Further proof to add to the already overwhelming collection of evidence that I am O.L.D.

I am just so excited about this weekend that I could spit! (Though not until after a quick swirl, deep sniff, and roll-around in the mouth taste.)

What on earth am I going on about?

THE 2003 BORDEAUXS ARE HERE!

That’s wine for those who still haven’t clued in.

Summation? I am really excited about a wine release. Most of which I’ll immediately stuff in a dark box and put in the back of the closet for 3-10 years before drinking (unless the man can be convinced to adjust the budget to include one of these sooner rather than later).

But what makes these wines extra special? The extreme heat wave in 2003 caused massive chaos through most of Europe. Tens of thousands of people died and acres of crops were ruined by accellerated ripening.

However the unbearable conditions did something a bit magical to the grapes in the area. The lack of moisture made for a more concentrated juice, and the speed at which the grapes ripened meant a higher concentration of alcohol upon fermenting. This is an especially fantastic equation for wines in the Bordeaux region, whose full flavours depend on a decade or so of cellaring to mature and mellow. The extra potent juice and high alcohol will make for unusually robust and deep flavours through the wine as the years carry on.

Of course, there is a price to pay for such concentrated juices. The volatile conditions meant that while the quality of the harvests were superb, they also yielded only around half of the average volume of grapes that come out of the region. This release has been highly anticipated by wine enthusiasts ever since the early harvest in August of 2003, and promises to be one of those “legendary” vintages that collectors vie to include in their cellars.

Personally, one of my favourite fantasies includes owning a bottle of one of the extraordinary vintages of Chateau Lafite-Rothschild and opening it the day I board my sailboat and begin an epic voyage around the world.

Unfortunately, with the 2003’s starting somewhere around $750 a bottle, I believe I’ll have to wait a few years to realize that one. Luckily there are a number of Bordeaux selections available (.pdf) starting from just $30 arriving at the BCLDB Signature Stores tomorrow, with bottles ready for drinking now, all the way through to those that will be best sometime in 2015.

If this is what getting old holds? It tastes pretty sweet so far.

If you did a poll of the girlfriends with whom I discuss such things, you’d quickly realize that I’ve become the resident expert in brazilian bikini waxes. Mostly because I’m the one who’s dared to “go there” as a part of my personal grooming routine.

And since I get queried by said girlfriends on a semi-regular basis, and “bikini wax etiquette” shows up in my search strings more often than not, I present to you, the cleverly titled:

Jen’s Guide to Bikini Wax Expectations and Etiquette

And lest you think you don’t need such a guide, I shall refer you to my uneducated and unprepared earlier experience. And NOBODY should have to go through that. According to the archives, it took me 2.5 years to get over it.

Warning:

If you have ever shaved any of your pubic hair, your first wax will hurt like a MOTHERFUCKER. No word of a lie, it will be so awful you will want to leap right off the table and run screaming, pantsless, into the night. It is just the way of things. If you are smart you will schedule yourself a competent esthetician, realize it will all be over inside of 20 minutes, and suck it up, princess. Look at the bright side, it only gets better! If you have been shaving, wait at least 4 weeks from your last shave to go for a wax in order to let the hairs grow long enough for the wax to grip them.

Finding a Waxer:

A lot of major cities have papers that run a “best of the city” feature that asks the citizens to vote on everything from restaurants to rodeos. Most have an esthetics or even a bikini wax vote - go to the place that wins. Phone a spa/salon that offers the service and ask who their most popular esthetician is. Ask for reviews. Ask friends or acquaintances who they go to (for the locals, I go to Linda’s). This is one wax job you don’t wanna mess around with, so do some research.

The Arsenal:

Be sure you have the following things in your posession before the day of your appointment. You’ll want them at your disposal:
-Lidocaine Cream for irritation (I hear Preparation H works well too, though I’ve never tried it)
-Epsom salts for a soak
-Advil (or painkiller of your choice)
-A soft Loofah & some gentle body wash - something hypoallergenic if you’re sensitive
-Liquor. Lots of liquor.

Day of:

Wear comfortable panties and pants! I personally have a pair of soft cotton boy shorts that I wear on waxing days, that don’t rub or chafe or ride up. I’ll wear them with a skirt or roomier pants. If I’m getting it done on a weekend or after work, I’ll go commando in yoga pants. Whatever you’re comfortable with, just avoid lace and embellishments, or anything that’s tight and rides up or around in uncomfortable ways. Believe me you’ll be uncomfortable enough.

