bargains galore

I know many people experience it as an frustrating outdoor activity nightmare that involves ribbons of frozen snot, painfully cold extremities and crushing exhaustion, but to me there are few things better than cross-country skiing. Because I love frozen snot.

On Sunday, the sun was out, the trees around us golden columns reaching for blue sky and my skis were perfectly waxed (which means, if you don't know, that I got to guzzle from the magical cocktail of control and speed).

About two hours into the woods, we glided on a back-country trail past yet another frozen little beaver pond framed in cedars and old silvery dead pines. We stopped for a moment to rest and look around. I could hear nothing but my own breathing. I watched a pebble-sized clump of snow drift down through the cold clean air from a nearby treetop.

"You know what?" my pal said.

"What?" I replied.

"The problem here is, we should be in a mall, shopping today. I mean think of it. Where are the bargains? WE ARE NOT SAVING ANY MONEY."

----

And only because I can't stop raving about CBC's Wiretap, look, they posted a few more audio clips!! And do my eyes deceive me or do they promise to add more? Now if only they'd offer it in some format other than the absolute shite known as RA, I'd be in heaven.

Honestly, Wiretap is so good that by the end of the half hour I feel like I'm in love, but I'm not sure with who.

sharing the love

I have to say, this website is always funny, but this post was super excellent.

In other news, my truuuuuuuuucks are on their way! Get your own trucky goodness, contact the gheetar-wielding bourbon-swilling mega-talent Hooker. He has more mad painting skilz in his floating Doberman ball than I have in my... ummmmmm... uhhhhhh... (mind goes blank).

Here's a Bob the Angry Flower cartoon to enjoy instead of reading failed analogies from me.

tattoo

I don't have one, but I know what it will be of, if I ever decide to get one.

It will be of a shark eating a lion fighting a bear holding a flower.

I'll have it done on my lower back and it will be so sexy.

Then I'll have the words "shark" "lion" "bear" and "flower" written in Aramaic across my breasts, only the Aramaic letters will be dripping blood, and black oil.

Then I'll have red and orange flames shooting up out of my bellybutton toward my throat, like they were being shot from a flame thrower. The flames could intertwine with the bleeding, oily Aramaic if required.

And maybe I'd also have flames coming out of the back of my pants too, but now we're getting expensive.

----
UPDATE:

This makes me love the intarwebs even more. I don't think I can post it here because it belongs to Giddy Girlie, (a new blog for me to read!)... but I want to say THANK YOU for making it. I hope it does cheer up Erin, whose website got slipped some roofies by the new Blogger and was made to do things she never, ever wanted it to do, even though she seems like a pretty adventurous gal otherwise.

ready, set, go!

Last Friday I went for a beer and then sushi (we got hungry) with a friend who I haven't seen in a long time.

I bet him that he would fall in love within three months. This is a silly sort of thing to bet on, not like the time I bet that studies would show 90% of Grand Am drivers are aggressive assholes. But if he's in love in three months AND she's in love back, he has to take me out for a tallboy of Belle Gueule. I am so going to win this one.

abfab

Patsy: What time is it?
Edina: Seven thirty, darling.
Patsy: [pauses] That means nothing to me...



(Thanks to K for reminding me of this.)

movies I would own, if I believed in that kind of thing

Personally, I'm alarmed (and kind of turned off) when someone brags about their huge DVD collection. Why? Oh, here's why:

1) How many of those will you actually watch more than once?

2) Is it really worth the cost and the clutter and the plastic to be able to just sit on your ass at home and say, for example, "I want to watch King Kong RIGHT NOW" and just pop it in? Is it really such a pain to go get it from the video store? Or even order it to your house using Zip (Canada) or Netflix (States)?

3) If the answers to #2 are sincere YESes, I think: Honey? Maybe it's time for you to go out and see some live music or something.

AND FINALLY:

4) My grandfather collected VHS films. All the classics. He had a special shelving unit constructed to house them. Trust me. Collecting movies is a BAD IDEA.


Anyway, there are a few movies that I love and cherish so dearly that if I WERE the type to own DVDs, I would want to own these just to feel them close to me and near at hand, even in cold, sharp, wasteful, soon-to-be obsolete DVD form; (although even then, it's still a stretch):

1) Brazil
2) Babette's Feast
3) The Colour of Paradise
4) Dr. Strangelove
5) and MAYBE Spinal Tap, or Waiting for Guffman

You?

gittin' things DONE

IM convo with my very sweet friend B, who you must understand, is not nearly as disgusting as me, but knew I needed a very special kind of celebration when I recently finished this one massive project (which was like an albatross around my neck I swear).

