Friday, November 28, 2008

The Curious Case of Where the Hell is our Mail

Friday, November 28, 2008
Since moving to the staggering metropolis of Calgary, I have been fascinated by several seemingly ordinary things. To me, the whole notion of pizza delivery, a 24-hour gas station and mail brought right to my house pretty much rank up there with Santa Claus and the awesome smell of Disneyland.

Where I grew up, pizza wasn't delivered; your mom made it by herself on the rare Friday night the whole family was home (and then we played a board game). The gas station was closed after 5pm every night and not open Sundays- or Holidays. And the mail was brought to the post office, where it was sorted into p.o. boxes, and when you were old enough your dad sent you down with his keys on your bike to pick up the day's Coop flier.

How thrilling it was to have the mail carrier come by every day. Yeah, okay, I fully acknowledge that every single person reading this right now thinks I'm an idiot. But whatever, you! I was delighted.

But suspicious things have happened in the past few weeks.

First, our mail stopped arriving.

Then, our mail started arriving again, with illegible, cryptic messages scrawled across the envelopes.

At first, they were pretty clear: "Shovel or no mail".

Our sincerest apologies, oh Mail Carrier! It's probably important for you to realize that my roommate and I are NEVER HOME. No, seriously. NEVER HOME. EVER. EVER. Maybe for like, 20 minutes on a Tuesday or something. Otherwise, NEVER HOME. We take turns coming in, dumping off laundry/mittens/groceries, cooking food quickly, turning lights on and off, and bringing in the mail. The one night of snow we received- neither of us was home to clear the walk, and we really feel bad about it.

But then, the mail disappeared again.

When we did get one errant Natural Gas bill, it had a puzzling message on it. I sat on the step for about 15 minutes trying to figure out what it said. "Be Now Maaaail!" was about the best I could come up with. Sarah seems to think it says, "RE NOV DEFER".

My roommate, the responsible one, called Canada Post.

The mystery continues. My Glamour subscription has yet to arrive. And for once, the excuse, "Seriously, I didn't get your letter. Honestly. Our mail hasn't arrived" will actually be legit.

Stay tuned for what is sure to be an anticlimactic conclusion to the saga of the home mail delivery service.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

How the Co-op Saved Christmas

Thursday, November 27, 2008
Scene: Co-op Marketplace downtown. Young couple enters.

One Female, mid-twenties. Brown hair, wearing awesome winter boots, looking a little weary from a hard day of work and waiting for her car to be serviced. May have taken car to be washed before being serviced, which is kind of the equivalent of shaving one's legs before a bikini wax; something she is also probably guilty of doing.

One Male, late-twenties. Bright eyed and carrying gym bag.

Girl: Blah, blah, blah, conversational blathering including "Hey! These apples smell like grapes, no totally, they smell like grape jiffies!" and "...there are teddy bears in the freezer. No, totally. There are teddy bears in the freezer! Why?!" and "MAAARZIPAN!". She is clearly out of her mind and it's a miracle he is even seen in public with her.

Guy: Mmhm, yes, mmhmm.


Guy: What?


Guy: laughter.

Girl: No, totally, it's like the two milk alternative beverages I hate the most, in one container. (makes a series of gagging noises. Again, it's a miracle he is even seen in public with her.) SOY. and. EGG NOG. GAG GAG GAG, etc.

Guy: must. buy. Noel. Nog. (puts bottle of gross beverage into basket)

end scene

Scene 2: Downtown Apartment. One bedroom, somewhere around 700 sq. feet. Girl is in yoga pants and in the process of pre-rinsing casserole dish previously holding delicious dinner of cannelloni.

Guy: enters kitchen. Maniacal laughter as he pours glass of disgusting Noel Nog.

Girl: Makes compromise. Takes one sip of disgusting vegetarian holiday alternative drink.

Girl: Pauses.

Girl: Pauses.

Girl: takes another sip. Steals bite of cookie.

Guy: Hesitantly smiles...

Girl: You're so not getting this drink back.

The End.

