So what else has been brewing on this side of the cosmic kitchen?
You mean, besides nursing my body back to its natural flesh tone (and away from its current black and blue hue)?
Well, look no further!
In the words of Bruce McCulloch – Check it out!
(Can you dig it?)
Trips to berry farms.
I did two out of three (the winery was not yet open for the year.)
Faffing around with fake doors.
Knock, knock.
I seriously love fake doors.
Acting like they are real doors? CRACKS ME RIGHT UP.
Also, this photo was taken on Sunday post-race and I am actually amazed that I managed to move my arms that far over my head.
TREATS TREATS TREATS.
On days that I am recovering from massive physical exertion, this is pretty much the only thing I want to eat, EVER:
Blueberry popcorn and chocolate covered pretzels.
Or perhaps this:
Confetti cake blizzard. Yes please.
If you live in the GVRD, love cake and ice cream, and haven’t tried this, I urge you to leave whatever you are currently doing, race to the closet DQ and give it a try.
It will not disappoint.
It will delight.
Adorable animals.
Baby goat!
Baby black and white goat!
It is hard to describe how cute this little guy was. He was also incredibly perturbed that his mother was on top of the bench, and that he was unable to join her.
No word of a lie,*I had him in my purse and was half way to the car when I realized my plan wasn’t the best thought out.
I don’t think Nymeria is quite ready for a roommate, especially one so vocal as Mr. Black Shoes.
(Yes. That is the name I gave him while he was briefly in my custody.**)
*This IS the biggest lie ever.
**Joke! – please don’t phone the SPCA on me.
And of course:
Patios.
I don’t know about you cats, but as soon as the warm weather actually sticks around, I plan on spending the rest of my summer sitting on one of these.
In the meantime, Mr. M and I are headed down the Oregon coast for six days of anniversary celebrating, camping, Shakespeare, hiking, eating, drinking, laughing (like loons), and just general revelry.
I cannot wait!
And what about you, dear ladies and gents?
What is coming down the pipe for you these days?
Grab a handful of blue popped corn and tell me all about it.
It’s time for another installment of the Friday Fry-Up. But first, before we get into the meat of the matter, I need to ask you all one question:
What fresh hell is going on around these here parts temperature-wise?
It is ruddy freezing!
I mean, here I am, it’s June, and I am sitting in front of my fireplace, and it has a bloody fire in it.
A fire!
In JUNE!
What. The. Eff.
Anywho, strange things are a-brewing, and until the wind changes I suppose we’re continuing on course for more madness and foul weather.
So let’s solider on!
First on the docket:
Awful doughnuts.
Yesterday, after eating a super healthy lunch, I went and bought five timbits from ye old church of Canadiana (aka Tim Hortons) – because noting tastes better after a cracking salad like those sweet little glazed balls of heaven.
I got in line with the six hundred and ninety-two other crazed patrons and waited to have my order taken. After waiting roughly twelve years, I reached the front of the cue and placed my bets.
Er.
Placed my order.
I asked for two honey cruller, two sour cream glazed, and one chocolate glazed.
(Urg, I never know why I bother ordering that solitary chocolate timbit because it is never, ever tastes all that great. Slightly stale and just…missing something.)
The first two however are far and away the two top offerings available at ole’ Timmy Hos – seriously, take my word for it, I am a card-carrying timbit connoisseur.
Here is the honey cruller:
Nom.
It was dee-lish.
However, I was pretty disappointed when I bit into the other donut hole because low and behold it was not my beloved sour cream but old fashioned glazed.
Blech.
YUCKAMUNDO.
That crap tastes like bread soaked in expired dish soap.
DO NOT WANT.
(Full disclosure – obviously I’ve never eaten a Sunlight saturated baguette before – so don’t get any ideas! It’s a simile you smug bastards.)
And it was a bummer!
So all in all, out of five treats, I had three, but only enjoyed two. This is not exactly world-destroying events here, but like I said, I feel as though the universe is subtly letting me know that things aren’t exactly in balance these days.
Second on the docket:
Joe Fresh Fashion.
Now normally I am a pretty big proponent of Mr. Fresh and the clothing for sale at his establishments. I’ve bought some terrific stuff that I continue to enjoy, both for work and pleasure. However, if you visit one of his stores at the moment you might be surprised to see an overabundance of bat-shit weird, weird stuff.
Like this Finnish flag inspired shirt:
KOIVU!
Or this “Is it clothing, or a walking magic eye puzzle?” dress:
It’s always some stupid sailboat.
