Monday, April 30, 2007

Weekend Shenanigans

Monday, April 30, 2007

The Calgary Woman's Show. It continues to irk me to no end that it's not the Calgary Women's Show...but I digress.

I spent my weekend trying not to hit children, watching people jiggle on a 'total body vibration' unit (not as exciting as it sounds, unfortunately), enduring the campiest Sears Fashion Dance Show ever, and trying to stop a Canadian Idol Runner Up from looking down my shirt.

Oh, that's right, while I was promoting my place of work and our upcoming shows, I was also apparently hawking my personal wares to Very, Very Orange First Losers.

To add insult to injury, I was also approached by representatives from the Botox Clinic, the Lazer Hair Removal Clinic, four Women's Weight Loss Gimics (sorry, Clinics), and a rep from a company that does finishing school-like classes for teenaged girls and women, teaching the pillars of femininity: Purity, Modesty and Dignity.

I was informed that I exhibited none of the above pillars, and as such, I needed to take the classes to blossom into the graceful woman I should be.

What she was really saying was that I looked like an undignified and immodest 'ho, parading about, showing off the goods in a trampy fashion to a Canadian Reality TV 'Celebrity'.

It's so much fun being me!!

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Oh, Culligan Man!

Thursday, April 26, 2007
Minor frustrations are often the most irritating.

You know, when the grocery store doesn't have the ingredient you need to make whatever it is you want to make- black beans one week, coconut milk the next, or a special favourite kind of frozen pizza, advertised as on sale. Irks me to no end.

Or when you really, really want a diet coke, but you're fifteen cents short.

Or when you decide that it's okay, you can live without a diet coke- you have a dozen of those nifty instant iced tea sachet thingies in your desk drawer for beverage emergencies such as this- and you sashay into the kitchen to fill your water bottle with icy fresh bottled water...

and the damn water dude STILL hasn't showed up.

We're going on weeks here, people. SEVERAL WEEKS. I could have died of dehydration by now!

Don't you care, you cold, heartless Culligan man?!

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

I'm Demanding and High Maintenance...

Tuesday, April 24, 2007
When it comes to my cookbooks.

I'm a little obsessed lately. It's as if having the right guide, and the right tools, and the right mindset will make me into the world's best cook- or at least a decent enough cook to be able to prepare meals that are at least palatable. I fear becoming my own version of my mother's 'Hungarian Princess'- whatever the heck that means, I don't really know because she hasn't explained it to me yet.

So I search online. I go to bookstores. I read food blogs and check out what they like. I borrow them from the library. So far, nothing! I have yet to find that exact one- the cookery bible that will transform me from Lean Cuisine Luncher to Modern Maven of Most-deliciousness. (It's hard to alliterate with m. bah.)

Is it really so much to ask that the cookbook of my dreams will include, but not be limited to, the following?

-full colour photographs of almost every dish
-nutritional information for every recipe
-a wide selection of low-fat, vegetarian, ethnic and seafood dishes
-a solid, informative how-to on the basics of cooking
-recipes featuring simple ingredients available for less than the cost of my unborn child's future graduate degree, but also gourmet recipes for days that I am feeling more adventurous
-a reputable and trusted source

Seriously. Shouldn't be that hard, should it?

Monday, April 23, 2007

Strong Enough For A Man

Monday, April 23, 2007
You remember that Secret Deodorant commercial? Well, they've changed it, to Strong Enough For A Woman. Fine, I get it, I'm all equal-opportunity-feminism and stuff, and I thought it was a lame slogan anyway.

So this weekend, when I ran into Shoppers for some a new stick of antipersperant, I picked up the Secret and thought, "Hmm, okay. Whatevs. Just as long as it doesn't smell like babies, I'm cool!"

Yeah. Well. APPARENTLY, when they changed the slogan of Secret Deodorant, they should have changed it to Secret: Strong Enough For A Woman, Smells Like A Man.

There is no subtle way to sniff yourself and determine whether or not you smell like a man, and unfortunately there is no one at work right now that I could ask without offending.

Damn. And I thought I had finally outgrown that horrible nickname Candice gave me in grade 8 when she sprayed me with every imaginable kind of cologne in the Coop Drugstore.


Sunday, April 22, 2007

Johnny Got Screwed or, Highlights from a Shindiggery Inspired By the Residence Complex Spring Dinner and Dance 1992

Sunday, April 22, 2007
I've gone and done it. That's right, I entertained people in my own home.

I spent yesterday nervously cleaning, cleaning, hiding my personal effects and 'cooking' (well, I did make brownies with chopped up turtles in them- that counts, right?).

Would my friends like each other? Would it end in a firey disaster? Would everyone mock my musical tastes?