EAT! EAT! EAT! Things hurt more when your blood sugar is low. Try to eat something with a bit of staying power (cookies, chocolate, and plain fruit will just make you crash) about 20-30 minutes before your appointment. Your body also heals better when you’ve got proper nutrition. This includes being well-hydrated, so water up.

Since you’re eating something anyway, take a small dose of Advil or Tylenol (not Asprin or liquor - that’s for after - since they thin your blood and may cause you to bleed) about 20 minutes before your appointment as a preventative pain killer to dull the owies a bit.

The Appointment!:

Try not to schedule it the week before (or during) your period. You’re just more sensitive in those areas and it’ll hurt more.

Congratulations, you made it! Don’t back down now, you’re almost there.

Depending on where you go and who your esthetician is, you’ll likely be instructed to take off your pants and panties, drape yourself with the towel they’ve provided, and lay back on the table. They usually leave the room for privacy while you do this, and take a moment to steel yourself. You may or may not be offered disposable panties which you can accept or decline, depending on your comfort level.

You will be half naked.

There is no getting around this. Getting in and around all of your nooks and crannies, crooks and crevices is going to require full access. And some yoga-esque poses. There is no room for modesty in the brazilian wax process. Your esthetician probably sees a hundred or so coochies a year other than yours, so get over yourself.

The actual waxing process will feel like someone is ripping the short and curlies out of your sensitive bits, because, well, they are. Be brave little soldier! It should be over inside of 20 minutes. The esthetician will probably give you a once over with some tweezers to catch any strays, and may trim any landing strip hair you want left.

Types of Wax Jobs:

In case you are totally clueless, there are different types of bikini wax you can get, though this post applies to all of them.

-Regular Bikini takes off the bit of hair that runs up the area inside your thighs and where your legs join your pelvis.
-French Bikini leaves you with only a small patch in the front, but does nothing with the back.
-Brazilian Bikini involves either going bare or leaving a small patch in the front, as well as deforesting the back door. FYI since most people don’t both trying to self-groom their own ass-cracks (out of sight, out of mind?) it usually hurts the least to wax. It’s those hairs we insist on shaving and trimming ourselves that get to be stubborn about removal.

Aftercare:

This is when I ply myself liberally with liquor and just hope the sweet, sweet nectar causes me to pass out long enough to feel better when I wake up.

Seriously though, be gentle with your ladyparts, they will be sensitive. Try to keep your bloog sugars level, and take your vitamins. Exfoliate gently in the shower to combat ingrown hairs, and if you do experience lots of discomfort, take another Advil, try an Epsom salts bath and/or some lidocane cream. Local waxing joint Sugarbox has a great page of “do’s and don’ts” that I’d recommend reading before you go in.

Pay special heed to the one that says “DO NOT SHAVE BETWEEN WAXING APPOINTMENTS.” Bikini waxing is not an on-again off-again thing. Either you are committed to it, or you aren’t, and if you aren’t there is no point in even starting. Every time you shave, you bring yourself right back to that first all-painful and terrible wax. It’ll depend on your personal hair structure, but you’ll need to go back every 3-6 weeks to maintain it, and it does hurt less every time. I hardly cry at all now. And as your hairs grow in finer and finer, you’ll be able to get away with having them waxed shorter and shorter, so you don’t have any “down time” if you’re thinking about how to schedule waxes so you’ll look your best on the beach in Cancun or for that special new man.

Etiquette Points:

Don’t eat the bean burrito the night before. It’s just best for everyone involved. If you feel “less than fresh” in any of your nether regions before your appointment, carry some flushable wipes with you to freshen up before you go in.

If you’re nervous and/or shy, SAY SO! Remember, this is your waxer’s JOB. She can talk you through it, and let you know exactly what she’s going to do and what to expect to make you feel most comfortable.

Try to relax, it’ll make the whole process easier on everyone.

Please tip. It’s the classy thing to do (unless you ignored my first point and went to a butcher). I tip the same percent I tip my hairdresser (10-15%). If there are estheticians out there who think I’m being stingy, please inform me! Otherwise I think that’s a pretty safe amount.

Other than that, you should now be fully armed with information, and ready to forth and wax fearlessly! Or at least in fear only of the pain, and not totally of the unknown.

