Since I’m heading back to North Carolina to visit Josh in ohhhh tomorrow (!!!), maybe it’s a good time to finally post pictures from my last two visits in August and November? Oui? Oui!
Thanks to overtime during the office move last summer I had a sweet amount of lieu time to use as I saw fit, and I see very fit indeed to spend as much time as I possible with Josh. Obviously! So I scheduled two vacations close together which had the bonus of making the time between them seem nigh insignificant, but the disadvantage of making the time between a November and April visit seem to take forever.
And yet here we are! And here you go:
(And if the formatting is all wonky, screw it. WordPress is misbehaving and I’ve no time to mess around with it!)
August
This is American for 'cheese'; the edibility of heavily processed foods being a constant point of debate between Josh and I.
Josh was very pleased when we returned to the hotel one evening to find his skull-betopped scooter bookended by a pair of badass Harleys.
A small island of Canada in a vast sea of on-sale Americana.
Something's wrong when your bestseller list includes disproportionate amounts of Glenn Beck, Nancy Grace, and Dick Armey. Oh and lets not forget the Ann Coulter. Oy vey.
Late night date night at the Wal-Mart extravaganza!
November
Gettin' all casual in the kitchen, by which I mean he didn't realize the camera was on secret timer 😉
Baking a brie! With caramelized worcestershire and red wine onions cooked right into the phyllo!
Now that's what cheese should look like!! The brie didn't make it two feet from the oven before being devoured within five minutes right at the counter. Words cannot describe the delicious.
Trip to the most psychedelic pizza joint ever!
Psychedlic menu! Just give pizza a try, man! Why can't all toppings just get along? 😛
Have you noticed winter kicks my ass much? As soon as the temperature drops, my brain seems to freeze along with the pipes, and it becomes a struggle just to roll my unmotivated and generally winter-blah’d self off the futon first thing in the morning. It’s dark when I get up, it’s dark when I get off work; it’s cold, slushy, and all around miserable. Fuck winter, man. Fuck it.
The only good thing about winter so far was that I flew south to spend Christmas with Josh. Unfortunately, that merriment ended as soon as my return flight touched down in Buffalo – in the middle of a blizzard. But wait, it gets better.
One delayed hour on the frozen tarmac later, I shoved my way past throngs of snowbirding elderly (who should NOT be allowed to travel with ‘carry-ons’ they can’t lift out of the overhead compartments without assistance), ELEVEN people blocking the aisles waiting for wheelchairs, three screaming toddlers and a fat guy with a cat. My luggage took even longer. I was also starving, having only brought ten dollars for travel-food without realizing that a 9am airport breakfast of yogurt and O.J. would cost eight bucks (you’d think I’d have this figured out by now, it being my third trip), or that all the delays would bring me well past 4pm before I could get to a bank machine. Said bank machine promptly rejected my card. Turns out the last machine I had used before my vacation was of the sketchy variety, and my card had been frozen as protection against card copying fraud. In retrospect, I’m quite grateful – but try telling that to me when I’m starving, tired, and pissed.
Good thing my mom was there to pick me up, or I might have kicked something and broken toes again. She had agreed to drive me to/from Buffalo since it’s loads cheaper to fly within the U.S. than across the Can-Am border. It’s also not that long of a drive, and we’ve got fun family along the way, so she was happy to oblige. She’s also got better luck with technology – her bank card worked just fine, so off we left with a few extra bucks and the intent of stopping for a quick bite to eat before hitting the border.
And then we got outside. Ohhhh, the outside.
I’m not going to describe the outside. But it looked something like this:
got snow?
And sounded something like this:
What exit do we take? Nine, nine, the map says nine. Yeah, but where is nine? I don’t know, I can hardly see anything! Oh my god, it’s getting worse! This isn’t safe, we need to pull over! I can’t see the road! There is no over to pull to! Just watch the signs, can you see them!? I’ll lean my head out the window – ack, blargh, spit, cough! – I think that’s exit…three! Exit three! So we still have…crap, a long ass way to go. Shit, this is a total white out, I can’t even see the car in front of me! From now on trips to Buffalo are only for good weather! This is so not safe, this is SO! NOT! SAFE! I think that’s a truck up there, careful. Is that a truck? I think that’s a truck. Oh fuck, that’s a truck! It’s on it’s side, it’s flipped! Swerve, swerve!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!
