He likes it scalding yet gentle. She prefers tepid yet abrasive.

They fight crime!

In retrospect, this case of Mondays is not the good deal it appeared to be in the store.

I did, however, have an excellent weekend. Ed and I drove to Seattle on Saturday morning to see Ali perform in Utopia, Ltd. It was so cool! The play itself was great, but seeing someone we know and love on stage in an official setting makes things extra fancy and fun. Ali looked great in her stage makeup and various costumes, and there is just something spectacular about a glow-in-the-dark tambourine act that cannot be described in mere words.

Ed and I took our sweet time getting to Seattle, and made it to the theatre with about 10 minutes to spare. That’s a little too close for my liking – I am a fan of arriving with ridiculous amounts of time to spare – but it worked out very well in the end. We meant to leave the house no later than 10 that morning, but fate and cat shit didn’t have us on the road until almost noon. We rolled into Bellingham at 2 and made our usual stops: Mi Mexico for lunch, and Target for various goods I can’t get in Canada. We had to stop at the house in Kenmore to pick up the tickets, and I got to break and enter into their house (unnecessarily, since Doug and River were at home). We gave River her belated birthday presents (including her very own Domo), I tried on my boots (verdict: fabulous; I wore them out that night) and then left for downtown Seattle.

After the play, we all went to Dick’s for burgers and parking lot hilarity. We turned in fairly early after that, but with the promise of brunch in the morning. Mike and Michelle came by the house, and we all went for a delicious late breakfast at the Preservation Kitchen. Ed and I hit the road after that – we didn’t want to leave Sasha alone for too long for fear of nasty cat bombs – but we had to stop at Trader Joe’s first for peanut butter and trail mix. Sated and laden with goods, we headed north and into a border lineup of epic proportions. The sign said 5 minutes, the actual wait was closer to 2 hours, and we were home by 6pm.

Now I’m back at work, and I am FREAKING OUT MAN – I have enormous important things to do and no time for any of it, not to mention requiring some sort of lunch. Times New Roman is pissing me off more than usual; I am out of Diet Coke, and AHHHHHHHH MONDAY IS FULL OF SUCKS

Also, the second wave of post cards will be going out this week – if you’ve requested one after the 14th, yours will be in the next batch. Never fear! Love is coming your way sometime this week!

Assuming my head doesn’t explode, that is.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

When Ed and I first started dating, his friends were cool about it. I met them all at the same time and we had some good times together. I liked his friends, they liked me, everyone was happy.

Ed’s best friend at the time had a question, though – he asked Ed what it was like, having sex with a fat girl.

I still think about that comment sometimes, and it always stings – like there was nothing else to me, no personality or physical atttributes that could be at all interesting – I’m just a fat sack of flesh with a vagina; how’s that working out for you? Do you have to look away or do it in the dark or think of porn stars to get it up around her? I mean, she’s *fat*. Sex couldn’t possibly be good!

That friend just got engaged, and my first thought was “I wonder if she’s fat”.

I guess we don’t always grow as much as people as we’d like.

(for the record, I’m awesome in the sack)

Hey. iPhone Application Developers. Spell check your work so you don’t look like a 2-bit operation.

I know that spelling and grammar are not everyone’s forte, and that most people actually don’t give a damn. However, there are a lot of people – like me – who will, subconsciously or otherwise, judge you by your words. I’m not necessarily talking about random quick communication such as text messages or email between friends, but rather things that are put out there for the general public to see: advertising, clothing, instructions, etc.

Maybe I take my love of the English language to extremes, but I visibly cringe when I see something with a glaring mistake in it. It’s a thousand times worse when that mistake is on a consumer product – how many people looked at this before it was released, and no one noticed the error? And you expect people to PAY for it? Are you insane?

One of the worst examples I’ve seen is probably this kid’s t-shirt for sale at Old Navy:

i hate you so hard

Not only are you selling this horrible thing with a terrible grammatical error; you’re selling it to CHILDREN. I wanted to burn the entire table of t-shirts, such was my outrage. I did take one to the checkout line to tell the vastly uninterested teenager behind the counter, but he just shrugged at the stupid fat girl angry over an apostrophe (or as they are commonly known, “sky commas”). Apparently, having a sense of pride and decorum over your ability to communicate at a level befitting your age and education background is, like, sooooo lame.