Down with Bush!

ps. If anyone knows of a place in town that does the “Full Monty” wax for guys, clue me in. I’d love to coerce Neil into trying it, since I’m interested in some of the mechanics of the procedure and if the results are worth it. And I bet he’d blog about it!

Another thing I love, Love, LOVE about living where we do is that the people are freakishly friendly and neighbourly.

Our asshole dog (she’s officially an asshole until she accepts the fact that she WILL poo while attached to a leash and WILL NOT do it as far as she can possibly get into some neighbour’s front yard) has decided that she hates the dog next door. He did nothing to her, and she snarls and leaps at him every time she sees him.

This despite the fact that she is otherwise usually terrified and will run, tail between legs away from: the inactive vacuum, Neil or I moving on the couch (while she’s on the floor), something being dropped in the kitchen, air, nothing at all.

And still the dog’s owner is patient and kind and insists that it’s ok and the dogs will eventually come to like eachother and be friends.

But this isn’t about them. This is about the guys across the hall.

Dan and Andrew are a couple of 3rd year UBC students originally from Toronto and Portland, studying Art History and Poli-Sci, respectively. It all started when they moved in about a month ago and Dan knocked on our door asking if he could borrow a screwdriver to assemble his newly acquired Ikea bed. The screwdriver was returned with great appreciation a couple days later, and an invite for dinner followed shortly after.

So over we went, armed with our charm and a bottle of wine, and the guys treated us to a fantastic meal of chilled green salad, tabbouleh, chicken in peanut sauce and Naan. And dessert waffles that put my waffles to shaaaaaame (though in all fairness, I believe that’s more about the waffle maker than the chef).

We spoke of East vs. West (coast), American vs. Canadian Politics, movies, books, wine, women and song.

After dinner we retired to the living room, painted in a dark blue-grey, covered in posters of Che Guevara, James Dean, Jimi Hendrix and the Blues Brothers. Thumbtacked Art prints by Escher and Dali. We sat on couches draped with tye-dyed blankets, and smoked a hookah by the glow of the lavalamp and a few candles, and continued to chat.

As the night grew long, and we all realized we had to get up for either work or school in the morning, we said our goodbyes and make the long, 2.5 step journey back across the hallway.

The moment we stepped back into our own apartment, nearly the same layout as theirs, except flipped left-to-right, and gazed upon our taupe walls and Asian/Scandanavian minimalist design, framed artwork and too-big for the space TV (Dan & Andrew opted against the idiot box, and use their rolling stand for the hookah instead) - it hit us immediately.

Without warning, and certainly without permission, for the first time in our lives, we felt OLD. Sigh. It’s only a matter of time before we start eating dinner at 4:30pm and yelling at those crazy kids to quiet down and get off our lawn!

Anousheh Ansari

Originally uploaded by Space Explorer.

Via the CBC: Anousheh Ansari, the world’s first “space tourist” has a flickr photostream and a blog!

Reading through it I feel 6 years old again, back when the only attractive career options were Astronaut, Prime Minister, or Movie Star.

Ansari highlights the things I love most about travelling - finding out and sharing in the ways the “locals” interact with eachother and conduct their day-to-day lives. Reading back through the archives and more about her on some other sites, her motivations for the space trip seem to be pretty admirable and inspiring.

Not only is the site an entertaining and educational read - but I definitely needed a bit of a reminder that there is a very big universe outside my tiny sphere of influence, and I definitely need to realize that more often.

What do we do when we have no content?

Figure out what’s bringing people back anyway - SEARCH STRINGS!

The list was looooooooong, but amusing, so I thought I’d share a few of the best with you.