Or this neon orange disco suit:
I – I just don’t know anymore.
(I also think that they were implying that you would wear the suit with the paisley green collared shirt.)
Seriously, at what LSD binge were these pieces not only designed, but then sewed together as utterly wacko separates!?
Also, can we mayhaps make an effort to stick to one decade to “bring back” at a time? I was one to believe that we are currently experiencing a resurgence of 90s nostalgia, so let’s keep the 70s and 80s at bay for the next little while – at the very least (we don’t need to bring them back at all, if that option is still available.)
Speaking of which – PEPLUM.
Guys.
No.
Just no.
They are hip flaps.
They are Malibu Barbie.
They are winged menstrual pads, designed as a dress.
They are no.
Just yell no like you mean it, and then just run away!
NO!
Moving on.
Third on the docket.
The Cranberries.
Speaking of flashbacks, the other day I was getting ready for work, listening to CBC radio 2 as I am often wont to do in the am. As I stepped out of the shower, I caught the very tail end of the song “Dreams” and I had a very affecting flashback to the day I finished grade five and I heard the group’s song “Zombie” for the ever first time.
Man, I loved that song.
(Is it just me, or did music – for the most part – mean a hell of a lot more in the 90s than it does now?)
I remember taping (!!!) that song off of the radio and listening to it on repeat for hours and hours and hours.
I always laugh to think of myself as the crazy tall, gangly awkward nerd who would half walk, half dance around singing Soundgarden, and Pink Floyd around the school hallways.
I remember discovering Smashing Pumpking in grade four. I heard “Today” being played from my sister’s bedroom while practicing highland dancing in my basement.
In grade six I saw the music video for Beck’s Loser. Kind of weirded out, but also really intrigued, I asked my friends if they would buy me the CD for my upcoming birthday. They did, and it was AWESOME.
In grade seven, sitting in Mr. Bell’s English class, Simon Eisler played Weezer’s Buddy Holly for our “Song as Poem” class project. I rushed home, found my sister’s Weezer CD and listened to the song on repeat for probably the next three years.
Maybe music didn’t necessary mean more in the 90s on the whole – perhaps it just meant more to me. Individually.
Hmmm.
Stuff to ponder as we head into a rain soaked weekend!
What are you favourite doughnut flavours? Do you like Joe Fresh? And what are your strongest music memories?
It has been a complete and utter madhouse around these parts of late. I cannot remember the last time I cooked something, let alone slept the entire night through.
After a fourteen and a half hour work day on Saturday (a huge shout-out must go to my partner-in-crime Ms. J who was there with me the entire time and without whom I would have lost my mind long, long ago), I am finally done one of the longest, most taxing projects I have ever undertaken in my entire life.
And in just six short months, we get to start working towards next year’s event!
EEP.
(We will cross that bridge when we come to it, and not a moment sooner!)
Today at work I scheduled in the rest of my deadlines that must be met before the end of the month.
I cannot wait to have everything finito, because in twenty-six short days, Mr. M and I will be basking in our sweet, sweet suite in Downtown Seattle before jetting off for five days of beach camping and Shakespeare acting in the wilds of Oregon.
Thank fresh hell it will all be over soon. I work bloody hard, (and I like it that way) but it is now time to play!
And play we will.
Other good things on the horizon include multiple family visits (and more time off) in July and August, Tough Mudder at the end of this month, Franz Ferdinand, Hot Chip, plans to run the Victoria half-marathon (I am still contemplating the marathon – we will see) over the Thanksgiving long weekend, dress-up parties, picnics, general merriment and awe.
What are all of your plans for the next couple of months? I’d love to hear all about your summer stories.
Up here in the Great White North (GWN) it’s the Victoria day long-weekend. You see, us Canadians have never been able to fully quit the British monarchy, and as such, the Queen’s mug is plastered all over our currency, we get to compete in the Commonwealth games, and we are gifted an extra day off every year, always around this time.
I’m no fan of the English royal family by any stretch, but when it comes to statutory holidays, I’ll take it.
Tomorrow is Mr. M’s birthday and we will be up to many a shenanigan to celebrate this auspicious occasion.
I am so excited to give him his gift, I’ve been asking him almost everyday for a week if he wants to open it early.
(I’m really crap at waiting for others to open their presents. Usually I try to coerce them into doing so immediately after I have purchased the gift. Seriously I am the absolute worst. I don’t know how many times I’ve bullied M into opening things before the actual occasion. In my defense, I’m just going to state that can get really excited, okay?)