But apparently, if you just throw Thriller on the hifi, people are impressed by your use of vinyl- and dip served from ugly homemade pottery is charming. Someone will bring a wicked mix CD, a toilet paper bride will tear herself out of her dress, Incredible-Hulk style, and Crave Cupcakes will be delicately cut in halves and quarters and shared among sugar-hungry red wine drinkers.

Plus, no one will notice that the art in your bedroom is hung crooked and off-centered, for they'll be too busy admiring the Magic Bullet blender being used to make daquiris.

After the evening was done and I was curled up in my amazingly clean bedroom, I realized that my friends are not my friends because I have an immaculate showhome, or because I can whip up hors d'oeuvres like Martha Stewart, or because I hired a hot hot band to play at my party. They like me mostly because I'm embarassing, and 23, and live in a shanty, and serve spinach dip in a bread bowl, and force everyone to drink out of souvenier prom glasses with 15 year old ribbon tied to the stems, and that I shouldn't have been worried about anything.

Except for Jon trying to Network my bathroom.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Lessons in Taxi Etiquette

Friday, April 20, 2007
I have learned, in my many years of Urbane Living, that it is probably best when hailing a cab downtown after dark by oneself to do so from within the lobby of an upscale hotel. Any one of the Palliser, Hyatt or Mariott will do- or the Sheraton, if one should find herself on that end of the Core. The concierge is the single girl's best friend after 10:30pm, helping to avoid freaks, hippies, homeless dudes, potential rapists, and over-eager frat boys on their way to/from Cowboys.

However, it is probably not in one's best interest to, when chatting with the taxi driver after he picks you up in front of the hotel, tell him that you'd had a tiring evening because you had been working; lest he come to the conclusion that you are a prostitute.

Snow, Snow, Get the Hell Out of Here...



Does it have to snow? Why? Why?! I sit in my little house, planning my epic garden, sure to impress the neighbours and their wealthy nephews, leading to riches and vacations in the British Virgin Islands and regular spa treatments...and it snows.

How the hell am I supposed to launch my elaborate rich-husband-snagging plan if I can't be out in the yard, lookin' all cute and such, with my garden hat and dirt on my adorable nose?!

Bah. I guess I'll just stay inside and sing to my houseplants, and act really suave when the people who live downstairs catch me at it again.

Thursday, April 19, 2007


Thursday, April 19, 2007
Regardless of whether the expiry date on the yogurt I just ate was March or November, I probably shouldn't have eaten it.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

[Snowy] night in [Calgary]

Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Close enough, right?

Dad, that one is for you. And if you don't pick up on it, I think you're gonna have to come back to Canada, because obviously, we don't know each other anymore.

So tonight I decided to launch my plan of becoming a crazy vegan who grows all her own food. Except, I mean, it's the middle of April, and its snow/raining outside, and well- I'm lazy.

So I am making vegan chili instead.
...let me do a mental double check...yup, no cruelty to aminals except for she who's planning to ingest it.

I did want to tell you about something very small that made me happier than I've been in a very long time.

Last night, on my late-night crawl home from the train station, I noticed that some crafty trickster, of whom I am uber jealous, climbed the fence that surrounds the property kitty-corner from the Second Cup (the space that is currently zoned for a low-and-mixed income highrise; quite contested in my yuppity community, but I think it's a wonderful idea) and left a very special greeting.

About 2 dozen pink plastic harbourers of peace, and a sign that read Caution! Dangerous Flamingos!

Whoever you are, secret flamingo vandal, you- you brought a lonely girl walking through a dark and kinda creepy neighbourhood joy at 1:17 am.

Next time, can I come with?

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Desperately Seeking...

Tuesday, April 17, 2007
SWF, 23, seeks partner for hot afternoon rendezvous. You be firm bodied but with a soft, warm side; like spending quiet time alone with me, enjoy reading, staying in and rainy afternoons.

Sweet Jesus, I need a nap.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Things I Can't Do That I Have No Intention Of Learning How

Monday, April 16, 2007
Tie a bowtie.
Tie a regular tie, for that matter.
Buckle a babyseat into the backseat of a minivan.
Properly hard-boil an egg.
Program the time on the VCR.
Figuring out what time Dog the Bounty Hunter is on the 'tube.
Repeating, from memory, and then utilizing Larry Wood's 7 Steps to Capital Budgeting Ecstacy.
All the words to Auld Lang Sine.
How to lay brick.
An easier way to clean mini-blinds.
How to drive a standard.
How to make my own caramel macchiato.
How to properly use the software update thingy on my iBook. (That's what mac-savvy boys are for)
All of the uses of Nutritional Yeast.

Stir Crazy


So it's mid-April, and if this was last year and the years before that, I'd be sitting outside on the afghan I got for Grad trying to catch a sunburn and osmosize four months of knowlege from my Capital Budgeting textbook.

But it's not last year.