Soooo, yeah. That sucked. By the time I got home and into bed I was already counting down until my next vacation.
On the plus side, Southwest Airlines gave me a spiffy credit for the whole ordeal, enough to cover a flight! Totally worth the hassle, I’d say, especially since within-US flights not around Christmas are pretty reasonably priced, so as soon as I’ve got time saved up at work again I’m getting my ass back on a plane.
In the meantime, here’s some highlights from the holidays:
Lovin' up on my man.
Josh being manly with his tools. Haha. Tools.
The dogs were less than thrilled with the decision to reno out the carpeting.
New wood floors are confusing!
Visiting rad friends in their rad kitchen
Not our puppy 😦
My dad sent a Leafs jersey down as a Christmas gift - woot!
Josh took me out to choose a scrapbook for our photos...
...and even helped me put it together!
I got us matching paw-holding otter shirts! (Which other than this one photo op, will not be worn simultaneously - because there's cute and then there's revolting.)
What’s the deal with the otter shirts? I saw them on icanhascheezburger as a shirt-of-the-day just before I left Toronto and HAD to have them. So I bought them on the spot and had them shipped down to us to arrive just before Christmas as a surprise! Why otters? Because Josh had sent me this video a while earlier to make me smile:
No seriously, if you know, please raise your hands, because it seems like days and weeks have gone by with me standing here going “wait, what?”
I’ve been super busy, once again. I figured I should probably fix up the spare room in my apartment given that I’d nailed up a bunch of wood and left the cardboard tile ceiling a little on the saggy side. I shanghied a handy pair of friends into helping me last weekend and then tagged along on their trip to the Junction Arts Festival for honey-and-lavender ice cream, random fridge art and copious amounts of bureks and perogies. Every Saturday I’ve been at May’s for knitting and pie (one hideous cardigan finished, one super cute hoodie about halfway there!), there’s been a trip to Niagara for Talea’s wedding plans, dinners with family and a ton of baking for corporate client events. Oh yeah, and I’ve got a boyfriend to spend with too! Josh has been busy building an extra room onto his brothers house with him (today: stairs) so I try to line up my free time with his as often as I can. I haven’t even had time to do grocery shopping – and I do my groceries online! It’s been sad amounts of takeout this past week for me.
There’s been zero time for blogging, or even time for structured thought on anything I’d like to blog about. So what do I do when I don’t have time to type? I post pictures. Much, much less time consuming.
Since I haven’t had time for groceries, I thought it would be good to remind myself that yes, at times, I have consumed real food. In that spirit, here are some pictures of me eating whilst on my not-so-recent vacation – have I mentioned I’m already in dire need of another? Also included are pictures of me about to eat, having just eaten, or generally in the midst of an eating type environment. You can’t visit the south without taking a bite, and Josh and I do love our delicious meal times.
Obsoive!
Eating it up at the almost-in-laws
My southern man frying up some plantains for breakfast
French toast? Or maybe Quebecois toast...
Mmm, breakfast! With a side of white trash bra.
Out for Japanese on our date night ❤
Edamame! I don't think Josh had seen them before. I have two kinds in my freezer.
We rode from dinner to the movies - even though it was in the same plaza.
So what do you say to someone you love when you haven’t seen them in a year?
Well, a lot of things. “I love you,” of course, along with “I missed you,” and “I can’t believe it’s been a whole year!” Eventually, you say things like “So where do you want to eat?”, “Nap or tv?”, and “Dude, there’s no way they can send that car over the fucking mountains!” (It was a Mythbusters marathon.)
When your vacation is less about exotic destinations and more about relishing the everyday, you find yourself at Target saying things like “I guess camo just isn’t in this year, babe” and “Seriously, I hate thong sandals! Why aren’t there any normal sandals for men?!?”
Thong sandals. Josh fucking hates them.
One thing you definitely wouldn’t expect would be to say “Get the fuck away from me!” However, I did in fact utter those or at least similar words about two thirds of the way through our visit.