water cooler - #1 result. duh. Sorry if you were looking for the Culligan Man.
nose cauterized - apparently nobody who clicks through to this page has heard of about.com, but it’s become some sort of strange message board for those who want to share their advice and experience.
tattooed grandma - I expect I’ll be friends with quite a few once I’m grandma age.
bikini wax etiquette- Is there a call for a post on this? I could definitely oblige.
spelunking equipment - Heh, sorry.
eggo waffles weight watcher points - seriously? just eat real food.
vodka martini caloric intake - see! eat your veggies, and save the points for the liquor.
show me pictures of a person that was 2nd and 3rd degree burns on the face. - really? gross.
dating a spoiled princess - Neil? We live together - you should know what it’s like.
yearbooks of hope secondary - I have 1993/4 through 1997/8
fashion to flatter women with large thighs - medium rise, straight leg pants and A-Line skirts. You’re welcome.
naked pictures - just in general? try National Geographic.
used facial bed in toronto sale - a bed for your face? a bed to get facials in? what kinda facial are we talkin’ anyway? I don’t know if I want to know.
how to deal with crazy roomates - eviction.
how to fix bad short haircut - uh, wow. Buy a hat.
narcissism and breakups - clearly you found exactly what you were looking for here.
fashion pleated pants - No. No. No.
i gave him a second chance - I keep telling people not to do this, and they keep doing it anyway.
wash and go hairstyles for thick and curly hair - Ahahahahah. hahah. hah. You were kidding with that one, right?
poo head bum fluff - Stinky butt pickle face! So there!
no pleated pants dating - Obviously another person who was looking expressely for moi.
never date a guy who wear contacts - I beg to differ!
coke in brita filter - Good smuggling idea! Nobody will notice the powder in with that charcoal! Too bad I didn’t think of that… (uh.. not that I would.. drugs r baad, mm kay?)
fuck frenzy jennifer - heh. I admit to nothing.
feet in mouth lov - whatever floats your boat there partner.
will chocolate be compatible with napster to go - I always advocate chocolate with my music. Or with anything really.
jose cuervo is my friend - Gah. Not mine! Oh my hell. I get nauseous just thinking about it.
pants for large thighs - Again? Another post request perhaps?
five things about liverwurst - Tasty. Creamy. Liverlicious… I’m stumped.
catholic faith beliefs premarital sex confession communion - You appear to be missing a sacrament or two.
lululemon pronounciation - ru-ru-ray-mown (I kid. don’t hate!)
motherfucking chicken dance - I imagine that’s a lot like the regular chicken dance, with more… feeling.
marathon wheezing - perhaps you should take up bingo, instead of distance running?
kinda like your mom trebek - that’s what you get for defecting, Alex.
embolism greyhound bus dangers - I just don’t know, but I can’t imagine an embolism while stuck between a flatulent senior citizen and a shifty looking ex con would be extremely safe.
shebang flags farming lag - Gill? I think your cat has some… odd hobbies.
hop on the bus gus i will seriously marry you - how romantic! *swoon*
thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love - you’re welcome.
where do find water worldwide? - uh.. in the ocean?

Here’s one for the geeks.

Know what would be really cool? If I could select an option on search engines that would automatically sort results based on geographic relevance.

For instance: I need some information on community and career resources in Prince George. If I select that little box, a tool runs to grab my IP and gives me results for the city of Prince George, BC instead of Prince George County, MD. Heck, let me save a profile with my address and postal code, or any other geographic location indicators so I get results that are far more relevant.

Google: know that “default address” I selected for your pretty maps utility? How’s about you use it to filter my search results as well. Maybe only if I ask you to - but I’d like to be able to ask you to.

This should be possible.

Anyone know anyone who might want to do something about this?

I drove into work today since I had to go visit a client before lunch. New job downside: No more free parking, which means I bus in most days. New job upside? Does not make me want to stab myself in the face daily, or ever.

Because I was more mobile than usual, I ventured over to 4th & Cypress for lunch to try out the Noodle Box that just opened.

Short Review: Yum.

Long Review: Everyone else thinks it’s pretty good too, and it was a 20 min. wait for my Nasi Goreng. But a generous portion of Nasi Goreng, in a box to go, for $10? Hell yes! In all fairness, the order-taker was upfront about the wait, and most people were willing to sit it out for the fresh, fresh, tasty noodles.

Since I spent my 20 minutes waiting (shopping) instead of eating I brought lunch back to the office with my set of chopsticks.

Then I opened the Noodle Box box and remembered that I ordered a rice dish. And now I (because I’m too lazy to go all the way across the building to the kitchen for a fork/spoon) am trying to eat fried rice with chopsticks.

Asian people, help me out here… HOW? Other than one grain at a time….

This is starting to remind me of eating in Korea, where the food was all good, but I never finished my soup/rice. Not because it wasn’t tasty, but because with broth and rice there is a critical threshold reached where it takes more effort to wrangle the food from vessel to mouth than caloric benefit you will receive from getting that extra bite into your gullet. I was hungry a lot in Korea.

But this is good enough (And I’m hungry enough) that I’m sure I can soldier on.

One other note for spice wimps: Mild+ is my limit. My lips are tingling and my tongue is swolen. There is only one level less spicy, and about 5 shades of heavier spice. Do people with that much gastrointestinal fortitude even have tastebuds left?

