outer skin. I ended up with tiny little beet nuggets:


I served the beets on a salad, with a side of barbecued chicken and grilled zucchini. Who's in denial that summer is over? Not I.

* * * * *

Have a great weekend, peeps!

The Lazy Sunbathers The Sun Burns Through To The Planet's Core And It Isn't Enough They Want More

You guys ... you guys! I bring on the crazy and you all bring out the lovely and here I am, a little verklempt. Thanks for talking me off yet another bloggy ledge. Same time, same place, next month?

I'm having a motherfucker of a day so I am unable to faff about for Friday Faff but let me point you in the direction of awesomeness:

Amanda wants to know: What's your bacon number? (mine is 4)

Lemon Gloria introduces baby Jordan.

Georgia makes me crave bread.

Right. In five hours I will be arriving in my favourite place in BC for three glorious days of sunshine, excessive Pimm's consumption, and hopefully a few bocce tournaments. I am beyond excited. I haven't peed from excitement yet but clearly that is a possibility.

Have a great weekend, lovelies!

I'll Kill Him With Karate That I Learned In Japan

The heat has officially left Vancouver and today is a gloomy, rainy Monday. That - and the limited sleep I got this weekend - has left me in a Friday Faff kind of mood.

* * * * *

Thank you for all your kind comments on my anniversary post. We had a great first anniversary. To kick things off, Shawn's Mom made us a fabulous barbecue dinner. On our actual anniversary, we had dinner at the Irish Pub where we got married and then went to the beach and ate cupcakes from the bakery where we got our wedding cupcakes. The next night, my mom and dad made us dinner. It was a bit odd - we were not expecting our families to participate in the anniversary celebrations - but very nice.

* * * * *

Shawn wants to shave Wolfgang's mohawk. I hid the clippers. It's a battle of wills.

* * * * *

I have decided not to part ways with my t-shirt collection. To celebrate, I wore this shirt to work on Friday:

* * * * *

I spent three hours at a farmers' market with my mom yesterday. Three hours is far too long to spend at a farmers' market, especially when you keep finding treats that you have to have. I came home with: ten pounds of blueberries, a giant bag of bell peppers, organic dog treats, paw balm for Wolfgang's cracked paws, a huge loaf of organic seed bread, a bottle of dried garlic, locally grown beets, and an awesome birthday present for Turtle that I can't reveal because she reads this blog. I could have spent hundreds of dollars. I am officially grounded from farmers' markets.

* * * * *

So. The reason I didn't get much sleep this weekend. I started taking karate (is it bad that I can't help but say it "kara-tay" like Ross?) My first class was Saturday morning and I spent the rest of the weekend in agony. My muscles HATE ME right now. I woke up at 4am on Sunday, writhing in pain from ROLLING OVER. I have the opportunity to go three times a week but I think I'm going to start off with once a week. At least until I stop wanting to die after each class.

Baby Please Open Your Heart And Catch My Disease

Friday Faff: I'm Highly Medicated Don't Judge My Rambling Edition

I have spent the last two days dying of a throat/ear blight. This morning I woke up and could feel it in my chest. And yet ... it's Friday and calling in sick on a Friday is a major no-no in my office. So here I am, at work, spreading my nasty germs around.

Suffice it to say, I will not be at the BlogHer Vancity event tomorrow. I've got to be way out in the suburbs by 2pm for Cat's engagement party and I'm thinking I may need the morning to rest up. Who knows ... maybe tomorrow morning I'll wake up feeling fine and I'll crash the meet-up. Anyway, to anyone who is going tomorrow: I'm really disappointed I won't get to meet/see you. Hopefully next time I won't be a disgusting bag of disease and I will be able to go.

* * * * *

In other news, I forgot to write my 10th Monthiversary post. I'll, uh, get on that. At some point. Maybe.

* * * * *

After months of being jerked around by multiple car dealerships, Shawn and I were able to trade in our cars and consolidate to one car. I lost some cash on my car but Shawn managed to break even. We are now the proud owners of a 2007 VW GTI. She's gorgeous.

* * * * *

Oh! I almost forgot. This happened on Tuesday but I have been stewing about it since. The pups and I were at the dog park. I noticed Stel acting a bit weird so I called her over and discovered a really sticky, strawberry flavoured, giant wad of bubblegum stuck to her foot. It was all up in between her toes, under her nails, stuck in her fur, ALL OVER. It took me so long to get it all off. I made the poor thing stand in the bathtub full of coldish water while I tried to scrape it off. Her foot is a little sore (the pad is a bit raw) but I figured it was better than her chewing the gum off her foot and eating it.