I’ve been going on a downloading rampage lately, grabbing any iPhone application that catches my eye. I generally ignore the free ones, because I am willing to pay money for a decent game or tool. That being said, for my $.99 I expect SOME level of professionalism – if you’re charging people money, the least you can do is run your product by someone who passed 5th grade English. I know $.99 isn’t a lot of money, but it’s the principle of it all – if I find a cringe-worthy mistake, I’m going to think less of you and your company for it.

Here’s a shot from a game called “I Dig It”. It’s currently the number 1 paid app in iTunes Canada. It’s a pretty neat little game; one that definitely looks good and kept me entertained .. until this happened:

grr

Really? You use the same word correctly later in the same sentence; what changed? I still play the game, but I think about the abused “your” every time I do and I turn my nose up at InMotion Software because of it.

This next example is worse. It’s a little app called Sleuth, and features a series of short mystery stories that the reader then has to solve, based on what you’ve read. It’s a neat idea, but the execution leaves a little to be desired:

help me mcgiver

brother can you spare a sky comma

I find this the worst offender of the two, because this app is nothing but words – it’s a reading game.

Maybe I just hold the rest of the world to too high a standard. I know mistakes happen – I’ve made more than a few myself, some with drastic results – but I still make a conscious effort to come across literate, and I’m not trying to sell you something. Why should I give money to someone who doesn’t care what kind of impression they make? Ignorance is not always bliss.

It’s not just me, is it?

*sigh*

As much as I love my Vespa, I don’t think you should buy one. Here’s why!

Disclaimer: this is, as is my entire website, 100% my own opinion – please don’t take my word for it just because you read it on The Internet; rather, do some research and go with what feels right for YOU. That’s the best advice anyone can give about anything, really – listen to your gut.

First, some history:

• First Scooter (2005): 50cc Honda Jazz named Sally – $3200 all in
• Second Scooter (2007): 125cc Yamaha Vino 125 named Oscar the Lady Tickler – $4500
• Second point Five (2009): Stage 2 upgrade for Oscar, making him 150ccs
• Third Scooter (2009): 250cc Vespa GTS Super named Darth Lola – $8250

I love scooters. I’ve wanted one since I was 12 years old, and as soon as we moved to Vancouver I started scheming and making plans to get one. Four years after my first ride, I still get a little thrill each and every time I’m riding around on a gorgeous day with an awesome piece of machinery betwixt my legs. It makes people look. Old people love them. It’s a conversation starter for young and old alike, and I will always stop to talk about scooters with anyone willing to ask.

Darth Lola is an incredible machine. She is by far the nicest scooter I’ve ever ridden, and she’s beautiful. She’s quiet and solid and really well-built and just .. awesome. Vespas are glorious machines with world-renowned style and sophistication that is quite unlike anything else out there.

That being said, I would not recommend buying a Vespa to most people.

There are two main reasons for this, so let’s tackle them one at a time.

Engine Size: 50ccs is not very many ccs. Every person I know with a 50cc scooter has eventually outgrown the engine and wanted something faster – not a racing bike, but certainly something that will keep up with traffic. This is exactly what I went through with Sally – I loved that bike, but a 50cc scooter has a top speed of around 60km/h. While the maximum speed on the Lions Gate Bridge and through the Stanley Park Causeway is 60, people generally go 80 .. on a slow day. What had been fine for getting me down Kingsway and into downtown was suddenly dangerously slow in my commute, and I needed more speed. It’s also a safety thing – in case of emergency, being able to accelerate past the danger is almost as important as being able to stop. At 50ccs, I routinely rode full throttle – if I needed more power to keep myself safe, it simply wasn’t available.