I’ve got one pair of Canucks pre-season tickets to sell to the first interested party who connects with me with a fistfull of cash.

Tickets are for the game vs. San Jose on Tuesday, Sept. 26th in Section 321, Row 13. Regularly sell for $64.25 each plus ticketbastard fees. They’re yours for $50 each.

How is this possible you ask? I have a set of half-season tickets. Nobody I normally share the tickets with is either available for or interested in this particular game, so I’m offering them up to anyone who’ll take them off my hands. I’m not looking to make a profit off the tickets - I paid $49.29 each for them, so $50 even just seems like an easier way to deal with it - though if you’d like to pay me $98.58 in exact change, that’s cool too.

Comment or email if you’d like to get in on some pre-season action for a great price! Puck drops at 7:00pm.

Update: Sold!

I don’t know where, when, or why the decision was made.

But I don’t like it.

I feel betrayed.

Abandoned.

Deceived.

I didn’t need to be consulted. But at least a little warning, and perhaps an explanation would be appreciated.

How could you just rip something like that away from me without as much as a “how d’ya do”?

Just because you didn’t feel you had a use for it anymore, doesn’t mean it didn’t make my life a little better.

Oh McDonald’s…

WHY did you discontinue the Hot Mustard Sauce?

My nuggets and fries will never be the same.

Darren posted recently requesting suggestions for first dates in Vancouver. Being that I went on a LOT of them until recently, I figured I should weigh in.

How does a guy (or gal) make sure his (or her) first date passes muster, especially where Ridiculously High Standards are concerned? Follow these RHS Approved Dos and Don’ts:

DO: Invite your date out for a meal of some sort. The great thing about meal-as-date is that the end of the eating (esp. if the date isn’t going super well) is a great “end point” to the encounter. It’s a natural point where one could feel no guilt about thanking the other for a lovely time, but I really MUST be going and I’ll call you…

DON’T: Try somewhere totally unfamiliar to both of you if such things make you nervous.

DO: Do your research, read some reviews of the venue, can you afford it? Figure out what you might want (or want to avoid) on the menu, and evaluate the dress code so you aren’t the only one in Jeans or the only one in Couture.

DON’T: Forget your wallet. You should always carry enough cash to cover at least your half of the bill, as well as incidental extras, parking, and a cab home should it be necessary. Do NOT stop at the cash machine during a date. It’s tacky, and makes you look unprepared (which you are).

DO: plan the “short date” and the “extended version.” If you are having a terrible time, there is NOTHING worse than not having an escape route. If the date isn’t like most of those I had, however, then you’ll be thankful to have an option or two planned and available to continue your time together. If the weather’s cooperating (or even if it isn’t) take a walk around a local park, along the beach, or even around a local campus. Bad weather? Visit a museum, gallery, or just suggest another venue for some apres meal dessert, drinks or coffee.

DON’T: Plan “wardrobe incompatible” activities. This one is for the clueless guys to consider, and mostly pertains to shoes. If you tell your date you’re going dancing, and she should dress as such, she’ll probably wear some sultry, sexy shoes she can spin in - and which will also make her want to chop off her feet at the ankles at the end of the night. Suggesting a muddy walk along a gravel trail while she’s wearing these isn’t the best idea.

DO: Throw in a test or two to gauge your date’s reaction. Yes I know nobody wants to “play games” - but that’s really what dates are for. To fill in the blank in your ___ ever after. Decide what’s an important trait for your mate to exhibit, and see if it comes out when you put him or her on the spot.

Ladies: Walk up to a door (establishment, vehicle, whatever) and just stop. See if he opens it for you. Let the bill linger on the table to see if he picks it up right away or hesitates. Heck - visit the restroom (even if only to touch up your lipstick) and see if he takes care of things while you’re gone (extra double-plus-good points for those ones!). Will he help you with your jacket? Up stairs? Off a curb? Into and out of the car? If you let your hand linger on the table, will he reach across to caress it?

Gentlemen: Does she reach for her handbag or otherwise indicate or offer to pick all or part of the cheque? Does she laugh at the unfunniest joke you can muster up - even if she’s just laughing at your unfunniness? Does she continually scan the room, or keep her attention on you, even when you start talking about things you KNOW she’s not interested in? And will she agree to that muddy walk around the lake in her uncomfortable designer heels? If she goes for that one, you KNOW she’s into you - and heck, you can always offer to piggyback her around the big puddles.

