Just so y’all are aware, I live with a thieving thief!
I know that back in the day he was initially interested in me because of this blog.
And it’s obvious he already stole my heart.
But did he have to steal the Water Cooler water too?
People, you will not BELIEVE who emailed me yesterday.
New to the WaterCooler? Want to re-live my night of horror? Go back and (re-)read that post. I’ll wait. Finished? Let’s carry on then.
The email was very brief:
Subject: Long Time…
Body: Haven’t talked to you in months. What’s new?
Hmm…. let’s see… what’s been going on with me in the past nine months….
I swore off online dating.
Booked a trip to Grand Cayman.
Was introduced by friends to the man o’ my dreams.
Went on aforementioned trip.
Returned to aforementioned man, with whom I’ve been pretty inseperable ever since.
Went to Korea with the man in May.
Moved in with the man (thus excising myself from the ‘burbs to Kitsilano) in July.
Was recruited and moved to a new job in August.
Oh, and bought a condo in Kits as well, though it won’t be finished until next summer.
I relayed that information in my response, followed up by a “what’s new with you?”
I have yet to receive a reply.
Pity, I was a teensy bit curious.
Hear Ye, Hear Ye!
I have some hockey tickets for sale. All tickets will be sold as pairs for $100, which was my cost for them as a season’s ticket holder.
They’re in section 321 (Canucks attacking zone, between the blue line and the goal line, players’ bench side), row 13. Regular cost is $64.25 EACH plus ticketbastard fees (brings the price per ticket over $70).
Please leave a comment, or email if you’re interested in any of the following games:
Thursday November 30 vs. Anaheim Ducks SOLD!
Saturday December 2 vs. Colorado Avalanche (premium game - that means TM charges EVEN MORE) SOLD!
Friday December 8 vs. Carolina Hurricanes SOLD!
Saturday December 16 vs. Minnessota Wild SOLD!
All gone folks. Thanks for playing!
It’s the end of an era people. J’Lo has officially moved on to greener pastures. Or Coquitlam. Whatever.
The important thing is that she’s no longer my problem. Hooray!
Those of you who’ve been playing along at home for a little while will realize that this leaves the Wiederick/Watkiss household carless! Except not quite.
We joined the Co-operative Auto Network!
But instead of telling you about that, I’m going to go roll around in my small pile of cash before it goes to the bank. I’ll gush all about C.A.N. tomorrow.
I think it’s nearly impossible to live in Vancouver for a certain amount of time, and not eventually develop a liking for at least one soy product.
Don’t get me wrong, I love meat. And not in the PETA way - in the kill and devour it charred and bloody way.
But I also really like edamame, agedashi tofu, and soy beverage (for its own sake, not as a milk substitute). As do most other people I know.
What I don’t like - in fact I consider it a complete abomination of food as we know it - is soy products masquerading as meat.
Tofurkey, Fake-on, Ground Round… If you’re going to be vegetarian or vegan that’s fine, but that means you DON’T GET TO ENJOY THE MEAT. Enough torturing the market with your sad and inadequate meat substitutes. I don’t even want to know how you mimic the flavour of turkey using no animal products.
So it was much to my surprise, that I encountered the following recipe for a cake made with tofu, that’s actually DELICIOUS and a pretty much constant coffee cake standby for when guests drop in (which in reality means the man and I end up eating it all our damn selves because who just “drops by” on anyone anymore?):
1. Take 1 Betty Crocker Cake Mix
2. Empty cake mix into food processor or mixer
3. Add 1 package of Surise or Pete’s Tofu dessert tofu. Blend
4. Add 1/4 cup of water. Blend just until mixed. Note: do not add eggs or oil
5. Bake as directed on box.
It really is just that easy. And it tastes GOOD. It does not taste like a regular cake-in-a-box, rather it’s much more moist and dense. Just like a coffee cake. I make mine in a fluted pan, although you could certainly use regular cake or cupcake tins as well.
The best thing about it is that it doesn’t taste like a “cake substitute.” It just tastes like dessert. Tofu because it’s tasty - not as a piss-poor substitute that will only leave you longing for the way things used to be, before you grew a beer gut and/or an environmental conscience.
Another fun bit, for me anyway, is playing with flavour combinations. The two I’ve had the most success with are a French Vanilla cake with Peach-Mango tofu and a Devil’s Food cake with Caramel tofu (excellent warmed up a bit and served with vanilla ice cream, and liberally doused with Blackberry dessert wine) .
Think it can’t get better? OH YOU’D BE WRONG.