And so, my friends, it has come to pass that a compromise has been reached.

This is apparently what a relationship is about- caring enough about someone to let them force you to try what in theory should be the most revolting thing ever, and then liking it.

But I'm totally not budging on Chicken Pizza or Hollandaise Sauce. ESPECIALLY Chicken Pizza with Hollandaise sauce.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

another word that is not a word

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

You moron. It's "graduating". "Grad" is an abbreviation and cannot be used as a verb, no matter how what suffix you affix to it!

Sometimes I wonder if they do this just to torment me.

our server is down


So in light of my inability to do work, I present to you:

You have to use 3 words to answer each question. No more, no less. It’s harder than you think.

1. Where is your cell phone?
To my left.

2. Where is your girlfriend/boyfriend/hubby?
He's at work.

3. Your hair?
Needs a trim.

4. Where is your father?
On the road.

6. Your favorite thing to do?
Snuggle and laugh.

7. Your dream last night?
Nope, too tired.

8. Your favorite drink?
Bring me coffee!

9. Your dream car?
Parked in driveway.

10. The room you’re in?
Total cube farm.

12. Your fears?
Snakes and failure.

14. Who did you hang out with last night?
My boyfriend, Gary.

15. What aren't you good at?
A whole lot.

16. Muffins?
Cake for breakfast!

17. One of your wish list items?
....can't say outloud.

19. The last thing you did?
A frustrating meeting.

20. What are you wearing?
New winter boots!

22. Your pet?
She talks back.

24. Your life?
Pretty good, otherwise.

23. Your mood?
Skittish and stressed.

26. Missing?
My teddybear mittens.

27. What are you thinking about right now?
Trying not to.

28. Your car?
Sassy Mazda 3.

29. Your work?
Not going there!

30. Your summer?
Very far away :(

31. Your relationship status?
Muchly in love.

32. Your favorite color(s)?
Green, Red, Black

33. When is the last time you laughed?
In irony? Today.

34. Last time you cried?
Far too recently.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008


Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Okay, I'm just putting this out there, but SRSLY.


If I have to wait any longer to see Quantum of Solace I might DIE. Right now it appears that I will need to hold out until Friday, or possibly even NEXT WEEK.

I am willing to forsake the use of vowels! I need me some Bond!

Oh, the woes of Motuesday

So I spent the weekend in Edmonton, freezing my tukush off and cheering on runners with bells tied to their shoes. In lieu of the weekend, I had yesterday off.

When I get a day-off-in-lieu, I like to really milk that day off. I spent Monday:

-Eating blueberry pancakes and reading Wicked at Nellie's (yum, no line for brunch, huzzah!)
-Updating files I never quite get around to updating at home
-Scouting out Christmas gifts for those I love
-Buying the most awesome winter boots that ever did live, as a gift from my Grandma's to me.
-Watching Disney's "Black Hole", this epically corny but also, in its own way, awesome sci-fi movie from the 80's.

But now I'm back at my desk. Taking my morning coffee/blog break. Waiting for a mail merge. Feeling for all the world like a Monday.

Oh, and if you've been trying to get ahold of me- yeah, my phone is dead. The battery is dead, I lost the charger, and now I discover that the actual SERVICE has kicked out. AGAIN. In an ongoing saga of: "I paid you" "No you didn't" "Yes I did, check your records" "Oh, we apologize" "Get me out of this contract" "If you cancel, you owe us $300".

Le sigh.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Sweet Wedding Photo

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

My favourite one, of the five, the bride got back from the photographer as a teaser. I'll have you know that standing that high up on a narrow little step in heels was treacherous. AND COLD.

Alberta is cold in November. Who knew?

I am ashamed of myself

For reasons I will not post here.

I have violated the number one rule of life according to this blog, and as such, I hang my head in shame. IN SHAME. (But it's much easier to hang one's head in shame when making a smooshy face, by the way). I should be kicked off the planet, I should have my transit rights taken away, perhaps I should be triple-taxed.

