Turn Away While I Celebrate Will You Tolerate While I Waste The Day Away?

It wasn't a responsible decision, to go to a pub to watch the Canucks game on a Wednesday night, but it was a fun decision. The atmosphere was muted at the start but the back-and-forth momentum changes in the game soon had the entire pub whipped up into a hockey frenzy (upon reflection, I'll admit that the alcohol may have played a small role.) When the Canucks scored late in the 3rd and finally took the lead, the pub erupted in a cacophony of hoots and whistles that lasted until after the final horn.

I love hockey. I am a true fan - I root for my team when they're losing and I happily welcome back the bandwagon-jumpers when the team is winning. Tuesday's disallowed goal was ridiculous and I'll admit to unleashing a string of profanity when the call was made. That one call didn't lose the game for the Canucks, though, and the bitching and moaning that occurred afterward did nothing but make us look like poor losers. Last night's game was more than a chance for the Canucks to tie the series at two games apiece; it was a chance for the fans (whether long-term or short-term, steadfast or fickle, zealous or laid-back) to stop focusing on bad calls and conspiracy theories and just fucking celebrate. And celebrate we did. We stumbled home exchanging high-fives with random strangers, attempting to eat dirty pizza on the train, and laughing at the gems that came out of Shawn's mouth (my personal favourite: "Swedish power activate! I'm going to Ikea tomorrow.") (I guess that's only funny if you know that our top line consists of three Swedes. And that Shawn hates Ikea more than, well, anything.)

This morning I woke up with an inexplicably sore foot, a bruise on my wrist, a hangover that rivals my worst hangover ever, and a brother-in-law asleep on our couch. So no, it was not a responsible decision by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a decision I don't regret. Not even a little.

Now will someone please make me a baked potato and some tea? I'm pretty sure that a baked potato and tea are the only things that will keep me from dying this morning.

Our Watchword Evermore Shall Be The Maple Leaf Forever

I had a low-key weekend planned.

And then Friday evening I got an email from Robin, inviting me to go to the closing ceremonies with her on Sunday. And then Saturday I started getting sick. And then I spent early Sunday morning in the emergency room because I couldn't breathe. And then I went to the pub to watch the gold medal hockey game.

And then I fought my way through the sea of hockey-crazed fans to BC Place to meet up with Robin.

Being at the closing ceremonies is something I'll never forget. The atmosphere, the energy, the performances - they all contributed to an amazing night. I even appreciated the Nickelback performance, if only for a much-needed bathroom break.

And now I'm stuck in bed with the black lung. I can't remember ever being this sick. I should have stayed home on Sunday instead of going to the pub and the closing ceremonies but they both seemed like once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. I had an amazing weekend; I don't really have the words to describe it. Or the energy. So ... pictures!

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

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Dear Internet,

New blackberry or upgrade to an iphone?

Love,

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

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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

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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

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

People Pushing Through Their Mittens As I Was Beginning To Feel It Soaking Through My Shoes

I woke up this morning to grey skies and rain. I got drenched on the way to work (umbrellas are for wusses! Or, you know, people who forget their umbrellas at work.) Now the sun is out and the sky is blue. I can't take this weather limbo! Either be winter or be summer. Actually, just be summer.

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Shawn is on Twitter. His plan of going back to school was derailed by our mutual love of our dual-income lifestyle so his new plan consists of (finally) finishing his album, getting a website, and selling said album on said website. My new plan consists of making him use Twitter and Facebook to reach more people. So if you're on Twitter you should probably follow him. He's pretty funny. And he says "balls" a lot (just ask my family members; every one of them have received a birthday or holiday card at some point with a random "BALLS!" written in it by Shawn.)

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Have you heard of the Olympic red mittens? They're kind of a big deal. I've got a pair but only because my mom snagged a bunch a few months ago.

Day 25 of my month of photos:

This statue of Robert Burns stands across from the Vancouver Rowing Club in Stanley Park. It's a little difficult to see because the photo is small, but a pair of Olympic red mittens hangs around his neck.

