Oh If Only If Only Oh He Wasn't So Lonely

Today's post is unapologetically stolen from Kyla. (Unapologetic because her post gave me the warm and fuzzies and I want to spread it around, not because I'm a heartless thief.)

If I could wish a frivolous wish, it would be for a coffee klatsch. Every morning we would sit in overstuffed armchairs and sip our lattes and tell our stories. We would talk about the funny stuff and the difficult stuff, the things that scare us, things that make us stabby, and things that make our hearts smile. We would celebrate birthdays and weddings and accomplishments. We would wonder and discuss and share. There would be no shortage of fancy treats to eat.

There would be no hustle and bustle, no rush hour, no drinking coffee from the stainless steel travel mug with the leaky lid, no attempting to read your stories on my phone's tiny screen. There would be only laughter and friends and the thing that seems to be missing from all of our lives: time to enjoy it all.

I Can See So Far With My Poison Eye

I didn't expect the air freshener debate to be so divided (team Vanilla Tiger!) The only solution, obviously, is to buy both.

* * * * *

I broke a board last night. With my force. First, though, I punched it and it did not break. Then I cried because, holy fuck do you know how much it hurts to punch a board as hard as you can? A lot. I ended up breaking it with an axe kick. Yeah, I do stuff like axe kicks. I'm pretty much the badassest (totally a word - don't question me, I will axe kick you) blogger around.

* * * * *

I bought my turkey a few nights ago. I couldn't find a fresh turkey so I had to buy a frozen one. I suspect that I couldn't find a fresh one because I refused to go to the butcher shop (so expensive! so ... meaty!) I moved the turkey from the freezer to the fridge today to start defrosting but I ran into a bit of a dilemma ... do you unwrap the turkey to defrost it? It's in some sort of turkey condom right now, which I like because it's keeping all the scary turkey germs from flying around the inside of my fridge, but I'm afraid that if I don't unwrap it I will end up with a still-frozen turkey on Sunday morning when I go to cook it. Suggestions? Advice? Offers to come cook my turkey? All welcome!

* * * * *

I am having laser eye surgery in 11 days. I booked it months ago but I didn't blog about it because I was fairly certain that I would back out like the giant scaredy pants that I am. I'm past the point of being able to get my $400 deposit back, though, so I need to tell as many people about the surgery as possible so I will feel like a wiener if I back out. Dudes, if I do not blog about my successful laser eye surgery on December 29th, I fully expect you all to call me names and put me in the shame corner.

* * * * *

Georgia is a fucking rockstar. Head over to her blog today and give her a high five, please and thanks!

And I Get What I Want My Name Is My Credit Card Don't Try To Hate Me Because I Am So Popular

I was not one of the sparkly popular kids in school. My family didn't have a lot of money; I wore my sister's hand-me-down clothes; my parents drove a 15-year-old station wagon (with imitation wood panelling!); we lived in a neighbourhood of families who took annual vacations to places like Palm Springs and Hawaii. It wasn't just my family's financial situation that made me an easy target, though. I was quiet; I got good grades in school; teachers liked me because I did my homework and didn't create any problems. I was a nerd, is what I'm saying. I was a nerd without trendy clothes or exotic vacation stories. I was a nerd before being a nerd was cool. Most of the time I was able to stay under the radar of the beautiful people but occasionally one of the Wretched would take notice of me and make my life miserable. It made me a little mistrustful of the beautiful people. The anxiety doesn't help, of course, but I'm fairly certain that the root of my social awkwardness can be traced back to my angst-ridden days in elementary school. I live my life stumbling from one awkward encounter to the next, relying on my core group of people to provide my comfort zone.