So. If you are in a dog park, don't spit your fucking gum on the ground. This goes for the asshats who smoke while in the dog park also. Put your trash / gum / cigarette butts in the garbage/poop receptacle the parks people so kindly provide. My dogs (especially Stella) eat everything. She has eaten more cigarette butts than I can count. THIS CAN'T BE GOOD FOR HER. Aaannd I'm done ranting.

* * * * *

Tonight is the Stanley Cup final. I'm cheering for the Penguins because the Red Wings really annoy me for some reason (probably because they win all the time.) And because Mermanda lives in Pittsburgh and I don't know/read anyone who lives in Detroit.

* * * * *

So that's all I've got. What's going on in your world? Do I have any Vancouver readers who are going to the meet-up tomorrow?

Yes, I'm Gonna Burn One Down

Friday Faff: Haiku Edition

Canucks, you scared me
last night. Giving up a three
goal lead in the third?

Not cool, Luongo.
Good thing Salo managed to
score a big goal. Yay!

One game down, three more
to go. Chicago won't know
what hit them. Go 'Nucks!

* * * * *

We will find out soon
if the wedding is still on
or if it's cancelled.

The Dominican
Republic is possible.
Or maybe Cuba.

I find myself way
too interested in what
the newscasters say.

Swine flu is not swine
flu? H1N1 Virus?
Is this important?

A flu by any
other name would suck as hard.
Call it what it is.

* * * * *

These are not Smarties.
Those are called Rockets. Believe
me, I know candy.

Yesterday It Hit Me That I Do All The Little Things That You Do Except The Same Little Things That You Do Are Annoying

Friday Faff: Don't You Wish You Were Married to Me? Edition

Shawn, retelling a joke from Southpark*: Do you like fishsticks?

Hillary: I don't know.

Shawn: What?

Hillary: I've never eaten a fishstick.

Shawn: For the sake of the joke, assume that you've eaten a fishstick, ok? So do you like fishsticks?

Hillary: I don't know! What are fishsticks like?

Shawn: They're like ... fishsticks.

Hillary: Like fish & chips?

Shawn: No, more like chicken strips.

Hillary: Dude that does not help at all. There is a huge spectrum of chicken strips. Are we talking fastfood-style nuggets? Or restaurant-style tenders?

At which point Shawn's head melts a little until we come to the conclusion that fishsticks are not deep-fried like fish & chips, but breaded and baked like quality-restaurant-style chicken tenders.

Shawn: Sooo.... do you like fishsticks?

Hillary: I don't know. Are they served with tartar sauce or ketchup?

Shawn: I hate you.

* I know, right? Southpark. Gah. I stopped liking Southpark right around the time I stopped mixing $8 half-mickeys of Alberta Pure Vodka with cream soda Slurpees (read: grade 12.)

PS: The joke was really lame. Something to do with being a gay fish if you like fishsticks in your mouth.

* * * * *

Hillary: Why is your face all scratchy?

Shawn: It's my playoff beard!

Hillary: I do not accept that.

Shawn: But if I shave, the Canucks will lose!

Hillary: FINE! Then I'll just grow my own playoff beard ...

Shawn:?

Hillary: ON MY LEGS!

* * * * *

Happy Friday, peeps! If you're so inclined, Lemon Gloria could use some positive thoughts, and, if it's not too insensitive to include this in the same sentence, the Canucks could use some juju for game 2 tonight.

I Am Dreaming Of A Michigan Girl

Friday Faff: Queasy Edition

I am incapable of making chili for two people. I try to limit myself but by the time I get the meat and beans and all the veggies in there, I've got enough chili to feed at least ten people. I hate freezing chili because the veggies always end up a bit manky once they defrost, so instead, Shawn and I eat chili for every meal until we're sick of it.

Whenever we've got a disgusting amount of chili leftovers to plow through, Shawn asks if I can make him a Michigan. I had never heard of Michigans until I met Shawn (he was born in Quebec and sometimes he is very East Coast.) A Michigan is a hotdog topped with chili and onions. It does not appeal to me at all.

However, another bowl of chili did not appeal to me either, so last night we made Michigans.


It didn't start well. I've barbecued hotdogs before but never cooked them on the stove. Shawn said the hotdogs had to be boiled or it wouldn't be a legitimate Michigan.

So the hotdogs were boiled. This took one pot.

I reheated the chili in another pot.

Then Shawn said we needed to figure out a way to steam the buns, or else they wouldn't be true Michigans. So I dug out the pot I use to steam vegetables, which is actually 3 parts - 2 pots + a lid.

So at this point we're up to 4 pots and a lid, plus the chopping board and knife for the onions and the grater for the cheese. That is way too many dishes for what is basically a fastfood dinner.

If they tasted good or were good for you, I might not have minded all the fuss that went into making them. However, Michigans taste like ass and are completely unhealthy. Last night's dinner was a massive fail.

