On the road, again

1. Fly from Halifax to Philadelphia. For 2.5 hours read Tempest Tost by Roberston Davies and laugh like a drain.

2. Wait in PHL for 45 min for your connecting flight to Seattle. Scarf down a salad with tuna but no dressing.  Lament this dearth of dressing. Wait in line for 10 minutes to purchase peanut M&Ms and yogurt covered blueberries, but abandon both when you hear your flight’s boarding has started.

3. Fly from Philly to Seattle. Sleep restlessly for most of the six hour flight. Eat a massive cinnamon bun, a bag of Chex Mix, and a very limited 100 calorie Pepperidge Farm cookie snack pack. Read more Robertson Davies. Doze.

4. Feel like a creeper, because as you try to look out the window – to watch the beautiful night lights as you descend into Seatac – you realize that you are leaning just a little too close to the man sitting to your left.

5. Exit the plane, and head straight for the Park N’ Fly pick-up station. Embrace the cold as it hits your recycled air drained skin. Breathe deeply.

6. Board the Park N’ Fly shuttle. Bounce along the highway until you reach the parking lot. Decide who will drive the first leg of the excursion home.

7. Pay for 9 days worth of car storage.

8. Settle into the passenger seat. Tell your love that even though it’s 11:30 at night, and you have quite a ways to go just to get home, it still feels like a grand adventure. Also let him know that you will switch as soon as he wants a break.

9. Get on the I-5.

10. Relish in the late-night beauty of it all. Talk little. Feel close.

11. Encounter fog. A lot of it.

12. Pull off for gas. Despair about the fact that the closed gas station doesn’t have a bathroom. Pee in the bushes. Fear that someone is either going to come grab you, or, alternatively, take damning photos of you squatting in the bushes.

13. Get back on the freeway.

14. Start to feel drowsy. Will yourself to stay awake for the sake of your husband. Laugh a little when he tells you that he wants to switch because he too is getting tired.

15. Suggest milkshakes. They will, of course, quell hunger pains, and provide a much needed sugar rush.

16. Feel elated by how excited your husband is about the idea of milkshakes.

17. Take the first exit with fast food signs. Pull into the Wendy’s parking lot. Switch positions, and then drive into the drive-thru. Order a chocolate frosty for you, and a caramel frosty shake for your husband. Wonder what’s the difference between a frosty and frosty shake. Pay.

18. Get back on the freeway. Understand quickly that frostys were not meant to be eaten through a straw. Really flex those sucking muscles.

19. Get to the border. Literally pull up to the first (and only) agent because no one else is there. Answer three questions. Keep driving.

20. Try not to speed like a demon now that you are in your home country and so, so close to your home home.

21. Make a left, and then a right. Push the garage door opener and pull into your parking spot. Grab all your luggage and garbage and head to your front door. Wonder if the Christmas lights have been on all week. Insert your key into the door and greet your adorable cat who is prancing about your feet. Drop everything, pick her up and smother her in pats and kisses.

22. Remark that the house is freezing.

23. Ascend the stairs to your bedroom, jump into the nearest pair of pajamas. Floss and brush your teeth. Realize you left your mouth guard back at your mother’s house.

24. Wash your face.

25. Crawl into an absolutely freezing cold bed. Feel your husband’s arms around you. Tell him that your hair smells like an airplane. Feel his whole body laugh. Smile.


All the world’s a stage

Hi friends.

I am so excited to be writing today’s post it’s a little silly.

So let’s just get right to it shall we?

Fry-up time!

Minty fresh.

On Tuesday I made mint pea soup and parmesan toast:

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Out here on the west coast, it has been raining like a raining thing and I find that once our days reach a certain level of murk, all I want to do is make (and eat) hot, healthy foods and curl up in front of the fire.

Hence the need to whip up a fresh batch of this glorious green concoction.

Now, whenever I eat/make pea soup, I always think about that scene at the beginning of The Rescuers Down Under (we’re talking high art here folks), where Bernard takes Bianca out for a really fancy dinner (with the express intention of proposing to her).

Side note: I will always stand by my opinion that The Rescuers – the original movie – was always the better movie of the two.

Anyway, the mice and all the other animals are actually dining in the chandelier of an incredibly well-to-do (human) restaurant. A pea falls off the plate of one of the human dishes, only to be promptly scooped up by one of the animal waiters (a very posh-looking grasshopper), who then slingshots it up to the animal kitchen.

There, a chef – also a grasshopper – takes the pea and turns it into soup.

Now, what made this short, but memorable scene so brilliant (to six year old me) is the way both of these characters exclaim “pea soup!” with such enthusiasm and hilarity.

