One To The Moment We Live In Right Now And One To The East West North And South

My brother, Westy, is a bit rough and tough sometimes. He can be full of swagger and bravado and the things that occasionally come out of that boy's mouth would make a pirate blush (which delights me to no end.)

Despite that, when he doesn't know he's being watched he is the biggest sweetheart.

Don't tell anyone, though. It might ruin his image.

Happy 22nd birthday, buddy! I love you bunches.

Birthday Boy So Afraid Plays The Machines In The Arcade

Dear Westy,

If I were a mean older sister, I might talk about how when you were really young we used to dress you up in dresses and call you Natalie. I might post pictures of the mullet you sported from the age of two until you were about seven (seven! much too old to think that mullets are cool!) I would probably even tell the story of the time you cut your bangs off (completely off - you just had a sad little tuft at the top of your forehead) with Dad's mustache scissors and then finished your look by dumping a bottle of Mom's eau de toilette on your head.

It's a good thing I'm not a mean older sister.

Happy 21st birthday, Westy!

You're A Womanizer, Baby

Last night I dropped by my parents' place to show off Wolfgang. Westy was there with his girlfriend (sorry Over-Thinker, he's cheating on you) so we hung out for a bit. My mom mentioned that they had received my Christmas card in the mail and she was surprised to see that I hadn't changed my last name.

(Two things: First, the reason I signed my first and last name in the card is because it was my company Christmas card. I design the company Christmas card every year and I always send one to my parents because it's the one tangible thing I do for work that I can show to my parents so they'll stop telling people I answer phones for a living. Secondly, it is no big secret that I haven't changed my last name and frankly, I'm surprised that she didn't know. I'm also surprised that she would think that I would change my last name (not that there's anything wrong with women changing their last name when they get married, it's just not for me.) End rant.)

The following exchange is just one of many reasons why my little brother cracks me up:

Westy: You didn't change your last name?

Me: No.

Westy: Gawd. You're such a womanizer.

Me: What the ... what?

Westy: You know, all about women's rights and stuff.

Me: Uhh...

Westy: What?

You heard it here first folks, I'm a womanizer and proud of it.

Crazy Insane Got No Brain

I know it's only Wednesday but I'm going to get all Friday Faff up on you. This is due to me getting minimal sleep last night. Why did I get minimal sleep last night? Our New! Puppy! had a rough first night away from his momma. That's right, Stella has a little brother. Wolfgang (gah! love it!) is a miniature schnauzer yorkie cross. He is 8 weeks old and weighs about 4 lbs and oh my word he is just the cutest little thing you could imagine. When my brain starts working again I will post pictures.

Last night was rough. We've got the pups in separate crates that we pushed together so Wolfie wouldn't feel so alone. He cried most of the night. When he tired himself out and actually fell asleep, Stella would start whining and wake him up. I predict fun times ahead.

In other faffy news, I just joined Twenty Something Bloggers. I do realize that I'm the last person in the world to join and I'm not going to lie, I am overwhelmed. Can someone please explain it to me? Is it like facebook? What is with this "friends" business?

Last, but definitely not least, the big news of the day is that Westy is coming home tonight. Last week he got traded from Penticton (400 km from where I live, so a very doable 5 hour drive) to Drumheller. Drumheller is in the middle of nowhere. It's halfway through Alberta, which means it's a 13 hour drive (through the Rockies!) from where I live. This made us all very sad. Long story short, Westy played 2 games there, realized that he hates Drumheller, and requested a trade. He flies home tonight. He's been traded to a local team so he'll be living with my parents again. So, uh, fun times ahead for him too.

So there you go, all the faffy things running through my head today. I'm hoping to skive off work early today to get home to my puppppies! And to sleep. Sweet, sweet sleep. How I miss thee.

Diet Coke And A Pizza Please

My thoughts are all over the place. Consider yourself warned.

