To whom it may concern – Page 35

Keeping them in stitches

Big news sports fans!

I have been invited to perform a set at the upcoming Vancouver ComedyFest!

Oh. My. Goodness.

You might have guessed that I am more than a little excited.

But what else can I say? It’s only been two months since I started this journey to Stand-Upsville, USA (Stand-Upsville, Canada just doesn’t have the same ring to it) but every step has been simply tip top, candy shop.

To be completely blunt – getting up on that stage and telling jokes is pretty much the greatest adrenaline rush that I’ve ever known.

It’s interesting: I’ve written at length about the runners high that I’ve experienced, both on training runs and during races, but this sensation is something completely different.

Right before I go up on stage I get so cold that I can hardly stop myself from shaking like a mad shaking thing (imagine me as a Polaroid picture, if you will.)

My teeth chatter, my knees lock – I sometimes even lose partial circulation in a few of my fingers. Seriously, I never know if i’m going to turn to stone, or just pass out.

But after telling that first joke, and getting that first laugh, I might as well be flying ten thousand feet above the city, whizzing past cloudscapes, dodging meteor showers and shooting stars.

I go from living in a block of ice to feeling like every fiber of my being has been set alight, set on fire.

Simply put: it feels good. It feels like it fits.

Now, please don’t take this as me saying that I am some kind of professional or unstoppable hot shot. I full-on recognize that I am greener than the Jolly Green Giant’s left thumb and still have much to learn.

I’m just so happy that I finally got up the courage to take the plunge.

I mean, since my days as an absolutely barmy little girl I have always loved to make people laugh.

Some of my earliest memories are of sitting in a room – yammering on like a monkey in a tree – playing comedian for a group of adults and absolutely relishing in the attention.

I learned quickly that if I was smart and deft enough, I could get away with saying terrifically mad things, just as long as the end result was a solid guffaw (or guffaws.)

I might not have been born a drama queen, but I developed the sensibility at a very early age.

As a dreadfully self-conscious teenager, the only way I was going to get through my awkward high school years was to constantly crack jokes and make people laugh.

And now, my delightfully hilarious husband and I are in a constant battle of one-upmanship to see who can give the other person a laugh-induced hernia first.

Sometimes when I am working on bits, M and I jam on the joke together and I am literally left breathless (but also thinking HOLY SMOKES WE ARE DEFINITELY THE WEIRDEST COUPLE IN THE HISTORY OF COUPLES.)

I can only hope that my brand of humour has the same effect on the audiences for whom I perform (the breathless thing that is.) I really do try and present a show that is both funny, smart, and thought provoking. Seriously, for me, I like nothing more than a joke that makes me think, and makes me continue to think.

And this will never stop being my goal every time I set foot in front of a crowd, in front of a microphone.

Well, that and keeping my knees from knocking together too hard.

Because goodness knows, I bruise so very easily.

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.