This time however, he’s fought back hard, so it will be tomorrow morning that he’ll finally get to see what I got him.
In the meantime, we’ve been out and about all day soaking up the sunshine.
This morning after we completed our compulsory tough mudder training, we glammed ourselves up and walked down to the quay for some brunch time crepes.
Phew, and what a week it has been. Thirteen hour days, volunteer gigs, tears, runs, blisters, beauty cats – and heading into next week, I’m just going to do it all over again.
Do what exactly, you may ask?
The same thing we do every night Pinky…try to take over the world!!!
Because it’s the end of the week, and I am so very excited for the (long!) weekend, I figured it was time to bring back the ol’ Friday Fry-up.
First on the docket:
Street food.
Simply put, I cannot get enough. Although I really try to bring my lunch every day to work, there is only so many days a girl can survive on nutella-almond butter sandwiches (this week was a little bleak in terms of foodstuffs available at the homestead. I am glad to report, however, that to balance this out I ate oatmeal everyday for breakfast, as well as at least two fruits over the course of the work day.)
I wrote earlier about all the great new joints popping up around the downtown core, and it’s nice to try out a different one every now and then.
But there are some days where the only thing I can think about is getting my little mitts on a tofu hotdog, slathered in fried onions, bbq sauce, ketchup, and mustard.
And today, my darlings, was one of those exact days.
I needed to get out of the office, stretch my legs, and spend some time in the sunshine, all alone – on my own.
I walked over to the law courts, purchased my dog, and sat down in my own little sun-soaked spot.
Nom.
Bliss.
Also, it is weird that as much as I love the hotdog itself, my favourite part of this meal is the two last bites – bites that are nothing save for the bun, the onions, and the condiments (that have all mixed together to form a orangey-yellow super sauce?)
Da best part.
Or is that just me?
Either way, it was fab. And amazingly enough, I didn’t spill a drop on my dress.
Look ma! No dry cleaning bill!
Second on the docket:
These ads from Aldo.
Barf.
First, let me preface this by saying that I pretty much despise Aldo and never shop there. Their shoes are totally overpriced, and the quality absolute shite.
Plus there is nothing remarkable about the styles they offer. Everything is boring and bland.
So when I see something like this, well, don’t colour me surprised:
Double barf.
Colour me bored and scornful.
Aren’t we over this trope already, or what?
I mean, if we’re going to keep pumping out ridiculous and sexist advertising campaigns, can’t we get something a little original?
For heaven’s sake, just have a vagina wearing the shoes (hell, have a vagina eating a popsiclewearing the shoes, for all I care) and get it over with.
Because the whole banana/iced treat as phallic symbol is old as dirt and twice as stupid.
(Or, you know, if you want to be totally off the charts risqué, just rely on quality products to increase sales, and have your marketing campaign revolve around your merchandise – a radical thought, I know.)
In the meantime, I won’t hold my breath.
Third on the docket:
I CANNOT stop buying clothes.
Okay, that’s a big of an overstatement. I’m not exactly out on a bender, slinking about outlet malls and breaking open my bank account.
However, over the last month I’ve purchased two dresses!
TWO!
Good grief. That’s one less than I purchased all of last year.
Just typing these words, I feel as though I need qualify and explain how cheap the items were, but then another part of me starts shouting WHO CARES STOP IT YOU WORK HARD ENJOY IT LOVE IT.
Today at lunch I ventured to H&M (holy crappola, this place is like my fricken Brokeback Mountain – for serious, WHY CAN’T I QUIT YOU!?) and tried on a couple of dresses.
I feel as though these past few days I’ve been oscillating wildly back and forth between über feminine and über masculine looks. For instance, yesterday I work skinny-legged men’s dress pants, a man’s sweater, collared shirt and tie, and today I wore this:
And then I tried on this:
Jewel tones FTW.
Which actually has a ridiculously cute bow on the right shoulder:
Bow!
And then I tried on this:
Love me some spots.
Dudes. It’s a lady-bug dress!!
(Okay, not really. But that’s what it makes me feel like.)
In the end, I wound up purchasing both, but got the first one in black.
(For a very, very low – combined – price.)
STOP IT ETHEL! MOVE ON.
So there you have it folks: Food, fashion, and fallacies (otherwise known as the world of advertising.)
What are your favourite street foods? Have you bought yourself anything nice of late?
Put your feet up, pour yourself a cold drink, and tell me all about it.
Rant and Roll 