Archive for the The crazies who love me Category
Posted on December 24, 2009 with No Comments
Yo Andrew!
Some of my fondest and older memories of spending time with you are:
1. Building forts (including our hide-out in the storage room under the stairs)
2. Creating adventure sets for our kittens, out of boxes
3. Battle beasts, God I hated playing that game with you haha!!
4. You’d take me to the candy store and look after your little sis 
5. Double bouncing madness on the trampoline
6. Tirelessly trying to find Mum’s hiding spots of junk food and Nintendo games
Some of my more recent fond ones include:
1. You naming Dad’s Siamese fighting fish “Rage”
2. Butter treats
3. Having you visit me at university… Homecoming pancake kegger!
4. Fondue in Whistler
5. Taking you on my Ninja!
6. Fresh snow on our front lawn and the ensuing snow angels and snow fight
12 memories; one for each day of Christmas!
Evidence of #6 in the list above
Um, more evidence.
I miss you today. Each year, I love how you give out presents to each of us from under the tree, tend the fire, and are just awesome being you!
This is so fun. Isn’t this fun? How fun is this? This is so much fun. Let’s continue the fun in T minus one hour. Check back at this blog again later. Fun fun fun!
Merry Christmas Andrew, love you a whole bunch
xo
Kels
Taste.
Posted on December 24, 2009 with 3 Comments
I am hijacking my own blog today for non-bloggy purposes, so probably a lot of you out there may want to skip over all the posts today. Or maybe you don’t, I mean it is kind of a heartwarming Christmas spirit story, after all! But I hope that at least one person out there cares about today’s posts, and that’s my brother Andrew.
- My baby brother Andrew
My brother is 27 years old; two and a half years’ my junior but probably twice as strong and has several inches on me. He has been working hard for the last couple of years to save all his pennies for a rainy day, and it turns out he’s really good at that and had enough for about 365 rainy days! So he has booked himself on a round-the-world, year-long trip. (Ok fine, that was his intention all along. I just liked how the rainy day thing sounded!) He left on December 6th on a flight that took off at 2 am. After a stopover in Hong Kong, he finally arrived in Melbourne after 40 hours and little to no sleep. He’s still in Australia, spending a decidedly un-white Christmas with cousins near Sydney, probably sunbathing on the deck and eating barbecue for lunch! And while we envy him this trip of a lifetime, we also really miss him. It’s the first Christmas he is spending away from us, so we wanted to do something nice for him.
But what to do for a backpacker with no space in his pack for presents? Well you hope he has a little sister like mine, who came up with the awesome idea of making him a “virtual stocking.” So we made him a little stocking card:
Which his hosts printed out and presented to him on Christmas morning. And it sent him on a little online treasure hunt to find cards, messages, photos and stories we’ve put on Teh Interwebz for him! By the time he finds this post, he will have already seen the card above, checked his email, opened a Christmas e-card and been directed to my blog.
So everyone, wish my brother a little Christmas love in the comments will ya?! Mum & Dad & Kelsey, this includes you!
Merry Christmas Andrew! Now go check your email again. Nope, not the travel account; the other one. Well, one of the other ones. You figure it out, it’s supposed to be a treasure hunt!! And come back to the blog starting at 11 am your time, we have Christmas stories for you coming later.
Posted on November 28, 2009 with No Comments
I keep meaning to write a post saying my mum arrived back home from England on Wednesday evening. But I put it off because I really don’t know what to say about it except that my mum arrived back home from England on Wednesday evening. And I’m glad to have her back
Posted on November 27, 2009 with 7 Comments
I start a new job – a four month contract – on Monday. After resigning myself to a holiday season of unemployment, it turns out I don’t even get any time off! I don’t like to talk about work or name my employer on my blog, but let’s just say that I will be helping to organize one aspect of a wee little international sporting event coming to my hometown in February. You may have heard of it? *Squeals with excitement*
I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been this time. My experience following this lay-off has been the polar opposite of what I experienced last year, which involved banging down doors shamelessly, hitting up all my friends for lead after lead, sending out my resume into cyberspace, and almost never hearing anything back. For months.
This time, however? I have sent out my resume to a grand total of four people, and have received three interviews in return for my efforts. I had a good friend call me up a couple of days after my layoff to say, “Hey, I heard you got some shitty news on Friday. Send me your resume immediately.” And three days after that phone call, I had a job offer from his employer in my hot little hands. And on the day that I had to sign and return that offer if I wished to accept it, I had another friend call me saying she’d just quit her job and was pushing her bosses to interview me. I told her I needed a decision that day, and so I was in their office for an interview that afternoon!
