Hope for the Cynic

Overdue and OVER IT.

2012-09-04T09:41:00.003-07:00

Well like almost every other person that's had a baby I too have gone over my due date! I was prepared for this and I'm really not surprised but what I am surprised by is how impatient I've become. I really thought I would be just mentally prepared for going about a week to 10 days over before going into labour. Turns out I'm just not quite that easy going. After 40 weeks of this I just don't have a lot more to give. I know the baby is fully formed and only getting fatter by the day so at this point it just seems like a cruel joke for it to hang out in there much longer. PLUS I want to find out what it is! I'm dying to know the sex and just to lay my eyes on it for the first time.

It's crazy at this point how things change day to day. I guess it could be because my skin is literally splitting at the seams and my body is at it's personal breaking point. I know I'm not THAT large but I think for me this is the biggest I can go. Rolling over has become a chore and getting anymore that 1 consecutive hour of sleep hasn't happened for me in awhile. Which I guess it just my body training for the massive lack of sleep that is my future. I am really looking very forward to not getting up 5+ times a night to go pee. Oh well it's not like I have to get up for work in the morning (which is SO awesome)!

I was reading on another blog recently about what it feels like to be overdue and what she was saying made perfect sense to me. She said it's like your due date is Christmas but then on the morning of your told Christmas has been postponed indefinitely. Not only are you not getting Christmas that day but you have NO clue when Christmas will actually arrive over the next 2 weeks. So you wake up every morning thinking maybe TODAY is Christmas... but then it's not. Everyone is also asking you WHEN Christmas will be like you're Santa or something. That is really what it feels like and prepared or not it is not fun.

On the plus side I know within one week I will be holding my baby and this will all be worth it. I've had it pretty good over the past 10 months and I really shouldn't be whining. Well I think I will go re-clean my already spotless house and hope that today is the day... or tomorrow would be good too. I hope you all are enjoying your mobility and restful nights of sleep!

STILL gaining weight for a good cause..

2012-07-16T12:18:00.000-07:00

Wow I can't believe it's been 2 months since I last posted anything. You would think with all this spare sober time I would have be posting every second day! Things are going really good with me, getting larger by the day it seems. Only 7 weeks to go until my due date, thank the sweet lord. I'm not one to whine and complain about all the horrors of pregnancy because overall it's really not that bad. I will say that once you hit the 30 week point everything gets just a little less great. If you think about it that's only 1/4 of the pregnancy that's not so fun.. well and the first 10 weeks too but who's counting?!

Kristy and I have been really busy with our little cake business this summer. We're fully booked until the end of August which is great because it's really making time fly by. Here's the link to our facebook page, feel free to 'like' us and drool over all of our desserts - https://www.facebook.com/candyapplebakeshop

I honestly don't know what to rant about.. this is so strange....and boring. I can say that I only have 5 weeks of work left and THAT is exciting. As if I have a year of leisure ahead of me, it's going to be grand. That's obviously that reason I have nothing to complain about right now. Plus the weather has been glorious and even though I'm sweating my ass off with these extra 20 lbs I'm hauling around it's totally worth it. How is it that the sun just puts EVERYONE is such a good mood?! Well I better put these last 5 weeks at work to use. Next post I'll be sure to have some thing interesting to say.. or better yet a GORY birth story! Something that will haunt your dreams and even make the youtube birth videos seem like a joke... because if it's not that bad I'll just lie to you anyways. Enjoy the sun and that fact that your not as big as me!

Gaining weight for a good cause..

2012-05-10T13:07:00.002-07:00

Finally a post that isn't about our glorious Euro-Trip so you can stop being jealous. I guess some updates are in order because lots has been going on for Carey and I. We're having a baby! I'm due Sept 2, so currently I'm 6 months pregnant. After Europe we had nothing to look forward to so it seemed like the right time, lol. Anyways we are really excited and I can't WAIT to meet the little one. It's going by strangely fast now, but then I think about this child being in my belly for another 4 months and I get a little worried. I just hope it keeps flying by like it has so far.

Who would have thought I would have ever been off the sauce this long?! What I would do for an ice cold beer... Many people told me in the past that not drinking while your pregnant is no big deal and that you don't even want a drink. Those people lied. Obviously it's not THAT hard because nothing is worth damaging my unborn baby but by no means is it easy. We're just hitting the peak drinking season, summer. On on hand I'm thinking that's good news because summer always flies by. On the other hand I'm thinking that it usually flies by because I'm drunk all the time. I guess I'll soon find out.

We are also attempting to sell our house. Not really because we need a bigger place for the baby more so because that was just our game plan all along. We don't want to move while I'm a whale (even though that's pretty much already happened) so we're hoping it sells before July. If not we'll just take it off the market and live there for another year. Now that everything is done on our house is seems like a waste to just leave. I can't decide what I even want to happen, I guess we'll just wait and see.

I've just recently started buying baby stuff. Everyone says having a baby is expensive but I really think it is what you make it. There is literally everything you could need on craigslist. I just got a crib with mattress and sheets (from some clean looking people) for $125. I had NO idea there were people out there spending $500+ on a crib. Maybe this makes me a selfish Mom but there is NO way this baby is getting anything worth that much. Me giving it nourishment and room to grow in my womb should be more than enough. Pretty much my new past time is bargain hunting for baby items. It's a great way to pass long days at work.

There's a few things about being pregnant that are worth a minute of ranting. Well there's many things I can rant about but we'll start with the strange fascination with pregnant woman. We are a guilty of it. Finding out someone is knocked up and making a religious point of checking their facebook for updates or better yet, pictures. Random strangers in the street with give you a smile and nod of approval like you alone are re-populating earth. Sometimes they don't stop with the smile and nod they actually ask details about the pregnancy. The most over used questions is whether or not we're finding out the gender. It's hilarious because when I say that we're not finding out people usually respond with a pat on the back like I'm doing humanity this huge favour. I accept the pat on the back of course but what difference does it make to them?

I obviously have to dedicate at least one paragraph to the fact that I'm in the middle of gaining between 25-35 lbs. Grab a couple dumbbells and see what that feels like. It's a lot. The worst part is I'm terrified of gaining more. After I got back from Europe I would say I was about 10 lbs from my optimal weight, then soon after I blew out my knee in soccer which put me out of sports and the gym for about 10 weeks. So needless to say when I got pregnant I was NOT at my ideal weight. I've been hitting the gym twice a week ever since I found out I was prego just to avoid an 80 lbs weight gain, but it has not been easy. I need knee surgery to repair my meniscus which I can't have until after the baby is born so with the extra poundage, bum knee and large belly getting in the way it hasn't been a cake walk. I'm going to continue going as long as I physically can because I hate being fat more than anything. One thing I just cant get used to is hoping on the scale and just watching the numbers so up. Baby or not it just feel wrong!

Well lets just hope this baby is worth it. If it comes out looking anything like baby Carey I think it will be!

Euro Trip - Oktoberfest

2012-05-10T11:15:00.000-07:00

I started this post well over a month ago and just never finished it.. I'm sick of talking about Europe so this one will be short and sweet and I'll post something more exciting ASAP!