Maybe 50ccs is enough for you, and that’s great. What if it’s not, though? What if you want to someday go faster? This leads us to reason number two:

Price: Vespas are expensive. Very, very expensive. Lola cost more than Sally, Oscar, AND Oscar’s upgrades combined. This is okay – I’ll explain why in a second – but there are so very many excellent scooters out there that are cheaper than a Vespa, especially for a 50cc (or as I like to call them, “Starter Scooters”). Just look:

Italian Scooters

• Vespa LX50: $4495
• Vespa S50: $3995
• Aprilia SportCity 50: $2895
• Derbi Bullet: $2795
• Piaggio Fly 50: $2695

Japanese/Taiwanese Scooters (please don’t buy a Chinese scooter)

• Yamaha BWS 50: $3199
• Kymco Super 9: $3000
• Yamaha Vino 50: $2999
• Honda Jazz or Ruckus: $2949
• SYM Mio 50: $2695
• Kymco Sento 50: $2600
• PGO Metro or Big Max: $2595
• SYM Fiddle II: $2495
• Kymco Vitality 50: $2400

I would ride any bike on that list. Each one has its pros and cons, but it’s really the brand name and styling that separate them. Even the most expensive 50cc scooters are a good $1000 LESS than a comparable 50cc Vespa – yes, the Vespa will be well-built and have metal panels and the fancy name, but what if 50ccs is one day not enough? When you sell or trade your scooter in at a loss, which will be the easiest to swallow: getting $1500 for the ride you paid $4500 for, or the one you paid $2600 for?

If I think Vespas are outrageously (but understandably) expensive, why did I buy one? Because Darth Lola is my Forever Scooter. I had always planned to eventually be riding a 250cc scooter, and in that engine range, my options are rather limited. I knew I would probably end up with a Vespa, and I was okay with that because it would be my LAST scooter. I will not be upgrading from here – in fact, my goal is to have Lola long enough that she becomes vintage (look for me in 2065; I’ll be the 90 year old on the vintage ’09 Vespa). I didn’t mind paying extra for quality because Lola needs to last me for a long, long time (that being said, I did get her on sale which is why I have her now instead of next year). If you are planning on buying a scooter and know in your heart of hearts that you will never, ever want to upgrade to something bigger, then by all means – splurge and get yourself something that will last. If you’re at all unsure, though .. look around. Maybe the Vespa will be right for you, and that’s awesome. There are so many others out there though, and many of them are just as cute.

Okay, that is a lot of words. If you have additional questions, feel free to comment ‘em and I will spring forth additional knowledge.

Scooters are awesome.

I rarely gush about things (shut up), but I have to give some mad love to Gama-Go.

While Ed and I were in San Francisco in May, one of the more extravagant purchases I made was this bag. We had already agreed that we (ie: me) were not going to go crazy with the spending on our trip, and also that we would forego our annual ridiculous birthday gift exchange. For the most part, I behaved myself admirably – even Ed agreed that I didn’t blow wad after wad on awesome things (as I am so very often wont to do).

Still, I really wanted this bag. It was a little more than I usually spend on my army of messenger bags, but when would I be in San Francisco again? I love Gama-Go products, and this was a gorgeous bag that would go perfectly with my Gama-Go wallet. I bought it and giggled to myself (I love messenger bags, okay) even as Ed rolled his eyes at me.

Unfortunately, after using the bag for about a month, I noticed that a large hole had formed in the body of the bag where the strap is attached. The material was disintegrating, causing the fabric to fray and the hole to get bigger with every movement. I was very sad. I hadn’t abused the bag at all, and now it was unusable – not even my sub-par but effective sewing skills could weave nylon back together.

I was so very sad about it that I did something I never do – I emailed the company to tell them. I wasn’t really expecting anything to come of it, as I’ve had pretty lousy luck with customer service lately (midtownshoes.com, I’m looking at you and you still suck). Still, I dashed off a heartfelt letter – I was a big fan, I have tons of Gama-Go stuff (true story: both Oscar and Lola are decked out in Gama-Go stickers in additional to my standard adventure wallet), but my bag is very broken and I am a sad girl.

Later that same day, I actually received a reply! Simon apologized for the bag and said he would send me a replacement! I did a little dance and sent him my info. In all honesty, I still wasn’t expecting anything but I was glad that someone had actually answered my email – I have low expectations, apparently.

That was on July 3rd. Today, our receptionist messaged me – there was a package waiting for me at the front desk. I impatiently waited out my conference call, then ran to get my mail. Inside the large white box: a replacement Pomegranate Palisade Go-Right, just as promised. YAY! THANK YOU, GAMA-GO! I loved you before, but now you have a true devotee for LIFE!

Hooray for happy endings!

I need a monster truck.

