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.

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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.

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

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

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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.

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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.

Sing Me Spanish Techno

Shawn and I were out shopping on the weekend when he got a call and we had to go straight to the hospital. It's not my story to tell but I will say that everyone involved is okay and for once it wasn't me who needed the medical attention.

So. We go straight to the hospital.

It wasn't a hospital I'd been to (or heard of) before. We got a bit lost on the way there because the hospital is in the midst of a residential area and we didn't trust our navigation system as it took us along the winding, suburban streets.

We arrived and found Shawn's brother and the three of us entered the emergency room. It was a bit odd; the room was small-ish and very quiet. There were a lot of old people there, IV-pole in tow, and youngsters with sports injuries. We were the only people there in the mid-20's - mid-30's age range and we attracted a fair bit of attention. It wasn't until later that I realized why. Shawn was wearing a t-shirt with skulls and other skull-type things on it. His brother was wearing his motorcycle leathers. As for me, I was wearing this shirt:

(you can buy it here)

We were quite the motley crew, is what I'm saying.

It could have been worse. I could have been wearing my "MEAT IS MURDER. Tasty, tasty murder." shirt.

Sigh.

I guess the moral of this story is that I should throw out my t-shirt collection and start dressing like a grownup. The thought that I've reached that point in my life makes me die a little on the inside.