This will be my last post about our glorious trip to Europe. I just wanted to get it all on here so I could look back and remember it all. Seriously though, we've been back for 6 months and I think it's time to move on lol. I figure I'll leave out the last week that Carey and I spent in Spain because lounging the sun by the pool while reading the Hunger Games Trilogy because that doesn't make for the best story. Also sad to say I won't go into detail about our time in Northern Germany and Amsterdam but I will say it was just as grand as everything was before and I won't forget it. What I will tell you about was our two days in Munich at Okoberfest..

We got to our campsite just outside of Munich at about 4pm. We had a few plans for the evening. Firstly to get into the downtown area so we could get the lay of the land. Also we had decided it was completely necessary to track down lederhosen and dirndl so we would fit in with all the real Germans (sorry Carey, you hardly qualify). We set up camp.. by that I mean we parked our rig, and headed out to grab the bus. The bus took us to the train and from there we just followed the crowd. We arrived by the time it was just getting dark. We cruised around and took in the sights and a couple brats (obviously!). We ended up getting seats in an outdoor beer garden which worked out just wonderfully for us. Drank enough glasses (litres) of beer to be feeling pretty great and enjoyed some salty pretzels. We still made it back to our campsite in one piece at a fairly reasonable hour, we had a big day ahead of us.

Our big day at Oktoberfest started pretty early. We were up and ready by around 9am. We were dressed to impress and looking forward to a glorious day. On top of it all it was Brett's birthday so we had plans to make this one count. Today we all blended in pretty well in our new outfits, except people were not impressed by our footwear. Apparently regardless of the heat your supposed to wear big ass boots and wool socks with your lederhosen. I don't think we had any regrets with our sandals once we got into the hot and sweaty tents.

We looked around until we found a tent that had tables. Well they all had available tables at that point, it was 10am. Most of them are reserved at 3pm and you get the boot when the reservations (which are sold out months in advance) show up. We ended up in the Ochsenbraterei Tent which turned out to be a great choice. We were allowed to stay as long as we pleased, so we sat down knowing this would be our spot for the day. We knew we had a looong day of drinking ahead of us so we did the logical thing and ordered some breaky with our first steins of beer. I knew the food would be good but it was actually better than I imagined. You know when you eat something SO delish that you actually want to puke after just so you could potentially eat it all over again? That's how we felt all day long.

As the day carried on things just kept getting better and better. Our beer maid was around enough to keep our beers filled, the only issue is drinking them fast enough so they don't get warm. We were fighting the heat in there and those beers take awhile to consume. We made some German friends and did about 1000 prosts. A little later after several litres Carey went a little hard on his glass hitting and smashed his stein. Honestly I have no idea how because those things are like an inch thick.

Carey's uncle (well sort of, more of a great cousin lol) Hans joined us for a few hours of drinking. I don't know if it's a German thing of if it's just Carey's distant relatives but everyone we met up with over there was SO nice. Hans bought us a round of beer and some more food for our bellies. He we probably just concerned about how drunk we already were by 2pm, but it's the thought that counts. Hans left before we really started getting embarrassing, from what I recall at least?

Like any normal North Americans we made the drinking portion into a bit of a competition and kept track of how many litres we were putting back. Which is not easy when you've been drinking litres of beer all day long but the final tally was 8 litres for Brett and Carey and 6 litres for Kristy and I. That's about 3 beer cans per litre, you do the math. This was accompanied by many trips to the washroom and at least 1 litre of water from what I remember. The water was actually just as much money as the beer so it hardly seemed worth it.

Around 7pm people start getting pretty rowdy, for obvious reasons. Everyone stood up on the benches and the music got a little louder. This is what I imagined for Okoberfest! Of course we've been drinking since well before noon while sitting on our asses. Getting up and standing for long periods of time made us realize we had in fact drank close to 20 beer each. By about 9pm Kristy and I were starting to fade. Well I don't know is fade is the right word or not, we could barely stand or keep our eyes open. We staggered out for some energy, a couple foot long hot dogs and potato pancakes. Here's Kristy in fine form enjoy her dog:

& here's a group shot of the dream team early in the day:

Kristy and I made a few wrong turns on the way back, the train system wasn't as easy as it was on day one. We made it back without any real problems though. Carey and Brett weren't quite as lucky. They were only about an hour behind us (but probably didn't think to have some brain food before heading to the train... foot long dog always makes the difference). From what we've heard Carey was sitting on the train barking orders at Brett to get them home, I can't remember why but for some reason this was solely Brett's job. Brett of course can't see a THING because he's blind as a bat and has downed a flat of beer to himself. Carey refuses to help him read the train schedule which is on the train ceiling above the door. At some point Brett decides he should jump off at the next stop and get a quick look at the bigger map outside the train. Carey continues to sit there and yell at Brett. Brett is not as fast and limber as he thought and he doesn't get back on the train in time. Now he is stuck in the middle of nowhere (they were going the wrong way already) alone and blind. Carey finally gets up and looks at the map notices he is going the wrong way, gets off the train and hops on the next one back. He make it back to the campsite without issue. Brett on the other hand ends up at a stop that isn't very popular and has to wait 30 mins for the next train. I honestly don't think we'll ever know what happens after that. We always put one of the campsite cards in Brett's wallet for times likes these and after a few hours he also made it back. At that point we were all fast asleep caring very little about his well being.

Overall this was the BEST trip of my life. It still seems surreal that it's came and went. I hope to get back to Europe at some point when I'm older and rich but unless those lotto numbers pull through it will be awhile. To anyone that's thinking about doing a trip like this stop being a wussy and GO. It's worth the thousands of dollars of debt... and I love money so take that seriously. I'm lucky to have such a good posse to travel with. Even though I know I've threatened each of their lives at some point along the way I wouldn't have done it with anyone else.

EURO TRIP - Switzerland & Germany

2012-03-07T13:14:00.015-08:00

Switzerland is the land 'o plenty; Plenty of beauty, chocolate and money. This place seriously makes you feel like you're in the sound of music. It was very much a highlight on our trip. However after enjoying Germany so cheaply it was truly shocking how much everything costs just a hours drive south. We decided to go for it obviously, our visas will just have to be dealt with back in boring North America. You really can't put a price of the Switzerland experience!

We stayed in a town called Interlaken. Any idiots who (like myself) can sit through the Bachelor might recognize this lovely place. The drive in was seriously unbelievable. It's hard to really believe something like that exists until you see it with you own eyes. Poor Brett was sleeping off sassafras in the back and missed out on it. Oh well, there's always next time lol. We got to a nice campsite on the river that connected the two lakes. Interlaken actually means "between two lakes". The river was the brightest color, a mix of green and blue. Actually it reminded me of blue koolaid (which reminds me I could use a glass of that in my near future). The colors there are like nothing I've seen anywhere. We walked around that afternoon exploring the town. We ended up buying tickets for the tram up to one of the mountain towns for later that evening.

