So... new images

I'm possibly the luckiest girl in the world, in that I got pretty flowers and bee glasses and dinner at a french bistro and an afternoon adult-themed interlude in the shower. Of course I'm not *that* lucky because the sweet innie car is acting up, so we couldn't go watch hockey in anaheim today.

sigh.

Holy crap when I changed my shirt today, I took my bra off and there was a black cat hair stuck to my nipple and I had a minor heart attack. I saw my sexlife flash before my eyes and imagined weekly waxing sessions at the hair salon. Quelle mortification. Luckily, though, one of the cats was just wearing my bra when we were out last night. Does anyone else's pets romp through their undergarments when they aren't paying attention?

Yeah, didn't think so.

happy vd(ay)

So what with being at home all day I've had some time to get a little crafty. I like playing around with photoshop (I'm self-taught so not that remarkably skilled, as of yet), and I like words, so I muss about and combine them now and again. Take this little image, for example. I came up with it, borrowed a few lines from my main man bill shakespeare, and had them printed onto a transparency (you know, for overhead projectors). Then I folded the transparency over a piece of silvery vellum, stuck a square of pomegranate cardstock to the center of the vellum, wrote some smushy love crap on the cardstock and hey presto, a valentine for the architect.

Look at me go.

Vistors, busy, visitors

So a year ago today, the architect asked me to marry him. It's kind of shocking how fast the days have gone by, really. Two years ago we lived in our killer house in vancity and I had the flu. Three years ago I was trying to remember that it's best to stay sober before attempting to decorate cakes, in preparation for the sister's bday dinner. I was also still blogging <1 a day and publishing photos of my tah-tahs, but 3 years ago I was skinny so www/e.

I'd made some good inroads last week as far as healthy diet and exercise were concerned. Of course we promptly flew to Orlando and dove into a veritable orgy of business meals and cocktails, and now my folks are here so my routines are off. I really *REALLY* want to lose some weight in the next couple of months, though, so I've got to put my nose to the treadmill, as it were.

good morning

Apparently the architect's coffee is taking effect. Just heard from behind the bathroom door: "Oh my. I do say. That's quite delightful."

Heh.

cadbury mini eggs

Were back in the store in Canada. I haven't seen any here, yet, but considering the fact that american chocolate sucks just so much more than Canadian, I'm not on a huge quest.

I also ate a real egg when I was in Canada, and then had another one yesterday. Yay eggs for breakfast again! I've genuinely really truly missed eating eggs.

I apologize for the fractured and uninspiring nature of this blog post. Yesterday I was thinking I should really start daily writing because I usually have random thoughts etc. Today I can't recall one of those thoughts to save my life. I did just bust out my hand held massager, though. Good times.

Oh and I get to cross Florida off the list of states I've never visited as of next Thursday! Yay travelling!!!

I'm back

in Vancouver for a flying trip through the city. I currently have a belly full of way too much sushi purchased for me by the kiddo. This is mostly a good thing, except for the vague need to expel said sushi through the most convenient orifice.

I'm still vaguely butthurt by folks who never visit me, so I'm not going out of my way to spend a huge amount of time with them. I've told people my plans and given them the opportunity to tag along if that is their wont but my focus is on hanging with the kiddo and the fam.

It's incredible how fast a week goes, though. Here it is Thursday and I'll be home with the architect on Sunday gearing up for our February trip to Florida. I feel pretty relaxed because I haven't made myself rush about to see everyone, but am dead broke because I forget how expensive shit is in Canada. Oh well....

Remember

back when Joaquin Phoenix was hot?

Not so much anymore:

Announcement

I have burned the CRAP out of the top of my mouth on cheese pizza once again.

Cheese pizza and curry chips (not together. gross.) are my personal diet kryptonite. Well, those plus wine. And beer. That's it though - usually I'm pretty good with the food intake. If I could just get rid of those four things from my diet I'd be svelte and hot once more.