And then a night like tonight happens. Kyla Roma came to Vancouver and asked if I wanted to meet. Kyla Roma is one of the sparkly popular kids of my bloggy world. Her writing is honest and beautiful. Her soul shines through her words. She ... scares me. Seriously. I was excited to meet her but also anxious. Tummy-clenching, speak-too-quickly, forget-to-breathe anxious. Which is silly because obviously she was lovely and sweet and I had a fabulous time. We drank winter ale and ate yam fries and talked about blogging and this may just be the 9% beer talking but I feel like tonight I managed to be kinda sorta un-awkward (Kyla, if you don't agree, please be a darling and pretend that you do!) Nights like tonight make me feel like maybe I can do blogger meet-ups without dying inside. Not anytime soon, mind you, but I'm getting there. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

His Smile's Your Rope So Wrap It Tight Around Your Throat

I had a fabulous weekend, running from one thing to the next; baby kisses here, tequila shots there, with no rest in between. Instead of paring down my weekend's festivities when I started to feel overwhelmed, I added to the craziness whenever a new opportunity arose. When Shawn called at 6 on Saturday evening and said he'd been invited to play a show, I didn't tell him that I was hungover and in my pyjamas and attempting to motivate myself to do my accounting homework. I got dressed and went to the shady bar and held the video camera while simultaneously keeping a death grip on my bag because it seemed like the sort of place where muggings are not uncommon.

(The audio will not sync with the video and I cannot be arsed to sort it out. Sorry.)

(Shawn's playing the bass.)

My body protested when I forced it out into the cold on Sunday, almost as loudly as Robin protested when I forced her to attend the BlogHer Holiday party with me. I can't meet lovely, sparkly people on my own though (especially when I am hungover and so far from sparkly that I cannot even muster a single twinkle,) so she agreed to be my wingwoman. The party was lovely and everyone I spoke to was wonderful and I will definitely be returning to Tempest.

I'm paying for my fantastic weekend now, as I lie in bed dying of the Throat of Doom. I don't want to be home from work; I'm actually feeling quite twitchy as I picture the mounds of paperwork piling up. I'm determined to be better by tomorrow so I can get caught up. I'm meeting Kyla on Thursday and I'll be anxious enough about that without worrying about invoices and germs too.

Help

(shamelessly stolen from Cat)

This Ordinary Mind Is Broken

Various events have left me feeling ... discombobulated. Just when I think I've fought my way back to centre, something happens to make me realize that things are still a bit off-kilter. Like when I searched for my lost wallet all day and then, after giving up hope of ever seeing it again, found it on a stack of old books on my bookshelf. Or like how I knocked a knife off the counter and then tried to catch it mid-air, slicing my thumb in three places in the process. My brain is working at half-speed, it seems. I blame it on the rain.

Bringing a massive smile to my face today is Ben and his tit-o-grams (don't blame Ben for the crassness, please. I couldn't resist.) Please, if you have a moment or two, read Ben's entry and help out if you can. I wish I lived in Halifax so I could eat one of Ben's boobies. Yeah. I went there.

I Wrapped Up All Your Presents Wrote My Name On Every Card

I have a lot of negative feelings about Christmas. I spend a large portion of every December (and November if I'm being completely honest) feeling blue, then feeling guilty for feeling blue because I have a lot of good things in my life that I should be happy about, and then feeling sad about feeling guilty about feeling blue. Feel free to pity Shawn; I do.

Last week Nilsa wrote that holiday traditions don't need to be traditional. It was an aha! moment for me. Every year I feel like I fail at Christmas because we don't have (or want) a Christmas tree, or decorate every available space with assorted Christmas bric-a-brac like my mother does, or enjoy listening to Christmas carols. Nilsa's post, along with all of the lovely suggestions you made on my "woe is me, Christmas is so haaaard" post, made me understand that Shawn and I don't need to have a cookie cutter Christmas. Last year we barbecued hamburgers in the snow on Christmas Eve. It is officially our very own Christmas tradition (the hamburger part; I could do without the snow part.) I'm (tentatively) excited about Christmas this year. Sure there will be family drama - there always is - and frustration. But there will also be hamburgers. And ... what else? What are your non-traditional holiday traditions? I need to poach some new traditions for Kickass Christmas '09.

In other Christmas news (look at me go! I'm all about the Christmas this year) I am thinking of putting together a card exchange if I can drum up some interest. I'm thinking anyone who wanted to participate could email me their mailing address (ninjahills at gmail dot com) by a certain date and then I would distribute the addresses so everyone who sent a card would receive a card. I love receiving snail mail and finding new blogs and this seems like a cool (holiday-themed! Kickass Christmas '09!) way to do it. Is this something you would want to participate in? I realize not everyone celebrates Christmas and I'm trying to not be exclusive so let's call this the Holiday Card Swap. Open to everyone!

With A Twelve Pack From 12th & Porter With Billy 4:30am At Night

Dear Lovely Peeps Who Commented On Yesterday's Angsty Post,

Thank you for your kind words and suggestions. I was lost in my own head yesterday and you helped me find my way back out. You rock, dudes.

Love,
Trying To Be Less Crazy

* * * * *

Dear Stella,

I'm sorry for not realizing it was your 2nd birthday yesterday until Facebook told me. Also, happy birthday!

Love,
The Lady Who Feels Guilty Even Though She Realizes That You Don't Even Know It Was Your Birthday

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Dear Wolfgang,

Thanks for the 4:30 wake up call this morning, buddy. Was it really necessary to continue to whine for half an hour after I took you out for a pee and gave you a drink of water and a handful of biscuits?

Sincerely,
The Lady Who Wants To Punch You

* * * * *

Dear Shawn,

You didn't get up because you didn't hear Wolfgang? Really? Really?

Sincerely,
The Lady Who Really Wants To Punch You

* * * * *

Dear A Most Wanted Man By John Le Carre,

Please do not end.

Love,
The Lady Who Is Attempting to Pace Herself

* * * * *

Dear Ryan Johnson,

Watching you plow into the boards during last night's hockey game was horrifying; I cried when they wheeled you off the ice on a stretcher. I am very happy that you are going to be okay.

Love,
A Hockey Fan Who May Be A Tad Too Emotionally Invested In Her Canucks

When I Call They Better See Me On Your Video Screen

A while back (I want to say last week but that might be inaccurate. I'd look it up but I'm lazy and tired) Ben offered to share his wisdom on any topic with his blog readers. Ben is pretty damn hilarious, so of course I took him up on it.

My question:

I like one of my dogs much more than I like the other dog. Does this make me a bad person? If I ever choose to procreate, should I stick to having one kid to prevent this situation from happening with my hypothetical future children? If I do have more than one child, and I do like one better than the other, is that really so bad? Won't it motivate the other kid to try harder to win my love? Also, should I stop comparing my dogs to kids? When friends and family members tell me boring stories about their boring babies and I come back at them with an awesome story about my hilarious dogs, they give me dirty looks. Who is the asshole in this situation? I'm pretty sure it's them because seriously, who cares if your month old baby is sleeping through the night? My puppy has a mohawk! Fabulous hair trumps sleeping patterns any day, right?

His response:



Hilarious, yes?

Check out Ben's blog later for a list of all of his awesomeness that is floating around today.

An Old Piece Of Bacon Never Eaten By Elvis

The mornings have been dark lately, making the blinds on our windows unnecessary. Unnecessary, that is, until a random sunny October day filled our bedroom with sunshine at 8am. What does one do when awake at such an early hour on a Sunday? Brunch. Nothing cures a painfully early awakening like all-you-can eat bacon and hot chocolate.

Shawn wanted to ride his bike so I followed in the car and it was ... okay (apart from one road-ragey incident where a massive pick-up truck cut me off and proceeded to tailgate my husband, which made my heart skip a little.)

So here I am, waffling back and forth between hating the idea of Shawn on the motorcycle and being okay with the situation. Yes, watching him ride on the highway with nothing between him and the passing cars but a jacket made my head melt a little. But seeing how happy it made him (his eyes practically fucking twinkled when he took his helmet off) made me feel a bit guilty for wanting him to give it up. I am reserving the right to fret but have decided to make more of an effort to be less shrill about the motorcycle. So much so that I took the bike out for a spin.

What? Don't you ride your motorcycle in a sundress and ballet flats?