We left that night around 6 for Wegen which was about 4000 feet up. The views from our tram were amazing and if you ever make it to Interlaken you must head up the mountain to one of the many towns. It was about an hour trip up. We walked around the town trying to find the most reasonably priced place for dinner. Nothing was even close to reasonable so we settled on insanely expensive. We had the most delicious dinner with a couple bottles of wine. We learned that roquette is in fact a type of cheese, not a fondue. Either way it was heavenly. After eating ourselves sick we had about 30 minutes before the last tram down so we went for a cruise. Lucky we had also had the smarts to bring a couple bottles of wine in our backpack as well. We stumbled upon a group of 4 guys with Swiss horns.. of course we did, this place is just like in the movies. They played them in the street while a group gathered around. They weren't even busking for money, just playing for our entertainment. Then again with the prices there what are they going to be able to buy with chump change anyway?

We would have loved to stay for a whole week but time was a ticking and there were still many places on the agenda. After 2 days in lovely Switzerland we were heading back to Germany. One the way out we decided to start fresh and have Brett empty the tank before we got back to the mother land. This time was not as enjoyable as the first dump. This was probably for a mixture of two reasons. The blue puck made it in this time making the smell much less violent and I think all the cheese we ingested over the past two days had most of us pretty backed up. I still wouldn't say Brett got off lucky or anything, it was still insanely revolting.

We drove to the border and took a ferry across the lake back to Germany and landed in Meersberg for the afternoon. It was a very German town that even had a medieval castle. Of course Carey and Brett had us take the 3 hour tour which fell just short of exhilarating. Our afternoon in Meersberg was quite nice regardless. It looked just like I had always imaged Germany to look. We continued on the coast of Lake Constance for awhile and got a good look at the Bavarian landscape. I think when people imagine Germany they are really just envisioning Bavaria. I have to say it was my favorite German state. One minute it felt like we were on a wine tour in the interior of BC and shortly after we were in a lush green forest. Actually a lot of German country side reminded me of home.

We rolled into a nice campsite for the night near Fussen. Even though the campsite was pretty full there was next to no one around. I think people just lived in their trailers there? So pretty much we felt right at home. We poured ourselves some bevs and relaxed for awhile. It was cooler there than it had been for us so far so we took the opportunity to enjoy our motor coach.

We set off to find an authentic German restaurant. This wasn't hard considering the town we were staying in only had about 300 residents, everything was pretty authentic. Our waitress (dressed in dirndl) spoke about as much English as we did German. We just went for the point and pick on the menu and managed to order a couple steins of beer. When the food arrived (which we had initially agreed to share to be safe), Carey and Brett both ended up with legit meals while I got a plate of sliced head cheese and Kristy got an ice cold bowl of gelatin soup. We embraced our decisions and ate what we could of our meals. We tried to order more edible food but the waitress wasn't picking up what we were putting down so we called it a day. The owner of the restaurant found out there were some Canadians dining upstairs and came up to greet us. He reminded me of Santa, a jolly old guy with a big white beard who you just can't help but like (even if he's sweater profusely from his walk up the stairs). Anyways he was outraged when he found out we could read the menu and he wasn't too pleased at our waitress and informed us it was her last night. He said he was going to send us a special dessert. A few minutes later a plate arrived with these donut looking things that were covered in cinnamon sugar and topped with a couple scoops of vanilla ice cream. We were all drooling. Then 3 more plates show up. Turns out in Germany you don't have to share your dessert. I love Germany.

We waddled back to our motor home to play our next rounds of fortune and chance... I want this to end on a good note so lets pause there. More soon!

EURO TRIP - Germany Part 1

2012-02-10T11:05:00.000-08:00

We traveled north to Frankfurt where we met my sister Kristy and her new fiaaaaanceee Brett. They just got engaged a few days before near Paris so some celebrating was in order. We met up with them at the train station and hopped on another train which took us to our motorhome rental. Once we got to the rental depot we were greeted by Klaus ( a condescending asshole) who told us we were required to watch a 30 minute video before we could take the motorhome. This video left us with a few questions.. most importantly, HOW do you empty the shit tank?

Here in Canada we empty our shit tanks in the most human way possible. This usually involves a hose and a lever so you're never having to see whats been building up in your tank over your lovely holiday. Also they are quite large and can hold a substantial amount of human waste. In most ways Europeans are a step ahead of us. They don't have homeless people begging on every street corner, they're all bilingual, they have free university and they have the best public transit systems around. So WHY are these clearly smarter, more educated people creating motorhomes with thimble sized shit tanks that have to be manually dumped!?

After a short argument with Klaus, that German prick, we hit the open road. First things first, we knew we had to sort out some kind of schedule for who would be dumping that mini shit tank. It was clear it was going have to be done several times over the next week. There was no time for games of fortune and chance so to start it off we decided first one to use the bathroom had to empty it. This was actually Kristy's idea and quite genius. She informed me that Brett has a woman sized bladder and would most definitely crack first. Just to be safe I cautiously sipped my Heineken until Brett like a 5 year old girl, just couldn't hold it any longer. I guess the overall excitement had clouded Brett's judgement because Kristy and I can both drink a 6 pack of beer before going pee once. Plus our competitive spirit probably would have had us puking up our pee before losing at a game like that. Anyways, we'll revisit this topic later when Brett had to revisit our excrement somewhere between Stuttgart and Freiburg.

First stop, Stuttgart. It was our first night in Germany and we wanted to land somewhere fun for the evening. Of course the traffic through Frankfurt was bad and the drive to Stuttgart was longer than we had hoped. Our GPS, Rosa, took us directly to the city center. We learned a valuable lesson that night, you can take an eight foot high motor home just anywhere. We planned to find a parking lot and then hit the town of course all the parking in the middle of a city is underground and there are height limits for that. After a few arguments we found ourselves in the train station parking lot. This was our first night of urban camping. Before long we were enjoying some schnitzel and drinks. On our way back we tried to find a liquor store or a bar which of course was impossible. Luckily we had all hit the duty free pretty hard on our travels into Europe so the motor home was fully stocked. After some night caps the lulling sound of the train station put us all to sleep. It turned out the urban camping had it's bonuses, coffee and pastries just steps away inside the train station! After a wholesome breakfast we were back on the road and this time we planned to make it to a real campsite.

We drove to Freisburg on day two but not before Brett became better acquainted with the dumping of the shit tank. I've actually attached a few pictures so you can get a real idea of the kind of joy we felt watching Brett dump out our shit while blowing chunks. This was also when we realized we forgot to put the little blue puck the kills the smell in the tank before hand... oops!

Great times... Once Brett recovered made the short drive into Freiburg. This was such a cool town and Rosa led us to a great campsite. We settled in to our campsite and started to enjoy some beverages. This is when the first game of fortune and chance took place. Loser dumps the next full tank. Brett of course thought he was exempt from even playing but after a quick vote it was decided he was fully eligible. You can probably guess what happened next.. Brett's demise. When you go into a game with that much fear you don't stand a chance. The rest of us were on top of the world after our win and took celebratory dumps in the bathroom while Brett cried outside. Kidding, sort of.

We went out that night for some drinks and long story short the loss got the best of old Brett. I wont go into details but he was a complete moron that night. I'm still surprised we made it out of that town with Brett at all. It seems like he has some kind of homing device. Somehow he always made it back to the motor home, no matter how hard we try to lose him. After a morning of shame and sassafras (Brett's bitchy alter ego) we were on our way to another extremely cheap and delicious bakery for snacks then back on the road. Next stop was Interlaken, Switzerland...