What seemed an innocent parking bee has turned into a full-fledged pissing contest: we appear to be caught up in trying to out-do one another.

When I first started parking in the Secret Area, it was just Oscar and a little gray Dio. Eventually we were joined by a third scooter; a gray Vino 50. We lived in harmony for a while, but then the game started: the Dio disappeared and was replaced by a shiny new Vino 125. Not content to have something the same (but clearly more awesome) as someone else, I went out and accidentally came home with Darth Lola.

For a couple weeks, we lived in harmony with my penis clearly being the largest: the Vespa 250, the Vino 125, and the Vino 50. YEAH! I win! I’m the best and my dick is the biggest of them all!

.. someone upgraded to a Kawasaki Ninja Something or Other.

FUCKER.

Obviously, my next move must be epic – and that’s where the Monster Truck comes in. A shiny black one, with 3-storey high tires and a naked lady straddling a unicorn in front of a full moon with a howling wolf and maybe a dragon wizard airbrushed on the side. Let’s see you guys top THAT.

So hey, the Province is doing a “Best of BC” blog list. They’re looking for people to nominate their favourite blogs via email:

Send us a link, tell us what they blog about and why you like them. Once we’ve received enough nominations, we’ll post links to these popular blogs on our website.

Blogs can be about any subject, as long as the individuals behind them are based in B.C. and operate independently rather than as part of a media outlet. There is no limit on the number of blogs you can nominate.

.. if you have a spare second, would you consider nominating me? I am in BC, I blog with passion and without pants, and I’m definitely not a media outlet or a self-aggrandizing jerk (even when I try to be). Just an idea. No pressure.

A whole bunch of you have apparently emailed in, and thank you! I think we’re pissing them off, though – the replies I’ve been hearing have been getting curter and curter with every email. I hope they’re not mad – it certainly wasn’t my intent to flood them with love from my seven readers – but I think my existence has been noted :D

Who wants a ride in my Monster Truck?

I’m back at the office, and there wasn’t a large box with all my posessions in it when I arrived so I will take that as a good sign. I haven’t been without momentary flashes of panic, though – having someone mumble something about missing me but my brain hearing “I’m going to miss you” almost made me pass out with shock. I don’t think I could take it if anything bad truly happened as opposed to my overactive imagination filling in the blanks – I’m likely to wet myself (and my pants, and we all know what’ll happen then).

Ed is the most patient of men, and while I was in Victoria he went to the post office not once but twice to pick up the various things that were waiting for me. My awesome silver shoes finally arrived, and they are spectacular and hilarious (albeit a little less fantastic due to the horrible ordeal of actually getting my order). The other box was large and heavy and altogether mysterious – what on earth did I buy that could warrant a box this big?

Books. Startlingly large books. One of the books is all about makeup, which is exciting but not really all that scandalous – I was expecting a small volume, but it’s a very large book that seems to cover every major cosmetic brand. Neat! It will be fun to dive into before I make my first (of many) trips to Sephora in Vancouver.

The other book – Pride and Prejudice and Zombies – is of standard paperback book size, but I am eager to read it because zombies are awesome.

Then there was the penis book.

Someone had mentioned the dimensions of the book to me online, but I didn’t pay much attention. I kind of wish I had, because when I uncovered the book on my desk, I was in for a very, very large surprise: the book is HUGE. Enormous. Coffee-table-book sized. It is not just a Big Penis Book; it is a Massive Book of Frightening Large and Eerily Shiny Penises.

The book is 12” by 12” and probably 3” thick. It’s bigger than most things in my house – laptops, dictionaries, cats. It is really, really big. I was not expecting that – I have tons of Taschen books that range in size from small paperback to slightly larger paperback. The sheer size of the Big Penis Book threw me for a loop, and I hadn’t even opened the damn thing yet.

In fact, I still haven’t. I brought it downstairs for Shan and Miranda to look through (verdict: ewwwww), but I haven’t had a chance to sit down and inspect the genitalia contained therein. Miranda did discover that the cover of the book comes OFF, though: you can take the underwear off the gentleman on the front of the book to see exactly what is under there (answer: giant penis). I would take pictures, but I fear that would be in poor taste (and more importantly, against copyright laws). Just .. take my word for it. It is a shocking book in more ways than one.