Not only does this not taste like tofu, it’s also one of the lowest fat/calorie desserts you’ll ever enjoy:
Made the regular way (oil & eggs), a serving of Betty Crocker cake (1/12 of the total batch) will ring in at 120 Calories, 11g of Fat, and 45mg of Cholesterol.
Using tofu instead? One serving (same size) is a mere 35 Calories, 0.5g Fat and 0g Cholesterol.
Considering the holidays are coming up, you may want to introduce this to your kitchen, as an alternate temptation to the mincemeat tarts and shortbread that I’m sure will be making their way around soon. Consider the recipe a holiday gift from my stomach to yours!
Effing hell, I nearly forgot to blog today! NaBloPoMo almost got me, but lo, I’ve made it nearly halfway!
Not that I have anything interesting to say mind you - but according to the rules, I have to put something here, so here you have it.
Since I don’t really have anything of substance to say, anybody wanna buy a car?
J’Lo is officially for sale. I’ve had enough of her shenanegans, and am ready to pass her onto someone else. On to bigger and better repairs er, things. I’m sure as soon as I get rid of her she’ll go another 100,000kms without needing anything more than an oil change - just to spite me.
In the meantime, drop me a line if anyone out there knows of someone who wants a good little city runabout - or if you know of a place (other than craigslist) I can get her some attention, and ultimately a new owner.
It can never be a good thing when I have No One Cares What You Had for Lunch: 100 Ideas for Your Blog and an old diary in the same room.
In the spirit of Suggestion #7 - Examine Your Paperwork, I give you you, my diary entry from January 23rd, 1995 (I was 14.5 years old at that point). If this doesn’t meet your teenaged angst quota for the rest of 2006, then frankly, I’m not sure what will. Spelling and grammatical errors included for your enjoyment.
————————————————–
Dear Diary,
Sorry I haven’t written in a while, but nothing much has happened. Today however was completely different. For awhile I’ve liked Shaun M***. He’s a complete sweetheart, & he likes me too. Unfortunately, Christian just found & Shaun just happens to be his best friend. Christian told Sue-Anne he wanted to beat the shit outta Shaun. I told Shaun, now Shaun’s scared Shitless. I got mad at Christian, now Christian told Sue-Anne who told Shawn who told me that if he has to live without me (I told him I wanted to break up with him), He doesn’t want to live at all, he’s gonna kill himself.
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Sarah Brown, inspiration for this idea, and founder of Cringe, mentioned that if reading the diary entry makes you physically cringe, it’s funny.
God I hope so, for your sake.
Outside the Thai House, next to Spence Diamonds this afternoon:
Dude 1: smoking on the stairs between the Thai House and Spence
Dude 2: runs out of Spence to put money in his meter
Dude 1: You know, Spence has free parking in the back…
Dude 2: (shrugs) Ah well, too late now.
Dude 1: Yah, I suppose that compared to what you’re about to spend in there, 50 cents isn’t really an issue right now.
One of my favourite memories from being in Korea was once when we were talking with some of the soldiers (all in their 20s) about dating, etc.
On one of the bases in Seoul is a statue of a Korean soldier who died for his company when he leapt on an active grenade. When the grenade blew, he died, but absorbed the entire blast, so his fellow soldiers were spared.
When these soldiers go on a group date (very common in Korean culture), generally one soldier always gets stuck with the “ugly girl.”
Once the group has split off into pairs for a bit of snogging before the night is over, it’s tradition for that lucky guy to take the girl on a romantic stroll past the statue and tell the story of that brave, brave soldier who took one for the team.
Half a world away, and the more things change, the more they remain the same.
Dear Client,
I know you want me to “spin” this piece a certain way. Sure, that’s what I do.
But first, let me explain this to you:
Spin means writing something in a way that accentuates the positives and downplays the negatives of your product and situation.
Spin is NOT using as many large, flowery, meaningless words as possible to confuse the audience when they hear a bunch of content that doesn’t actually say anything. It is also not talking down to them, and treating them as if they are children who “wouldn’t understand anyway.”
The ability to spin, in my experience, is not unlike the Jedi Force. It can not be learned. It must be granted, and can only be nurtured.
Oh client, the force is NOT with you.
So please, put down the weapon pen and just let me do my job.
Kisses,
-Jen
Some lovely reader out there has nominated my blog for the Canadian Blog Awards.
Colour me flattered!
WorldWideWaterCooler is nominated in both the “Best Humour Blog” and “Best Personal Blog” categories.