EURO TRIP - France & Austria

2011-12-20T11:38:00.000-08:00

After a week in Italy Carey and I were heading to the South of France. The drive alone made the 4 hour detour worth it. No wonder there's a toll every hour, how else are they ever going to pay for the 10,000 tunnels that make up the hwy from Italy to France? Of course when we first started going through the tunnels I did what any mature adult would do, hold my breath. Carey got a kick out of this because some of the tunnels ended up being ridiculously long and watching me starve for oxygen really seemed to make his day. After about 40 minutes of huge tunnels with very small gaps in between and no end in sight I started to feel pretty light headed and had to call it a day on the breath holding. I've got to hold on to the precious brain cells I've got left.

When I was imagining the South of France I had pictured us lounging on the beach, working on our tans with a bunch of topless ladies with hairy pits. Surprisingly enough that's not at all how our 3 days there went. We were staying in a small town just outside of Cannes called La Napoule and a seriously awesome hotel called Corniche d'Or for about 50 euro a night. This got us a room with a balcony (about 3' by 6') which had a view of the town courtyard just a few steps away from the most amazing grocery store and bakery known to man. We did spend one day at the beach, which was absolutely beautiful. The bulk of our time was spent people watching from the balcony and of course me kicking Carey's ass at every dice/card game possible while eating countless baguettes.

One day after stocking up at the market across the street with a few liters of wine (which is very cheap but substantially less drinkable than cheap Italian wine) a problem arose. Long story short I had somehow dropped both of our pens down into the much larger unused patio below. I was feeling pretty good at this point, a little tipsy and still kicking ASS at dice. I had to get those pens back asap. We had noticed earlier that other guests from the hotel hung up their room keys as they left on a hook at the front. Being suspicious distrusting Canadians we never did this. How perfect for this situation though! I would just cruise down and grab the room key for the room below us.

When I got to the lobby area there was only one man there t checking out the brochures, so I felt pretty safe snatching the key and running back up the stairs. Thinking back this probably looked extremely conspicuous. I climbed three flights of stairs to the door of room 7 and knocked on it a few times waiting about 2 seconds before letting myself in calling out "house keeeeepinnnggg" just to be safe lol. Once I was in I saw that someone was in fact staying in the room but luckily was not home. I then clued into the fact that I was really breaking into some guys room and started to PANIC. What if he caught me in here? What would I say? I don't even speak french. Great now I'm going to be raped, beat up and thrown in jail all over a couple fricken pens. I ran over to the patio doors, yes there are 2 fully separate locked french doors between me and the patio. There's no real way of getting through them fast or quietly because they are both probably 50 years old. When I finally got onto the patio I grabbed the pens and looked up only to see Carey pointing at me and laughing like a hyena. Maybe next to him I could be inconspicuous? In this moment next to him I look like a god damn ninja.

I closed and locked the 2 french doors and front and lightning speed desperate to get out of this situation unscathed. I felt instant relief once I was back out into the hallway. Now all I had to do was return the key to the hook. I ran down the two flights of stairs into the lobby to see the man who was looking at brochures earlier sitting behind the desk on the computer. Turns out he was the owner, great. As I was making my way to the key hooks when I noticed a man coming in the front door. This distracted the owner at the just right time and I replaced the key to the room 7 hook, turned and ran up the first flight of stairs. I couldn't help myself and I turned back from the top of the first flight to see which key the man was going for. Of course he's reaching for the only key that's swinging back and forth, room 7. He turned and looked at me while trying to process the situation. I did what anyone would have done, sprint back into my room, shut the door and double locked it.

When I got back onto the patio I started to tell Carey the turn of events which almost lead to my capture. Had I been 30 seconds later I would have been caught red handed with a key that was not mine or worse, in his room! It's then that I hear the patio doors below us open. The man comes out onto the patio and looks directly up at us. I smile and wave, giving my most Canadian "Bonjour!" I was obviously shitting my pants on the inside. He had clearly realized I broke into his room but could see that nothing was missing so didn't have grounds to say anything about it. Yep, I totally got away with it.

We celebrated that evening by heading out to an Irish bar. Quite random but I guess you can find an Irish bar pretty much anywhere. Met a strange dutch man and proceeded to booze heavily with him for the rest of the evening. Overall it's a bit blurry but I do remember one shot he bought for us which changed my world, tequila, sambuca and espresso. Seriously the most revolting thing to hit my lips since the raw hamburger I accidentally ordered the night before.

Waking up the next morning it was all I could think about. Why is it that when your extremely hung-over your mind keeps taking you to the WORST drink you had of the whole night before? It's like having a bad song stuck in your head, but much worse. I don't usually suffer from hangovers that aren't cured by a double cheeseburger, this morning was an exception. Of course this is the day we have to make the 4 hour trip back to Italy and drop our rental car off in Milan. Actually I think the only time I get THIS hangover is when I have some impossibly long painful thing I must do the next day. Carey of course was totally fine and not feeling nearly as sorry for me as I am feeling for myself. After a couple pukes which resembled slug slime and black liquorice we were ready to go. I forced down a croissant and settled in for ride. It was sad to leave France. I was leading the winner’s board by a cool 10 games. Who knows if I'll ever find another place where I'm actually luckier than Carey? Goodbye France.

We had booked a hotel in Milan for 1 night and were heading out on a 6am train to Innsbruck, Austria. We made it to drop off our car with literally 3 minutes to spare before they closed. Somehow close calls seemed to be a reoccurring theme on this trip of leisure. Anyways, Milan was sort of like an Italian Vancouver but less beautiful. Seriously, it’s not that special and hardly worth staying in for more than a few hours. Our hotel was extra ghetto but at least it was walking distance to the train station out of there.

In the morning we hopped on the train, my first ever train ride actually. Europeans got this right; trains are the way to travel. After a scenic trip 6 hour ride we had arrived in Innsbruck. This place is a MUST SEE. The buildings are all pastel colors that reminded me of easter eggs. The town is in a valley between a few massive snowy mountains. Sadly we only had 1 day there. We made the best of it and cruised around town for the afternoon and ending up in some sort of farmers market for a few steins of beer. One of the BEST things about Europe as a whole is that you can get a beer ANYWHERE you want. No one is judging you for cracking a beer at any point of the day. As we sat in this market and got a little drunk I remember thinking, does life get ANY better than this?! Well, turns out it does. We picked up our motor home rental the next day......

Euro-Trip - ITALY

2011-11-17T11:10:00.000-08:00

Yes I'm still alive. After 4 unbelievably glorious weeks in Europe I'm back. Do I feel horribly depressed and shocked at how awful reality is? Absolutely.

There really is something to be said about having something, ANYTHING to look forward to. In most cases the buildup is half of the excitement. Just waiting and planning, counting the days. That was just not the reality of our Europe vacation. I think it's the kind of place that deep down inside you don't fully believe exists until your standing there seeing it with your own eyes. Somehow it was better than I imagined. It's hard to give a highlight reel because everywhere we went was in some way the coolest place I had ever been. I hate to think my life has peaked at the age of 24 but it's hard to believe I'll ever do anything that awesome again. Just being realistic (and if you saw the debt we put ourselves into after 1 short month you would likely agree). I've decided to write this in chronological order and split it between a few posts, hope you enjoy the highlights and lowlights and the useless information in between.