Anyhoo, so my friend treated me to lunch today because she has a crush on the pizza boy from the shop near my house. We had a couple of heady moments this afternoon when we thought he was the pizza owner, not just re-heater, but alas he spends most of his free time playing video games, getting tattooed, and waiting for Comic-Con. I've been kind of flirty/chatty with him since we moved over this way so we have a bit of a repartee, and today he gave us a sweet deal on our lunch and two free extra slices. He's pretty fricking hot, it's true, and my friend and I had a chuckle pondering the elaborate scheme he would undertake to woo me away from the architect ('cause you know, that could happen). The best we came up with involved a unicorn, a pink vespa, a sexy grotto constructed from pizza boxes, and a parade. Ah good times.

I may slip into a cheese covered pizza coma, though, so please send help if you don't hear from me any time soon.

Random thoughts RE: foodie culture

So I'll admit to a certain amount of interest in things "foodie" that has mostly to do with how much I like to cook, a bit to do with my obsession pop culture, and a solid chunk to do with my love for Bourdain. Like I have the links at the side which I follow, I watch a couple of shows (not the reality ones, though I've got a small fondness for GRamsay's british version of Kitchen Nightmares), I subscribe to some magazines, and I keep up with the trends.

I've found, though, the to-do over who will be the next white house chef a little puzzling. Certain folks (i.e. the head of the CIA (culinary institute, not intelligence agency)) have said that it should be a rotating position of America's star chefs, much like Kennedy used to rotate artists and performers through. This seems like a bit of a conceit to me, in that the position is, more than anything, that of a household chef - chiefly responsible for running a kitchen for a family. It's not something that seems suited to the ego which probably goes along with a chef who has also been thrust into the spotlight by the food network or the NYT. I mean, I love chefs - I've dated two, over the years, and not-dated any number more - but they *do* have an ego. It's part of the job, I think, and necessary. Could Batali tone down his 'tude and make grilled cheese with Kraft singles for the kids? I dunno.

Oh and let's not pretend like Kraft singles don't make the best grilled cheese, ok?

I other news, I finally watched the Bourdain christmas special in which he cooks dinner for QOTSA. Josh Homme and Bourdain on the same screen? Ugly christmas sweaters aside, pretty fucking hot. I barely needed the subliminal Cialis advertising that kept flashing on the screen for the last two sections.

Pondering

I'm glad that scrabulous is back in its new incarnation. Funny name aside, it kicks serious posterior over that EA official abomination with the corporate-sanctioned name.

I went to a bar to watch my first playoff football game today. All told, it's not nearly as interesting as hockey. I mean, it could be just that I don't get what's going on, but I've got to say that I don't get the interest. The bar sure gets loud, though - reminds me of Stanley Cup nights. Le sigh.

So I'm going home for a week next Sunday. Indulging in a little social network stalking, I've noticed that people are planning vacations to warm places etc. I always find myself a little put out when this comes up, since the same people are always making excuses for expenses and circumstances when we invite them to come visit us. I guess we aren't as exciting as tropical destinations but heck it sure makes me less than eager to go out of my way when I'm rationing out my seven night stay, know what I mean?

Is that petty? Probably, but hell when I've got seven days and 15 people to see, I'm happy to have delimiters for my schedules.

Home for a Rest

So check this: last night I dreamed that I was Anthony Bourdain's sous chef at Les Halles. You know, the restaurant where he's not even chef anymore. It was one of those dreams where I would partially wake up and then fall back into without missing a beat. Usually I only do that with crappy scary dreams, but last night it was like living a dream come true. Oh except for the part where it was just a friendly professional relationship not the hot dirty sexing relationship.

I guess I have become boring when my favourite dreams are now of me cooking, not me f-ing the brains out of my second line boytoys. Le sigh.

I imagine this all has to do with the fact that tonight is the season premier of No Reservations and that I've been waiting with bated breath. Or it could just be because I really like cooking. Who can tell?