It turns out the first job offer was the best option for me, so I took it. I’ll be looking again in April, but this time I have 4 months’ notice before my unemployment starts, instead of just two weeks, so I can plan for it.
I’ll be having my friend and his wife over for a fancy home-cooked meal in short order. I owe him big for this one. And you, my readers, I owe the story of the the other interview I had last week. It was kind of hilarious.
Posted on October 17, 2009 with 8 Comments
We left off, I believe, with some “before” shots of my new apartment, and also my new hair (which seems to flip under on one side and flip out on the other side, GRRRRR. So I’ve had to start styling it a bit differently!) And then I failed to follow through on my promise to tell you all how I conned my friends into free slave labour to get the place painted in time for me to meet my move-in deadline. And the answer is:
FREE PIZZA!
…and FREE BOOZE!! (Although, warning: this may negatively affect the quality of the paint job. Don’t give out
too much free booze.)
So, yep. I threw a painting party. I knew I wouldn’t have enough time or energy to get my whole place painted between the day I took possession (Oct 1) and my official move-in day (Oct 4) without some serious help, so I decided to turn it into a fun event with my friends. And it really was fun!
I supplied enough painting equipment for everyone (though I did ask ahead of time if anyone could lend some paint rollers, brushes or trays, and some did) and bought pizza for 8 people, and bought some Coke & vanilla vodka to make mixed drinks. I told everyone if they wanted anything else to drink, they were on their own, and to wear their oldest, nattiest clothing because it might get covered in paint. We sat on the living room floor, ate pizza off paper plates, and drank wine from plastic cups… and it was great.
Me and two of my best girls having a beverage in between Coat #1 and Coat #2 of paint in the kitchen. We had a great time hanging out over drinks and/or paint buckets.
Me, painting the trim in the kitchen before the party started.It was important to make sure the whole apartment was prepped and ready for paint before everyone arrived. So Marty and I spent the entire evening on Oct. 1 washing down walls, applying painter’s tape to all the wall edges, filling holes in the wall, and removing all the faceplates from electrical sockets and lightswitches. We still weren’t done at the end of the night, so I was back there the next morning with the help of my sister and my lovely friend Shannon, since both were off work on that Friday. They helped me get everything completely ready and started painting the first coat of paint before the party started later that evening.
My wall says “BUMFART.” My sister is nothing if not eloquent.You run the risk of this occurring if you invite immature people to help you paint. My whole family has the sense of humour of an 8-year old boy, so it was pretty much a given that my sister would do something like this.
Bye bye, icky lavender walls…And then everyone was put to work! This is Shannon painting my bedroom walls green. Can we all just breathe a collective sigh of relief? Oh my stars, how I hated the previous colour.
My brother painting the wall in the living room. He was selected for his ability to paint from the floor to the ceiling without requiring any extra ladders. Invite your tall friends.
We got everything all done in one evening: the blue wall in the living room, my new terra cotta-coloured kitchen (which I was on the fence about, but it turns out it’s my absolute favourite colour now), my yellow bathroom, and my gorgeous green bedroom.
(As a side note, the green colour I chose for my bedroom was just meant to be. I must have contemplated at least 15 similar shades of green before settling on the one I chose, and it turns out that my final choice is called Precious Jasper. Jasper is the name of my family’s golden retriever that we had to put to sleep last year at the age of 13! It made my sister and I a little misty-eyed.)
Marty and I at the end of the eveningWhen the evening came to an end, Marty and I were able to relax and look around and realize how it was all coming together. It’s my place, yes, but it’s kind of our place in a way now too, even though he hasn’t moved in with me. And it’s so nice that he helped me create this space that I hope will be his one day too.
Posted on September 4, 2009 with 3 Comments
Last night, I did yoga with Martin.
(YES, SERIOUSLY.)
I did not fall awkwardly out of any poses. I blame that squarely on my curtailing of our yoga session in order to rush off to an apartment viewing, thus avoiding the dreaded crow pose, which would have inevitably sent me crashing head-first into the floor. Observe, Exhibit A:
Despite my avoidance of such a feat, I distinctly remember thinking hmmm, my shoulder feels a little funny when yoga was finished. An hour after that, it was less humorous and more yowchy. By the time I went to bed, I had escalated the complaint up the queue to the point that Marty was offering me shoulder rubs.
(Ahhhh, new love, ain’t it grand? He might even have seriously intended it as a gesture simply to make my shoulder feel better and not as an ulterior motive to put me to sleep and therefore shut me up! Give it a month or two though…)
By 3:45 am, I could no longer roll over or sit up in bed without using my left arm to hold up my entire body weight, lest I send acute pain across my chest, down my back and through my entire right arm like shooting stars or forks of lightning. I had to wake up my poor boyfriend to get me some painkillers, because I couldn’t apply enough pressure to the child-proof bottle cap to get it open without writhing in pain.
