Monthly Archives: May 2013

you can’t take the sky from me

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Listen up, Vancouver:

I know it’s May 29th and the weather kind of sucks. It’s a Wednesday, which is usually the worst day of the week what with the no end in sight. Maybe you slept poorly, or you missed your bus, or your boss has been riding your ass about the Harrison account. Car’s in the shop? Pants are too tight? Husband fell asleep after his orgasm and forgot about yours? I get it. Stuff sucks all over.

But that is NO REASON to be such a RAMPAGING MEGA BITCH all over my happy little Wednesday, you stuck-up harpy twats.

Everyone is so cranky today. I got many nasty looks on the bus from various women who disapprove of my bountiful bosom – many more than usual, that is – and when I got to work, four different snooty ladies in high heels were varying degrees of bitchy towards me. Was it really necessary to yank the door out of my hand because I evidently wasn’t moving fast enough? Did you really need to shove past me to get to the elevator first? I’m sorry that my accidental crossing of your path ruined your day to the degree your heaving sigh warranted, and yes please throw shade my way because I accidentally brushed your $ridiculously expensive, utterly hideous designer bag with my low-brow self. I earned your scorn! Teach me to always defer to the better-dressed!

Seriously, people. What the fuck could be so terrible that you have to not only ruin your day, but the days of those around you? Not at all cool, and I refuse to play along: for every person who glares, harumphs, sneers, or tuts my way, I shall counter with a brilliant, mocking smile. You won’t bring me down, nasty people! I laugh at your general disapproval and grim-but-well-toned asses!

wardrobe malfunction

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My zipper broke at work today. I’m wearing a dress, as usual, and the zipper (which I never use; I just pull the dress over my head) decided it was done with life and split right in the middle. I tried to fix it, but the damage was catastrophic – I barely managed to get things under control let alone zipped up again. Naturally, the zipper is a very long one that goes from the neck down to my tailbone and without it, the dress is prone to flapping to and fro and also falling off. What’s a girl to do?

I sent out an emergency email begging for safety pins or a sewing kit, but came up almost empty. I was only able to scrounge up three safety pins and numerous offers of a stapler, and I definitely didn’t want to go home for the day just because I’m dangerously close to naked .. so I improvised with the tools at hand:

  • An emergency t-shirt
  • 3 safety pins
  • 1 binder clip
  • A kilt pin

I sprinted to the bathroom, put the dress on backwards, and voila:

you can hardly tell there's a problem!

you can hardly tell there’s a problem!

I can’t actually close the dress because when it’s on properly my boobs fit nicely into the boob pockets, but I can at least use the pins to keep the dress closed to just below my ribs. Sure, I look a little deranged, but it’s Monday so it’s okay.

MacGyver’s got nothing on me!

16309

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This never fails to make me laugh:

Even more, now that I’ve seen the new Star Trek movie (which I enjoyed, even though the destruction of San Francisco is really going to fuck up our vacation plans .. again).

This week: exciting news, for real!

Aren’t you just a-tingle with anticipation?!

coast clear

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Ed’s appointment with the doctor was almost anti-climatic: they found nothing. The doctor theorized that Ed’s body was fighting off a Mega Infection by being a bit of a dick, so reinforcements in the form of antibiotics ought to turn the tide of war in his favour. Ed was given a prescription and sent on his way, and that’s that. He should be feeling better by Saturday, and if he’s not .. well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but all the results from his blood test and germy swabs came back on the excellent side of normal (show off) which is better than we were hoping for (we had already self-diagnosed a stage 8 case of golf herpe aids).

Thank you all for the comments and emails and texts – they definitely helped me calm down. Last night I was even able to sleep, and food is remaining in my body. I may even start planning our trip to San Francisco again, as we’ve both been remarkably apathetic about the entire thing.

Real life is scary.

using my words

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At this particular moment in time, I’m more scared than I can ever remember being.

Ed is sick. He’s been sick for a while now. What started out as a cold lingered, turned into bronchitis, then the flu. He’s had a rattle in his chest for months, and extremely painful lymph nodes. He’s pretty much in discomfort 24/7, and there isn’t a hell of a lot he can do about it.

It could be anything. He might have an infection, or a nasty case of strep throat, or even tonsillitis. Maybe he really did swallow some golf balls, and forgot about it. Maybe our imaginations are running away with each other, and it’s a silly minor thing that’ll be cleared up quickly.

But maybe it’s not.

That last maybe is unbearable. I’ve been tense with worry for weeks, and today it all came to a head – I am freaking out, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to show how scared and worried I am, because Ed needs me to be calm so HE doesn’t freak out. I had a good handle on it – sure I can’t sleep or keep food down, but I kept things light hearted and superficial. Today, though. Can’t get through today. I want to scream and yell and cry and swear and throw things and make an awful racket to drown out the things in my head .. but I can’t. Have to stay calm. I want to be comforting and soothing, but I don’t know how – I feel brittle and sharp, like I’d shred your flesh if I got too close. There’s a giant wall of fear and worry and I can’t see through it to be what he needs, and knowing that is making it worse – I can never be what he needs. I am bad at everything.

He has an appointment tomorrow morning to discuss test results. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s something, but minor and easily fixable. Maybe by the weekend he’ll be feeling better and we can look back on this terror and laugh. Maybe I’ll figure out how to set aside a lifetime of living inside my own head and learn how to say the right thing; perfect words that’ll make him better. Maybe there’s something on the internet that’ll teach me how to be a better wife.

It better not be on YouTube, though.

How do you deal with crushing fear? I’m fairly certain the answer is “do the opposite of what you’re doing”, but I can’t shake it. I held it together for so long, but tonight I’ve lost it and I feel like the worst person ever and I can’t get past my own freaking out to be what he needs and that fucking sucks so hard.

Scared.

may long

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It’s just not a long weekend if I don’t completely fuck up my sleep patterns for no good reason. Up until 2am! Awake at 6! Rinse and repeat until today, when I actually wanted to get up and out of the house early – except I was so tired from three nights of poor/small sleep I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and I ended up napping at 8am! Boo. Today was .. not productive, unless you count the skirt: I finished up a skirt made up of a dress I cut in half. There was also a lot of me time, and perogies. Both the me time and the perogies involved a lot of bacon, so I suppose it was a good day after all.

As far as long weekends go, it was a quiet one. I tried to rouse interest in people for social times, but that failed spectacularly so Ed and I just hung out with ourselves. We had a really good time by our lonesomes: there were hidden comic book stores, a trip up Burnaby Mountain where there were bees, terrible terrible frozen yogurt, ALL THE ANIMALS EVER, Five Guys, and more: adventure! Apparently, we ARE capable of doing more than playing Guild Wars 2/MechWarrior Online for untold hours at a time. Good for us.

So, Burnaby Mountain. We like going up there because it’s rarely busy, and there are some spectacular views of the city and Burrard Inlet. Saturday turned out to be really nice, so after a variety of fascinating errands we took a drive up to see what we could find. Answer: all the bees ever, a battered old ladybug, some incredible views, and honest-to-god raindrops on roses (the whiskers on kittens and warm woollen mittens were at home).

Sunday was more of the same: morning moping, then afternoon in the sun. We went to North Vancouver to try out Menchie’s Frozen Yogurt, which was actually terrible: I didn’t know it was possible to make frozen yogurt taste horrible, but then there’s Menchie’s. We love Pinkberry and Qoola, but never again shall we be swayed by an adorable logo – Menchie’s was gross. We couldn’t find one flavour of yogurt that didn’t taste like ass (how do you fuck up strawberry), and settled for their sorbet which tasted like deodorant. Honestly, the best part of the visit was the awesome friendly cat that came to say hi on the patio, and the cute spoons.

Next up: Stanley Park. I wanted to see if there were any baby geese about, so we parked along Lost Lagoon and went for a walk. On our walk we saw:

  • Ducks
  • Geese
  • Vampire Ducks
  • Heron (which I can’t pronounce)
  • A baby heron trying to pass itself off as a duck
  • A mother swan sitting on an enormous nest with three eggs in it
  • Two raccoons (or maybe one raccoon that followed us around) that Ed wouldn’t let me take home
  • Squirrels
  • A goose brawl
  • Turtles
  • A pair of geese with 21 BABY GEESE OUT FOR A FAMILY SWIM OMG
  • Stupid people feeding the raccoons
  • More epic scenery
  • Seagulls being ominous

.. and more, all in the span of an hour. Lost Lagoon in the spring has been officially added to my List of Things I’ll Miss if I Leave Vancouver, which was sort of an ongoing theme over the weekend. There are things I would miss, like the easy access to nature and wildlife. My goal throughout the summer is to remind myself of all the things I’d miss if I left, and to recapture the joy I had when we first got here .. but that’s another post I’m not ready to write yet, so moving on.

Which we did, to Five Guys. I miss the one at Park Royal (which will be back when all the construction is done), but the new location downtown helps – at any rate, it’s not Surrey. I may love Five Guys in my mouth, but I’d never go to Surrey to satisfy my itch (unless that itch involves picking up Stephanie on our way out of dodge).

We really did see a lot this weekend, so I can’t really complain. I did, though. Out loud, where no one can hear me.