In other food related news, I've eaten beef twice this holiday season and it didn't kill me. In fact, it didn't even make me feel too terribly. I like that, because, I have to admit, lately I've been all about the meat (dirty!). I've always felt so aggrieved when going to a restaurant and only being able to eat three things on the menu: salad, turkey burger, or salmon. Adding bacon earlier this year may not have been the best thing for my health, but g-darnit it's good for my tastebuds. If I can throw a steak on there now and again I may be in heaven.

OMG bacon wrapped steak!

happy nye

So we're off to see MSTRKRFT tonight for new year with a few friends.

This brings me to contemplate two things:
1) MSTRKRFT was the first "date" the architect and I had, really - we went for brunch and to the beach beforehand, but the night we went to see the two killer djs from mont-royal was the first time I introduced him to my friends and him me to his.
2) This evening we looked at each other and voiced, aloud, the fact that we've both been thinking that we are getting too old for this sheet - the staying out all night doing drugs etc etc. I mean, we'll probably always do it but chances are this is the last time for a long time. If it weren't for the fact that it's MSTRKRFT we'd probably be doing dinner with friends tonight instead of clubbing, for sure.

We're in such a better place from last year - literally and figuratively. We've got friends here (hell last night we had a bookswap and ended up with 30 people in our apartment. Apparently we're getting a reputation for throwing great parties); we've got a great apartment; we're better off financially; my work visa should be here any day and then we'll be golden... oh and then there's that whole married thing. When I think back to where I was 5 years ago, I never would have pictured myself here. I guess that's what's cool about life - you take the path that sparkles to you and who knows where it will lead?

Anyway, I just wanted to say Happy New Year to you all - the long time readers and the folks who have just ended up here by accident. I wouldn't have made it through some of the shit I've seen without you guys here listening to me blather on, and I appreciate it more than you will ever know.

xoxo
rasperrysundae

Study: Teenage 'virginity pledges' are ineffective

Subtitle: Youths who promise abstinence are also less likely to use protection

What, teenagers lie? And then make stupid choices? No! Can I get a Bristol Palin up in here? Speaking of, shouldn't she have popped out another red neck republican by now?

Ug I'm bored and I have a headache. You know when you are *SO* bored that you are beyond actually doing anything? Like when you used to follow your mom around whinging, and she'd suggest about a billion things for you to do (six hundred million of which involved some kind of chores or another) and NOTHING sounded good because you just couldn't shake the lethargy? Yeah that's how I feel.


In other news, I almost cut the top of my thumb off with my new knives the other night.
Good times. I'm just not used to moving so fast - the old fugly ikea knives I had kind of limited you b/c you could only chop so quickly. Not my pretty new globals, though - they went ripping through that concombre like nobodies' bidness. Oh and also my thumb, and thumbnail. Yay me!

All I want for

So for Christmas I received a starter set of Globals and a soon-to-be-brother-in-law (I think that goes down on record as the longest hyphenated word I've ever typed.) Both of these things are awesome.

It wasn't bad, you know - I mean, I missed my fam and my friends, but we had some really good friends over for xmas eve-eve, we had a great meal with the architect's fam on the Eve, and spent the day opening presents, chatting with my family via skype, and then drinking at a friend's place. Last night we headed home to chill and decompress and realized that we'd actually had a really nice holiday. I had only two moments of emotude: one when the kiddo opened his christmas eve gift over the phone with me and told me he missed me, and the next was a post-supernatural text from the sister saying that it wasn't the same without me. Damn those winchester boys.

happy christmas to all

OK so here we go - I'm off to the architect's family christmas eve dinner. I just talked to the kiddo for a minute on the phone as he opened his christmas eve prezzie (always a tree ornament; this year's zombie themed). I bawled my eyes out for a solid ten minutes upon hanging up the phone and may descend into blubbering idiocy momentarily. I really think the only way to get above the black cloud surrounding my head is to alight the alcohol fueled stairway to oblivion. Wish me luck, folks.


I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, and that all your hopes and dreams come true.

Merry merry
xo
raspberry sundae

I have

A belly full of harp beer and chips smothered in curry with mushrooms and faux meat.

This is a good thing.

That is all.