I had a good reason though:
No seriously, he's like this in real life.
I didn’t want to get warts!
Can you get warts from licking a toad? I mean, he didn’t just pretend to lick it or barely touch it with the tip of his tongue. I know right there it looks like he’s faking and only licking his thumb, but trust me, he full on licked the toad. In fact, there was enough tongue-to-toad direct contact to realize that toads aren’t just slimey, they’re dirty. He spat for about a full minute trying to get the dirt and grit off his tongue before drowning the taste with beer.
*insert American beer joke here*
Then what does he do? Tries to kiss me.
Oh hells no! I don’t want your warts, get away! I squirmed and wriggled and refused to let him kiss me, loudly proclaiming “It’s okay, my best friend is engaged to a doctor! I need to check with him first!” There was no way I was going to end up coming back and having to explain “Oh these? No, no, it’s not herpes. It’s actually far more ridiculous. My boyfriend licked a toad.”
Naturally, he thought I was hilarious and took great delight in occasionally leaning over for a smooch and seeing how close he could get before I remembered that he was covered in toady, toady gross. You’d think I wouldn’t forget, seeing that it had *just* happened. Right, did I mention I was also drinking beer? He got pretty close a couple of times. Plus, he’s my man after all – it’s not easy not kissing him!
Eventually, though, my beer ran out. And so I did what any miffed girlfriend does – I grabbed his.
Mid-swig, the smirk on his face caught my attention.
“Darlin’?” he says.
“What?” I snip back.
“Now tell me, how is that any different from kissing me?”
“….”
*smirk*
“…. …. …..Well, fuck.”
After a raucous round of pointing and laughing, I grumbled “Oh fine, go brush your teeth.”
So…as it turns out, you can’t get warts in your mouth from licking a toad. Or maybe you can and we just didn’t. Or at least I didn’t, and Josh hasn’t mentioned anything to me about any toad-related regrets other than a mouthful of dirt. But I was seriously grossed out, and wouldn’t kiss him anymore until after he brushed his teeth. For once, his habit of brushing about seven times a day came in handy.
Still, if our kids turn out like this, I won’t be held responsible.
Ok, I know you’ve all been just dying for some vacation details, so at long last, here we go! This will be one of many installments of our adventures.
It makes sense to start at the beginning, which in fact was way back in April – when we picked the general timeframe for my visit and I started the months long scrambling to get all the details sorted out. I had the paperwork to get my passport already printed off and ready for fine-comb scrutiny. It probably took about three attempts at filling in all the little boxes and squares and ‘this only applies to you if you were born at this spot before this date’ spaces before I was certain it could be brought in for government inspection without meeting instant rejection for having a signature go outside the lines. When it came time to choose which government line to brave for a morning, I chose a location far from the centre of the city. Less popular, less people, less lining up, less chance of me snapping at someone who controls where I’m allowed to travel.
It went off without a hitch, and within another few weeks I had my passport. My SUPER regimented, no glasses, no smiling, no frowning, no expression whatsoever passport. I look like a disaffected yuppie and it cost me $8. And that was just for the pictures, nevermind the little blue folded book itself.
Next came picking the dates for flights and hotels, trying to maximize our alloted vacation time between weekends and matters-of-convenience for getting myself to the necessary airports. As soon as the dates were picked, the tickets purchased and the hotel reserved, it was just a matter of waiting. Shopping, and waiting.
FINALLY June rolled around. The last two weeks crawled and dragged by until one morning I strolled into work with a bright smile on my face. I made no bones about announcing my state of mind to the world at large: “People, I am not here today. Technically I am not here tomorrow, as I will be on a plane to visit my boyfriend in warm climates for the first time in one year. But rest assured, I am not here today either. Is the coffee machine broken? My good sir, I do not care.”
The next morning my mother picked me up for the drive to Buffalo, as it was $100 cheaper to cross the border in a car instead of flying directly out of Toronto. The navigation was a bit rough. Next time I’ll get the directions myself instead of leaving it up to her to leave up to her boyfriend to leave to the last minute resulting in no more than a poorly printed map and handwritten, somewhat incorrect instructions. However, we got there. And after connecting issue-free in Detroit, I got there.