NOTE: ETIQUETTE POINT! The asker does the paying. Ladies, if you invite a genetleman out for dinner, the bill’s on you. It’s the classy thing to do. Guys, same goes for you, though this is not an invitation to stop asking women out. If either one of you is expecting to go Dutch, accept your date’s offer to cover his/her half of the bill. However, if s/he is ungracious enough to not even offer, don’t ask. Be classy, cover the bill, and trash talk them to your friends later.

As for local first date ideas - with the above considerations in mind, here are my suggestions for venues/activities:

Fooding: Almost anything goes, taking the following into account: First dates are awkward enough without navigating crowded tables, yelling over the music or other “ambient” noise, waiting hours in line at a place that doesn’t take reservations (have one!) or dealing with mediocre service. Some of my favourite places to eat (on dates or otherwise) include: Chambar, Cru, Gotham, Cin Cin, Tojos, Carderos and Joe Fortes. If you’re out to impress a non-foodie (since the food is good, but overpriced for what you get) with a spectacular sunset, try one of the revolving restaurants. Also, your Earlstone’s Club establishments tend to work well on dates - only because they’re ubiquitous and predictible.

Activities: The key for these should be that they’re enjoyable, casual, and leave you breathless with eachother - not effort. I’d recommend against a strenuous hike, or anything that challenges a phobia (such as a suspension bridge) unless you know unequivocally that you’re both a) ironman/woman and/or b) fearless. I’d also say that it’s safer to stick within the city. Vancouver offers plenty of stimulation within accessible areas that allow for easy access, stunning scenery, and a quick escape. I’d also avoid malls or shopping (window or otherwise) - best to leave your bad taste and/or bad credit out of a first date. And for the love of Pete - if you’re going to see a movie (horrible date activity as far as I’m concerned), at least see it FIRST so you can talk about it afterward.

A good test of an idea is to ask yourself: “Should the worst-case scenario (broken ankle on a hike, whatever) actually play out AND we discover that we hate eachother - would I want to shoot my date or myself first?” If you can answer that question easily - seek help, you’re a sick individual. But you get what I’m saying. If the first date goes well, there are plenty of other opportunities for more remote and extended adventures together.

Again, some of my favourites: Any of the city beaches, Stanley Park (seawall or other trails), UBC Campus, or for some inside things, the VAG, the Vancouver Museum, the Aquarium, or the UBC Museum of Anthropology.

Ultimately, your job, as the asker of someone (and the favourable responder to the asker of someone) on a first date is to make your date feel comfortable enough that s/he can be her/himself around you, and ultimately have a good time while sussing eachother out. You should ALWAYS walk away from a first date having had a good time, whether or not you think you’d actually get along on a longer-term basis with your date. Keep that particular motive in mind, and you can’t really go wrong.

Finally, make sure you’ve cleaned your pad, changed the sheets, notified the roomies, stocked up on prophylactics, set out a couple wine glasses and put some fresh OJ in the fridge for morning. Because if you can execute a flawless and unforgettable first date, who knows where it might lead.*
(more…)

I swear, there is some crazy stuff going on today.

I should’ve realized it when, on her morning walk, the dog didn’t do her normal “I’m gonna fuck around just long enough to make you late for work” thing, and instead just went outside and got down to business when requested.

She must’ve known what was in store for me.

On the bus: An asian schoolchild. I say “child” rather than boy or girl, because I’m really not sure. Everything about this child screamed “boy” - the haircut, facial structure, body shape (I’d put him/her at about 11 years old), shirt, jacket, shoes. But! The plaid skirt and knee socks totally threw me off. Is there a reason a boy would be wearing half of a Catholic schoolgirl’s uniform? Is gender-bending trendy with the elementary set now?

Ok, bus ride over. Work work work at the office. Things seem normal. I go for lunch. I’m walking East on Broadway and some guy is heading West, toward me on the sidewalk. His gait is purposeful. He’s a well-groomed middle-aged man with good hair and a strong jaw. His speech is articulate and he appears to be conducting or discussing business - or at least that’s what I can glean from his phone conversation. He’s talking on a recent-model cell phone, holding it with his left hand, the pinky of which is adorned by a gold ring. Nothing unusual about this. Unless you count the fact that he’s wearing nothing but a blue hospital gown, boxers, and runners without socks.