Friday Randomness:

Stella graduated last night. She has now completed Puppy Kindergarten and Puppy School Level 1 Obedience. We're taking a bit of a break from puppy school for now. Stella spends most of the class running around with the other puppies and she can do that for free at the dog park. Also, we're trying to cut back on all of our "luxury items" right now and I'm totally willing to give up Stella's schooling before I give up colouring my hair. Momma needs new highlights.

* * *

Somehow The Over-Thinker has convinced me to post every day in November. Get ready for a whole lot of babble.

* * *

Shawn and I are boycotting Hallowe'en this year. Last year we went all out - medieval-themed costumes, drunken pumpkin carving, raging house party, packed club. This year we feel old and grinchy. Last year we still lived downtown. This year we would either have to head home when the last train leaves at 1am or pay $40 for a cab ride to the 'burbs. It's a cold, rainy day in Vancouver today and the thought of slogging through hoards of people and trying to stay warm in my Wonder Woman costume is not appealing to me at all. Shawn doesn't even have a costume. Instead, we are planning to make home-made pizza (from scratch! even the crust! hold me) and watch the Canucks game. I still want to carve a pumpkin but that would entail going to the store and buying a pumpkin and I just might be too lazy to do attempt it.

* * *

When people leave questions in your comments, or leave a comment that you want to comment on, what do you do? Do you answer them in your comments? Do you email them directly? I am not the most computer-literate person. I know that you enter your email address when you leave a comment, but sometimes I will go to reply and the email address is listed as "noreply@blogger" or whatever. Sometimes I can reply by email with no issue. This has been nagging at me lately; I leave questions on other blogs - sometimes I get an email reply and sometimes I have to remember to keep checking back to see if the blogger has answered back in their own comments section. My brain is a little melty. What do you do?

Answers to the questions from the comment section of my last post:

Georgia, no I have not seen Spaced. The reason I asked is that I love British television. My favourite show is Green Wing (even though it's not on anymore. So sad.) Whenever I hear someone refer to their favourite British tv show, I secretly hope they are talking about Green Wing.

Qtilla, The Mentalist is really good. I've watched every episode so far and am really enjoying it. It helps that Simon Baker is gorgeous and his voice is like butter. After watching the first episode I was a bit undecided. I thought the last scene was creeeepy. I don't want to give the story away to people who haven't watched it yet but are planning to, so I'll just say that the storyline they introduced in the first episode (the lame-o back-story about Simon Baker's character) hasn't made an appearance in any episode since. Give it another shot!

Doahleigh, a drum clinic is when a drummer explains his technique, his gear, his preferences, etc. Shawn played bass to his buddy's drumming so that it was more like a show and less like a guy just going nuts on his drums.

Cory, a multi-card reader is on my Christmas wish-list. I'm grounded from shopping for myself until after Christmas. And I know that the cable is in the house somewhere. I'm just messy.

* * *

Westy is in town with his hockey team this weekend. They lost their game last night but hopefully they will win on Saturday and Sunday. When they win their coach lets them go out for meals with their families. When they lose the coach banishes them to their hotel rooms and they aren't allowed contact with anyone other than teammates. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they win - Stella loves her Uncle Westy and wants to hang out with him. And by "hang out" I mean "bite him."

Happy Hallowe'en!!

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.

And Draw One More Comic Tragedy

Right, so I googled the cheese/cocaine thing and found out that Turtle was wrong (maybe I should do my research before blindly posting random facts, though the random fact did come from someone with a Masters Degree.) Cheese has naturally-occurring opiates in it, not cocaine. Still though, cheese is addictive.

Anyway, my last post got me thinking about Father's Day dinner again. I don't think I accurately described Westy's comic genius. The cocaine / farmer thing was pretty funny, but funnier still was when my mom spilled her herbal tea and Westy declared "party foul" and told her she had to shotgun a beer. Or when we were talking about how I'm not opening any wedding presents until after the wedding just in case we don't end up getting married (I was being facetious; I'm not opening any wedding presents until after the wedding because I don't have the time or energy to deal with the opening of the presents and subsequent writing of the thank you cards) and Westy said I could just not tell Shawn about them (because he thought I wasn't opening presents because I didn't want to have to split them with Shawn if we don't get married, not because I'd have to return them to the gift-giver.) I think that's one of those "you had to be there" moments because man, I just butchered that anecdote and ruined all the funny bits.