There is here
Josh’s brother Nate drove him to the airport to pick me up, and dropped us off at the hotel where Josh had checked in earlier. In we rolled with our luggage, up the elevator, down the hall, and, well I’ll leave it at that for at least a few hours 😉
We hadn’t stopped to eat dinner, so later that evening I was starving. I figured we could go to a bar or restaurant, but anything nearby was closed by ten. Even with the scooter Josh had already brought to the hotel, the closest source of food was the SuperWalmart. We decided on a late night junk food/grocery shopping spree. I’m not usually a big fan of Walmart or its inhabitants, but I figure when in Rome…(or the South…)
It's ok, Talea was at the gym...
The next morning, or maybe the following morning (I may have lost track of time…), I asked Josh to take me to Ihop for breakfast. He agreed, but was disappointed to learn that it’s somewhat of a misnomer. The “international” house of pancakes is at most a “national” house unless they have them in Mexico – we sure don’t have them in Canada, or at least not that I’ve seen. I in fact did not have pancakes, which I have not been able to stomach since a rather disastrous event with plane food many moons ago. Nor did I get waffles, which I’m told would have been an acceptable substitute. I got a strawberry crepe, which was damn good. I also had a lovely eyeful of Ihop patronage, and the new knowledge that some folk do in fact eat fried chicken for breakfast and encourage their kids to do the same.
yeah...
Our breakfast was followed by much in the way of napping (sort of), to fill the hour or so one is supposed to wait before post-eating aquatic adventures. Yes, the hotel had a pool. But between the hot sun and the small family taking up most of the water, we opted to stay indoors. The pool was small, and it wasn’t so much about there being a crowd as there being just one family – we weren’t really in the mood for inevitable tourist small talk. Luckily, there were recreational activities to be found inside as well.
Word, they had a jacuzzi!
We also went out to dinner at the Outback (which I think we do have in Canada, but I haven’t been in a while), and clothes shopping at Target. It may seem mundane to spend a vacation going to Walmart and Target, but we never get to do these little every day things together. Getting to spend an hour trying on shorts and lamenting the lack of non-thong sandals for men is a rare opportunity!
Alas, the weekend could not last forever, and we only stayed at the hotel for a few days. So after 60 some odd hours of our shagedelic fest of sugar, saunas and shopping, we packed up our bags and waited for our ride to Nate and Sami’s house to stay with them for the rest of our vacation. The first thing we did all together was head on over to their parents house for a family dinner with what I like to refer to as my ‘almost in-laws’. They love to take pictures at any and all opportunity, flattering or not…
Thought bubble says "Hey what are you - "
Photobombed, and still adorable
And of course, we took plenty of pictures ourselves.
Totally worth the wait!
That’s all for this first installment, the adventures continue soon! Coming up next, we’ve got killer dogs, date night, strippers, licking (not to be confused with stripper licking), and other fun.
You will rarely catch me in as good a mood as I am right now, so soak it all in while you can. I am back from my vacation, refreshed, relaxed, loved up, and ready to tackle the rest of the year until Josh and I can be together full time. Last year’s vacation had too many chunks of time cut away by his work schedule, and the travelling part of it was horrendous. He also had a court date the day after my return, and none of the legal shit had been sorted out yet – our future, while undoubtedly involving each other, was filled with uncertainty, obstacles, and plans kept in limbo by forces beyond our control. It was all a little scary, and next to impossible to will myself back on the bus to go home.
This year was different. With no more court to take up sick days, he had the full week off to spend time with me. Ten solid days of loving, sleeping, eating, singing, visiting, shopping, laughing, cooking, kissing, dancing, drinking, wii-ing, and just generally being. A proper vacation. Even when it came time to leave, I was still feeling great.
The next steps to getting together are slowly forming a solid groundwork – talking to lawyers, looking at colleges, setting loose dates and vague to-do lists. Nothing is set in stone yet, of course. But on the way back to the airport, I was feeling alright. Instead of last years dread, anxiety, and futile resentment towards space, time, and other human beings, this year I was nothing short of psyched. Instead of thoughts of “How long until we see each other again?” and “What’s going to happen next?” it was more like “Ok, I’m going to go get things ready up in Canada with the paperwork and the research and the phone calls, and I’ll see you soon! Like for reals this time! Holy crap, woot!”