I’m looking forward to going back to work tomorrow: interesting things are afoot and hopefully I will have some news soon. News! It has goo written all over it!

i’m in the goo!

vacation slides

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Television has taught me that there is nothing people in the past liked better than to gather in a darkened room with a scotch in one hand and a cigarette in the other, fire up the ol’ Kodak, and look at pictures of someone’s vacation. It was like taking the best AND worst of Instagram and adding a hostage situation to make it more fun. It was PowerPoint and scrapbooking rolled into one, without the kitschy themes and those dreadful quote stickers. It was a pure piece of historic Americana .. and now it’s back, and friggin’ ADORABLE:

tiny tiny projector is tiny tiny cute!

tiny tiny projector is tiny tiny cute!

Meet Projecteo! It was a Kickstarter project I backed last year because I love ridiculous gadgets, cute things, and spending money. Mine arrived yesterday, and it is so cool! It fits in the palm of my tiny elf hand, is powered by three (included) watch batteries, and came with a reel of my 9 favourite Instagram pictures. You’ll soon be able to order more reels, which will be awesome – I’m already planning all kinds of hostage situations in which you’re forced to view my vacation slides even though you’ve already seen the pictures on Instagram, Facebook, and my  blog. Too bad! They’re different when shown in tiny 35mm format! The picture quality is very good (don’t let my picture above fool you – it’s hard to take a good picture of a tiny slideshow projected onto an iMac in a bright office with a phone) (hah that sentence is so future times), and it’s super fun to whip it out and show people (just like genitals!).

I’m totally pleased with the outcome of this Kickstarter. TINY CUTE GADGET! HOORAY!

warning

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Here’s a helpful tip from me to you:

Don’t put yogurt in your pocket.

Specifically, don’t put yogurt in your pocket and then forget you put yogurt in your pocket.

You will inevitably squish it and end up with soggy yogurt in your pants, and then people will laugh at you.

I’m not sure if they’re laughing at the giant wet spot or the fact that I had yogurt in my pocket, but they are definitely laughing.

Now I am sad and soggy and probably sticky.

Today sucks. THANKS OBAMA

in the pudding

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I took Friday off work anad went to Victoria, because I felt guilty for reasons. I didn’t want to go, and until I was on the ferry I was in danger of changing my mind – but I did my daughterly duties (and then some), so I’m off the hook for a little while. I do plan on scooting to Victoria this summer (because it is one of the greatest times ever), but I think we’re going to call it a vacation and stay at a hotel: I hate my mother’s place, and I hate the week of back pain I get for every night I sleep on plywood.

I gave my mom all the presents this weekend, which covers me for Mother’s Day and her birthday in early June. Ed and I gave her a new TV to replace the dinosaur 27″ CRT she had (and still has, because the two of us were unable to lift the damn thing to move it out of the living room), and I had a couple pictures of her cat done up in fancy frames by Hatchcraft. I also used the Power of the Internet to order her a CD she mentioned, and took her out to lunch. I am a Good Daughter <tm>.

Before leaving yesterday, I got a chance to go through my dad’s papers. While I couldn’t find anything belonging to my grandparents, I did find my dad’s birth certificate and my parent’s marriage certificate. While I was away, I also received the birth certificate of the correct Edith Jane Cornes in the mail. All this means that I can:

  • Prove my grandmother was born in England
  • Prove my father was born of the woman who was born in England
  • Prove I was born

.. is that enough?

My grandmother had many siblings, some of whom helpfully attended the official birthing ceremony (or whatever they did in the early 1900s) of my dad – two of her brothers are listed as witnesses. Thanks to the work Ken did, I’m certain the line he found is the correct one, and people from that family can be traced from birth in England, through immigration to Canada, and in some cases, death. I still don’t know how my grandparents met, when they got married, and what happened to Edith after her husband died. I may never know, but that isn’t the pressing point here: is this enough to get me to the UK?

If I can prove the blood lines, it seems weird and archaic that I would have to prove the legality of it all. After all, I missed being illegitimate by two weeks – even if my parents hadn’t married, I’d still belong to them.

Interesting stuff. Still all hypotheticals, but at least I’m getting somewhere.

all new 100% organic grandmother

all new 100% organic grandmother

what.

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An iOS game in which you use a slingshot to break up the suicidal thoughts of others? French people, you weird.

bad day? razor blades and poison mushrooms!

bad day? razor blades and poison mushrooms!

this is weird, right? it's not just me?

this is weird, right? it’s not just me?

Not much going on. Kinda bored, actually. Need some excitement.

this is interesting, but not really exciting unless you like the smell of pee.

this is interesting, but not really exciting unless you like the smell of pee.

Things make me sigh.