After a nightcap of ibuprofen cocktail (oh calm down, I kid. I took 2 extra-strength Advils), I finally drifted off to sleep amid thoughts that I would have to ask Marty to brush my teeth for me in the morning, or worse, try brushing them with my left hand!
7 am rolled around too soon, and as my alarm cut into my morning slumber with a shrill, obnoxious ringtone, I groggily came to the realization that my shoulder, while still quite painful, was at least now dulled by the painkillers enough to drive myself safely (with two hands on the steering wheel!) directly to my chiropractor’s office.
Now, say what you will about chiropractors. I know some people think they’re quacks, just barely skirting the perimeter of acceptable medical practices. Mine, however, has been a godsend ever since I was 18 years old. 15 years of competitive gymnastics and intense dance takes its toll on your spine, and when you quit those sports suddenly, the once-strong muscles surrounding your spine lose their ability to compensate for your degenerating vertebrae, and the proverbial shit hits the fan. My chiropractor has kept me pain-free and able to participate in all manner of physical activities, despite my chronic back issues, and so I owe him my health and quality of life. I knew he’d be able to help with my shoulder as well.
The official diagnosis of my shoulder problem seems to be, “something zigged when it should have zagged.” My chiropractor likened it to biting your tongue; your tongue slips in between your teeth hundreds of times a day without any problems, but every once in awhile your jaw screws up your brain’s command and you chomp down on a big ol’ bite of your own tongue. Tasty. Similarly, I have done simple yoga poses dozens (maybe even hundreds?) of times before with no issues, but this time, something effed up my shoulder. Zig.
His course of treatment was a 45-minute long, extremely unpleasant round of OW OW *snap* OW *crackle* OW * pop* OW OW, followed by round two tomorrow morning, and I can expect shooting pain and throbbing in my shoulder for at least the next three days. I know I’m excited.
Happy Labour Day weekend to you too!
Posted on August 28, 2009 with 22 Comments
I should probably also warn you not to read this while eating your lunch, because this post is likely so saccharine sweet it will make you vomit.
That caveat now being out of the way: I have some news. Some good news. I am so happy I can scarcely believe it is real, but this state has sustained itself long enough now that I only feel the need to pinch myself on a daily basis to remind myself it’s real, rather than the hourly plus pinches of a week or two ago. And thank God because my arm was getting bruised, y’all! I can’t take all that pinching!
I have fallen in love.
I’ve held off writing about this for a little while because I was afraid. Afraid that my commitment-phobic self would not allow this to last, so I didn’t want to jump the gun writing about it. Afraid that this would seem too quick on the heels of Tex (though, in my defense, that story was written long after it ended in real life.) Afraid that I might come across as a serial dater. But I’m done being afraid.
Internet, meet my boyfriend Marty, the source of my happiness and of this barf-worthy post:
Ain’t we cute? I don’t know that I believe in love at first sight, but this is the closest damn thing that I’ve ever experienced. I had a good feeling about Marty even before our first date, and had a great time with him, as I somehow knew that I would. We’ve been virtually inseparable since our second date. I knew I loved him the third week we were dating, and we told each other that week. For a fairly independent, un-clingy girl, I’m shocked by how much it sucks to be away from him for even a few hours.
He’s different than past relationships. He’s not perfect, of course, but he seems perfect
for me… it’s almost eerie how closely he matches the description of what I’d hoped to find in a man, it’s as though I dreamed him into existence. Of course I wanted someone sweet, trustworthy, honest, supportive… everyone wants that, and he’s all of those things, but those are almost a given; a minimum expectation. But there are other, more specific things I had hoped to find in a partner, but never expected to find all of them
in one person, I mean that would be ridiculous, right? For example:
- Someone who will stroke my hair until I fall asleep, because that is my favourite thing in the entire world
- Someone who will take dance classes with me
- Someone whose best physical feature is their smile that lights up a room and puts a sparkle in their eyes
- Someone who not only tolerates or manages to avoid mocking my blogging habit, but actually thinks it’s kind of cool and will talk blog with me.
- Someone strong enough to pick me up and make me feel like I’m light as a feather even though I know perfectly well that I’m not
- Someone who wants to travel to the same places I do
- Someone who is a dog person
- Someone with their own passions and drive
- Someone who thinks my inherent clumsiness (I dropped the menu on the floor on our first date. I walk into walls and doorways and sprain my ankles and am always sporting some bruise or another!) is cute and quirky… maybe even charming
- Someone who wants to live on the North Shore
- Someone I can talk to for hours without getting bored, but who doesn’t want or need to be the centre of attention
I mean, pretty specific, right? But Marty hits every single one of them. And he loves me back. Also, the first night I stayed over at his place, he had peach pie for us to eat for breakfast. That’s the kind of guy you want to keep around, ladies.