Right, so I didn't actually ride the bike; I just sat on it. I'm not sure that I'll ever ride the bike, though I'm not ruling it out. This is progress. Just give me, oh, five years and maybe I'll be ready to put the helmet on.

* * * * *

Vancouver bloggers: Tomorrow at 8pm, Kristin from better now and Kate from sweetsalty (two ladies who make my stomach churn with their awesomeness) are having a shindig at Steamworks (Gastown location.) I'm going to be there; come say hello and put me out of my socially awkward misery!

* * * * *

In other bloggy news, Amanda could use some votes to win a kitchen update and Jane has some happy news!

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!

Lights Will Guide You Home And Ignite Your Bones And I Will Try To Fix You

So I'd really like to not be whining about how sick I am still but, uh, I'm still sick. And as such, have not done anything interesting in the last six days. And by "not done anything interesting" I mean "didn't go to the Coldplay concert on Saturday night." The Coldplay concert I'd been looking forward to for months. 

I would really love to be someone who isn't fussed by this sort of thing but I'm not. I'm fussed. I'm disappointed and stroppy and a little sad. And yes, I realize how hard my life is that I had to stay home Saturday night instead of going to a concert. A concert that I was able to pay for with money I made at my job. I know. I know! Me and my first world problems. It's just ... I really love Coldplay. I've never seen them play live before. And Snow Patrol was opening for them. I really love Snow Patrol. And I'm just so tired of feeling crappy. 

Speaking of feeling crappy, after being up all night with pain pretty much everywhere from the neck up, I went to the doctor this morning. Turns out that the antibiotic I was prescribed last week didn't work. Meaning my strep throat is worse and I now have ear infections in both ears and a sinus infection. Um yes, I am a joyful one right now. 

However. This wasn't meant to be a whiny post. I actually wanted to thank everyone who left sweet, thoughtful comments last week. I've been really shite at responding to them so I'm hoping this post will suffice. You all rock. I am continually surprised at the support and kindness that you all throw my way. This is two steps away from becoming a drunken "I love you man" so I'll stop my babble. Just ... thanks. 

I Knew That To Keep In Touch Would Do Me Deep In Dutch

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

Today is Shawn's 31st birthday. Happy Birthday, dude!

I'm spreading my bloggy love on Angella today for a few reasons. For starters, she's effing awesome. She's also the only person I know through blogging who I have met in real life. Angella was our wedding photographer and did a fabulous job. When we were figuring out some wedding stuff, we realized that Angella's maiden name is the same as Shawn's last name. I love stuff like that so today, on Shawn's birthday, I will tell you why I love reading Dutch Blitz (besides the obvious reason that Angella totally understands my angst with the double L.)

The main reason I enjoy Angella's writing so much is that she writes honestly. Whether it's a heartfelt post about her family or her body issues, or a funny post about the meaning of her name, Angella's sincerity shines through. Plus she has really cute kids.

A while back, Angella did a series called Foto Friday, intended for people who want to explore the manual functions of their camera. I'm still very much dependent on my auto function but sometimes, when I'm feeling inspired, I read one of Angella's posts and give it a go. She doesn't claim to be an expert but she does give clear, concise instructions for ignorant camera users like myself.

So head on over to Dutch Blitz and take a gander (just don't tell Angella how busy she must be with three young kids or she will punch you in the ear.) (Okay that's a lie, Angella is probably too nice to punch you in the ear. She will grit her teeth at you though.)

Just An Old Sweet Song Keeps Georgia On My Mind

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

Georgia created the McNuggitini. Do I need to continue or do you already love her as much as I do? Because that's all it took for me.

Fine, fine. Georgia does have other admirable qualities. She dresses really well and has great hair. She's a damn fine writer. She stands up for herself against evil landlords. She has an awesome series called Domestic Tuesdays where she documents her cooking extravaganzas.

She describes her blog as being a "nice balance of self-deprecation with self-reflection, with a healthy helping of the absurd" - I could not put it any better than that.

