I think the Chlamydia Sisters might be dead.
I am okay with this.
I think the Chlamydia Sisters might be dead.
I am okay with this.
Tofino was awesome. The weather was both horrific and spectacular – torrential downpours and glorious sunshine, sometimes both at once. We arrived just after 8pm on Friday night after a harrowing drive from Nanaimo, and immediately settled in for a weekend of fun.
We were there for less than 48 hours, but we crammed a lot of experiencing into those two days. Extended romps at Long Beach – fireworks – a great deal of lounging – side trips to Ucluelet, Cathedral Grove and Coombs – and all the food in the world. We didn’t have time to stick around for Sunday’s boat ride, but next time we will make it a priority.
My near-death (in my mind; it probably wasn’t as serious as that) didn’t stop me from going back to the beach, although I made sure to stay away from the shore. When we were out on Saturday afternoon, I was standing a goodly distance away from the water, taking pictures. All of a sudden, a rogue wave came crashing up the beach towards us – we all ran, but I was quickly overtaken by the water and found myself flailing crotch-deep in the pounding surf. I walked as fast as I could towards the others, but I could feel the water pulling at me and I almost lost my balance. I panicked and shouted for Ed just before the water ebbed around me and I was able to extract myself from the tide – but it was scary as fuck, and I was shaken for quite some time afterward (as well as soaked through every layer and squelching with every step).
I still need to sort through most of my pictures, but I managed to upload a few favourites this morning:
I don’t particularly want to ruin my NaBloPoMo streak by not posting, but I don’t have much content for this Sunday evening post. That’s not to say I don’t have anything to say – I just spent the weekend in Tofino and took almost 600 pictures – but I am TIRED and dirty and exhausted and kind of greasy. I want nothing more than to be naked with a cup of Diet Coke in one hand and three cats in the other, rolling around on the bed like tomorrow isn’t Monday. The clothes came off within seconds of arriving home, I have a frosty mug full of deliciousness, and the cats will eventually forgive us (probably right around bedtime). The pictures are downloading as we speak, and tomorrow I shall sort and upload and regale you with tales of fabulous nothingness and cheese breads.
I am tired.
Getting swept out to sea: I don’t like it.
We’re in Tofino. The four of us arrived last night, meeting up with the other four already at the cabin. It is awesome here, even when faced with near death via epic tides.
I’m posting from my phone in a sketchy-coverage area, so this will be short – in fact, it’s just long enough to say that I did survive the tidal wave and my boots were not waterproof and I may have to go home tomorrow pantless.
Which, of course, is just fine by me.
It’s November, which generally means a flurry of e-activity: NaNoWriMo, NaBloPoMo, Movember. My participation in NaBloPoMo isn’t really interesting any more, as this’ll be my 5th year or something – and my making an extra 3 posts a month to cover the days I wouldn’t normally write isn’t exactly front page news. I’ve always wanted to do NaNoWriMo, but I have serious doubts about my ability to write a flowing story of any length – I have a short attention span and tend to change subjects in the middle of paragraphs for fun and profit. That just leaves Movember – and let’s face it; while I am awesome and can do most things; I cannot grow a moustache.
Ed can, though. And he is. He’s participating in Movember for the first time ever – at first just for me (I’m curious; I’ve never seen him with a moustache) but then because he found out his place of employment is huge on Movember: they’ll match any donation he brings in. I know there are a ton of friends and family particpating, but please consider donating to Ed for that very reason – every dollar you donate is TWO dollars towards the fight against man cancer, and that is nothing but a good thing.
Plus, I’ll post pictures of his terrible creepiness as the ‘mo progresses.
I never get to have any fun.
At the moment though, this is a good thing – my present idea of “fun” involves Molotov Cocktails, drained cans of tuna, and clogging lessons.
Sometimes fun can be malicious!
I am about ready to put a hit out on our downstairs neighbours. They’re a pair of nurses who do shift work, and have the mentality of a couple of 14 year olds with parents out of town: any time is party time, regardless of what the clock says. They tend to start up around 10pm with the loud music, smoking, and singing. They have terrible taste in music – Celine Dion, Def Leppard, that one song from Ghost – and I want to slap their ignorant faces until someone spits blood.
Yeah, I’m kind of angry.
Last night they – the two ridiculous whores and their boys of the week – had another party. I’m long past the point of polite confrontation, as they refuse to answer the door and/or hide the guilty parties in the bedroom when we knock, AND refer to us as “the mean neighbour/s” when referring to us. I stomped on the floor a couple times, but when they started singing along to “Pour Some Sugar On Me” I lost it and had a little temper tantrum, hurting my foot in the process. Their response was to yell “FUCK OFF” and turn the music up, to which I screamed back “FUCK YOU” and had to do some breathing exercises to calm myself down so I wouldn’t stab large knives in their door as a warning. I hate them. I hate them so hard.
I really, really wanted to engage in a little passive aggressive payback this morning – they sleep when we wake up. I was actually prepping my sub woofer for some revenge when Ed stopped me, saying it just wasn’t a good idea. I know that, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to make them hurt – even if it’s just interrupting their sleep like they’ve done mine for the last month or so.
He did call our landlord, who just doesn’t care. He’s losing tenants left and right, and isn’t going to do anything to help one way or another. He’s actually thinking of renting them the Penthouse – an awesome idea, because then they’ll be pissing off 4 tenants and three other apartment buildings when they crank the music up at 1am on a Tuesday morning instead of just us. He doesn’t live in the building OR the area; what does he care? We were told to wake the building manager up the next time it happens, but the guy doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this kind of shit and has a pretty crappy life as it is; we like him and don’t want to make it any worse. So, we’re stuck. They get to party and smoke and generally be assholes all they want because the landlord won’t say boo either way, I get very little sleep each night, and my urge to do something incredibly foolish (but so satisfying) is rising every day.
I know we have a move coming up, but until the conditions are lifted this Saturday, I don’t want to celebrate – but when I do, you better believe it’s going to be loud and in the middle of the afternoon.
When Josh and Shan said they were buying a place, I was a little dismayed – it all happened so *fast*. I had no idea how they could have done it all so fast – the looking, the decision, the offer, the counter offer, the acceptance, the paperwork – surely this is a long, drawn out process and they were just rushing into things, right?
Ed and I saw a place on Friday at 5:30. Just over three hours later – 8:47pm, according to my outbox – we were emailing MJ with our intent to offer. Barely 18 hours after that, we were in a coffee shop in Park Royal with MJ, signing the necessary paperwork. 4 hours later – we had a counter offer. I emailed back our counter counter offer, and by 8:06 Saturday night we had an accepted offer on the unit. The seller’s paperwork was signed by 8am Sunday morning, and by noon we had initialed and dotted and crossed and now the waiting begins.
I absolutely understand how this could happen over a weekend.
I’m still a little shocked at it all. We’re doing the inspection on Wednesday, and assuming everything goes according to plan, all conditions will be lifted on Saturday and it’s a done deal. We’d be taking possession on December 12th, and spending the holidays in our very own home.
If I may direct the attention away from my own shock and awe, I would like to toot the horn of Social Media: we used the same realtor and same mortgage broker that literally all our friends have, and they are completely awesome. We’re new to this entire process and didn’t have a clue how to go about it, but we followed the advice and recommendations of people we know and trust and it led us to MJ and Chris, who have made it seem far too easy to buy a home. They are super! I know “Social Media” is an extremely fancy way of saying “Word of Mouth”, but we DID set up most of our meetings via Twitter so that has to count for something.
MJ’s site is funny: