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Happy Monday you beauty cats.

Look what happened today!

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And tonight!

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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:

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Goodness gracious.

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

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And I wish for you all nothing but this:

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

Love is all around me

Hi kitty cats!

My lovely man snapped this bonkers photo of me late Saturday night (actually now that I think about it, it was more like early Sunday morning) after returning home from two shindigs with our lovely friends.

I shouted down from upstairs that I needed him to take a photo of my skirt and as I raced downstairs this is what happened:

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I kind of love it.

Almost as much as I love this skirt.

Either way, ho hum, pigs bum.

And elsewhere in the cosmic kitchen –

Kitten love.

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Fondue festivities.

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All the noms were enjoyed in this photo. Oh yes.

Also, in cool news on the comedy front, I was invited to perform at an open mic in Surrey on Sunday night (and I did it! HUZZAH!)

This turned out to be excellent fun times. I brought a rad posse of bad-ass friends to keep me company, as I was a little nervous about being the only girl comic there – as I imagine this position to be one with some inherent loneliness.

I can only imagine how nuts it would have been had I showed up and just proceeded to read some Brothers Karamazov while waiting to do my set.

Actually, I kind of want to do that next time just to see the reaction.

Good grief.

I am also going to be performing at a Pro-Am show on December 20th.

Meep.

So things are happening! Funny things are happening!

In the meantime, I am actually dead alive on my feet after a weekend of madcappery and brilliance.

On Friday night I met up with a fab friend for a post-work drink, and goodness gracious was that ever a laugh and a half.

Seriously dudes, when I say that all the laughs were belong to us, THIS IS NO JOKE.

We also might be clinically insane.

As I rode skytrain home I kept trying to read my book but couldn’t because I just kept giggling like a bloody loon. People were looking at me like I was absolutely mad.

(Not a heck of a lot different from my everyday experience, but hey, at least I’m always enjoying myself, right?)

When I got home M had prepared for us an amazing fondue feast and we gorged ourselves on gruyere before retiring to our newly transformed Christmas den (aka living room) to watch Love Actually and drink scotch (him) and tea (me.)

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Don’t think I’ll ever be able to do the scotch thing, but it seems as though Mr. M is turning into el suavo extraordinaire.

Such a total, total, stud.

The rest of the weekend was a whirlwind of parties, runs, cleaning sprees, gift shopping, and catch-up brunches (are there any other kind?)

Goodness I hope not.

What did you all get up to this weekend?

I want to hear all about it.

(And that’s no joke.)

Give cheese a chance

So on Monday I wrote about a few things that I have tried to bring into my life, that despite my most valiant efforts, remain firmly entrenched in the lonely city of No Way Jose, and far away from my day-to-day routine.

(Simply put, I cannot like them no matter how hard I try.)

La belle Suisse!

In response to said post, I received a pretty hilarious phone call from my father-in-law, who (being Swiss) was pretty darn unimpressed to read about my general (and enduring) distaste for soft cheeses.

“Argh!” He exclaimed. “I was so disappointed reading your last blog post. I cannot believe you don’t like soft cheese.”

“Don’t give me too much grief!” I responded. “I already know that people are judging me!”

“Well it’s obvious you’re just not eating the right kinds of soft cheeses…” he trailed off. “And that is just going to have to change!”

I sensed there to be plan a foot. (Seriously I could practically hear the cogs and wheels in his head turning at break neck speed – although not said aloud, it was pretty apparent that reading my words had awoken some kind of nationalistic need to bring me over to the dark side, dairy-wise.)

E (or Darth Gruyere as I have come to know him) is a man who really knows, and really loves his cheeses. I’m pretty sure at any given time, you could open his fridge and find at (the very least) four different kinds of cheese (and that’s not even counting those so-called “soy cheeses”) two of which would without a doubt originate in the motherland, or you know – Switzerland.

Add to the mix a good loaf of bread, some landjäger, and some Lindt chocolate for dessert, ship him off to a cabin in the alps, where he could hike and canoe at his leisure, and well, I’m not sure he’d need anything else for the rest of his days.

(On second thought I’m pretty sure he’d want to include the components for a rocking good salad, to the above mentioned foodstuffs. Because as awesome as I imagine a life-long supply of bread, cheese, and meat could be, one would eventually require some roughage – would they not? Plus he makes a darn good vinaigrette. Also, my mother-in-law is pretty much head constable of the vegetable police and wouldn’t like the idea of spending forever sans garden candy.)

Seriously, no she wouldn’t like that one bit.

For reals. If you run into her, ask her about GOMBS – it’ll give you super-immunity and phenomenal badminton skills.

Anywho, on the topic of cheese, last night Mr. M and I had a fabulous fondue, made from raclette, white wine, a touch of brandy, nutmeg and a pinch of salt.

NOMNOMNOM

We dipped fresh French bread and pink lady apples into this sweet, smooth, melted madness – it was decadent and filling in the extreme.

After dinner we watched Canada’s Handyman (or woman, or woman) Challenge and completed New York Times’ crosswords; ate heart cookies and lemon bars; drank tea and enjoyed the fire.

Nymeria chose to contemplate her life, staring intensely into the flickering flames. Either she’s finally figured out a way to take over the world, or she’s solved cold fusion.

Same thing as I do every night Pinky...

I’ll keep you posted.

Between the food, the fire, and our funny, funny conversations I was pretty much knocked off my feet by 9:30. It makes me laugh to think of a Valentine’s when you cannot even keep your eyes open past ten o’clock at night – next year I’ll ask for one of those walk-in bathtubs.

Nothing says romance like sitting in your private, old-lady baignoire waiting for your water to drain so you don’t flood the entire floor.

If the ins and outs of plumbing, or just bathroom apparatuses in general aren’t your bag, here are my four of my favourite movies about “love” (this word can be interpreted in many different ways) that are hilarious, moving, and overall brilliant.

1. Rushmore

“Maybe I’m spending too much of my time starting up clubs and putting on plays. I should probably be trying harder to score chicks.”

2. Forgetting Sarah Marshall

“Dwayne told me. Chuck told me. Even Rachel told me. I heard about it from everybody. You gotta stop talking about it. It’s like “the Sopranos.” It’s *over*. Find a new show.”

3.Four Weddings and Funeral

“A toast before we go into battle. True love. In whatever shape or form it may come. May we all in our dotage be proud to say, “I was adored once too.”

4. Annie Hall

“A relationship, I think, is like a shark. You know? It has to constantly move forward or it dies. And I think what we got on our hands is a dead shark.”

So what about you folks? What movies make you laugh, at love, or otherwise?

Or more importantly, what cheese, amongst other rations would you need to survive a lifetime living in the wilds of the Matterhorn?