Photos – Page 6 – Rant and Roll

Get me a vodka rocks. And a piece of toast.

When my life becomes overwhelming, it can be hard for me to remember how much beauty exists the entire world over.

The past few weeks have been completely nutty, and in order to balance out the manic with the marvelous, I have been reading like a reading thing, running like a running thing, and writing like a writing thing.

Because goodness knows how important it is to see the forest for the trees.

I’m currently racing through The Ladies of Grace Adieu by Susanna Clarke.

It’s fabulous, and brilliant, and heartwarming, and filled with the sweet magic (literally) that makes my little heart smile.

Here are a few other things that on this Friday, are bringing me heaps and heaps of love:

There is always money in the banana stand.

ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT THIS SUNDAY!

I think I just blue myself.

Now, I know that everyone has their preferred AD characters, but Lucille is my favourite hands down.

Well, the epic combination of her and Buster.

Seriously, while I love the entire family, nothing will ever make me laugh as hard as the incredibly strange, yet side-splitting relationship between the Bluth matriarch and her one-handed son.

Someone get me a subscription to Balboa Bay Window, stat.

Bonus video – Thomas Mulcair (leader of the New Democratic Party, and Canada’s Official Opposition) quoting the show in Parliament:

Sleepy head.

I mean, how could you not?

Sometimes I just bury my head in Nymeria’s fur and take giant breath after giant breath.

I call it “cat huffing.”

…

LOOK – I NEVER SAID I WAS SANE DID I?

Patio fever.

Sunny, summer-tinged mornings, eating outside with my little bird friends?

I want to do this every day of my life.

…

Other things in which I am taking comfort these days –

Skype calls with my fam.

New perfumes.

Fish tacos.

Chocolate-chili cookies.

Wind-swept walks.

Falling asleep to the sound of the late-night rain.

Early-morning kisses.

It’s bliss.

Just bliss.

And soon enough, things will be back to normal (whatever “normal” means anyway), and this frenetic pace will slow.

Either way, however, I will continue to bask in the beauty of it all.

Because just like life, it truly is overwhelming.

Cat in a backpack

How I found her:

Nuff said.

You must be joking

Some snaps from around the pond of late:

Animals.

Begbie, a nine week old Boston terrier puppy, chewing on my coat.

The beauty cat, surveying her territory.

Food.

Rocky road cupcakes.

Sushisushisushi.

Cappuccino and apricot torte.
Performing.

On stage at the Rio Theatre last Friday night.

…

So.

Remember when I told you last month about that contest that I won, and how I had moved on to the finals being held this month?

Well, I ended up winning the finals!

They were held last Friday, and I took home first prize, and $500! Amaaaaazing!

I pretty much have the BEST FRIENDS OF LIFE, many of whom came out and cheered me on, which means the absolute world to me. I’m just happy that I could put on a good show – for not only them, but for everyone!

So buckle up kids, because I really feel like this train is leaving the station.

WOOT WOOT.

Anybody hear that? I’m fairly alarmed here

Hey dudes!

I don’t know about where you live, but it’s raining like a raining thing out here on the west coast of BC.

Normally this isn’t something to really gripe about (what with it being my choice to live smack dab in the middle of a temperate rainforest an all) but come this Sunday I will be running 21.1 kilometers (13.1 miles for all you lovely Yanks/Brits out there) and I would prefer to do so sans soaked running shoes.

(Sans soaked shoes and/or any garment really.)

It’s not that I don’t like running in the rain, I just always imagine it being so much more romantic than it actually proves to be.

And for that, I blame Four Weddings and a Funeral.

“Is it raining? … I hadn’t noticed…”

NO ONE BELIEVES YOU ANDIE MACDOWELL.

NO ONE.

Okay, let’s get back on track.

And what better way to do this than with one of my favourite blog posts:

THE FRIDAY FRY-UP.

Hold on to your butts.

YOU GUYS.

Jurassic Park is back in theatres!

HECK YES.

Let’s take a quick walk down memory lane shall we?

1993. Age 8. Summer. Vacationing in Calgary. Staying with my mum’s friend Claire. She has twin girls who are 10, and a boy who is 12.

We all get along like gangbusters.

Are we going to go see this movie?

OF COURSE WE ARE.

