January 2013 – Page 2 – Rant and Roll

Up in the clouds

We are currently in Exorcist central, out here on the west coast of BC.

The fog rolled in last Friday, and since then we’ve been completely socked in, up to our eyeballs in mysterious mist.

Every so often we are tantalized with a small sliver of blue sky, but before we have a chance to relish in its splendor, the fog rolls back in, engulfing us all.

Tonight M and I are wrapped in our comfiest clothes, sitting close the fire. He is doing work and I am reading one of the most brilliant, beautiful, and hilarious poignant pieces of YA I have ever read.

Please, please check out: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie.

You will not regret it.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in gloom:

Dinner parties.

Nerd nights.

Roses.

Winter walks.

Cat.

What did each one of you get up to for the weekend?

I want to hear all about it, as I wait for this fog to lift.

Making it all bearable

Hey kids.

First off – LOOK AT HOW BEAUTIFUL THE SKY IS GOOD GRIEF IT KILLS ME.

Seriously, I near but froze my toes off, tip-toeing around my balcony yesterday morning trying to get these shots.

But are they not oh-so worth it?

And then, because I’m one who can never just leave well enough alone, I had to take a second round of shots as I walked to the metro (plus one final snap when I arrived at the skytrain station.)

Honestly, I’m surprised that I don’t catch more people taking snaps of the sunrise. I mean, am I the only sap left in the world who’s moved by this kind of thing?

Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that I was some kind of high-flying migratory bird, or climatologist, or Greek god in one (or all of) my previous lives, what with how pathologically OBSESSED I am with the sky.

P.S I’m calling dibs on Athena, here and now and NO SWAPSIES ALLOWED! That badass gal is my homegirl through and through, ya dig?

Anywho, I can only hope that we continue to have good weather so I can carry on getting all shirty over cloud striations, and the way the early-morning horizon looks like a giant space toddler’s blue and orange finger painting project.

(p.s. I think I’ve been reading too much Drew Magary, hence the current love affair with CAPS LOCK. Do not be alarmed. As with all crushes before it – both written and otherwise – this too soon shall pass.)

In the interim, fry up time!

All that glitters is not gold.

So my fabitty fab sister in-law Vanessa is engaged to be married, and her wedding day is coming up daisies (or within the calendar year if you will). As such, she is on the hunt for a gown in which she will be fit to wed her dearly betrothed.

Now, I love weddings like the wedding-mad fool that I am, so I readily agreed to accompany her shopping the second that she asked. We spent last Saturday afternoon together, along with my mother in-law (or CAPTAIN C as I like to refer to her), visiting the various shops that line downtown New Westminster, perusing their incredibly diverse wares.

Now, my sis is a lady of discerning taste, and to say that there were some stores that didn’t quit fit the bill is a bit of an understatement.

For instance, I managed to covertly snap this picture of one of the prom dresses available for purchase at one of the shops:

WHO?

WHY?

HOW?

I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY SOMEONE WOULD MAKE A DRESS OUT OF THE SAME MATERIAL USED TO CREATE THE SPACE SHUTTLE.

Seriously, somewhere out there Rumpelstiltskin just rolled over in his grave.

(Also, that pink number isn’t anything to write home about either.)

Needless to say, we didn’t last long in that shop, and quickly moved on to a store where everything Ms. V tried on brought tears of happiness and joy to my eyes (and not, you know, a panic attack.)

Different strokes and all that, but my capacity for completely gaudy get-ups is limited, especially outside the confines of an H&M dressing room.

NEXT!

To a Tee.

Remember when I wrote about how awesome my little sister’s butcher shop is?

Well, check out these smashing Highland Drive t-shirts HOT OFF THE PRESSES:

Don’t you want one?

I have already placed an order for both M and myself, so you should probably think about procuring some of your own. All the cool kids are doing it!

Find out how you can get your mitts on these sweet things by following my wicked sister on the FACEBOOKS HERE.