If Thursdays were like underpants

So now that we're officially not going home for the holidays, I'm trying to figure out what a SoCal Christmas looks like.

Metaphorically, dumbass - I know that the streets will be mostly empty except for legions of Family Trucksters loaded up with kids and gifts and reindeer sweater clad parents and that it will probably be warm and sunny (though you'd never know it considering the rain of the last few days) and that there will be lights and trees and the smell of turkey will resonate from beneath kitchen doors.

Metaphorically. Who will we see? Will we have fun? Will it be kinda sad and lonely?

I've started making some plans - we're having dinner xmas eve with the architect's aunt & uncle (will they let me bring tourtiere? I must!) and we have a pajama brunch planned for the day of. We've also started trying to figure out how to video conference present opening with the family back home.

The alternative plan is for me to drink till I pass out and spend the entire season in an alcoholic stupor. I have to tell you - right now I'm seriously leaning toward that option. Oh and I'm starting tonight. I am going to champagne happy hour with some folks.

I'm only happy when it rains

It's fricking pouring here today - like Vancouver style rain. While this is good - what with the drought and all - it also sucks because I've been spending the late morning / early afternoon coming to terms with the fact that I'm probably not going to get to go home for Christmas.

I mean, we have been entertaining the thought of renting a cabin on the US side of the border but fuck honestly it's beyond our means at this juncture. So, basically, I'm depressed as fuck today and trying to sort out what Christmas without the kiddo and my family will look like. The rain, while apropos, is not helping with the mood.

I know, I know - people are away from their families all the time for Christmas and it's all part of being a grown up blah blah blah. I'm just not looking forward to it, is all.

Apparently

I lost a follower. I had two, before, and now only one. Pity. I wonder who my follower is? Is it a weird creepy stalker kind of follower? Or an interesting fun friend type follower? Inquiring minds et al.


NK I really try not to think too deeply about my current situation in SD. I mean, for the most part it's pretty awesome: the architect is great, our apartment is cool, we've met some nice people. On the flip side, I have no job and no car, so my day-to-day activities are restricted to things I can do for under $10 and happen to also be in walking distance. I have a lot of fun acquaintances, but I wouldn't say that I've made any great close friends. Generally I don't speak to anyone all day long - I email back and forth with the sister and the architect, but that's about it. In fact, when people phone, I almost let it go to voicemail b/c I can't think of anything to say. I miss my friends and my family. I don't know if I'm going to get to go home for Christmas. These things weigh on me, even though I try and ponder life only one moment at a time.

Plus I gotta say - 23degrees with less than two weeks to Christmas is kind of weird for a girl who grew up jumping into snowbanks as tall as her house.

Ultimately, this was a good idea. I mean, the company I worked for is closing that office, so I'd have been out of work in short period of time anyway. The architect's job is so much more satisfying to him, and he has way better opportunities down here than he would have in vancity (recession notwithstanding). I'm just really worried that I'm becoming boring - that I'm losing who I am. At the same time, though, I'm not sure how to stop it.

If it's crowded all the better because we know we're going to be up late

Right now I'm pretty sure I would murder my cat (the backup cat, not the primary cat) for a mcdonalds breakfast - scrambled eggs, hashbrown, and those english muffins that manage to somehow be raw and burned all at the same time at the same time. Clearly it needs to be eaten thusly: hashbrown cut in half; half of the eggs placed on top of 1 side of english muffin; hashbrown half placed on top; liberal application of salt and pepper; bite/chew/swallow/nomnomnom.

Sadly, the only McDonalds in the area is a long walk away. Also, I'd have to go to the hospital because of the eggs and I'm pretty sure that if I'm going to eat eggs and spend a day and 2 grand in the hospital, those eggs should not be from mcdonalds.

So I'll suck it up and maybe microwave myself a yam & eat it with butter and salt and pepper. This way, at least, I can pretend that it's sort of good for me - all those antioxidants and whatnot.

I can guarantee you, though, that it won't be as good as mcdonalds' breakfasty goodness. Le sigh.