Anyway, the point of this post is that my little brother kicks ass (and not just because he made snarky comments about the flippant comment makers to make me laugh.)

We'd Spend The Whole Weekend Lying In Our Own Dirt

My weekend in pictures:

taking a catnap, before the bandages come off

why I could never be a vegetarian

puppy love

ferocious beast

wedding invitations - almost ready to be mailed out

apple pie with crumbly cheese topping

Unphotographed weekend happenings:

- Westy's team lost, meaning they're out of the running to play in the RBC Cup in Ontario.
- S bought a suit (1 more thing we can cross off the wedding to do list!)
- I did absolutely no studying for my final (oh and I haven't finished the coursework yet either. And the final is on Saturday.)
- S decided that no, he doesn't want to go somewhere tropical for his 30th birthday. He's reverted back to his crazy Alaska idea.

Like A Hero Or A Champion You Are The Best You're The Best

Last night Westy and his team demolished their opponent to win the BCHL championship. They're on to Alberta next (as soon as the finals there are complete.) To say I'm proud would be an understatement. My little brother is such a star.

It's A Jam For The Ladies And The Superstars

Remember last week when I was all "we are going to work Stella's ass off this week with the puppy school homework and next week she is going to be the puppy school star"? Well. Tonight we have puppy school. Have we worked on the puppy school homework yet? Not so much. (And by "not so much" I mean not at all.) Clearly tonight is not going to go as well as we'd hoped. Our plan of attack is to exhaust Stella at the dog park before class.

Also last week, I wrote about Westy's team being up 2-0 in their playoff series. I didn't want to make any predictions, lest I jinx it again. I'm happy to report that they pulled off a 4-0 sweep of Westside and have moved onto the finals. Games 1 & 2 will be played on Friday and Saturday in Penticton. I'm being a bad sister and not driving up to watch - the soul-sucking English course is kind of kicking my ass right now and I need to complete it. I write the exam in a month and then I can forget it ever existed.

We're coming up on the 4-month mark in the countdown to the wedding. I am less stressy this month than last month. Last month I was suffering from a touch of Crazy. We haven't accomplished much in the last month but I'm surprisingly okay with it. I'm not sure if it's me being zen or me being in denial. Either way I'm happy to not be hyperventilating about the wedding (anymore.)

I was having a lot of angst over our wedding favours. I like the idea of giving each guest a token of our appreciation. I don't like the idea of buying a bunch of crap in bulk and having 100 coasters (or keychains or candles, etc.) left over at the end of the night. I wanted the tokens to be something consumable but with more thought involved than chocolates (not that there's anything wrong with chocolates - I just wanted the favours to be homemade and there's no way I'd be able to make chocolates. Also, the wedding is in August and I'm pretty sure if we had chocolate favours they'd melt.) So after much deliberation with Turtle (who has been beyond patient with me through this wedding planning process - lady, you rock!) I decided on jam. We're going to make small pots of jam for each guest to take home. I love this idea for a couple of reasons. First of all, Turtle and Bow have both already volunteered their jam-making skills. Secondly, we can make the jam well in advance and keep it in my mom's pantry (this is assuming I can get myself organized.) Thirdly, we can make cheesy labels that say "Thanks for Jamming with us!" (S is a musician and a lot of his friends are musicians so a portion of the reception will be all the musicians jamming on stage.)

So does anyone have any fabulous jam recipes they'd like to share? I've been searching online but haven't found anything that really jumped out at me. Most of the recipes I've found have flavoured gelatin in them (I'm assuming they mean Jello.) I'd prefer recipes that are just fruit, sugar and pectin (and I think lemon juice is a key jam ingredient but I'm not sure.) I've only ever made freezer jam before; this is my first foray into the canning world. I really hope I don't give all the guests botulism.