Whoever send in the nominations, thanks so much.
Nominations close November 12th, and you can vote for your favourites starting on the 15th.
One of the culinary frontiers I hadn’t explored until today was shellfish. I don’t mean eating (I’m an old pro at that one), I mean preparing in my own kitchen.
I doubt I would’ve made it there, had I not possessed an excess of wine in the fridge that needed to be cooked with.
(Wine that went off with surprising regularity in our slightly-too-hot apartment in the pre-wine-fridge days.)
The man loves mussels, I’m pretty fond of them, and allrecipes.com said they were fantastically simple. So why not?
Well the recipe was right, they were DEAD easy. Dead, as in, I killed 1/3 of them by leaving them in the bag too long. Did you know mussels need to breathe? Yah. I didn’t either. In fact, there was a whole bunch of stuff I didn’t know about cleaning mussels.
No matter. It was all done in fairly short order, and the recipe we used was easy and tasty.
Unfortunately, the mussels were just a bit too… real.
The flesh of these fresh sea-treats was huge & meaty. Much more so than from any restaurant I’ve had them at. And while I usually enjoy mussels, the texture of these ones turned me off a little.
Ok, a lot.
The rule has generally been that I prefer food I’ve made in my own kitchen. It’s somewhat disappointing to form a new relationship with an ingredient, only to find out that the ingredient is “not that into you.”
Have I just been subjected to shitty mussels all these years? Did I inadvertently happen to get some juiced up “kitsilano meathead” mussels - all bulk and no substance? Could I have done something differently?
In any case, I’ll probably try shellfish again someday (especially if you, gentle readers, leave some tips or advice for me), but not until I’ve soothed my poor, brokenhearted, disappointed palate with some tea and girlguide cookies.
I got a lovely wee package in the mail yesterday. TiVo was sharing some love, in the form of an apron! WooHoo!
They sent it because I was supposed to host a TiVo tasting party (they loaded my box with a bunch of content, with the intention of sharing it with my friends), which I never did get around to.
But I sing the praises of the TiVo often enough, and pimp the TiVo love all over town, so I don’t feel guilty accepting the gift anyway.
I’ve already given it an inaugural run, and covered it in spaghetti sauce splatters from tonight’s dinner.
Neil also gave it a trial run while prepping salad. I’ve included that particular photo under the cut. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. (more…)
The Man and I are driving his parents to Seattle tonight after work, so they can catch a flight to Korea from SeaTac airport.
Clearly I haven’t ventured outside Canada since my own trip to the peninsula, because when I went to dig for our passports in the drawer where such things are kept, I found these.
Sixteen postcards I’d intended to send while in Korea, that I never even managed to write on, let alone address and mail.
Oops.
Considering the cards are doing me absolutely no good at all sitting in a drawer, I figured I should send them anyway - albeit a bit late.
So if anyone out there in blogland would like a postcard from Korea (albeit with a Canadian postmark), leave a comment or email with your address, and I promise I’ll actually send them this time!
Those who know me at all know that I am not what you’d call “kid friendly.” I’ve been known to make small children cry just by looking at them, and I wish I were exaggerating even a little bit about that.
So it was with only a little apprehension that I went over to Neil’s friends Ben & Julie’s place for dinner last night.
Thankfully Ben and Julie are extraordinarily lovely people, because they are also parents to a not-quite-two-year-old.
Also helping matters was the fact that Louis is one of the most charming not-quite-two-year-olds I’ve ever encountered.
Although when the clock struck bedtime for dear Louis, I was tested as I’ve never been tested before.
Kiddo was pushing a big box around the table, as the over 3-feet tall crowd sat and digested. Suddenly, Neil decided he’d see what happened when he took the box away.
Disaster struck.
Thanks Neil.
Poor wee Louis erupted into a fountain of tears and reached for the closest adult.
Me.
What could I do?
I picked up the child (oh god - I touched one!) and he buried his face in my shoulder.
I thought, miracle of miracles, that would be enough.
But not unlike dogs, small kids can also smell fear.
Louis pulled back, and instead of his mom, there was some strange woman’s face looking back at him.
Realizing his terrible mistake, Louis “kicked it up a notch,” contorted his face a la Jim Carey in The Mask, and let out a wail that would shatter crystal and send every dog in a 6 block radius running.
I sat paralysed for what felt like forever (read: 4 seconds) until Julie stepped in and whisked him off to bed.
Between that, and dressing the dog as Snow White, it’s a wonder that the Ministry of Children hasn’t pre-emptively sterilized me yet.