I was too dumbfounded to get out my cameraphone before he strode away.

A trip to $tarbucks was uneventful, except for the fact that my pumpkin spice latte tastes nothing like pumpkin or spice, and instead tastes like… ass.

I’m just waiting to see what the commute home is going to hold.

Those who knew me well last year know that it was the “Year of Excess” (or YOE if you like acronyms).

In changing jobs from Corporate Cog to Spelunking Coordinator, I managed to swing myself a 30%-ish pay increase and I was fun, fabulous, and single! So you’d better believe I was livin’ large. After all, that sounded much more fun than paying down my student loans faster.

Oh what a year it was!

An approximate count of ticket stubs, photographs, and things in my closet indicate that I:

-Acquired J’Lo (and all of her expensive repair issues)
-Attended about 18 concerts, many at major venues, most of which included acquiring overpriced concert merchandise
-Cheered my way through at least 12 NHL hockey games (and consumed an average of 3 NHL priced beers at each)
-Had my hair done monthly, at an approximate cost of n-$1, where n = the cost to sponsor a half-dozen starving African children for a month
-Acquired enough wardrobe additions to shoe and clothe those starving African children - none of which are appropriate for the new job of course.
-Succumbed fully and completely to my new mistress, the TiVo.

Then all of that culminated in a 10-day Carribean Vacation.

And just when I thought it was all over, we went to Korea.

Aah, the good ol’ days.

And now this year (and don’t all new years really start around September? I far prefer it as a time of new beginnings to January, where after the clock strikes midnight there is nothing new, it still gets dark at 4:30pm, and no more vacation until like… Easter, so welcome to the most depressing 10 weeks of the year… but I digress…)…

This year is the Year of “oh holy hell, we bought a damn house and someone’s gotta pay for that shit (along with the last of the shit Visa paid for toward the end of the YOE) and I can’t believe I’m still making student loan payments.”*

Otherwise known as the “Year of Fiscal Responsibility”, because that other one seriously got way too long.

So steps are being taken to ensure that I can still be fun and fabulous, and acquire new shoes, on a slightly more realistic budget.

And this is where you, lovely readers, come in! If you’d be so kind, please be leaving your answers to the following questions in the comments box:

1. I’m no longer so keen on paying what I do to maintain the bleach beach blonde. What do you suggest I do for a lower-maintenance colour that isn’t just my boring, basic, natural, mousy, ash brown? Note that all drug-store dyes to date have turned my hair varying shades of orange. Current regimen for those who know/care: Full head of foils alternating with top-layer-only of foils every 4-6 weeks.

2. Do you know of any amazing and fabulous and CHEAP concerts coming to town that I can not miss? Because last year I simply bought a pair of tickets to everything - and that is just not gonna fly anymore. Some strategic planning is in order.

3. What are your favourite ideas for some fun, cheap things to do around town for the boy and I to entertain ourselves as the weather gets cooler and the beach becomes a less-viable option? Wanna do a book club? Movie Night? Games Night? We’re in.

4. What are your favourite recipes or meals to make yourself? Because we’ve definitely put the kaibash on going to Chambar or Tatlow’s “because we’re hungry” or “don’t feel like cooking.”

5. What do you feel is an acceptable number of pairs of new shoes for a fiscally responsible woman to acquire over any given season? I happen to think three is appropriate - however there are others who disagree.

6. If I were to have a kissing booth, what would you be willing to pay to pucker up with yours truly? Of course, kisses will be above the neck only, 10 seconds or less, with no tongue. Downside: if Neil gets wind of this idea, the dog may have to stand-in for me. Upside to that? LOTS of tongue.

Thanks all! Best answers get the fantastic prize of…. my undying appreciation!

(What, you thought it would be a prize worth something? I wasn’t kidding about the saving money thing!)
(more…)

Darren’s entered an online viral video contest with a hefty prize - $10,000 to the winner.

He’s come up with a unique idea of what to do with the prize money, should he win:

1. I divide the money into three pools: $4500, $4500 and $1000.
2. $4500 goes to three charities: The David Suzuki Foundation, the Canadian Cancer Society and Amnesty International.
3. I get to keep $4500.
4. Each of the first 20 people who link to the contest (and, naturally, encourage people to vote for my video) get $50 gift certificates to the online store of your choice. You have to email me after you post your link–I’ll reply to you, letting you know if you make the cut of the first 20.