Roo: fucking finished it
there will still be a bit left
but it's basically done
FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

B:You need to do something symbolic like take the draft out in the backyard
and pound a railroad spike into it

Roo: fuck ya

B: before setting the whole shebang on fire

Roo: sorry I'm so foul mouthed
hey wait, can I put out the fire with my own PISS?!

B: and mailing the charred remains of your sledge hammer, which you had thrown on the fire
With a dirty note included
Maybe you could both pee on the fire and pee on the note to seal the envelope

Roo: oh, that's a great idea!!!
YOU SIR
ARE
S
M
R
T

B: I love it when a plan comes together

I literally, totwally have that same shirt.

Friend in UK: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AO1HEyxjlNA

Roo: hey darlin
I ACTUALLY OWN THAT VERY SAME PLAID SHIRT

Friend in UK: haha
did you buy it in an auction of monty python memorabilia?
ow r u?*

Roo: oh, good! I just watched Spinal Tap
fucking love that movie
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AhVWJgIzftE

Friend in UK: my god. is there anything more depressing in the entire universe than the comments on ANY fucking youtube page


----
*During the credits of "Waiting for Guffman", Christopher Guest's character Corky St. Claire memorably announces that he's working on his British accent, and demonstrates by saying "ow are oo?" in a completely nasal American accent. And can anyone get me those "My Dinner With Andre" action figures?

"It's not just the end of the world, it's Ptarmageddon!!"

So spake my friend, Blackbelt Barrister, who pointed something out to me that must likewise be brought to the attention of my tiny but apparently enthusiastic readership.

Canada, this great land of ours, is full of -- and yields unto our eyes -- many wonders.

This time, one of those wonders is Ptarmageddon!!!11!1!!!!

"Research scientist and amateur sleuth Robyn Devara is looking forward to a trip to the Yukon with her boyfriend, Kelt Roberson, when he tells about the bloody murder of a reclusive ptarmigan researcher."

I just can't figure out if this is a joke. (No offense to the author.)

More or less on-topic, I grew up watching the fabulous Hinterland Who's Who public service announcements. American and international readers will not understand how affecting that flute line is (to me).

So without further ado, I give you, THE WILLOW PTARMAGEDDON!!! I mean, ptarmigan. Ahem:



I'll see if I can dig up a pic I have of a ptarmigan from one of my trips north, doing its best "why you see me? I camoflaged [sic]" impression.

Stay tuned. And if you are familiar with the HWW clips, what's your favourite?

-------
UPDATE

This IM from Blackbelt Barrister, who was on exactly the same wavelength, apparently:

You could have quite a fruitful discussion on whether Canadian literature is the most parochial on earth
not to say a lot isn't very good
have you seen the You Tube video about spiders that is a mock Hinterland Who's who?

So here it is:

and I'm in the front row, and I'm hammered drunk

Best things about the weekend:

1. Friday evening - I come home to two guests who have let themselves in with their key: Rock and her hilarious aunt who I love. We drink wine, order in Thai, drink wine, bake cookies and drink wine.
   
2. Saturday morning - Pancakes from scratch with berries and maple syrup. Then, we solve all the world's problems! Sort of.
3. Saturday, 2 pm. We are still in our pajamas. Rock suggests we drink champagne with strawberries and do tarot readings. OK!
   
4. Ballad of Ricky Bobby, which made us both feel precocious and full of wonderment. Or maybe it was the bourbon. Which Rock poured, saying "I don't really know how much is 'too much', so this [a couple of inches] OK?"

By the end of Saturday I felt like I'd had a whole weekend's worth of weekendiness, so it was okay that Sunday was all work and kind of sucked.

------
UPDATE: Oh, and there was that whole thing of my IWF 4 Evr getting a new baby! I lost the baby-birth-time pool, but I won a second International Nephew. Or something. (I haven't cleared this with the parents yet.) So congratulations to my IWF 4 Evr and his little family! And Powerade is delicious! (If you look at his pics, you will see that his wife Magda and little boys are gorgeous.)

champagne tonight, and I mean the good shit

So the best news in the whole wide world is that Little Rock, Arkansas is out of Sudan. I know an enormous Sisyphean amount of work still exists to be done there, but give the girl a break. Who goes to Darfur voluntarily? Um, as far as I know? My friend, and George Clooney. (Unfortunately - for both of them, I think - not together.)

OK, there have been a few others besides those two. But Entertainment Tonight is not going to cover the year of her life that my friend put into heartbreaking, deeply exhausting and spirit-shattering work there, so I'll just write this bit about it here.