I hate doing this, but I’ve got so much floating around in my head at the moment that I can’t stop to sort it all out into elegant prose. It’s time for another Series of Random Thoughts Presented in Bullet Points!

• I woke up today with an incredible headache so I opted to drug myself and attempt to sleep it off. Sure, I’ve been away from the office since last Tuesday – what’s one more day?
• .. and while I was gone, layoffs were announced! Awesome! This sudden blinding panic does little to relieve my throbbing headache!
• The postcards I sent last week are starting to arrive – hooray! I hope they all make their intended destinations. I had a great time writing them, and still have more available – if you didn’t get your name in, drop me a line at kimli at delicious juice dot com for your very own personalized saucy postcard from Canada!
• I’m selling my iPhone 3G – it’s black, 8GB, perfect condition, contract-free. $275 obo; email me if interested.
• My EEE PC is still available, as is Oscar – people should buy my stuff.
• Yesterday was Josh’s birthday and we celebrated with a frosty BBQ at the beach and dinner at La Casita in Gastown. Delicious good times for all!
• Just because Lola CAN go 120km/h+ doesn’t mean she SHOULD – I don’t like going that fast on a scooter, no matter how gloriously solid she is. Scary.
• I would really really like this headache to go away
• I really really hope I still have a job
• Being at mom’s house stresses me out – in addition to a broken brain, I have a zit
• Midtownshoes.com sucks all the ass in the world. I placed an order on May 31st for one pair of boots and one pair of shoes. All of June went by with no shoes, so I emailed them – twice – to inquire about my order. No answer, and no shoes. I was looking up some information on how to do a chargeback with my bank when I noticed that they actually refunded me the cost of the boots (which were the ones I really wanted), with no email or explanation. The remaining pair of shoes arrived on July 10th, after being shipped on July 1st – why the fuck did they sit on my order for an entire month before sending it? Why didn’t they answer my emails? Why wasn’t I given an alternate option for the boots (I would have taken another colour)? Shan purchased from midtownshoes.com in April, and received her order in 3 weeks with no issues whatsoever (although they didn’t answer HER inquiry email either). I’ll never, ever order from them again – midtownshoes.com is a bad place to buy shoes. Don’t do it.
• Someone keeps calling my phone and asking for Ben. I am not Ben. Please stop calling.
• I promise I will return to real sentences and paragraphs tomorrow.

Victoria broke my brain.

I came home yesterday on the 3pm ferry, and was home by 5:30. Things were going swell – the cats were completely ambivalent to my return, Ed had done the dishes and bought some Diet Coke for me, there were hilarious books and silver shoes waiting for me on my desk. It was very nice to be home. There may have been naked times. All was good.

A little later, there was hunger. We decided to meet the crew at the Raven in Deep Cove for some eating, but when we got there, we learned that an entire baseball army had descended upon the Raven and they were packed to the point of turning people away at the door because they were over capacity. Not one to ever cause fire hazards simply by being in a bar, Ed and I discussed Plan B while I texted back and forth with Shan to see what the consensus was.

And then my brain completely fucking broke.

The “what do you feel like eating?” “I dunno, what do you want?” “I dunno, what do YOU want?” argument has got to be one of my least favourite things ever. I made several suggestions to Ed, who didn’t like any of them and I was quickly getting frustrated – I was hungry and tired and unbeknownst to me, completely fucking mental in the brain. After several minutes of going back and forth trying to figure out what Ed WOULD eat as opposed to what he didn’t want, I lost it in an epic fashion. I was letting my frustration be known in a constructive way (raising my voice and getting slightly hysterical) when everything just .. exploded. I ended up sitting in the car in the parking lot of White Spot, sobbing my eyes out and wailing something about “4 days .. 4 days of this ..”. I scared Ed. I scared myself. I couldn’t stop crying – I was completely broken.

Eventually I wore myself out, and I cleaned myself up enough to go inside to join the others. I think the last week was harder on me than I realized – seriously, I’m not normally prone to freaking out like that – but I felt a little better afterwards. I’m glad to be home. Here, no one makes me buy them lunch twice because “wonton soup” isn’t the same as “wonton noodles” or bitch at me for 5 minutes straight because I didn’t get a fork the first time ’round.