(And while you’re there, you should probably stop by Ye Olde Rant and Roll and like that too. SHAMELESS PLUG Y’ALL.)

Techno queen.

Sometimes I feel as though I am overrun by gadgets.

(This overwhelming sensation definitely played a leading role in what kept me from getting a cell phone for so long.)

I mean, I go to work and sit at a compute – writing, reading, researching, blogging, tweeting, facebooking, e-mailing, scheduling, etc., etc.

Then I come home and use my laptop or tablet, like some Asimov inspired cyborg.

And it is because of this that I make such a concerted effort to make sure that I unplug at every available opportunity. I read like a reading thing as much as I can, go for walks with my husband, take endless photos of my cat (and the sky), cook, listen to the radio (what would I do without the CBC!?), talk on the phone with my far-away loved ones (ACK! I have just realized that most of these things are gadget related!), or just sit and think my madcap thoughts, all alone and on my own.

However, on this last point I really need to get better at “just being.”

Growing up, we used to always call it “bear by yourself” time. I want to re-learn how to be bear by myself.

…

That’s all she wrote this Friday my loves.

Wishing you all a very fabulous weekend, whether it is adventure filled or quietly serene!

Take each moment, and enjoy.

Looking forward with a turn of phrase

Dear world:

Can we please bring back “heavens to murgatroyd!”?

BECAUSE THIS IS THE BEST TURN OF PHRASE IN THE HISTORY OF TURNS OF PHRASES.

Please also see: “really cleaned his clock!” and “you’ll end up in the drink!” and “egads!”

(Also “gadzooks!”, “rats!”, and “what a way to run a railroad!”)

Because, for serious, my life is infinitely better anytime I either manage to fit them into a regular conversation, or overhear someone use them while out and about on regular business.

Please picture me wearing a really fab hat while out on said business.

419230_10152088280125179_1372221209_n (1) — Wash it with borax? Gee whiz, I’ll have to ask…

I’m pretty partial to old timey language as is, and I would really appreciate that instead of just recycling HORRIBLE FASHION FROM THE 80s and 90s, we could start using some of the awesome slang that came about during roaring twenties, or better yet, the dirty thirties.

What do you say?

I’d like to see this trend take hold like a duck to water.

(Is this too much? I’ll stop if it’s too much.)

EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THAT I CANNOT STOP.

I mean, I’m just too big a fan.

Take for instance, the “we got on like [insert verb/noun combo here]” descriptors.

Ie.) Gangbusters, house on fire, a barrel of monkeys, etc.

I mean, how can you not love these? Although I’m not even sure that any of them even remotely make sense.

Also, is a barrel of monkeys a good thing? That just sounds violent and deafening to me.

And do I even want to know the etymology behind these sayings?

Kind of yes, but mostly no.

I’ll just end up finding out that everything I’ve written about has some bloody awful origin and is completely offensive to ninety-nine per cent of the earth’s inhabitants.

On second thought, I should probably bite the bullet and make sure I am in fact riding the PC train straight to onsideville every time I break out my oldisms.

Right?

Right.

Okay, so you might have guessed it already, but I’m a little tired. The past couple of weeks have been so incredibly jam packed that I’m feeling a tad run down (aka completely exhaustified.)

I’m sitting here on our couch, wrapped in many blankets and the ends of my eyelids are starting to feel as though they’ve been weighted down by miniscule sacks filled with what I’m apt to believe is magic sleep dust.

(I was going to write flour at first, but then what the heck would flour sacks be doing balancing precariously at the ends of my eyelashes?)

I think I might just call it an early night and head upstairs to hit the hay.

Bedtime before ten o’clock on a school night?

Zounds!

But to bed I must, so zoiks and away!

Join the club

Happy Monday you beauty cats.

Look what happened today!

And tonight!

Also, around these here parts we’ve recently taken our first steps into official internet MEMEbership.

If you like Lord of the Rings and Arrested Development as much as we do, I sure hope you like this little piece of M’s and my handiwork:

Goodness gracious.