I am proud of her, and though I don't know them, I am proud of all the people still over there trying to push that boulder back up even though it was someone else's trickery that started it rolling. Even when nothing seems to be working terribly well, isn't it heartening and inspiring to know that someone out there is working steadily, even without much hope, against the madness?

We're not talking about it yet (and maybe never will, it's her call). I'm just pouring bourbon down her gullet and feeding her good food and tucking her into bed if she needs a nap and oh my god laughing at her jokes because can you believe it? After all that, and arriving in this town a shell of a woman, she is still one of the funniest cleverest kindest wackiest people I know.

you too can join this exclusive club!

Someone asked me how to "get on the list" of people I call on to make my life fun when I'm bored and overworked.

It's easy. Talk in silly voices, swear a lot, be willing to tell me how you're grooming your pubic hair these days, or send me home-made booze for Christmas. I thought it was obvious.

(Note: to protect the innocent, the above do not necessarily correlate specifically to any of the people on the previously-posted list. These are merely helpful suggestions.)

In regards to how I'm feeling after a weekend of working too much and sleeping badly, a friend of mine said to me today, as he walked past my cubicle where I was sitting staring blankly at my screen, "I love when you get that Terry Schiavo look."

(Ooh, too soon?)

I have been working too much.

That's all. I just wanted to let the world (aka my seven steady readers) know. It's just been in this last week, after half my family skipped town and the fun died.

I'm working right now. That's why this post is so boring. Because it's an uninspired procrastination post.

So, ahem. Time to call in the troops.

Mike, send me some stories to read and think about.

Grace, call me up from the States and tell me about your awesome love life.

Other Mike, come drink some bourbon with me, then we'll go for a walk and we'll discuss the pros and cons of being patient with this new one, who actually sounds really good for you.

Rock, move back to this town for god's sake, then make me stop working and then we'll both put on ironic slutty hipster titty-tops and go dancing. (Ironic because we're neither slutty nor hipsters.)

OK, maybe a bit slutty.

Hmm. I think I love the word SLUT.

(Back to work.)

post-holiday hysteria

What is wrong with me that I find this incredibly funny? I find it funnier and funnier all the time. At first I thought, "Ha. That's sort of cute and weird." And now, after repeated viewings, it makes me giddy. Maybe this job is finally getting to me.



Thanks to the Dude for sending it, and for finding it at The Poorman Institute, where "the editors" basically post "political rants and links to kittens" (according to the Dude).

cold feet

I tossed and turned last night. Not because of the ice shelves breaking off (though that's horrifying). Not because the world/politics/people seem to be totally fucked (the on-going atrocities of Darfur, Iraq, Afghanistan, Disney Land/World/Land, Rona "Who Gives a Crap About the Spotted Owl" Ambrose, etc.). Not because I am galloping toward death along with the rest of you. No, I tossed and turned because my feet got really cold and I couldn't quite wake up enough to DO something about it, like find a heat source, put on some socks (or hat), or have a quick hot shower.

I recall peering at my clock at 1:58 AM and thinking something vaguely along the lines of "There are arctic ice shelves where my feet once were. Perhaps they will cleave off and drift away and flood the city, and in the morning, I will wade to the bus stop on bloody knee-stumps."

WHO SAYS MOST PERSONAL BLOGS ARE FULL OF BANAL SHIT? WHO!? This is important stuff, folks.

"You had some nice details."

This is great. Maybe you already saw it over at Dooce, which is where I found it.

And if that isn't your style, maybe this is. LeVar Burton! Red plastic jock strap! Huge spikey 80s hair! (Talk about NICE DETAILS, baby.)

another glass of headache please

Although it's terribly adolescent to list what you've imbibed:

- several bottles of delicious Italian reds, including a finale of amarone, all of which we sniffed and discussed and enjoyed in an entirely unpretentious manner
- 5-yr old madeira (Who does this anymore? I mean really, doesn't it seem very drunk-old-aunties? Rah!)
- aged port (Yum.)

We even had a cheese course with all this for chrissakes. How decadent. How continental.

Also, we enjoyed the Dutch wonder of GEVULDE SPECULAAS. There is no other dessert for me from now on. Screw chocolate.

My brother goes back the other side of the country tomorrow. My sister and her BF* go back to Whitehorse tomorrow. I go back to whatever the hell I do tomorrow.

How've YOU been?

--
*The ones I did this trip with and this trip. I love them. And I love my brother and his GF too. I would tell you this even if I wasn't drunk on multiple glasses of red wine, madeira, and port. I swear.