Let me first say that I hate hospitals. I realize they are a wonderful thing, but I prefer to avoid them. I spent a lot of time in hospitals as a kid. Not because there was anything wrong with me, but because I had an accident-prone baby brother. Accidents involving bikes, cars, fire, wood chips, glass — for someone who has been known to faint at the sight of blood, it wasn’t the most ideal situation for me (probably even less so for my brother.) But I was cautious, and for the most part have managed to avoid being there for myself.
But now, my turn.
I am sitting here tonight in a fairly high state of anxiety. Sometimes things fall apart, and this month the thing that has fallen apart is my body. So it’s made for a kind of shitty month.
So, we have here that most rare of things, a gorgeous sunny Vancouver winter day. It is truly glorious. Am I going for a hike? No, I am not. I do not hike. Much.
No, instead, I am sitting inside enjoying the light through a window, which is how I most like to enjoy the sunshine. I may have been a cat in a former life. And what else am I doing as I luxuriate in the sun and write to you, my friends?
I am boning up on pop music. Continue reading
I’m off to broker peace in the Middle East.
Ha ha ha!
No, I’m afraid my conflict resolution course did not work that quickly.
Taking a little cooking break.
My mom usually hosts Thanksgiving.
She is a glorious over-cooker. Within her circle, she’s legendary for it. It totally comes from a place of love. She wants to make sure that every person who has come to her house will leave full, regardless of their tastes or dietary requirements. So Thanksgiving at her place, yes, includes turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and gravy and yams and brussels sprouts and cranberry sauce. But it also probably includes vegetarian gravy and vegetarian stuffing and bread rolls and broccoli-cheese and corn and peas and salad. And there will be the wild cards of at least two recipes from the latest issue of Fine Cooking. Dessert will have the traditional pumpkin pie, pecan pie and apple pie. But if the crowd is big, there might be something chocolate too, just in case the chocolate lovers feel somehow deprived.
One time she hosted a pretty big Thanksgiving dinner – I think there were maybe 20 people or so. She actually forgot to bring out the turkey for over half an hour. No one noticed. It’s like that. When people say to me (and they really really do), “Oh, you’re vegetarian? What do you eat?”, I just laugh.
I’ve recently discovered, to my utter shock, that I can make people do things. I’ve only just figured this out, so I don’t know if it’s a new thing, or just something I never noticed before, but it’s like suddenly finding out you have a super power, to be honest. Here’s the evidence I’ve built up around my theory: Continue reading
I live in an apartment where the window in the dining room looks across a small street at another building. All the people across the way keep their curtains closed all the time, so all there is to see is curtain.
But today! Today, someone on the third floor has put a picture, facing out to the street, of Jonah Hill. It’s not a poster or anything. It looks like a photocopy, actually.
Oh wait, I guess it is a poster. It’s this one. But why would you get a poster and put it so it’s facing out your window to the street?
Why? Why would someone do something like this? I just don’t understand what statement it being made here.
I think I’ve mentioned before that my husband is Australian. (And, since earlier this year, Canadian now too!) We have been together for about ten years, and we only spent one of those years in Australia. Continue reading
Ok, ever since I moved to Vancouver about six years ago, I’ve been hearing about the Richmond Chinese Night Market. Now the name alone was enough to provoke my curiosity. I love Chinatowns, and I love open-air markets, and I love the idea of having such a thing in the evening instead of 10 am on a Sunday or whenever they usually happen.
Also, a bit of background for those of you who aren’t familiar with Vancouver: Chinatown here isn’t all that big. Yes, it has Chinese people, but it’s nothing compared to Richmond. Richmond is out in the suburbs and it seems to be where a large part of our Chinese population has chosen to settle. It has entire areas you can drive through that don’t have any signs in English. It’s kind of awesome. So presumably a Chinese night market in Richmond would be the real deal. Continue reading
So. I coloured my hair the other night. Medium brown with a bit of red in it, which is pretty close to my natural colour except that my hair has been going grey since I was 24 and I’m still too vain to give in to it just yet. I did it myself from a box, and in the middle of the process I dropped the applicator bottle and it hit my shirt on the way down. It put a big stain on my shirt.
I am telling you this in case I randomly disappear, because frankly, that stain looks an awful lot like dried blood and under the wrong circumstances, and if I weren’t around to dispute the idea, someone might get the impression that I was stabbed in the stomach. (Was I watching gangster movies on the weekend? Yes, yes I was.)
Let me confirm that I was not and have never been stabbed in the stomach. Or anywhere. I actually work quite hard to avoid the types of situation that might result in a stabbing. (Although I’ve been told that I accidentally stabbed my best friend in the hand with a pencil in the fifth grade. I have no recollection of this, so I guess I blocked it out or something. She, however — oddly enough — remembers it quite well. She’s still my friend though, so I guess she didn’t hold it against me.) Just now I briefly considered taking a photo of my stomach for you to show how wonderfully unstabbed it is, but I am just not that confident about my abs or lack thereof. So you’ll just have to take my word for it.
I mean, I am writing this, so I think that’s some kind of proof anyway.
See this shirt here? Not evidence of anything.