But I can't reveal what it is that I am so embarrassed by, because if I did, I would lose credibility and never again be able to mock people who make kissy faces on the train.


Monday, November 17, 2008

Since when?

Monday, November 17, 2008
Question for you, blog-readers.

When did the expression "gifted" become an acceptable term? As in, "Jane gifted me this brooch" or "Dick's parents decided to gift us a kitchen aid mixer" (man, I really want a kitchen aid mixer. I wish Dick's parents would GIVE ME a kitchen aid mixer)

Am I anal, or does this bother anyone else?

And for those of you that care, I made it through the wedding. I made it through the decorating and the rehearsals and the hair styling and the dressing of the bride and the actual ceremony (okay, there I cracked a little) and even the speech I made.

But alas, I have no camera (perhaps I could RECEIVE A CAMERA AS A GIFT) and so have no photos. Sorry. You'll all just have to imagine me with victorian-style ringlets and red lipstick, kickin' it in black satin with a rye and ginger in my hand, wearing the garter El Boyfriendo caught.

Thursday, November 13, 2008


Thursday, November 13, 2008
Do it. Go ahead and list for me what you want right now.

I want:

a gingerbread latte and a cookie
a hug, perferably including a little backrubbing
4 more hours in this day
a new Macbook
shoes that actually fit
someone to do my laundry
to just move house already
for my basement suite lady to shut the f up about the laundry room being in her basement. lady, you knew that was the case when you rented the joint and moved your virginal church working 45 year old twin bedded self on in. Suck it up or move out. Preferably option two.
To talk to my parents on the phone
Somewhere to go that is very very quiet
a tylenol 3
a million trillion dollars
to be essentially this happy, but not this stressed, for the rest of my life
to not cry in front of 150 people on Saturday
that digital camera I want that I keep seeing everywhere

Things I know for sure

The promise of a double-double makes getting out of bed in the morning a whole lot easier.

Hugs solve all problems. Except problems requiring power tools. Then hugs come afterwards.

Cutting out 150 leaf shapes out of fancy paper is going to take a lot longer than I bargained for.

Working until 9 and then coming in early the next day means I feel like I live here.

Tomorrow, I need to acquire: a strapless bra in the correct size (apparently no longer the same size I was in Grade 10, who knew?), pantyhose, lipstick that hits that tricky, fine line between "Sexy" and "Outshine the Bride" and a wedding gift. And several clean, yet funny jokes.

I am soooooo screwed.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Guess What?!

Wednesday, November 12, 2008
I'm still at work.

It's almost 9pm.



Most of the things that happen to me fall into one of two categories:

"This is so boring, don't you dare try to tell anyone this story or you'll have no friends, ever ever again", or, "This is going to be really really funny. Later."

Most of my blog content falls into the second category. I will admit that as of late, more and more posts are creeping up into the former versus the latter, but it's damn hard to make something entertaining out of "Last night I snuggled on the couch wearing slipper socks and watching TV on DVD".

That is my life, folks. I have settled into a blissful weekly routine and no longer make an ass of myself in public in the attempt to catch the eye of the gangly looking dark haired dude in glasses. Most of the time.

Instead, I try not to cry/burst out laughing when, after many failed attempts to pick a locked bathroom door at 10:40pm (when I really had to use said bathroom) on a work night with a bobby pin (can't be done! Hollywood LIES!), several different keys and a very tiny screwdriver, my ingenious other half takes to the metal knob with a drill and saved the day.

Lesson learned: The answer, apparently, to all my life's problems is no longer "Call your dad in tears because dads fix things; alternatively sit on the floor and cry." The answer is "Power tools."

Second lesson learned: crappy situations at the time later make good blog content.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Dear Martha Stewart Living Online,

Monday, November 10, 2008
You pack of liars.

Okay, so, I'm mildly obsessed with Martha Stewart's Everyday Food magazine. You may know it from the giant stack living in my house. Alternatively, you might be familiar with it's smiling little face at the checkout at the grocery store. Either way, the recipes contained within generally promise to be fast, user-friendly, and delicious.

They usually are.