And My New Grandma Bea Arthur Come On Over

*Disclaimer for Jess: This post has pictures of food. If you are hungry, stop reading now.

This weekend was relaxed and slow and exactly what I needed. There was not 1 gin & tonic involved (shocking, I know.) Since moving out of downtown Vancouver, our social life has decreased somewhat. I think I'm okay with that. I haven't felt that bone-crushing exhaustion I used to feel Sunday afternoon after a weekend of bars, clubs and patios. I actually feel almost rested up and ready for the week ahead. It's bizarre and a bit unsettling but also nice. It's nice to feel healthy again. To not wake up feeling like you've been run over by a truck. To not be able to actually feel your sore liver. That being said, I am definitely in need of a girls' night out. I want to go out with my ladies, drink far too many gins and dance my ass off. I just don't want to deal with public transit at the end of the night :)

Last weekend I made the mistake of hoping Westy's team would lose on Friday so I could drive up to Vernon to watch their next game. Well I got my wish - they did lose on Friday. But then they lost on Saturday too, forcing their playoff series to go to the dreaded game 7. Fortunately they managed to pull off a win, advancing them to the next round. I was toying with the idea of driving up to Penticton this weekend to watch games 1 & 2 of this series but in the end my laziness won out and I stayed put. Turtle drove up for Friday's game and won a bucket full of jelly beans - clearly karma was trying to tell me something. Westy's team won both nights so they're ahead 2-0 in the series. I refuse to make any sort of predictions - I am keeping my big mouth shut. Games 3 & 4 are Tuesday and Wednesday.

I went to visit my grandma in the "retirement community" on Saturday. We had coffee and these:

I think the highlight of the visit was when she told me that she thinks my uncle is a "stupid ass." It was hilarious. He is a stupid ass, it was just funny to hear my 92-year old grandma say so. Or it could have been when she said she has solved Vancouver's homeless problem. She thinks we need to lock up the homeless because "then they'd have homes." What can I say - Grandma has an opinion on everything and Grandma's always right.

I made a banana cream pie this weekend for Easter dinner at future MIL's house. It was not a success. It was the first banada cream pie I've ever made and it will probably be the last. It tasted really good, it just looked like crap. So much so that I can't post a picture of it here because it will make you throw up in your mouth a little. It didn't set fully so it was very gooey looking. It also got that nasty pudding-skin on the surface. It was not an attractive dessert. So I smothered it in whipped cream and sprinkled it with nuts and told everyone to eat with their eyes closed. Now I need to come up with another dessert for next weekend's Easter dinner at my parents' house. Suggestions?

Friday Night Last Orders At The Pub

I'm over my strop - I think I just needed to vent my spleen to get it out of my system. So, um, thanks for listening!

Westy's team is up 3-1 in their playoff series. They play again tonight. On one hand I hope they win so the series is over and they can have a rest before the next round of playoffs start. On the selfish hand, I kind of want them to lose so they have to play again tomorrow. There's a slight possibility I could drive up to Vernon tomorrow if they have a game.

After working really hard on the soul-sucking English course for the last month, I've now become sloth-like. I haven't touched it for a week. This is a bad plan because I've only got until the first week of May to write 2 papers and finish the readings. Maybe this weekend will be super-productive like last weekend. Or maybe I will spend the weekend being a lazy arse - who knows?

Daylight Savings kicked my ass this week. It has been so difficult to get out of bed in the morning when it's still pitch black outside. Plus it's been grey and rainy during the day (which might have also contributed to my tantrum.) I have spent the last week daydreaming about tropical locations. S has decided that he doesn't want to plan his 30th Birthday Holiday Extravaganza. He wants to leave it to the week before and try to get a last minute deal. The frugal part of me agrees with him - we can get more bang for our buck if we wait. The type-A, list-loving, planner part of me is not loving this plan so much. I need to plan. I need to prepare. This is S's birthday trip though, so I'm trying to chill out. If he wants to leave it to the last minute, we'll leave it to the last minute. I'm hoping that all the Alaskan cruises will be sold out if we leave it too long, meaning that we'll be forced to go somewhere warm and sunny.

Happy Friday!

The Whole Damn World Invited Themselves To My Sunday BBQ

I had a really nice, chilled-out weekend.

Friday night I stayed downtown after work and had dinner with a friend I haven't seen in a while. It's a bit ridiculous - I moved from downtown the week she moved downtown. She's one of my Best Ladies so it's a bit sad that we don't see each other more often. Now that the wedding is less than 5 months away (gulp) I'm sure we'll see each other more often as I impose Best Lady duties on her.

After dinner I decided to forgo the Wild Night Out she had planned with a few of our other friends and went home to do homework. I actually managed to finish an assignment this weekend (hello Miss Efficient) so the soul-sucking English course is sucking a little less soul. There's just 7 weeks left until I write the exam and for the first time I actually feel like I might be done the coursework before then.

Saturday was spent bbq shopping. When we finally stopped renting and bought a condo, getting a puppy and a bbq were the things we were most looking forward to. I didn't think that getting a bbq would be such an ordeal. S dragged me to 4 (4!) stores before we finally found an acceptable bbq. It was ridiculous. I have never seen him so indecisive. I was no help at all, seeing as I know nothing about buying a bbq. My criteria was 'can it cook a burger? yes? sold!' but apparently there's more to it than that. After 3 hours of bqq shopping (I thought my head was going to explode) we finally decided on an electric bbq. You didn't know they make electric bbq's? We didn't either, until we reached the 4th store. The conversation went a little like this:

Me: Why do they make electric bbq's?
S: I don't know. Why not?
Me: Maybe some municipalities don't allow gas bbq's on balconies.
S: Maybe. Does our municipality allow gas bbq's on balconies?
Me: I don't know. You were in charge of the BBQ Acquisition Plan.
S: Well maybe we should get the electric.
Me: That would mean that we wouldn't ever have to worry about filling the propane tank.
S: And you wouldn't ever blow up the condo. (Which is harsh but ultimately fair)
Me: Sold!

So we brought home our cute little electric bbq and proceeded to bbq everything in the fridge.

After we tested out the bbq we watched the Canucks hand the Blues their asses on a platter.

Speaking of asses on platters, Westy's hockey team routed Vernon in both of their playoff games this weekend. Westy got 1 goal and 2 assists (not too shabby for a defenseman!) though the second assist was actually his goal until another player claimed he deflected it. There's no video replay so they have to take the player's word for it. Such drama on the ice. Anyway, his team had 2 big wins and Westy played 2 great games so hopefully the scouts were out that night.

Sunday was spent doing homework and watching a bizarre documentary on classic video games. We decided to hold off on painting the bathroom because I've changed my mind about the colour (shocking, I know.) I'm leaning towards moss green now.

* Update * Westy's goal was credited back to him so in 2 playoff games he's got 2 goals and 1 assist. Such a star, if you ask me (though that might be my big sister bias talking.)

It's A Celebration, Bitches

I have been dying of a headcold (the worst headcold. Ever) for the last 5 days so I haven't been keeping up with my google reader. I opened it this morning and was horrified so I promptly closed it. I'll be going back to work tomorrow - I'll deal with it then :)

Being sick has meant that I've had a lot of free time. Besides sleeping and ... umm ... dying, I also had time to do some sewing. Let me just say, I am not an artsy person. Also, I cannot figure out how to use a sewing machine. I can, however, make these:

My mother, bless her, calls them "soft sculpture" - I call them "those things I make, you know, out of felt and embroidery floss." I make them for friends when they have babies. This week I decided to depart from baby names. It all started with a call from my brother. He plays hockey so he pretty much lives wherever his hockey team is located. In the past 2 years he's lived in Port Alberni, Trail and now Penticton. This weekend his team is on a road trip, playing the lower mainland teams. This means we actually get to see him. It also happens to be his 20th birthday. My sisters and I always joke about being Westy's cheering squad but we've never followed through on our threats to bring embarassing signs to his games. Unfortunately for him, I had a lot of spare time this week.