ITALY - The country of smells.

After 3 flights and 17 hours and not a wink of sleep we arrived in Naples. We grabbed our rental car (that was approximately twice the size of my big toe) loaded up and headed south for Sorrento. Our initial thought once we got on the highway was that we were in fact in a much muggier version of Mexico. Thank god we got our GPS working and got the hell outta there. The scenery picked up immensely once we got further down the coast line and Sorrento was a perfect first stop on our 10 day adventure in Italy. The next 2 days were spent cruising the Almafi Coast, all the while risking our lives every time we got back behind the wheel. Italy by far has the largest population of horrible drivers per capita. After several delicious bruschetta’s and a couple 2 euro bottles of wine we were on way up to Rome.

It was days like this we were really praising Rosa (our GPS). She got us through some tough times and I really think without her we would have been filing for divorce right now. Once we checked in and carried our bags up 10 flights of stairs (which was pretty standard fair for everyday in Italy) we were on a sweaty bus into the city center. I decided the people who gave me average reviews of Rome are likely retarded and I made a mental note to not believe a word out of their mouths from that day on. Rome is a MUST SEE, even if you’re seeing it through a thick layer of sweat in 35 degree weather. We hit lots of the main tourist attractions but honestly just cruising the streets was the highlight in my opinion. Well that and the unbelievable dinner we had that evening followed up with about 4 liters of wine.

For a non-god loving sinner like me it was hard to believe how glorious the Vatican would really be until I saw it with my own eyes. I really didn't think it would be something I was that interested in, more of a check on the list of Europe to do's. Being only 4 or 5 days into our trip we were still suffering the effects of jet leg (that and passing out at 9pm after 4 liters of wine) and were up at the crack of dawn. After a quick cappuccino and croissant we were headed into St. Peters Square before 8am. Would have had the same effect on me had it been noon, 35 degrees and filled with people? I honestly doubt it. The sun was just coming up, there was next to no one in the square when we arrived and it was honestly breathtaking. That is not a word I use lightly but seriously, breathtaking. We cruised through the empty line up ropes (which always makes me feel like I'm getting some sort of ripping deal, even if entry is free) and through the first security check. By this point we're practically running were so excited to get the inside of the basilica (or as I would say, church) which by now is glowing and making me think it might be time to turn over a new leaf and let the sweet lord into my life. Only one more check point to get through when all of a sudden I hear an Italian man screaming something. I' had decided days ago that Italians are extremely bad loud talkers and this guy is no exception. That's when I feel a tap on my bare shoulder. Before I know it I'm being turned around and told to kick rocks as my thoughts of godly worship dissolve.

Well, turns out they don't let floozy, dress wearing hooligans into the Vatican. I admit my t-shirt length flesh colored spaghetti strapped dress may not have been pope appropriate but that wasn't what I was thinking when I got dressed that morning. I was clearly thinking about how many liters of sweat I would be producing after another 30+ degree day in Italy. You can't tell me god would want to me sweat any more than I have to?! At this point I was starting to feeling like the lord was truly laying hit wrath upon me. This is probably thanks to me bad mouthing him in a previous blog.

At this point I was feeling pretty awful because now I was holding Carey back from seeing all the glory inside the glowing building. Also I was just plain annoyed with the situation and feeling like a prostitute. With few options we started walking aimlessly back into the square when I had an idea. I remembered seeing a gift stand at the far side of the square and I figured they would have a t-shirt. Instantly I began dreaming about slipping into an oversized t-shirt with the popes face on it or better yet, a picture of Jesus being crucified. Unfortunately (and surprisingly) they didn't have either, but they had whore scarfs. This is clearly a niche market in St. Peter's Square. 4 euro and my problems were solved.

By the time we get back to the last check point I feel like pull a Deena style jersey turnpike on the fool that turned me away 20 minutes before but I figured I shouldn't push my luck. We finally get in; I was totally feeling like I had pulled a fast one on Catholics everywhere. Now I don't want to drag my whorness through the mud much longer but I can't leave this part out. After seeing the basilica I pull out my handy Europe guidebook and find that we can take an elevator to the top of the cupola (the highest point in the Vatican City). Who wouldn't want to do that? After some confusion we find the entrance to where the tickets are sold for the elevator. I strut directly past the guy manning the door with my silk scarf tied tightly around my shoulders. Again with the yelling Italian.. what I make out from his actions are that my dress is in fact too short. REALLY!? Little does he know I've out smarted one skinny, hairy, annoying Italian today and have no plans to let him ruin my fun. We are escorted back outside and I began scheming up a new plan.

Only one thing we can do now, make a run for it. Just kidding, that would never work. I adjusted my scarf and took off the straps of my dress so I can pull it down to knee length. I still don't understand how wearing a scarf for a shirt is more respectable than my dress but they're a lot of things about churches I don't think I'll ever comprehend. I knew we only had one more shot to get by this guy before he had us booted out for good. I waiting for the next group of people going in and I pushed my way in the middle of the crowd (if you can call 3 people a crowd?). Of course Carey of course was able to walk right in, still feeling like a rebel no less. We made it up to the cupola which turned out to be a short elevator ride and 312 winding stairs. Yes, 312 stairs. THANK GOD I wasn't wearing more clothes! All in all a very successful trip to the beautiful Vatican City, all done before 9:30am.

Soon we were back on the road and heading north to Florence. This will very likely make you think less of me but I was pretty stoked to be in the very same city where Jersey Shore season 4 was filmed just months before!! lol, but seriously, I was excited. Florence did not disappoint. We didn't have any specific attractions we wanted to see which made it pretty a leisure 2 days. Spent hours wandering through the streets, ate a couple pizzas, and drank a few dozen Heineken. Florence was good to us and like every place before very easy on the eyes.

I think calling Italy the country of smells is a little unfair. Really it’s Europe as a whole that is the continent of smells. Florence was no exception; actually I think this is where we really came to a head with the smell factor. The sewers run under the streets and with the buildings all being a few stories high and so close together there really isn’t a lot of fresh air being brought into circulation. One minute you’re sucking in a huge whiff of delightful Italian food and the next you smell Italian food that has been digested, shit out and is stewing in the ground just a few feet below. I think it kind of keeps things even though, no country that is that gorgeous should smell like roses.

Overall Italy was good to us. Great food, so much history and even better looking than I could have imagined. The only thing that really holding it back is…. The Italians. HAHA kidding, sort of. More euro-trip coming soon!

Martini's, Mangina's & Marriage!

2011-08-17T11:11:00.000-07:00

Well I must apologize to my 3 or 4 followers for dropping off the map for the past month. I'm going to get back at it with something easy. This blog will be unusually positive and inoffensive, for that I apologize. Don't worry the bitterness in me will build back up and I'm sure my next entry will be overflowing with my regular cynical attitude. For now I'm just a bit too on top of the world to drag up negativity.. WHY? On July 23 Carey and I got married.. it's official. I've locked him down and there is no way he can legally get rid of my sorry ass now without my say so, FEELS GREAT!