AND when I googled Michigans today, I found out that true Michigans don't even have cheese.

Moral of the story: Quebec may have given us poutine but its culinary contributions should not be trusted. I don't know why I didn't learn that after trying tourtiere.

You Won't Have To Worry Yourself Sick Til You're Blue In The Face

Friday Faff: Edition of No Substance

The puppies are causing me to fret.

Last weekend I took Stella to the vet for her annual visit. She weighed in at 21lbs, which we soon discovered was all muscle when it took me plus two others to hold her down for her vaccinations. She got her boosters and the rabies vaccine and deworming medication (and I waved goodbye to $121 ... stupid expensive vet visit) and then didn't poop for two days. And I was all fretty fret fret on Twitter (ps: thanks Charming Driver, you made me feel less twitchy.)


I was hesitant to take her to the vet because she wasn't in any pain, her energy level was the same as it always is, and she was drinking and eating normally. Also, after she got the rabies vaccine last year she developed a giant lump on her back. And I spent $40 to have my vet tell me that lots of dogs react strangely to the vaccine and that unless Stella is swollen around the face and having difficulty breathing, she's fine and it will pass. I set a poop deadline and if nothing happened before it, I would take her to the vet. Fortunately she beat my deadline and everything is fine.

However.

Wolfgang upped his game this week. It doesn't matter what time we feed him or what time we take his water dish away. It doesn't matter that we're feeding him food with the highest protein percentage available or that we're feeding him the largest amount recommended for his weight. The little stinker refuses to sleep through the night. Lately he's not just waking up once a night, either. Last night he cried on three separate occasions, loud enough and long enough to wake me up completely. The first time he needed a pee. The second and third time he ran over to his empty food dish, tail wagging hopefully. I don't feed him when he wakes up during the night. I don't want to encourage his rotten, demanding behaviour. Wolfgang will not finagle a midnight snack out of me. I'm tired, though. I'm tired to the bone today and no amount of coffee will change that.

The situation is exacerbated by the fact that I don't have Shawn's help this week. He's doing an intensive training program this week, capped off by a five hour exam on Saturday, so it's been my job to help lessen his load. It means that I am in charge of the puppies and I am attempting to keep food in the fridge and clean underwear in our drawers, and I really don't mind it, I don't. I just want to sleep through the night, just once. It's been so long.

I'm overwhelmed and I feel like a dork for being this anguished by two little puppies. How will I ever be a mother if I can't even handle taking care of pups? I'm assuming that babies are more labour-intensive than puppies and I cannot adequately describe just how deeply that scares me.

This wasn't supposed to be a poor-me post. I wanted to talk about how scandalized I was by your comments on my family shenanigans post (Nilsa, I was shocked when I read yours. You made your brother eat dog poop? I am surprised he still speaks to you!) And I wanted to thank you for your baby shower game suggestions. Ms. B, I am totally stealing your Who's Your Mama idea. Oh and Racquel? Your comment made my day. My plan for tonight is to watch the hockey game and make cupcakes. If that doesn't beat my grumpy mood into submission, I don't think anything will.

Happy Friday, lovelies! Stay out of trouble.

You Left Some Stars In My Belly

Friday Faff: Contracts, Cakes, Creepiness and Cuteness Edition

Without going into too much detail, my employment situation is as follows:
I went for three interviews with the new company and was offered the job on Monday. I was working on a ridiculously long pros & cons list until my current boss increased my salary by 25% to entice me to stay. One of the new job's cons was the pay cut so it was an easy decision to make. If Shawn's situation was more stable, or if he hadn't just taken a pay cut, the decision would have been more difficult to make but for now I'm a sellout and I'm okay with it.

Wolfgang agrees.

Last week Shawn and I made a list of luxuries we would need to do without if I were to take the job with the lower salary. Talking about how we're going to spend my raise (after we take care of a little thing called Credit Card Debt) is much more fun. At the top of my list? Laser eye surgery. To which Shawn replied, "Fuck laser eye surgery. Let's get lasers!" How could I argue with that?

Wolfgang would like some laser eye surgery too, please.

Actually, Wolfgang would just like for his stupid asshole puppy teeth to fall out already.
Oh no wait, that's me and my poor, punctured hands.

* * * * *

I have a confession to make: I hate black forest cake. I made the cake because it's my dad's favourite but I didn't actually eat any. I'm not sure if it was tasty or not. I have to admit, I don't think it was as tasty as it looked. Turtle said the frosting made it skanky (but in a loving way) and Shawn said it was too sweet. Bing, I used this recipe.

* * * * *

Thanks for voting in my poll! The Over-Thinker made a surprise comeback last night and I'm taking all the credit. To the 6 cheeky monkeys who voted for Answer 5, I have decided that Answer 5 = send Hillary a present. So. I like chocolate and books and money.

* * * * *

And now for the cuteness! I saved the best for last.

Wolfgang's newest favourite pastime (besides chewing hands and air-humping) is to lie on my legs and have his tummy rubbed.

Wolfgang has a very difficult life.

He becomes very annoyed when I stop rubbing. You can just file that under "sounds dirty but isn't intended as such."

Rub mah bellllyyy, woman!

Happy Friday everyone!

I Died Eating French Fries In The Restaurant On The Corner

Friday Faff: Employment is Exciting! Edition

Let's get the important business out of the way first, shall we? A few of you expressed interest in poutine. As it turns out, I talk about poutine a lot. There were like five more poutine posts I could link to but I'm lazy.

Anyway, Adriana: yes, poutine is different in Vancouver than it is in Montreal. Poutine is a French-Canadian delicacy so Montreal poutine is authentic poutine. That being said, I have had good poutine in Vancouver that was better than bad poutine in Montreal, if that makes sense. I guess what I'm trying to say is, if given the opportunity to try poutine, don't turn it down because of one bad poutine experience. You could miss out on an amazing poutine experience.

Tia: If you make it to BC, go here. Fritz = amazing poutine.

Lisa: It makes me so sad that you only recently learned of poutine. I hope that you make up for lost time and track down some poutine pronto.

Maxie: If I ever make to any of the meet-ups, I will bring you some poutine. It will probably be cold and congealed but hey, you'll be drunk so you won't even notice.

Julienne: It's not real poutine if it uses mozzarella instead of cheese curds!

Stella would like some poutine, please.

I lied. The poutine isn't the most important business. Thanking all of you rockstars is the important business. Thank you all for your kind comments. It was a tough week and opening up my email to find a plethora of support from you lot was amazing. Thanks, dudes!

Shawn and the puppies say thanks too!

Shawn's interview went really well and he was offered the job. He's hesitant to take it because it is a significant pay cut but I keep reminding him that less dollars is better than no dollars. A pay cut isn't the end of the world. He's still bed-ridden with the flu so he doesn't need to make a decision right now. He's going to think about it this weekend and make a decision on Monday.

There is a lot of thinking to be done.

His decision will impact my decision whether or not to pursue my job opportunity any further. This new job will mean a lot less stress (I cannot emphasize the stress enough - on a scale from 1 to 10, where 10 = STRESS!, my current job is a 9. If I'm reading the situation correctly, this new job would be somewhere around a 2 or 3.) It will also mean a much shorter commute. Unfortunately, it would also mean a pay cut. I'm not sure that I'm comfortable taking a pay cut at the same time as Shawn.

And now, a puppy question. How do you prevent your puppies from going under your bed? Our bed is very low to the ground but Stella still manages to squeeze herself under it to get at Wolfgang. We've tried blocking it off with various objects but the puppies are evil and chew their way through. I don't want Stella to be under the bed because she's got carpet burn on her belly that is turning into a unhealable wound. She keeps ripping off the healed bits and reopening the burny bits and it is just as disgusting as it sounds. Any suggestions?

See? She is too big to be under there! Nutty dog.

I Can Be Your Hero Baby

Friday Faff: Super Hero Edition

Because if this isn't faffy, I don't know what is.

Inland From Vancouver Shore The Ravens And The Seagulls Push Each Other Inward And Outward

Friday Faff: Soapbox Edition

One of items in my 25 Things About Me post was that I don't support the 2010 Vancouver Olympics. Sarah asked why. I composed a long, ranty post in my head but decided to try to break it down into brief sections. There will be less head melting that way.

Shame
Vancouver has more homeless people than any other Canadian city. Part of the reason is due to the fact that you can sleep on the street in Vancouver in the dead of winter and wake up alive. I'm not sure that applies anywhere else in Canada. If Vancouver has billions of dollars to swing its Olympic-sized dick around, surely they can find a few million to build housing for Vancouver's homeless.

Manipulation
If I was creating a budget for an event that is occurring in the future, I would ensure to factor in a reasonable rate of inflation. Stating that Vancouver's Olympic security budget jumped from $175 million to over a billion dollars because of inflation is manipulative and insulting.

Legacy
Just last year, Montreal finally paid off its debt from the 1976 Olympics. I am afraid that Vancouver is following the same path, especially after the City of Vancouver's $100 million loan guarantee to the company building the Olympic Village.

I love my city. Vancouver is beautiful and vibrant and alive. I understand why people support the Olympics. I understand that people want to show off this amazing city to the world. I just don't feel like it should come at a cost to Vancouver's most vulnerable residents. Vancouver belongs to everyone - not just the rich yuppies who can actually afford tickets to the games.

/end rant