So yes, I would say it was a good vacation. And with ten days of “What do you want to do today Napolean?” (although I never got around to actually saying that, but now I really wish I had), there was much in the way of fun and adventure. You’ll be regaled with tales for weeks to come, and pictures of course. But for now, while my fridge is still empty and my bags still unpacked, here are some brief highlights:
– Late night grocery shopping at Walmart!
– Confederate flag bikinis and hot tubs!
– We went on the radio! Details and clips coming soon!
– Great adventures in American dining establishments and their patrons!
– Licking inappropriate objects! Surprise, it’s not the strippers!
All that and more, but right now I’m starving because I spent last night getting piss drunk with Talea and didn’t get groceries. It was totally worth it.
It’s starting to hit me. Our vacation is almost here.
Don’t get me wrong, June is still sucking so far. The morons are worming their way out of the woodwork faster than I can squish them appropriately and diplomatically deal with them. At the office, on the train, out on the street. Tourist season is upon us and nobody will get the hell out of my way. I still want to knock a few people down. But it just dawned on me last night that in less than one week I’ll be on my way to the airport.
Holy crap.
I have so much to do! I’ve been so busy just trying to keep my head on straight and not walk in front of an oncoming bus that I haven’t actually sat down and, oh, for example – packed. I have bags of new clothes littered about the place, a new suitcase full of paper stuffing and packing tape from whence it came at the mall, and thats pretty much it. New bra? Still at the store, waiting to be tried on thirteen million ways. New tiles to put down so my landlords don’t have to venture into my bedroom? Still mostly in the box. I did manage to rearrange the apartment to my greater liking, but now I’ve got more crap to throw out, and yet more tiles to put down where furniture used to be. Also, I still have to get the um…waxing…done.
OH DEAR GOD ALMIGHTY, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THEY DO TO YOU???
Yeah, I’m a little bit scared about that part, but I’ll suck it up.
I also have to go get travel insurance. I’m going to the states, after all. I don’t want to have to pay for a broken arm with a leg. (And of course, if you don’t get insurance, you’ll get hit by a bus, because thats how it works.) It’s not expensive, and only takes five minutes of your time at the bank, but really? When the hell did I start having to worry about insurance?
So I’m spinning around in circles right now just trying to remember everything I have to remember. I couldn’t find a decent clip or even pic on the internet, but does anyone remember that episode of the Simpsons where there’s a fire drill at the power plant? And one guy in the background just kind of panics, running in a circle going “fire, fire, fire, fire, fire, fire, fire, fire…”? I kind of feel like that – trying so hard to keep track of everything I have to do that I’m not actually getting anything done. I haven’t even dyed my hair! Honestly, this skunk stripe is getting ridiculous.
And as for Josh? I haven’t seen him for more than a half hour here and there late at night for about a week now. We’ll be staying at his brother and sister-in-law’s place (who I like to call my almost-in-laws, have I mentioned how awesome these kids are? I heart them) and they’re converting the car-port into a spare room. Red tape abounded for so long that they only recently got the go ahead to start building, and so they’re busting ass just about round the clock to get it done. The time apart iss rough on Josh and I, being so used to spending most of almost every evening together, but it’ll be worth it once I get down there. Poor Josh is seriously going to need this vacation after all that work!
At least he has time off from his job this year. He had to work through the week during our last vacation, so it’ll be more than awesome to actually get to spend so much time together. And unfathomably, after how long it took to get here, it’s now just days away. I’ll just have to not bite my nails down to nothing in the meantime while watching the clock!
So I was over at 2LD a long ass time ago, but sometimes I’m lazy and most times Josh is very busy the other day. She had a meme going on with letters, and I thought “Well. I’m just going to have to get in on that.” It involves having a letter picked out for you, and then fulfilling the task of listing about 10 items you love that start with that letter. Foregoing the general instruction of asking her for a randomly assigned letter, I pretty much planted my flag in the letter E and asked her to instead assign one to Josh. It’s mad fun times when Josh and I co-write, but he’s usually so busy with work, legal matters, and other things necessary to get our asses together. So when I’m craving some blog-world man-attention, I find memes are a good fun way to have some kicks without actually having to, you know, think of our own ideas 😛
She assigned him a K, which I feel is nicely paired with the E so clearly designed for yours truly. Let’s see what the results are!