In the meantime, we’ll will be doing a little of this:

And I wish for you all nothing but this:

Strap on those snow boots! A very, merry week to you all.

All the colours of the rainbow

Hey gang.

Do you ever wake up in the morning and feel the urge to dress like Amélie?

I do.

So this past Wednesday I put together this little outfit:

I snapped this photo whilst out on a walk-around of Forever XXI’s latest megaplex, a monstrosity currently talking up a huge chunk of (incredibly valuable) downtown Vancouver real estate.

FYI – upon dressing myself this way, I had no choice but to help a blind man make his way to the metro station, all the while whispering in his ear, describing all the comings and goings of the busy streets we travelled.

Okay.

So that actually didn’t happen.

Ho hum, pigs, bum.

Anywho, I only found myself at Forever XXI because I had a lunchtime hankering for some dressing room mischief, and I had arrived with the express intention of trying on absolutely bonkers clothing.

However, this plan fell by the wayside pretty quickly, as upon my entrance to the store I was greeted by a number of darling dresses, and I realized that I would much rather try on a bunch of adorable pieces than wreck myself laughing over a completely crackers floral jumpsuit.

(But only just.)

I scampered about, scooping up a few things here and there, and eventually purchased two dresses, of which the following is one:

I actually wore this dress last night at my stand-up show, along with a black and gold sweater, and brown scarf.

I like to think that I looked like the most beautiful bruise in the world.

And guess what! I’ve been booked into doing two more shows this month, so I’ll be jamming tonight AND on the twenty-fifth. Meep.

Even cooler? These are both Friday shows, which I can only surmise to be proof of the fact that I’m moving on up in the comedy world.

Oh baby.

So in honour of Friday awesomeness, let’s get this fry-on on the stove.

Colour me surprised.

So I was loitering about Sephora like the creeper that I am (okay, I was actually just using the store as a short-cut on my way back to work from lunch) when I saw this:

HOW TERRIBLE IS THIS – I CAN’T EVEN.

Thirty new shades you say?

Why, how utterly generous of you Clinique!

I mean, had I been in charge of this campaign I would probably have gone even bigger and marketed the whole thing as: “Fifty shades of beige!”

Good grief.

I mean, first, how many different variations of white can a company possibly make?

Maybe Clinique should spend some of their research and development dollars on creating a product (or, you know, products) geared toward the myriad of women out there whose skin tone doesn’t fall under the general category of “eggshell.”

Canada is pretty darn multicultural. The concept of diversity (and the fact that when diversity exists it should not be ignored) isn’t that hard to understand.

If anything, advertisers should be interested in providing a diverse, inclusive product, seeing as though it’s pretty common knowledge that the larger client basis a company appeals to, the larger their revenue.

Honestly, I totally get the creeps when confronted with this kind of crap – like when I see nylons or pantyhose (PS I HATE THIS WORD SO MUCH) labelled “flesh tone.”

Flesh tone for WHO?

I tells ya – white privilege. Coming to a store near you.

Next!

Feeling crepey.

Sunday morning, post-rain soaked run breakfast of strawberry Nutella crepes and coconut water.

NUFF SAID.

Bergman chic.

I took a photo of this sweater in H&M the other day because this style will never stop making me laugh.

I believe Noel Fielding put it best, when, wearing a sweater very similar to the one above, he said that he looked like a 1970s Swedish film director.

And I will never stop thinking otherwise.

Also, if you are unacquainted with the absolute madness of Mr. Fielding, I would recommend introducing yourself as soon as possible.

Maybe start out with a little Never Mind the Buzzcocks, then make your way over to the IT Crowd, and then finish off with The Mighty Boosh.

Disclaimer: the latter show is totally nuts, so if you don’t like anything as odd as Kids in the Hall, this might not be the stuff for you. Just stick to Buzzcocks and IT Crowd.

…

So that’s all she wrote, you beauty cats you.

The west coast weekend weather is supposed to be off the charts brilliance-wise.

I wish you all the same, and more.

Always, always more.