It all started last September when Carey asked me to marry him. It was so sweet and perfect and I think this is when the wheels started turning. I wouldn't say I was the kind of kid that always dreamed of what my wedding day would be like. Honestly I was the kind of kid who always thought I would die tragically before anything that good would happen to me. Of course I don't like to do things half way and once I started scoping out some wedding blogs my tiny idea turned into about 1000 tiny ideas. All of these ideas came at a cost so instead of forking out the cash I took the do it yourself route. This turned into a couple hundred hours of my precious time but the outcome was more than what I hoped for. Here are some of the fruits of my labour:

It's funny when people find out you're getting married they all have something to say whether it's a piece of advice, an idea or a wedding horror story. I can't tell you how many times I had to listen to advice I didn't give a shit about but forced a smile, nodded and acted like I was really soaking it all up. I heard several times that your own wedding is never as fun as being a guest at a friend's wedding, which I really came to believe. I thought I would be looking around and subconsciously noting every detail that did not turn out the way I had imagined. I also thought it would be a world of awkward having that many people watching you. Whether you're eating, adjusting your boobs (or in my case padding), chugging your drink, there are eyes on you. I think I was mentally trying to paint a realistic version of how the day was going to go so I was prepared and not let down. Well I've got to say NONE of that bothered me on our wedding day. Honestly I was on cloud 9. I had way more fun at my wedding then I ever have at any other wedding to date. It couldn't have gone any better and for me to be unable to pick out any flaws is not only shocking but unprecedented.

I feel like several different factors played in to glorious day. Most importantly having everyone I love most in the world all together to celebrate. With that crowd of people a bad time just wasn't in the cards. We really have the most unreal group of friends and family. The speeches were the balls, the highlight of the evening. My sister Kristy and her boyfriend Brett (maid of honor and best man) clearly had taken the past 10 months to put those together because they didn't miss a beat. We were so honored (and mildly offended) hearing them. To top it off they also had a surprise slide show for after dinner which was heartwarming and mortifying all at the same time. It was then I realized my awkward stage really was from age 6-20.

Other contribution factors into this day of perfection were the candy apple martinis, delicious food and the photobooth that was set up by one of my bridesmaids Danica. Michelle, my awesome photographer friend manned it for the evening and we ended up with a lot of hilarious shots. Of course you need the BEST playlist to get everyone on board for a late night. This consisted of a lot of golden hits and of course the countless country songs (seriously I don't care who you are, I know you secretly enjoy country music after you've had 5 martinis). Here's a couple songs from the ceremony playlist that I'm still obsessed with:

My advice to anyone planning a wedding is to just do everything your way. Everyone has their own options and ideas of how a wedding should be but it's really just all about what you want. It's one of the only times in life where you can just shut down people's ideas down without thinking twice. Seriously my version of heaven is just having everything done my way. Everyone asking how YOU want it set up and the most strenuous thing you have to do it point and delegate. If only everyday was like that lol.

I guess in closing I should say that the set up, stress over decorations, food and booze is all pretty irrelevant in the end. In the months up to the wedding it's easy to just focus on the party side of things and forget why it is you're planning this big party in the first place. For us getting married has just built on the relationship we've always had. Carey is my best friend in the world so marrying him was easy. The day was perfect because we are just truly happy to be together and commit to spending the rest of our lives with each other. Oh and the cards filled with cold hard cash made that commitment even easier... Europe here we come!

Deadbeat Status

2011-06-30T16:00:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of traits I would not brag about. I'm a total pig and pretty much only clean my house when I have people coming over. I run around like a psycho hiding clutter and filth so no one will know how I normally live. I won't even touch on the on-going health hazard in my car. I judge people relentlessly. Mostly (but not limited to) people I don't know. I see an XXL person wolfing down a case of donuts, I'm honestly repulsed. I notice if you haven't brushed your teeth today. I catch that tiny speech impediment you have, then I probably use it while impersonating you. I'm not proud of these traits. What I am proud of is that I'm the kind of person that does what I say I'm going to do. That being said and the fact that I also have a job means that I do not qualify for deadbeat status. Wondering if you're a true deadbeat?

A DEADBEAT is a person who:

-Evades their basic responsibilities

-Says they will do something, but then they just don't with little or no explanation

-Doesn't have a legitimate job and has likely collected EI at some point

-RSVP's yes to a party but doesn't show

-Doesn't have a license

-Owes you money, but hopes you will forget

-Doesn't reply to texts

If you can personally relate to any of those points, you're probably a deadbeat. I don't know when the switch was flipped for me but it seems like recently my tolerance for people like this has just ran out. I see no reason to say you're going to do something, then not do it. If you're not planning to follow through then be an adult and say that from the start. Even stating you may not be able to follow through from the beginning is more respectable than blatantly lying to others and probably yourself about your actual intent.

This may seem insignificant to someone who has never planned any sort of party or event but I can't think of anything that has higher deadbeat status than a last minute bail. Worse than that, a bail out without so much as a lame excuse via text message. There are obviously situations where you can legitimately pull a no-show without actual offensive being taken or hearts being broken. If someone is having a raging party, it's likely no one’s going to notice if you decide to skip it. If you say you’re going to attend at an event where you know it's going to be a small crowd or even if food is being served it is in no way appropriate to just not show up without some form of notice. To me these principles apply also to a facebook event. I don't respond yes unless I have planned to attend. It's not like there isn't a maybe option! Bottom line, you've got to know that a lot goes into planning most events. Think twice being a deadbeat douche bag and start thinking about someone other than yourself.

Whether it's an email, text message or voicemail (god forbid!) I feel obligated to reply. No one expects a reply within the hour but a reply at some point is always appreciated. If you can't take 2 minutes to reply to someone’s question you're probably a deadbeat. Or maybe you just don't like the person enough to message them back, which on some level is the only legit excuse. But common, it's not that hard. Replying to messages will make you that much less of a deadbeat, give it a try.

Now I know this might be a harsh reality for some but if you don't have year round employment, you are a deadbeat. To me EI (unemployment insurance) is for people who need it to survive. Most of us pay into it in hopes that we won't ever need to rely on it. For some able bodied workers that just not the case. They would prefer to sit on their asses collecting $700 cheques every 2 weeks for before seeking out employment. I mean I can appreciate that these people have actually had to go online twice a month to claim they are still unemployed and actively looking for work. They likely have to borrow a friends computer to do this truly grueling task. What can I say, they work hard for their money.

What this all comes down to is that true deadbeats are self absorbed, lazy slackers. To all the deadbeats out there please comprehend that it's important to take time out from worrying about yourself and realize you’re not the only person on the planet. Next time you say you're going to do something, actually do it. Understand that other peoples time is in fact as valuable as yours. Recognize that your world may revolve around you but everyone else's doesn't!

...Now if this blog entry left you feeling a bit sour I suggest you loosen up by purchasing a bottle of Thornhaven's Tortured Grape. This delicious Okanagan white wine will undoubtedly lift your spirits. Slightly above the deadbeat price point at about $20 per bottle. This is guaranteed to make you feel like less of a deadbeat loser, even if it is just for one night!

Who is he? G. O. D.