Except for last night's "experiment".

Sticking to the theme of trying so desperately to be a grown-up lady, I decided that I would make my boyfriend a fancy dinner, minus the fancy. Okay, I admit, I was basically trying to show off my incredibly marketable skills, inherited from my mother, and not kill us at the same time.

The lesson I should have learned here is: cook what you know.

Don't attempt to cook a meat you don't eat, using a recipe you've never tried, and a cooking method you're pretty much unfamiliar with.

This pork tenderloin with a honey-butter sauce?

Turned out nothing like it was supposed to.

Okay, it was pork. I used honey and butter. But how one could manage NOT to burn a sauce made entirely from sugar and fat, cooked at high heat for over 15 minutes is beyond me.

And who knew? Pork tenderloin crusted in sugar and butter, roasted for too long because someone doesn't know how to tell when pork is cooked because SHE NEVER EATS IT, is not really that great.

Martha, you failed me. Or I failed you. Either way, I made Gary eat it. Using my single other marketable skill inherited from my mother:


Ah, the wonders of the short-short work week

This week is going to be a long one.

Not in terms of the number of days I have to be in the office- which is only 3- but the amount of stuff I have to do both in my personal and professional life. Yeah, that's right, I've got a professional life. And a personal one. Even though my personal one basically consists of falling asleep during Bond movies and thinking of different ways to style my hair that all essentially end up looking the same.

And so, because I was mocked last night about always blogging on Mondays about how much I hate Mondays and wish it was the weekend so I could watch british rom-coms featuring one Mr. Hugh Grant, I've got nothing to say. Except that maybe I wish it was still the weekend. So I could be watching movies. Featuring british actors once arrested for canoodling with sex trade workers.

Friday, November 07, 2008

Do you need a lift?

Friday, November 07, 2008

I really really do.

weirded out!

Last night I had a dream that I was in the shower, listening to a discman. WTF? I don't remember the last time I listened to a discman. I don't remember the last time I even saw a discman!

I do remember the last time I had a shower (about 2 hours ago), but I sure wasn't using electronic devices or somewhat outdated portable music players while I did it.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

the larks, still bravely singing, fly

Thursday, November 06, 2008
I bought my poppy today. The checkout girl at Safeway had the nerve to incorrectly tell me that I was wearing it wrong.

No, young'un. You wear it above your heart. Not on your lapel, not on your purse, not on your hat.

I'm not the most patriotic person around. I'm proud of my country, for the most part. There are days when I firmly smack my forehead with my open palm over the things our government does. I'm not particularly supportive of the military. In fact, you could probably say I oppose military involvement, pretty much everywhere.

But I am proud of Canada, and I think it's important to honour those individuals, Canadian and otherwise, that served their country.

Plus, I always won the Remembrance Day Essay Contest the Legion had in our school. Quite often I won in our district, and even once provincially. Boo-yah. "Remembrance Day, Discuss" is one of those questions I was daaaang good at answering.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

May or may not have just happened

Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Chef Michael Smith (holds up two baked potatoes):
Now, I could scoop these out, add some cheese and twice bake them. But I've got a better idea.

Megan (sits up, spills cereal onto fleece pants, cusses under breath):

Dear Future

Get here already.

Hugs and Kisses,

ps- but by "future", I really just mean "approximately 5:00, the time to go home and eat nachos on the couch and watch something and snuggle". Mmmkay?

Walking in a winter slushland

Ah, November. It snowed last night. I was so excited, I think I nearly killed Gary with my joy. That much squee-ing can be deadly. But then I killed the joy by having so scrape off my windshield while standing in a giant puddle of slush this morning.

I was over an hour early for work this morning. I don't know if you know this, but I am NEVER early for work. I'm usually "on time", give or take 5 minutes. But no, I hauled in this morning, disarmed the alarm, made coffee, checked my emails and started in on the giant pile of work I've been plowing through for the last 4 hours. And now I'm taking a break.




I told my boss this morning that I'd much rather be at home, watching Bridget Jones. She concurred, but did not suggest that we take a team personal day to go home and watch Bridget Jones.