So, here’s my official link to the contest, my vote, and my hearty “good luck” for Mr. Barefoot to win - for himself, the charities, and obviously me!

And, inspired by his philanthropic approach to things, if I am one of the first 20 to link, and Darren wins, I’ll buck up with my own $25 donation to the Canadian Red Cross.

So hey, what are you waiting for? Go. Watch. Vote!

Edited to Add: His is the video with the soldier in the initial frame, titled “No War Required” in the list of entries.

With September comes the inevitable back to school feeling in the air. And this year, like the 3 before it, I won’t be going back. The slightly more noteworthy tidbit though, is that I won’t be going back next year either.

I’ve decided that despite my not-dismal-but-also-not-very-good LSAT score from June, I’m not going to re-write at the end of September. I may use my existing mark to apply to UBC, but I likely won’t. In fact, I likely won’t go to law school at all.

It wasn’t an easy decision to make.

I’ve toyed back and forth with the idea of going to law school since I was in 5th grade. It’s been at the very very back of my mind for the better part of the 16 years since then. It only started to creep back forward last winter. And my reasons for wanting to go were less about wanting to be a Lawyer (I had decided already that I didn’t want to do firm work, I’d rather work in legal at a larger corporation) than about wanting to be a something.

I was smack in the middle of a 2.5 year stint of general life frustration. Yes I know - a lot of people call that time “their 20’s” and welcome to the club. Thanks. It didn’t change the fact that I seemed to keep hitting dead ends in my career, felt pretty disconnected from all of my married or engaged friends, hated dating, had sufered a couple badly bruised hearts from potential relationships going completely awry, and felt like I had absolutely zero reason to stay in Vancouver.

That all added up to the perfect trifecta of excuses to drop out of the “real world” for a while and leave town, in the form of post-graduate education! Law School was a cop out.

I thought it was a good one though! So I broadcast my decision loud and clear to anyone who’d listen. I AM PRE-LAW! HEAR ME ROAR!

But when it came right down to it, I didn’t - and still don’t - have the drive and interest at this point in time to buckle down and study to get the marks I’d need to do well enough on the test to get in. And then what? Another 3 years of academic mediocrity in order to get a degree that meant escape more than achievement.

Still, it’s hard to admit that I’ve changed my mind. It feels a little like giving up.

Except letting that precarious plan go means the chance to have a far more rewarding future. I’m finally in a job where I feel smart again - where I feel that my talents and experience are finally being used to their full potential. I feel challenged in a good way, instead of bashing my head against my desk in fits of futility.

And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that being in a relationship hasn’t had some impact on the decision as well.

That’s the hardest part to tell people. I’ve always been strong and independent and Ain’t Nobody Gonna Mess With My Vibe, Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down - Oh No, etc. And I’m giving it all up… for… a guy?

Not quite.

Going back to school wasn’t a self-improvement pursuit for me as much as it was running away from my life as it was. Just leaving town for a new city for no reason seemed far too risky - going for school was far more acceptable. And truth be told, Neil would love to see me go back to school, not only because he wants me to succeed and be happy, but because he doesn’t want to be perceived at all as “that guy” who made me give up my dream.

And this is the part where I have to admit that there is a small, very small, warm glimmer of molten something inside my otherwise cold, dead, black, crusty heart. I didn’t have Ridiculously High Standards for nothing. And I think the voracity with which I took on dating, and the speed at which I would toss any number of potential suitors aside because they somehow offended my delicate sensibilities does indicate that I wouldn’t just settle for someone. In spite of myself, I seem to have stumbled into “the real deal” or whatever the kids are calling it these days.

So now, I’m not an “alone-but-not-lonely (exceptkindoflonelyanyway) single gal” anymore. And I don’t hate my job. And life is otherwise going really well right now. Sorry Law School. Three-strikes and you’re out.

Anyone want a Kaplan LSAT 2006 study program? I know where you can get one for cheap.

Please consider this a formal request to have a hair/makeup/photography team follow me around for always.

If you can promise me this, I promise that I will never be as ubiquitous-for-no-good-reason as Paris Hilton, never be as annoying as Jessica Simpson, never dress like Mary Kate Olsen, and never marry my ugly underling a la Britney Spears.

Also, World, I would like to let you know that if you can accommodate my humble request, I will spent my days looking like this:

Instead of like this:

Which I’m sure is best for everyone involved.

Thanks in advance.

Champagne Kisses & Caviar Dreams!
-Jen