Emerald says: Firstly, how much do I love that both of our letters could also be in reference to drug usage?
Josh says:
Hey now, don’t give away any hints as to what I’m putting on my list dammit!
Ha, okay, I’ll be quiet. Although I wouldn’t think anything like that would be surprising coming from you.
So uh, you want to start off this list of awesome crap starting with E and K or should I?
You can go first.
K is for Ketamine, which get’s cats high, and sometimes people in the suburbs too.
Haha, suburbs. Your suburbs are nothing like ours. Our suburbs suck. You have to drive around looking for kids hanging out near parks instead of just going up the street like sensible adults. In that theme, I will say Ecstasy. The drug itself can be either awesome or rat poison, depending on the mood of whoever cooked it up in their bathtub. Or I could get all emo and romantic, but who would I be kidding?
K is for Knights, because they wear armor and chop people apart for a living. Not to mention the fact that they kill dragons, which are universally accepted as the most badass monsters ever to walk the face of the planet, and as a reward they bang damsels all over the countryside. Knights rule.
There are also many modern day knights who are pretty cool. Anthony Hopkins is a knight. E is for Emerald, cause firstly I rule, knighted or not. And they make pretty good jewels too, I guess.
He’s not shit compared to Lemmy from Motorhead, he should really be a knight. Or Jason Statham. So uh, what else starts with a K? This is going to be hard, I suppose we should have put some thought into our lists instead of winging it like we always do.
K is for Killers, who kill people to death. Because without killers there would be no horror movies, and without horror movies where would I get my gratuitous gore and nudity?
That is a very good and also philosophical point. How would we recognize or enjoy what is good, or even know what it really is if there were no bad with which to contrast it? We need crazies and psychopaths. Just, you know, on someone else’s block.
E = mc2, because I don’t have a ‘squared’ button, and also knowledge is cool. I’m also more of a fan of the scientific mathematical explanation of things. At least in terms of the universe and energy, and all that jazz.
What? That wasn’t my point at all, I was giving a big old salute to all those badass killers out there, mainly so I wouldn’t plagiarise Maddox from his alphabet of manliness when he said K was for kicking ass. (damn you maddox!)
Oh. Reference fail.
It wasn’t a reference, but I wasn’t what was good by pointing out the bad or whatever you said, i was actually hailing the bad.
*Josh and Em both take a moment to agree that Josh totally failed on that last sentence, and then continue onwards*
You should read my A – Z encyclopedia of serial killers.
Alrighty, K is for Krusty, cause I know how much you would felate the Simpsons if they were real.
Dude, you have no idea how much I was already thinking that. In fact, I’m going to go ahead and say E is for “Exxxxcellent” in all it’s many forms.
Right on, Well K is for Karate and Kung-Fu, the holy mediums which introduced the western world to martial arts through cheesy ass movies like the Flying Guillotine.
I love that we’re going to watch Kung-Fu movies in bed.
And act out Kung Fu movies in bed, did I mention that?
You did. My general priciple is “don’t leave any marks I can’t cover up or explain easily the next day.”
None of our moans wil synch up with out mouths.
Haha, that too! E is for encyclopedia, because I’m a nerd who will read through an encyclopedia or dictionary for kicks. Also because my encyclopedia, as mentioned, is exclusively about crime and serial killers.
That helps I’m sure. K is for Kalashnikov’s automatic rifle model of year 1947, AKA the AK-47. Thanks to Hollywood this is globally known as the single coolest rifle ever made, and thanks to human violence, the single most popular rifle on the planet (I think). It resists wear and tear, fires in almost any conditions, and is simple enough for a seven year old child to be taught how to dismantle, clean, reassemble, and fire it.