And as a child I could never, ever, get enough of their enunciation and tone.

And to this day, it still cracks me up.

So of course, every time I sit down to a bowl I absolutely have to say “pea soup!” just like a posh grasshopper waiter-or-chef.

Seriously, check it out for yourself:

And believe me, once you start, you won’t stop.


Taking a stand.


I promised to post it as soon as I had the chance, and well, here it is!

My stand-up routine.


Full disclaimer – this video contains some not-so-safe for work language. I make a concerted effort to communicate in this here blog without any swears, but I must confess that when I get on stage they are much harder to contain.

I do so hope that you enjoy it.

p.s. My name is Vanessa Woznow. Erm…hi?

A good word.

One of my most-loved things to do in preparation for the holidays is purchase beautiful little cards and send them to all my family and friends.

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This year I chose gorgeous doves! And penguins sledding down a hill!

(This photo is also excellent evidence that I cannot keep myself away from sparkle – even in card form.)

Last night I prepared all of my cards for my rad work mates and for my family’s cousin Christmas card swap – a tradition born out of my grandfather’s passing five years ago.

He used to send us each a personalized card every December 25th, and we want to keep the memory alive by making sure we stay in touch over the holiday season.

What makes it even more special is that this year I will get to see so many of them in person.

And goodness knows I CANNOT WAIT.

(Double eep!)

So there you have it beauty cats.

Soup, comedy, and cards – the trifecta dominating my thoughts on these dark and dreary, and oh-so late autumn evenings.

I hope all of your weekends are filled with love, laughter, and light.

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Because goodness knows, Nymeria and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Like a monkey with a miniature symbol

Hey kidlets!

It’s once again time for another Friday Fry-up. So let’s not waste time mixing metaphors and just get this show on the road.

First on the docket?

Awesome reasons to eat cheese.

Glücklich (wenn auch spät) Schweizer Bundesfeie meine Freunde!

Yes, that’s right. Happy belated Swiss National Day.

Over here at chez-madhouse, we look forward to celebrating this holiday every year on August 1. It’s a chance to hang out with other Swiss nuts (aka M’s family), eat a ton of amazing cheese, drink sparkling wine, and make merry as the night is long.

So this past Wednesday we tuned up our alpen horns, practiced our Roger Federer one-handed backhands, and drove over for a feast of feasts with the rest of the gang.


Number two?

I think I’ve seen this all before.

So it’s not that I get déjà vu a lot, it’s more that the déjà vu that I do end up getting really knocks me for a loop – it is out-of-this-world BONKERS. I am literally struck silent (one might even say immobilized) by the feeling that everything that I am experiencing has already happened to me before.

And when I’m not living through this strange, quasi-out-of-body sensation, I’m just doing really silly things on repeat – over, and over, and over again.

(See: Hot Chip)

For instance, did you know that in Russian, the work for juice is cok? You see, c = s and k = c/k.

The confusion and embarrassment comes into play when even though you are THINKING in Russian, your brain is READING in English, and you end up saying “cok“ (and who are we kidding, if you say cok, nobody is thinking “oh, like Russian juice only mispronounced!“ and everybody is just thinking THAT GIRL JUST SAID WANG!!! BAHAHAHAHA!!!“.)

Which is bloody awkward as all get out.

Seriously, all throughout Russian 100 I’m fairly certain that I told 90% of my classmates that on the weekends I liked to drink vodka and cock.

Which is silly because I don’t EVER drink vodka, and the prospect of a vodka penis just makes the whole venture one hundred fold more unappealing.


Why are you telling this story lady? I bet many of you are thinking at this very moment.


Yesterday I was with my colleague J, and I asked her to accompany me to the kitchen so I could get a drink.

Unfortunately, I wavered between pop and coke, and so it came out: “I just want to grab a cock.“

And so it continues.

Seriously, how this is still happening to me, I will never know.

I can only blame it on the Russians.


Amazing YA fiction.

Have any of you cats read this book?

I just started it yesterday morning and I am about halfway through. It is absolutely awesome!

It’s driving me batty trying to figure out what exactly is going on – the plot is slowly unfolding but I feel as though I cannot trust any of the narration.

I am hooked. I implore you – ch-ch-ch-check it out.

As for us Canucks, we have a three day weekend to look forward to. Hopefully the sun will be shining like a shining thing. M and I are looking forward to hiking Mt. Seymour, and just spending as much time outside as possible. I have a really, really wicked foot tan shaping up, the likes of which I haven’t seen for a couple of years.

Wishing you all a fab time off, whatever it is you do.