So here it is, mid-April, and I'm sitting inside with my bottle of slightly cool 'iced' white tea that tastes like stale marshmallow frogs, thinking about how when I get home, I have to wash the floor and take down the Christmas lights.

Maybe I should go back to school.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

My Big Fat Greek Craving

Thursday, April 12, 2007
Lauren and I watched a few choice movies over the past few weeks- one of them the obvious film that inspired my craving for all things Opa.

Oh yes. I had to have it. Sweet, sweet souvlaki. Sweet, sweet baklava. Sweet, sweet flaming cheese with a name that is really cool and sounds like some kind of tikitiki contraption, greekified for the masses, but that I can never remember.

So this evening, before she was turned away from the blood donor's club yet again, Lauren and I checked out the cuisine at Pegasus Greek Restaurant.

You'll know it by the giant winged horse statue on the roof.

Or, the subtle mural that covers the ENTIRE BUILDING.

Or the complete lack of parking.

Either way, the waitress was tarty, the patrons spoke with heavy accents about the marital status of their relatives and the menu was largely illegible.

But damn if the food wasn't fantastic.

Monday, April 09, 2007

Dear Mom and Dad,

Monday, April 09, 2007
I've got something important to tell you. If you were here in Canada, this would be one of those conversations where the earnest and charming daughter arrives in a twin sweater set and sits her parents down on the couch in the living room.

I'm running away with my new boyfriends.

Yes, boy-friend-s. Plural. See- there's just so much love to go around these days, why limit myself?

I've decided that a shining future in PR just isn't for me, and that the conventional values and goals honoured by our society- like a stable address and paying my bills on time- are really just an expression of the way that the man is getting me down. I need to free my inner love-child. See the world.

If it just so happens that I see the world from the back of a van while lugging speakers and guitar cases around and drinking fishbowls of vodka- well- maybe that's the way that God intended.

The God of Sex, Drugs and Guns 'n Roses Cover Bands, that is.

Hugs and Kisses,


ps- I'm changing my name to Tiffani- it suits the band's image better. Oh! And here's a photo of me and the boys! Oh, and please- send money. All of that hairspray gets really expensive!!

Saturday, April 07, 2007

So This Is What Mid-Twenties Feels Like

Saturday, April 07, 2007
Hmm. I'm older. And none the wiser for it, apparently.

Anyway, I have had a wonderful easter weekend- full of drinking, floor spins, matching junk, crave cupcakes and properly-cooked rice.

Thanks, wonderful friends and family. I'll be back later with a real blog post, but Molly Ringwald and Sixteen Candles awaits!

Friday, April 06, 2007

Good Friday

Friday, April 06, 2007
Jesus H. Christ, I haven't been this hung over since I wasn't legally able to purchase alcohol.

Last night was our office Ladies' Night, and all I will say at this point is that drinks shouldn't be served in fishbowls.


They should ONLY be served in fishbowls.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Oh, Why Have You Betrayed Me So?

Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Cher Starbucks,

I love you. Your hot, foamy lattes, your delicious thumbprint scones that taste homemade, if I lived in the Smitten Kitchen household; the way your baristas greet me with a smile.

I remember our first encounter: me, a young, fresh-off-the-farm engenue, and you, trusting, steady, slightly mysterious and full of the maturity and variety I had been missing in my life.

I wasn't even jealous when you signed up Sir Paul to your new record label. Not jealous at all. For there is room for all in my ever-growing love for you, the way there is always another street corner or office tower for you to occupy. Occupy it with my love, my darling.

But woe. Woe is me, this morning, when I tried your scrumptious-sounding new offering. The Dulce de Leche Latte sounded so creamy, so delectable. I'm all for spicing things up a little, and hey- if you wanted to try something new, I'm game. Our relationship is steady and familiar, open and honest, but routine? Never.

I have been BETRAYED! How could you have sprung this on me? A sickly-sweet, chemical tasting disaster? If you are going to do something this horrific and violating...geez..

You at least have to ASK a girl first.

I'm not sure I know who you are anymore. This rift will take time, trust and love to overcome.


Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Nine Days and Counting

Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Update: The Great No-Theatre-Athon continues. I've made it nine WHOLE days. Nine! That's a killer record for me! I think I might even be able to make two weeks.

Two weeks without theatre. Leaving me time in my schedule for all kinds of regimes.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Like a Fish Needs A Bicycle...

Monday, April 02, 2007
Tonight I survived the ultimate in single-lady challenges.

Programming the Universal Remote Control.

Oh, that's right. It may have taken 20 minutes...
I may have sworn a blue streak, taken the batteries out and put them back in about five times...
I may have been on the way to call my brother, the only man-substitute I have...

But I did it myself.

Boyfriend Angst, take that!

(It now controls my 13" Toshiba Television/VCR Combo. Tomorrow: Programming and connecting the DVD player!)