Okay, break over, back to giant pile of work. Sigh.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Ruminating on a quote from one of my favouritest of films

Tuesday, November 04, 2008
To paraphrase, in the words of the wise Rob Gordon- "...what really matters is what you like, not what you are like."

And while I'm not entirely sure that I agree all of the time- one's character and values are significantly important to me in all of my close relationships- I'll provide you with a list.

Things I Like

-John Cusak
-Questionable Content
-Cooking Blogs
-Hot, Medium-Roast Coffee
-The colours green, plum, red and blue
-fuzzy sweaters that don't itch
-text messaging
-Apple Products. Almost all of them.
-Family Heirlooms. Mine, yours, his, hers, maybe someday ours. Especially of the jewelled variety.
-Photographs of babies, but not ones dressed up Anne Geddes style, with food on their faces or artfully naked ones posing on or around or anywhere near, quite frankly, naked adults. Creeeepy.
-Whiny Canadian Indie Rock. Insert here: The Weakerthans, Feist, The Golden Dogs, The Format (not Canadian but I make an exception), Both Wainrights- Rufus and Martha (Wait, are they Canadian?), Sam Roberts, Broken Social Scene, Stars, Arcade Fire (sometimes), etc.
-Bookstores that allow open browsing
-Movies on Bluray (dude, you can totally see the difference, I was wrong, I'll admit it)
-Doctor Who, iffy on the future sans David Tennant et al
-Pinot Noir
-Handwriting and Long Division
-Filet Mignon, Sauteed Veg, Stuffed Baked Potato
-Peach Iced Tea and Diet Coke
-Kraft Dinner
-Pizza with pineapples

Totally not an exhaustive list. But a list none the less.

A Day Eight Years in the Making

Today is a hard day. I'm afraid, my friends, that tomorrow will be even harder. Today, a group of individuals that I don't necessarily trust to make a good decision (please note: not "the right decision") will elect their next leader. And everyone else on the planet who isn't starving to death- because clearly, those individuals have bigger problems- is holding their breath. And feeling, if you're me, completely hopeless.

Why don't I have faith?

Because this decision, made by the people, is ultimately That's a good thing, right? Yeah, sure. It's a great thing. It's absolutely the ONLY way it should be. Individuals, I trust. But People as a collective, I can't. I don't really have faith in a Nation to make a good decision, when their track record pretty much blows.

This was going to be a far more intelligent blog post, but let's cut to the chase:

Yankees, you're gonna make the wrong decision, because talk is cheap. Talk means nothing. You can wave your flag up and down the street and post on your blog and put a sign on your lawn and tell your neighbours and coworkers how enlightened you are to back someone different from you- but unless you actually BELIEVE in change and have the courage to do something about it when you mark your ballot?

Good luck to you, then.

Monday, November 03, 2008

Call a Doctor!

Monday, November 03, 2008
I just checked the weather forecast, and it's predicting snow this week! At least 3 days of snow!

And I am excited!

I think I might be terminally ill. I hate snow. I hate winter. I hate cold. But I am so very excited for the prospect of a soft, snowy, wintery evening with twinkly lights and a warm homemade batch of soup.

Yeah, I say this now, but the first time I have to scrape my windshield in the morning, I bet I'll be taking it all back.

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Weekend Update!

Saturday, November 01, 2008
Eeeek, the first day after Halloween means the first day of Christmas Season!

Sarah and I hosted a little party last night that was a lot of fun. We had about 100 kids at the door and I was (unfairly) dubbed the Candy Scrooge.

What? One candy apiece! That seems standard to me.

This weekend I have high hopes of doing very little. I think I'm going to cozy up with my special gentleman friend, read a good book, maybe get a kick start on something crafty (I'm in a DIY mood) and watch some high-adrenaline action movies. I'd like to get a kick start on my Christmas shopping, but gosh-oh-gee I don't know what anyone wants...

(If I normally buy you presents, feel free to consider this your invitation to post what you want in the comments section).