March 9th 2010 · Read More · Comment(1)
Mmmm...
I’ve been checking the mail almost too often over the last few days, waiting patiently for my loot to come in. My impatience paid off today – but not in the form of handmade jewellery. Instead, there were two big ol’ envelopes I thought it might have been our T4 slips for income tax, since those were sent out three weeks ago and I talked to one of the wonderfully patient ladies from Payroll about it this very afternoon! You know, just to make me look silly. Dave informed me I was sadly mistaken. Rather than fun tax forms, the letters were both from Okanagan College and addressed to Dave. He did a year’s hard time there in 2008-2009.
The first one, much to our delight, held a cheque! Sweet! Four hundred dollars! But why? Surely they don’t just hand out money for charm and good looks. Turns out, that’s what the second letter explained. It seems that Dave won the James H. Gray Western Canadian Literary Award, which comes with a lovely little cheque. I’m pleased it wasn’t an oversized novelty cheque. Those things are difficult to get into the ATM.
Why did Dave win this prize? There are conflicting reports at the moment. The letter says it’s for non-fiction, which would mean it was for his Family Guy misogyny essay or the essay on why he’s allowed to hate Nickleback. But some information Dave found online says it’s for the top student in the writing/publishing program.
Edit: It appears the award is for being the top student! The non-fiction award is from the Writers’ Guild of Alberta.
March 8th 2010 · Read More · No Comments
A few months back, I discovered the wonder that it Etsy. It’s all about buying and selling homemade things. I particularly love the sheer amount of cool handbags that can be found there, but there’s a million other things as well. And most recently, my friend Lexi started her own store on the site! Go look! Better yet, go buy something!
March 6th 2010 · Read More · Comments(3)
Click for the full-size image!
We know we have a lot of stuff to do before April 17th. Until we picked up the wedding bands from the jewellery store today, it seemed like we had plenty of time. But now we have physical proof that this is all happening and that we better get the boat on the road.
But here you have it: our rings. Plain and simple. We bought them at the jewellery store here in Athabasca after spending the last three months looking around online to get an idea of what we liked and what we were willing to spend. Dave loved this one – which is tungsten carbide. I changed my mind repeatedly, moving from this kind of ring to something from the Turtle Love Committee and off into all sorts of things that I thought were pretty cool but would never really wear.
The best part – aside from coming in significantly under budget – is that these suckers are difficult to damage. So as long as we don’t lose them or let them roll behind the fridge, we should be okay.
The ring in the picture is Dave’s. Mine’s exactly the same, but the band is thinner.
March 4th 2010 · Read More · Comments(2)
Okay, it’s not a uni-brow baby after all. It’s a speed bump. My archenemy is a speed bump. Shut up.
The car absolutely cannot make it over this mountain of asphalt.
March 4th 2010 · Read More · Comments(2)
I bet this would be even more horrific if I were a plumber. Everything seems better when you don't know what's going on.
It wasn’t until Dave drained the sink that we discovered there was a leak in the plumbing. You know, those first moments when you don’t know why your toes suddenly feel warm and damp – and you’re fairly certain you didn’t wet yourself. But then you discover all the dish water has been transferred to the cleaning stuff under the sink, then when that can’t take any more, it rushes out, scares the cats, and turns your kitchen into an icky wading pool.
This entire operation appear to be the mother of invention, doesn’t it? You should have seen the plumbing in the previous apartment. It was all some sort of flexible rubber tubes and metal clamps. So I think this is a step up. And, on the bright side, it only took a day to get fixed. Unlike the bathroom ceiling.
February 28th 2010 · Read More · Comments(3)
We went to Edmonton on Saturday for three things. I needed a new computer desk (the current one is too small to hold both monitors), I needed new shoes (my current favourite pair are no longer appropriate for an office), and we wanted to check out one of the restaurants on the wedding dinner shortlist. And somewhere along the way, we bought Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters.
Anyway, lunch.
Zinc, in the Edmonton art gallery, hasn’t been opened that long. Some of the reviews for it haven’t been that great, but we were willing to attribute that to just having opened, and go anyway. You can check out the website here (it’s not finished yet). I quite liked the aesthetic of the place – modern, without looking like it will be overrun by people in black turtlenecks and berets at any moment. It’s black and metal and a splash of blue (and whatever’s going on with that wall).
The tables beside us. I dig the cobalt-coloured glasses.
The hostesses seemed confused by our presence, when we showed up. Maybe business casual isn’t good enough. Dave mentioned we made a reservation online. Despite no one else being there, she wasn’t able to find the reservation quickly, making us worry that it didn’t go through properly.