2011-06-14T22:34:00.000-07:00

There's something about a solid relationship with the good lord above that I just can't help but question. Seeing as I'm the kind of person that usually doesn't believe anything until I see it with my own eyes, I wouldn't consider myself a god loving follower. Of course I have to judge those of you who do place so much belief in the big guy and have come to make some basic classifications of reasons behind why over 80% of the world’s population are a part of a religion. In my experience most religious followers fall into one of these categories.

1) Family followers. Many are grandfathered into the notion that a book full of fairy tales written thousands of years ago is in fact 100% truth. This I can understand to a point. Dumb people usually raise dumb kids. Being raised knowing no better and likely never given the chance to question why it was you believed in such a bizarre combination of stories. Stories which probably guilted you into being a better person and to not give up your v-card until marriage (keeping in mind all religions have loop holes, in this case it's usually the a-hole!)

2) Near death experience. The odd person gets through most of life unscathed by the church life until they have narrow escape with emanate death. Living through something traumatic often causes the victim to start sending thanks in God's directions. Being completely helpless gives people the need to believe in a power greater than themselves, in which case they're not responsible for their own actions.

3) Death. Living through the horrific experience of losing someone you deeply love is something that often forces people to put more thought into the whole god thing. I think it gives people peace to think of something greater than themselves in control of a situation that must make any person feel completely powerless. Legit? Absolutely.

4) A place to belong in a time of desperation. Many social programs including shelters and food banks are ran through churches. What better time to scoop up a newbie to your religion than some who's helpless, homeless and fucking hungry. You enjoyed that goulash? Go ahead and thank old JC, that one's on him.

5) Fear. Why risk it? Is there such a thing as God laying down his rath? Some people don't want to wait around to find out. Not wanting to end up shoulder to shoulder with all the people you wronged in life in a fiery pit of despair (aka hell) is a relevant fear.

Like most of the 20% out there who aren't a part of a cult (aka religion) I like to believe in something bigger than myself when it's convenient for me. If I really want to win the lottery, I send up a quick shout out. If someone had a gun to my head, that’s about the quickest way to turn me into a devout Christian. Realistically though, take a second to think about it. There's a big strong white guy up in the clouds, wearing a loin cloth with a full beard with no chest hair that is responsible for all that happens to the nearly 7 billion people on earth. Oh wait that’s not all, he's also taking care of all the people who have died and joined him in heaven, that’s got to be another couple of billion. What about the animals? Yep, he warms them with his embrace as well. Call me crazy but something about that strikes me as unrealistic.

One of the main things that rage me about church goers is that lack of responsibility they take for their own actions. So you fucked your best friends wife, call it god’s will. You murdered a man with 3 kids and a mortgage? Tell the big guy you're sorry and eventually you will go to heaven and spend eternity eating philadelphia cream cheese without gaining a pound. You shit your pants? My apologies but there is no godly excuse for that. Now I should say that I'm the first to spin the dradle, accept the paid holiday on Good Friday or even sport a skanky Halloween costume (that is a god based holiday FYI) but that is where I draw the line.

So what the hell does my bitter and cynical self believe in? Without sounding like a complete hippie I'm a strong believer in Karma. Seeing as I don't always conduct myself as a stand up human being I would like to think I believe in karma in-spite of the downfalls it has for a person like me. Of course I also believe that both timing and fate largely contribute to peoples good fortune and even more so, their misery. When it comes to death I just can't believe once you die, that's it. That's far too depressing. However I also can't force myself to believe spirits float up to a dreamy and bright place where everything is sunshine and lollipops. I would like to think that if I died I would have the ability to look down and creep on people in a way facebook has never allowed.

I guess what it comes down to is that I'm just sick of people not using their brains. I’m sick of the countless people that believe in this garbage only because they didn't stop to think about how ridiculous the whole idea is. Yes believing in things can most definitely create a positive but aren't there better things to believe in than religion? Believe that you are capable of something bigger than just being a follower. Believe that in the real world saying sorry for your sins doesn't always wash them away. Believe that you’re in control of your own god-damn life. Believe you can do whatever the hell you want on this earth without fearing the repercussions. Believe that G.O.D. & J.C. might be the most questionable fairy tales every told... and believe that if in fact there is a hell, I'll be seeing you there.

The Perfect Lemon Drop Martini

2011-05-25T11:37:00.000-07:00

There are few things in life I feel very passionate about, having a Lemon Drop Martini made properly is one of them.

After sampling 4 or 5 (bakers dozens) I've come to know what works and what is completely unacceptable in creating the perfect lemon drop. Before I tell you my magical recipe here are a few things that you need to know when ordering a one of these tasty devils are a bar. Firstly and MOST importantly, if you see the word 'limoncello' do not order it. For those of you who aren't familiar limoncello it's a Italian lemon liqueur which is extremely offensive to the taste buds. If you are one of the few people who actually likes that garbage I officially forbid you from reading on. Secondly, do not use flavoured vodka, please for the love of god. No lemon vodka will not make it extra delicious. With a lemon drop you're not going to want anything beyond the basics.

BEFORE YOU BREAK OUT THE MARTINI SHAKER:

Start off by creating a simple syrup. Do this by dissolving as much white sugar as you can in about a cup of water. Using warm water works best, but you will have to do this ahead of time so you aren't adding warm ingredients to your martini.
Cut a wedge of lemon and run it around the rim of your martini glass.
Have a small plate ready with some white sugar leveled out on it.
Take your lemon rimmed glass and dip it sparingly into the plate of sugar then put the glasses in the freezer.

LEMON DROP RECIPE:

Ice
Simple Syrup
Vodka --- preferably Russian Standard
Triple Sec --- optional
Lemons ---- It's best to have a lot of these on hand because the amount needed depends on the ripeness ... plus who knows how many you will want!?

Fill your martini shaker 3/4 with ice. Add 4oz of Vodka and 1/2oz Triple Sec. Add the juice of one lemon and throw a couple of lemon rinds in as well. Add approximately 1oz of simple syrup. Shake the shit of it. Now and most importantly, test your mixture. Don't get ahead of yourself and pour a below average product into your nicely rimmed glasses. You may want to add a little more lemon or simple syrup depending on what you like. Once it taste right pour it into your chilled, sugar rimmed glasses and ENJOY.

This recipe makes 2 martinis because I don't encourage drinking by yourself... BUT we've all been there, so if your sad enough to be drinking alone you might as well get drunk.

Being In The Winners Circle.. When No One Else Is Playing.

2011-05-06T14:28:00.000-07:00

I'm currently 10 days into a 24 day cleanse. We're not talking about something crazy like only drinking cayenne honey lemon water until your asshole prolapses, just a boring old cleanse. It's probably easier to say what I can eat than list the million things I can't. Basically it's lean proteins, non starchy vegetables and limited fruit. As for beverages I'm thanking the sweet lord above coffee is legit and of course tea and water. This means no alcohol. No red wine, beer, lime palm bays, sangria or any of the other beverages I've come to enjoy so thoroughly. This will mark a huge milestone in my drinking career. Never in the past 8-9 years have I given my pickled liver more than a 6 day break, NEVER. I did try once before on another cleanse to make it 12 days which failed miserably once Friday night rolled around. I really do have a very special love for food but when it comes down to it I'll settle for oatmeal for the rest of my days as long as it's paired with my beverage of choice. This may make me sound like an alcoholic and maybe I am but that doesn't change the facts. This is going to be a LONG 24 days. We're probably thinking the same thing, how on earth am I going to pull this off?