If I remember correctly, I talked my way into permission by telling Claire that this film would be easypeasy compared to some of the other flicks I had previously sat through (despite my, well, extreme youth.)

Her eyes got pretty wide after I told her that on Easter we had rented The Fugitive for some festive post-egg hunt family bonding.

But I mean, c’mon lady, if I could handle Han Solo jumping off of a dam and the terrifying one-armed bandit, I could definitely hack a bloodthirsty T-Rex and a shirtless Jeff Goldblum.

AM I RITE DUDEZ OR WUT?

The other thing that really sticks out in my memory about this day (other than how much I loved this movie, despite it scaring the absolute crappola out of me) is that it was also the day I first heard the term “Jeeze Louise.”

This, to my 8 year-old self, was pretty much THE FUNNIEST THING OF LIFE, so in order to calm myself throughout the scariest parts of the film, I just repeated it over, and over again.

OH HAI NEWMAN BEING SPRAYED AND KILLED BY DISARMINGLY CUTE BUT ACTUALLY TERRIFYING DILOPHOSAURUSjeezelouisejeezelouisejeezelouise…

(And so on.)

Anywho, as you may imagine, going to this re-release is very high on my TO-DO list (as it too should be on yours), but in the meantime if you want the very best ever summation of the movie, please read this.

You will laugh.

I promise.

I am very famous.

Just saying.

And because I am very famous, I eat things like this:

And take family portraits like this:

Help.

Goodbye, my friend.

So come Monday, my best friend at work (the amazing, brilliant, and beautiful Jen) is moving on to a new job, and despite the fact that I am SO HAPPY FOR HER, my little heart is pretty sad knowing that I won’t be working with her for the REST OF MY LIFE.

Veteran readers of this blog will know that she has been a top partner in crime for the past two years as we’ve kicked butt and taken names, skulked about local shopping haunts, and tried out delicious cuisine in and around the downtown core.

(She is also a formidable gym partner, professional Ticket to Ride competitor, and the official Rant and Roll fairy god-mother.)

So Jen, if you’re reading this (and I know you are), let me say this-

GTFO.

YOLO!

Also:

Yeah. That’s pretty darn cheesey.

And I love it.

…

So there you have it folks.

What are you up to for the weekend? Any there any runs, films, fame, or friends on your radar? Do tell me all about it.

Happy Friday to you all!

All thanks to everyone; run runaway

This weekend we ran away.

We made our escape Friday afternoon: M commandeered the getaway car, stopping only briefly outside of my office building so I could throw my bags into the backseat, before sliding my little self into the front.

With the sun shining down on us, as well as lighting up the long-missed cerulean sky, we drove out of Vancouver proper and made our way to the, most aptly named, Sunshine Coast.

This, my friends, is a place filled with magic.

And I would like to share with you some snaps from our brief stint in paradise.

Fire.

Morning.

Games.

Ocean.

Trees.

Post-run.

View.

Beauty.

…

Sometimes I have great difficulty sleeping. I am either thinking too much, or I wake up in the middle of the night soaked in sweat. Whatever the case may be, my anxieties have a tendency to wreck havoc with my achieving the recommended eight hours.

Last Friday night, the night of our arrival, I slept better than I have for months. My head hit the pillow sometime around ten o’clock and I didn’t stir until eight the next morning. When I woke, I felt clear-headed and refreshed, as if emerging from a warm, safe, (and oh-so snuggly) cocoon.

Marveling at the early morning sunshine, M and I drank steaming mugs of dark, sweet coffee, and watched the families of ducks as they dived and dashed about in the water surrounding the dock.

We would have sat outside had the temperature not hovered around zero degrees celcius. There are only so many blankets in which a person can be swaddled.

Around ten thirty I set out for my weekly long training run. It’s always a bit of shock to the system, the first few minutes of the run, as the fresh, cool, coastal air, rushes in my nose and down my throat, frost tickling my heart and lungs.

But eventually, as always, I adapt, as does my stride and pace – although never my hands. My hands ache from the cold, and warp into hard demi-claws, that chap red and painful.

I run facing traffic, although on a Saturday morning, there is little to be found. I often smile to myself, as I am fooled again and again by the strong wind in the trees, that I too often mistake for an approaching engine, or tire.

The specter of a car.

I ran fifteen kilometers that morning.

I felt as though I could have run forever.

It’s like I said.

It’s magic.