Like A Lemon To A Lime A Lime To A Lemon

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

Lemon Gloria's blog name is a variation of her porn name. This alone made me love her. (And made me very jealous that I didn't think of it first. Two L's Please could have been Smudgie Chateau. If only.)

Lisa makes me laugh my ass off or breaks my heart. Reading her blog, you get the feeling that she feels big (not size-wise, dumbasses, I know better than to insult a pregnant lady); she loves big, she hurts big, she fears big. If I had to describe her writing in one word, it would be "raw." I don't mean raw as in rough or crude (though she does swear like a sailor) or unrefined. I mean raw emotion, raw humour, raw feeling. (The word raw has just lost meaning to me. Does that happen to you? You type or say a word too many times and then all of a sudden you're all "Huh. That looks funny. What does that mean?")

Further proof that Lemon Gloria is fucking fabulous:

I feel like I understand her crazy, as much as anyone can really understand another person's crazy. And when I emailed her to tell her how much of a creepy fanboy I am? She didn't run away in fear.

While wedding planning last year, she had to deal with some "fuckity fucks." Her revenge? Peeing in an out-of-the-way corner of the uppity historical venue. Okay that's a lie. She didn't pee in a corner but she did think about peeing in a corner and she blogged about it. And that's the important thing, right? Blogging about outrageous things to make your readers laugh?

She thinks that babies should be hatched from eggs instead of pushed out of ladies' fancy parts.

She believes there is no such thing as too much cheese.

And my personal favourite; she called her unborn son an asshole. And meant it.

Dear Lisa,
You are hilarious. That is all.
Love Hillary

And When My Mirror Speaks It Never Minces Words

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

I can't remember how I found Nilsa but I do remember feeling that instant bloggy-connection. You know the one, where you're reading a blog and you feel like you're reading an email from a friend. Nilsa recently moved to SoMi Speaks. I have to say, the old design was nice but the new blog looks fantastic.

Nilsa is intelligent and opinionated and, maybe most importantly, diplomatic. I enjoy reading her writing because she has strong opinions on a variety of topics but presents them in a way that no one ends up feeling ostracized. There have been times that Nilsa has disagreed with me and she let me know in a way that didn't make me feel attacked or judged. It is so refreshing to encounter someone who will tell you why she doesn't agree with you without telling you that you're wrong or that you need to feel or think a different way.

Nilsa's blog is a mix of family stuff and exercise stuff and life stuff and friend stuff ... and just stuff stuff. I can not label Somi Speaks as a certain "type" of blog. Nilsa writes about a little bit of everything.

Plus she's a dog person so that alone makes me love her.

Born On The Cusp In The Month Of November

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

Mermanda at Cusp of Normal

How do I love Mermanda? Let me count the ways.

Mermanda and I are both Thanksgiving babies. We may live in different countries and think that the other spells "favourite" incorrectly (for the record, Mermanda spells it incorrectly) but we are united by our love for blowing out birthday candles on pumpkin pie rather than birthday cake.

Mermanda can make normal household items look like balls. She is engaged to a man who not only makes cooking videos, he also tries to make her drink poop water. Speaking of being engaged, when Andrew proposed, Mermanda had a mullet! How can you not love this lady?

Mermanda makes me laugh with her theories on Candy Standardization and monocles. I can't link to them because they're not posts but I can copy & paste (like a boss!)

*disclaimer* I am not plagiarizing Mermanda. These are her words. Her wit. Her craziness. I can only hope that one day I will be as funny as her. Oh and we were talking about the difference between Canadian Smarties (the real Smarties) and American smarties (ROCKETS!)

" Why does Canada and the U.S. have to make things so damn difficult by renaming candy? If you elect me as President of the North American Union, I promise to make candy standardized from the tippy top of Canada to the bottomest part of Mexico. Never again will you have to
wonder "Which Smarties is she talking about?"

Also, I'll name you Treasury of Monocles.

Elect me. Amanda.

Paid for by Citizens For Candy Standardization."

In conclusion, you should all head over and love all up on Mermanda. Thank you.