We were seated by the window and only had to wait about fifteen seconds for the waiter to appear. I quite liked this fellow. Friendly, attentive, but a little unsure of what he should be doing next or what he should be saying. Of course, he spilled Dave’s drink when he brought it out. That’ll throw anyone off, I think. And when he poured the beer, he poured a little bit in the glass and set the bottle down on the table. This confused us. Why not pour the whole thing? Or not pour any?
Dave, who is certainly a beer snob, always makes an effort to drink the right beer out of the right glass. For example, pilsners go in pilsner glasses. Belgian fruit beer is served in a tulip glass. Trappist ales go in chalices. If you’re going to do something, do it right. Anyway, so there’s Dave, drinking Leffe out of the same kind of glass my 7-Up is in. And he explained to the waiter that different beer is served in different glasses.
Scallops! My new favourite food!
To start, we went with scallops with the sweet potato and ginger puree. I don’t normally like radishes, but with the puree and the demi-glace, deeeelicious!
Dave ordered the Un-burger, an elk and caribou patty covered in caramelised onions and mushrooms, with saskatoon berry aioli on the bun. We’re not entirely sure what made this an un-burger, since the patty and two bun-halves pretty much guarantee it a place on a burger list.
Then Dave tried to order the salad to go with it, after being told his other option was macaroni and cheese made with cream cheese and smoked salmon. I know, right? I’m ashamed to say I strong-armed him into it. But it was totally worth it.
I ordered the fish and chips. I was so excited about fish that I didn’t give the chips part of it a second thought. Then it arrived.
It's called an Unburger, but it looks like a burger to me.
Fish, Chips, and Aioli
I loved the fish. The batter was so light it was hardly noticeable. And the chips? Awesome. Three different kinds of potatoes, including sweet potatoes. Baked. The little container is aioli, which I used more for the chips than the fish.
And, of course, we had to try the dessert. Not having any idea what a panna cotta was and with Wikipedia not at our disposal, Dave ordered the lime panna cotta with champagne sorbet (which was less like sorbet and more like ice). Having a certain fondness for creme brulee, I went with that. It came with strawberry foam and praline hazelnut gelato.
Dave's Lime Panna Cotta
I totally dug into my dessert before I remembered to get a picture. That red stuff? Foam. DELICIOUS.
Conclusion? Delicious. The staff seemed a little unsure of themselves, but that also seems like something that will improve as time goes on. The Un-Burger was a bit confusing – Dave wasn’t sure if he should pick it up and eat it or cut it up or even what made it un, since the whole affair screamed burger! And danced about the table to the light jazz. But in the end, we were quite happy with our meals. I’d go back for the gelato alone.
Dave, at some point, has promised a review over at www.intothefridge.com
February 21st 2010 · Read More · No Comments
I’d love to say I haven’t been blogging because I’ve been terribly busy doing other things, but that’s just not the case. I go to work, I come home, I play computer games or whatever until bedtime, then the next morning, I get up and do the same thing again. Except for weekends. Although this Saturday, I woke up fifteen minutes after the alarm normally goes off and tried to get Dave out of bed. Right. Weekends. I don’t write about work because I don’t think it’s a good idea. So that leaves writing about video games. Or the cats. Or some funny thing Dave did that no one else will find funny because you really had to be there. Or how I didn’t sleep and how I keep getting sick.
I can tell you that this weekend, we took a 45 minute driving to a neighbouring community. Boyle is the Shelbyville to this town’s Springfield. Dave heard there was a good butcher there.
Boyle is tiny. It’s build on a slight incline, around triangles. It’s weird. The billboards are unattractive. When I think dismal prairie town, I think Boyle. And we went on an abysmally cloudy day which isn’t likely to help. We didn’t find a butcher, but we found the grocery store. There was nothing of note there.
While trying to find the second grocery store, we found the ugliest building in town. The arena.
Who thought this paint-job was a good idea?
The arena picture is actually from the second time we drove past it. I even slowed right down because (a) there was absolutely no traffic anywhere, and (b) Dave wanted to get a picture of just how ugly the place was.
We ate at the burger bar, which primarily offered Chinese food. The first five pages of the seven page menu was Chinese food. Dave had a mushroom burger and I had a bacon burger. Our logic was that it’s pretty hard to screw up a hamburger. I mean, you really have to work at making a bad burger. Then they arrived. Dave took the top bun off and, I wish I had the camera out for this, his face dropped. The mushroom burger was made up of the patty, the top and bottom bun (I had two bun tops), and half a can of mushrooms half-heartedly heated up and piled on. The face Dave made was one of a man who hasn’t eaten canned mushrooms in years. It was sad and hilarious all at the same time. The onion rings that came with the burger were relatively inoffensive, but by the time we were done, Dave was desperate to find something else to drink to get rid of that old-oil taste.