My Arms Get Cold In February Air Please Don't Lose Hold Of Me Out There And I Know This Place Like The Back Of My Hands

February is bleak.

It is cold and rainy; it is months until the next long weekend; it is a love holiday that makes me feel uncomfortable and twitchy (which is an improvement from how it used to make me feel - alone and depressed); it is too much family time, with my dad's and brother's birthdays 12 days apart; it is sad, with my late grandpa's and gone-too-soon cousin's birthdays days from Westy's and Dad's. February is grey skies and rain clouds. Dry skin and chapped lips. Dark mornings and early evenings. February is too long despite being the shortest month.

This February was different. Not only because of the giant party that is the Olympics (my liver died on Sunday night; I'm not sure whether the tequila or the beer is responsible so I'll assign equal blame) but because we were blessed with amazing weather. A full week of blue skies, sunshine, and warm-enough-to-leave-your-jacket-at-home weather. The cherry blossoms bloomed, the crocuses were fooled into thinking that Spring had arrived, and my heart was happy.

The rain started last night. This morning I did not wake up to sunshine filtering through my eyelids. February is bleak once again.

Day 24 of my month of photos:

A float plane leaving Vancouver harbour with North Vancouver and the North Shore Mountains in the distance.

Jailhouse Gets Empty Rudy Gets Plenty

Day 22 of my month of photos:

Rudy the piglet. Rudy doesn't belong to us (oh but I wish he was mine.) He belongs to our friend. Until I figure out a way to steal him, that is.

The story of Rudy is a bit random - and to be completely honest I was ridiculously inebriated last night so I'm a tad unclear on the details - but the gist of it is that our friend was offered a 10-week old piglet two days ago so he accepted.

And now we are all giving up bacon because HOW CAN YOU EAT BACON WHEN IT COULD BE RELATED TO RUDY?!

Piggy's On The Floor Getting Some Sun

Day 20 of my month of photos: FAIL

Day 21 of my month of photos: a video:

Why yes, that is a real piglet and I am telling it to "oink like a pig." No, there was no alcohol involved in the making of this video. Okay the the alcohol thing is a lie but the rest is true.

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

Friday Faff: Confessions

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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.

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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.

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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.

Blow Out That Cherry Bomb For Me

Day 18 0f my month of photos:

Hotel Vancouver, blue sky, balloons, and cherry blossoms. A perfect afternoon.

No Tragedy No Poetry Just Staring At The Sky

Day 17 of my month of photos:

The city from Stanley Park with the Vectorial Elevation behind the buildings.

In The Light You Will Find The Road

Day 16 of my month of photos:

The Olympic cauldron at night.

It Takes A Crane To Build A Crane It Takes Two Floors To Make a Storey

Day 15 of my month of photos:

A patriotic crane in the business district.

Honey It's Been A Long Time Coming And I Can't Stop Now Such A Long Time Running

Can we talk about the Olympics for a minute? I'm sorry if you're suffering from Olympic overload. I promise to be quick and then I'll get back to posting my month of photos.

I was upset when Vancouver was awarded the 2010 Olympics. I'm not going to explain why I was upset because that would be a long-winded post indeed. I will just say that I feel like Vancouver did not have its priorities straight. That being said, I have never protested the Olympics. My feelings fall in the grey area between elation and rage.

I am conflicted. I love the Olympics; I feel pride in our athletes; I feel joy for Alex Bilodeau, the first Canadian athlete to win an Olympic gold medal on Canadian soil. I just worry that Vancouver's Olympic legacy will not be a positive one. No one knows (or no one is saying) how much the Olympics is costing us. I'm worried that an already expensive city to live in will become even more unmanageable for the average citizen.

The Olympics are here whether I support them or not. The city is alive and buzzing with an indescribable energy. I plan to take full advantage of it over the next two weeks. I will visit the free attractions; I will take photos of the monuments and art and celebrations to share with my bedridden mother; I will celebrate the Canadian athletes' achievements; I will not stay at home and pout.