Well shit, I was going to say elephants, but that just won’t cut it after that. Let me get my damn dictionary. Encyclopedia, whatever…
Shit, there are only two entries for “E” in this thing, and I can’t say I’m a huge fan of ‘execution’. I’m going to have to go with ‘Entertainment”. I would go crazy if I didn’t have something constantly distracting me from the chatter in my head. Thanks, television!
Alright, K is for the KKK, the most hilarious hate group between the Third Reich and Al Quaeda.
I would call them the most poorly dressed, but whatever. Seriously, did someone actually look in the mirror and think “Sheets, yeah, that’ll be our thing!” That’s like trying to start a hardcore violent gang and thinking “Fuschia, yes!!!”
E is for eating, I’m a pretty big fan of that.
White is such a bad color choice for night stealth, and not to mention how dirty you must get the robes during lynchings. And who voted on the dunce hat? WTF?
I know!!! The hat, why??? Ugh. Anyways, your turn.
Ok, K is for Krokus who coverd one of the koolest sogs of all time, Ballroom Blitz.
Oh no way, I love Ballroom Blitz! The first time I heard it was in Wayne’s World, when Crucial Taunt sang it.
*five minute interlude for music appreciation time*
Hell yeah! \m/> <\m/
That was pretty good, though my favourite will always be Tia Carrere.
Of course, how could she not be. I’m stretching for K’s here shug.
Yeah, I’m still stuck on elephants. How far along are we? Count for me honey, I’ve had several glasses of wine.
I have done eight, you have done seven.
I’m going to go with Electricity. I’d be pretty fucked without it. Of course, once you get here we could live in a shack in the woods with a well for all I care. But for right now, I’m pretty fucked when I knock my power out. Unless whoever that person is nearby who is stupid enough to have an unsecured network open happens to be online.
Eight now.
Ok, so two more. Ooh, eccentricity! I has it!
I want everything in this picture. Consider it a 10 year goal.
Ok, let me go with Katherine Heigl, because I totally had a TV crush on her back when she was the stuck up bitch on Roswell, waaaaaay before Knocked up or Scrubs.
I don’t think she was on Scrubs…
*It is eventually determined that these are from another, less hilarious medically-themed show. Probably ER.*
Ha, I told you she wasn’t on scrubs. Are you thinking of the other blonde chick on scrubs? Elliot?
Negative, I was thinking of Heather Graham.
Cause Eliot’s cute but not super hot. But whatever, and either way that’s an E. But I don’t like her enough to use that as my last E choice. And I’m going to have to say a full negative to Heather Graham. She’s terrible in everything she’s ever done, ever, and at least Katherine Heigl has some boobage.
So a threesome with Heather Graham is out then?
Unless a threesome involves me punching her in the face. Why can’t we have Katherine Heigl?
Sold! To the lady with the big knockers!
Sweet, that’s totally me.
Thinking of ten K words that are cool is really hard. I’m going over all the things in my head now. Kalvin and Hobbes, Katterpillar heavy machinery, spaniKopida, everything I can think of starts with a damn C. Wait, no genius struck me at the last second. K stands for Klingons eating Klondike bars, because I fucking dare you to think of something cooler that starts with a K, especially after drinking rum.
That is a pretty cool visual. And as I’m headed for the last of a bottle of wine, I’m going to go ahead and cop out with “Existence.” It’s pretty bad-ass right now.
True dat, much better than that whole non-existence phase you went through. I found it to be much adieu about nothing, hmmm, jes?
Well I could also say “Existentialism” but let’s face it, they’re annoying. And right now, the extent of my existence is sitting on a couch in my underwear finishing off a bottle of wine while my hot boyfriend who’s willing to switch countries to be with me stares at my boobs. I’m thinking that’s a-ok my friend.
Me too, we’re going to have a lot of fun existing.
Alright, well what say we sign off this here blog and get to some long-distance practicing?
*wiggles eyebrows seducitvely*
Ok that sounds good to me, This blog was brought to you by the letters E and K. Have a good evening ladies and gentlemen.
Okay everyone, remember how I told you to bitchslap your computers? We’re changing course – start knocking on every variety of wood you can find (short of injuring male loved ones for the sake of double entendre). Feel free to use pressed fiberboard, paneling, and exes.