We found the liquor store without any trouble. Two of them, actually. We knew we found quality when we saw this sign:
What does that even mean?
I don’t get it, but Dave thought it was hilarious. We bought our bottle of wine and left, stopping at the grocery store just long enough to buy a cheap pork tenderloin and debate the merits of a $13 bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs.
So, um, yeah. That was our exciting trip to Boyle. Next weekend, we might even get to Rochester.
(“Where is Boyle?” I hear you ask. It’s here.)
February 13th 2010 · Read More · Comment(1)
Years ago, when I worked at a call centre in Toronto, a coworker and I started playing Connect 4 between calls. I don’t remember how it started, but it became a Big Deal. We had team names. We kept track of our wins on a post-it note. I was Team Optimus Prime. Against the guy I worked with, I had a decent record. I think I was batting about .500. It’s possible I never actually won a game against my friend Tim.
I left the job, moved around a lot, and only recently did I rediscover the game, sitting in the bottom of a box I haven’t unpacked in about four years. Immediately I took the game to work – something to do on breaks.
Now, I have an abysmal time with board games. Wins are few and far between. Except Connect 4. Except against Dave. I’m up eighteen games to five against him.
... But sometimes I think he lets me win.
February 9th 2010 · Read More · Comments(5)
We had this huge plan for the weekend. It’s a long weekend, pay day is on Friday, we thought we should go to the city. Then we had a better idea. Why don’t we just get a hotel room and come back on Sunday afternoon? Then we had a better idea. Why don’t we stay at the Hotel MacDonald? We never do anything like that. It would be fun! Then we got all excited.
Then we realised that Valentine’s Day is this weekend.
Then we decided to stay home.
February 8th 2010 · Read More · Comment(1)
You may wander through this blog and find yourself thinking “what kind of idiot is she?” And to be honest, I’m not sure. What kinds are there?
This list of things you were too scared to ask me about is sponsored by the mighty Solnushka. (I started writing this days ago and totally forgot to finish it.)
- I have a tattoo on the back of my neck, one on each of my forearms, one on my right ankle, and one on my back. I occasionally joke around with people and say that it’s an identification system, just in case I’m ever in a gruesome car accident and I can’t be recovered in one piece – at least all the bits are tagged. But there’s this nagging voice in the back of my mind that isn’t convinced anyone else remembers what the tattoos are.
- I am incapable of making a decision and sticking with it. I’m incapable to sticking with anything. Don’t leave decisions up to me. Tell me where we’re going for lunch. Tell me what day you want to come over. I will decide. Then I’ll change my mind. Then I’ll change it back. Then I’ll ask you what you want to do.
- When it comes to impulse buying at the grocery store, I am the absolute worst – only when I’m hungry though. If I’m not hungry, we save a lot of money. Today, though, we stopped by the grocery store for ice cream to go with the chai liqueur. First, I insisted on a cheese log and PopTarts (not to eat together – I’m not crazy). Then, I waited in line with the groceries while Dave scampered back to the dairy section for milk. While he was gone, I slipped a chocolate bar under the sandwich meat. Then, so he wouldn’t notice, I kept him distracted while the cashier rang the lunch meat and my chocolate bar through. But we barely made it back to the car before I spilled. Dave said he should eat the chocolate as punishment. I said they’d never find his body.
- I say soda instead of pop. I like the way the word rolls off the tongue.
- I can never remember my own phone number. Why would I, when we’ve had numbers ending in 0370, 3073, 7037. STOP MESSING WITH MY HEAD, PHONE COMPANY. The one I did remember was my cell in Toronto. 885-FAKE. No one believed me either.
- I was working as a cashier at Home Depot and some lady came through the till, complaining about her children. For the life of me, I cannot remember what I said, but she freaked out. “It’s not like you have kids,” she shot back, all snotty-like. “I do,” I told her simply, lying through my teeth. A coworker cut out a picture of a couple of children on a swing set from a Canadian Tire catalogue and brought in to me, so I could show the picture to snotty customers. I still have that picture, but I don’t remember what I named my kids.
- I prefer vanilla to chocolate, black tea to green tea, Twitter to Facebook, and Starscream to the Virgin Mary (this would be bad if I was Catholic).
- I know, I know. I said it last time too, but this time I mean it. I’m never shaving my head again.
- Socks are my worst enemy. If it is at all possible, I will not wear them. When it was -40 Celsius, I just put on heavier shoes. I haven’t actually worn socks since July 2007. It’s a good thing though: I can’t handle wearing socks with even a hint of a hole, so by avoiding socks entirely, we save a lot of money. Dave is the other way around. He doesn’t care about holes. In fact, he has one pair of socks that are little more than ankle-warmers. What gives?
- I leave the room when people start talking about Lost.