I think I’m going to keep him.
Posted on January 29, 2009 with 8 Comments
My mum left on a flight to England today.
She’s British by birth and most of her family is over there still. The primary reason for her trip is to see her 97-year old mother, who is doing poorly. Well, actually I should qualify that statement. For 97, I think my grandmother is fucking amazing. She is still pretty sharp mentally, lives on her own, and has no help around the house except for a gardener. She has a friend who visits her several times a week to take her grocery shopping and run errands, but other than that help, she does everything on her own. I hope to be doing as well as her at 97. Either that or go out with a bang at a much younger age!
However.
My gran’s starting to get confused by simple things… she can’t keep track of the order in which events unfold anymore. She knows what year it is but often slips and thinks we’re back in 1990. She is going deaf so we have to yell at her over the phone, and she doesn’t see well enough to know that her place is getting very dirty. The slightest deviation from her routine completely ruins her day. She doesn’t really cook anymore but won’t accept Meals On Wheels, so it’s not uncommon to hear she ate a slice of cake or a packet of chips for dinner. And this fiercely independent, stubborn woman has recently begun saying that she doesn’t think she can cope on her own much longer. We basically think that’s the beginning of the end for someone like her.
So my mum is doing the only thing she can at this time. She booked a ticket to go and take care of her mum. We don’t know how long she’ll be gone, but it will be at least a couple of months, maybe several.
It’s no secret that I’ve had a bit of a tough time living with my parents over the last year. I am endlessly grateful to them for taking me in when I fell on hard times, but it hasn’t been easy. We clash often, and my relationship with my mother is the one that has been particularly difficult. I’m close with her, but we fight a lot, and lately it has seemed like there is nothing we can discuss without arguing unless we’re talking about celebrity gossip or the weather. I just don’t know how to make her happy but also keep myself happy; how to maintain some sense of independence without pushing her away. I haven’t found the balance yet. I don’t know if it’s even possible to achieve.
Truth be told, in some ways I was looking forward to my mum going away because the arguing and her constant inquiring into my job search is exhausting. So it is with some surprise that I found myself overcome by emotion today when I said goodbye to her. I sat in the car with tears rolling down my cheeks, and realized that even at the age of 28 I still need my mum sometimes. I will really miss her, and I know she is not looking forward to this trip because she knows it will be stressful and sad. It may even involve planning and attending her mother’s funeral, and I know she is overwhelmed at the idea of this task. I feel so much compassion for her, and I wish I could ease the burden.
All I can do to help is pick up the slack at home by cooking for my family and taking care of as many tasks as I can that my mum usually did. That doesn’t seem enough when what she really needs is a break, and a hug.
She went off in her characteristic style. At the airport, she casually asked if they had any seats left in first class, and promptly got a free upgrade for her 10-hour flight. Typical of my mum! I hope she’s sleeping in a fully reclined business class seat, somewhere over Eastern Canada right now.
Safe flight Mum, and have a good trip. Don’t stay away too long.
Posted on December 26, 2008 with 11 Comments
Merry Christmas to all my readers! If you celebrate Christmas, I hope you had a wonderful day yesterday with your friends and/or families and a fantastic meal.
This year is the first year since 1971 that Canada has had a white Christmas virtually everywhere across the entire country. We have an unusual amount of snow in Vancouver at the moment. As a general rule, I hate the snow… I hate dealing with traffic in the snow! But for some reason this year I took a liking to it (maybe because in my unemployed state, I don’t have to drive in rush hour traffic? Hmmm… quite possibly!) and my siblings and I have been out enjoying it!
My brother Andrew had trouble getting home from work on Tuesday because the buses weren’t running properly, so he had to walk most of the way (it was a long, snowy walk.) When he finally arrived home, he was already covered in snow so he decided to play.
Andrew flopped over on his back, landing in the snow, and made a snow angel
My sister Kelsey, definitely not dressed for the weather, went and joined him on our front lawn
Aw, Andrew’s helping her up! How sweet.
Uhhh… and then carrying her further into the snow…
He threw her into the snow and buried her.
Kelsey was not amused.
The next day Andrew followed me on a snowy walk and started a snowball fight with the biggest snowball known to man. This is the only photo of the fight because I was too busy being pummeled with snowballs to take photos.
When we got back home, he took a flying leap at our front lawn again
I followed suit and he buried me with snow
It was all in good fun, I had a great time!
Posted on June 26, 2008 with 3 Comments
Wishing a beautiful day to a beautiful girl Happy 22nd to my sister!