The internet…waaaaaaaaiiiit forrrrrrr iiiiiiit…is back!
I have a new modem. It’s spiffy and shiney and new. And somehow, through a miraculous alignment of the cosmos (angry fist shake) I managed to get it up and running. It’s supposed to take ten minutes. It took me two hours, and I didn’t even have any problems. It was just very…involved. Vista shines here, with the constant approving of every goddamned step, and having to restart every time some new aspect gets installed (such as the piles of anti-virus – oh internet, why are you so dangerous?). Download this executable file, launch said executable file, install feature, loading, loading, loading. It was just a meticulous, pissy little process that had me sitting on the edge of my seat all night.
But finally, finally, I have the internet.
Wireless internet!!!!
Me! Technologically stunted and maimed, I somehow figured out how to appease the digital deities and actually got my wireless working. I’m not covered in cables! I can sweep my floor without meticulously unplugging, draping, carefully arranging (or just ignoring it and nibbling my lip over the bad-housekeeper guilt). I don’t trip over things at 2am when that last bottle of juice announces itself as a poorly timed idea!
It.
Is.
Fan.
Tastic.
Now let’s not get carried away. This month, overall, is still sucking the big one. Work is a pain in the ass, and every douchebag and their ugly sister seem out to get me. They’re filming underbudgeted movies on my block and cluttering up the traffic. Starbucks has discontinued the only vegetarian breakfast sandwhich. Josh is hard at work both on the job and getting some renovations done around his brothers house for my visit, so between that and the rest of life we’re often pressed for time. I’ve promised May that I won’t use Limewire, and so I’m dying without my instant fixes and guilty pleasures. I still don’t have tiles on half the floor, and my futon is becoming lumpier by the day. Also, neither tax nor bonus season were as kind to me as I’ve grown accustomed. Boourns.
But this, I will celebrate. This one teeny, tiny technological victory, as brief as I realize it could be, I will take it and run with it.
Thumbs up internet, I’m back in your grill. Now let’s finish suckerpunching the rest of this shitty month and get on with my damn vacation, alright?
As you may recall, Josh and I celebrated our one-year anniversary of dating on March 11th. Unfortunately, the cosmos conspired against us to mark the occasion with frustration and general technological fuck-uppery as opposed to flowery romance. In fact, we have still yet to exchange our cute little love-projects. This displeases me greatly. I’m generally speaking more the kind of gal who appreciates a good trip to the liquor and/or candy store (please, somebody combine the two!) or a night in cuddling on the couch to celebrate such occasions, rather than the whole dinner and flowers shebang. But even that’s hard to do when you’re 800 miles apart and the damn sentient videophone picks the worst days of the week to frankly, fuck with your shit.
Fine then universe, you want to play that game? Do you? Oh yeah? Well you may have screwed up March 11th, but there’s another significant date coming up very shortly. I won’t tell you what date specifically for fear you’ll mess that up too, but the general time frame is mid-June.
Last June, after having been madly in love for some time already, Josh and I finally met face-to-face. And yes, it was awesome. And yes, it was very difficult to leave. It still blows my mind to think back and go ‘holy shit, that was a year ago!’ One year! What the hell???
Unfortunately, that also means it’s been about a year since we’ve gotten some good and proper bedroom action. Too much info? Well, sorry. If you’ve been following along here, you know Josh and I live far apart – so in terms of sexy times, there’s really only one logical conclusion: it’s hard to get some from across the room never mind across the border. This will not do! Poor Josh! Poor me! If you haven’t been following along and this happens to be your first glance at this page…well, now you know.
So in light of the gods-of-tech being general wankers as of late, I’d really rather not leave this particular upcoming anniversary to chance. I’m getting on a damn plane and getting my ass down there. That’s right, it’s vacation time again! One whole year! It’s time, people.
(may not be flying on this actual plane)
Wooooo!!!!! Naturally, there will be many more exciting details to share as we get closer to the date, like accomodations, places to go, people to see, and etc. After last years adventure with failing luggage, I think the first thing I’m going to do is buy myself a nice pink manhandling-resistance suitcase, and maybe a matching dress.
Look out America, I’m coming to get you! Or at least one of you 😉
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800 Miles 