And I will support the rights of the peaceful protesters while reserving my right to feel anger at the self proclaimed "anarchists" who roam the street, causing property damage and engaging in violence with the police, whose actions only result in the dilution of the protesters' message and credibility.

Vancouver is a beautiful city and I am so happy to be here. Happy but conflicted.

And I Said That Kind Of Talk Only Adds Intrigue To The Cauldron Of Thought

Day 14 of my month of photos:

The Olympic cauldron.

There'll Be Swingin' Swayin' And Records Playin'

Day 13 of my month of photos:

The flash mob that dominated Robson Street this afternoon.

Turtle dancing her arse off in the flash mob that dominated Robson Street this afternoon.

Nailed it!

You May Ask Why I Want To Torch My Home Town

Day 12 of my month of photos:

If you look directly below the traffic light on the right you can see the Olympic torch. This morning it was a block away from my office so I walked down to check it out. I didn't get very close because of the crowd, and I only had my little point-and-shoot camera, but I was there and it was ... exciting. I was surprised by my reaction because I did not support the Olympics being in Vancouver. The energy and buzz of the city is hard to ignore, though, and I have found myself fully swept up in the Olympic fever.

And When I Get That Feeling

When I found out about my mom's busted pelvis, I told Shawn that we needed to find some cheeseburgers, stat. He then proceeded to sing a song (that he composed on the spot) called "Emotional Eating" sung to the tune of "Sexual Healing." I love that guy.

Day 11 of my month of photos:

Looking up at the Lookout at Harbour Centre through the open-air glass dome of Grant Thornton Place.

And There's No Amount Of Reason That Could Save Me So Break Me

Yesterday my mom fell while ice skating and broke her pelvis. Old people break their pelvises (pelvi?) My mom is not an old person. And yet her pelvis is broken. I cannot reconcile the two.

Day 10 of my month of photos:

Lions Gate Bridge (again) taken from the seawall (on a different night so it still counts!)

And If I Could Remember If I Could Find A Place A Time The Space To See Another Way Home

My coffee ban is over and I cannot tell you how happy that makes me. I was going to try to go a month without coffee but then I got accepted into a sleep disorder program (yay!) Part of the program is keeping a two week sleep diary, staying as close to my regular routine as possible. My regular routine involves coffee so continuing the coffee ban would be dishonest and foolish and maybe a little illegal (trying too hard to justify my love for caffeine? me? never!)

I probably would have gone back to coffee anyway as this week my commute has gone from simply annoying to downright rage-inducing. I just have to keep reminding myself that in three weeks the Olympics will be over and the tourists will be gone and the road closures won't be in effect and I can breathe again. Serenity now.

Day 9 of my month of photos:

Science World at night. Since taking my daylight photo of Science World, fences have gone up and security has increased.

Up And Above The Clouds The Only Way To Fly

I have a confession. I watch The Bachelor. Religiously. I am emotionally invested in Jake's happiness. I didn't start watching the Bachelor until the Jason/Molly/Melissa season so I know that I'm fairly new to the Bachelor but I feel like the Bachelor has been in my life forever. I do not remember my life pre-Bachelor (not that I want to.)

Okay that may be a bit of an exaggeration. I don't Google the Bachelor contestants. I don't know their last names. I don't even know their hometowns (though that will be remedied in a few hours.) I am just very wrapped up in the silliness that is this show. Do you watch the Bachelor? Do you know who Jake is? Do you love him? Hate him? (Me? I'm undecided.)

Part of why I love watching the Bachelor is because Shawn and I watch it with another couple (our road trip buddies.) One week we host Bachelor night and the following week they have us over to their house. We eat yummy food, rate the crazy, mock Jake for being such a wiener (I'm trying to like him, I swear) and count the number of times the instrumental version of "On the Wings of Love" plays in the background. On tonight's menu? Chicken wings of love. *Sigh* I almost love Monday because of the Bachelor. Almost.

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Day 8 of my month of photos:

The Sails of Canada Place viewed from Stanley Park.