I consider myself a very competitive person. I'll use any excuse to turn a friendly game into something a little less friendly that can likely be bragged about later. I can single handedly do this to ANY game that has more than 1 person participating. Cranium, cards, bocce, baseball you name it and I've probably got money or my dignity (usually both) riding on the outcome.   Solo sports have never been my thing and you can probably figure out why. Honestly I have a hard time playing games on my phone more than once because it's so god damn boring trying to beat your own score. I've always thought of people that lived for solo sports to be weaker human beings. Maybe they don't stand a chance in a game against anyone but themselves? My apologies and condolences if that's what you're in to and I'm forced to wonder, what is the point?! This may make me out to sound a bit intense and maybe even petty but I'm always in it for the possibility of a win. This obviously isn't the outcome every time (I lack natural athletic skill) and often I'm forced to swallow sadness but at least I'm swallowing something. Imagine winning something like the world cup in ping pong, jumping up and down alone, hugging yourself. Or imagine eating a 12 pack of calorie free long johns watching The Real World on MTV. I would take the latter even if I had to replace MTV for TSN because winning alone isn't winning at all.

I consider a cleanse some form of a solo sport, which as I stated above I'm no good at. I've proven this time and time again, I just don't care enough to see the outcome when I'm the only one at the finish line. This is where the problem started. I had to ask myself how I could get through this with out the force of a competition driving me. Then I realized I didn't have to.   What this has turned into a classic dual only it's between fat me and skinny me, weak me and strong me and it's working like a charm. Changing my mind set was all it took. As long as I feel that I'm beating someone out (in this case my fat and weak alter ego) I can persevere through anything. So I guess you can say I'm starting to think slightly more of all you solo sport lovers and starting to understand your mind set. Maybe solo sports really can be fun and make you look cool. I'm actually thinking of taking one up myself, check it out:

http://www.howtodothings.com/how-to-spin-a-nunchuck

If you know me at all you know that by me writing this blog there is no doubt in my mind I will make it the full 24 days. Even though I'm only a portion of the way through this (14 days 4 hours to go) I can already see the finish line and taste the victory (a 24 oz glass of sangria).   Honestly never thought I would be saying this but I actually feel great. I have more energy, I'm getting more done at work, I'm no longer a slave to my stomach and I'm even more happy (until Saturday night rolls around obviously). Maybe it's a bit empowering to know my main addictions and habits don't control me and I'm capable of abstinence, at least for a short period of time. Oh I also came to the realization that any future children I have with be produced in a surrogate womb. Even one weekend off the sauce really can put a lot into prospective. Nine months sounds like a death sentence, or worse, a baby with FAS. Well enjoy your beverages of choice this weekend and have an extra (dozen) for me.

The bright side of my life..

2011-04-21T12:22:00.000-07:00

I found this on one of the many wedding blogs I frequent. I usually scan something like this and move right on past without thinking twice. I read this one right through. Then I read it again. I feel like at least the first half of these random sentences are things I try to live by, or at the very least I tell others to live by (never been that good at taking my own advice).

We all know life is too short to be unhappy in any aspect, but that doesn't mean we all go through life living it that way. In my eyes my life is pretty god damn fantastic. I have some amazing friends. A retarded dog that loves to snuggle. An understanding and entertaining family that just happens to have a cabin on a beautiful lake. An exceptional wedding to plan. A one month trip to Europe in the fall. A job I actually like and pays me more than I'm worth. My health (as far as I know). A well stocked liquor cabinet and a gift for martini mixing. A shit load of random and enjoyable hobbies. A home that could be hitched up and moved away, ahh the freedom! Last but not least Carey, my favourite person on earth who I get to spend the rest of my life with. SO many things go into the reasons I get up in the morning. For all the bitterness and sarcasm I expose in this blog this may seem hard to believe but anyone who truly knows me knows I am honestly happy. Which is all that really matters and all that makes life worth living. This makes me sound like my mom but after hearing it 1000 times I will finally admit that it's true. It's your choice to be happy or it's your choice to be a bitter pig (not the exact words my mom uses). So if your reading this and just wishing you were this happy stop being such a pussy and make it happen. No one feels sorry for you so stop feeling sorry for yourself, it's not a good look.

LIFE is good today! On the eve of this surely glorious 4 day weekend may we all celebrate the resurrection of our lord Jesus Christ! OR drink and eat our faces off for 4 straight days.. your choice!

Double..Trouble? Mint? Rainbow? HOMICIDE.

2011-04-06T16:15:00.000-07:00

Given the opportunity there are many things I would change about myself. For one, I wouldn't interrupt anyone, ever. Sometime it feels like I'm watching myself about to cut someone off mid sentence. My brain is trying to stop my mouth from opening but it's like a compulsive disorder that it has a mind of its own. Secondly, I would have the metabolism of a humming bird. I wouldn't be one of the skinny people who doesn't care what they have for dinner or can't remember what they had for lunch. I would be the skinny person that appreciated my good genes but ate like a horse just because I could. I could go on but I'll spare you (and save it for another blog) because this one is about something I never had a choice in but wouldn't trade for anything. My twin sister.

From what I hear having a twin is a something most kids dream about. Someone you could use to play tricks on people, a person to share your room or better yet, your clothes. Of course being a twin isn't all practical jokes and large wardrobes. Firstly and easily the most aggravating part of having a identical twin is for the first 15 or so years you do not have your own identity. With the exception of close friends and family you are just "the twins". When any normal kid spends at the least the first two decades of their life trying to be an individual we're just trying to get people to figure out our names. The older I got the more this bothered me. Clearly we have some differences in our appearance which would be easy to see if you were looking, which most people don't bother to do. Bottom line if you don't know which one I am by now you never will. Why? Because I won't give you the fucking time of day.

I'm not sure if this one can be filed under pro or con but since as far back as I can remember my sister and I have been in a some type of competition. It's not just us doing this to each other, it's on everyone’s minds. Who is better at which sport? Who's smarter? Who is more successful? Who is better looking? You might not come out and ask these questions (some retards do) but you've probably thought about it. My life has been like a god damn decathlon against my sister where the events keep changing. On the bright side this keeps me on my toes. It would be a lot easier to gain 15 lbs if she wasn't around to compare myself to. Also this comes back to people not being able to tell us apart.. if she’s really good at something there's still a good chance she might be confused for me anyways. Bonus, I win without lifting a finger.

Twin jokes... really? They are all SO lame and far from funny. You know when someone does something so embarrassing you actually feel embarrassed for them? That is the feeling I have when I hear these half-witted sayings. Things like 'are you the good twin or the bad twin?' or 'two of a kind' or one of the corniest of all 'double troouuuuble'. I swore from the age of about 8 that I would stop fake laughing when idiots chimed in with garbage like that and I haven't looked back since.

There are obvious advantages to having a twin. We never got picked on in high school. Seeing as we always had each other as backup it probably wasn't worth the hassle. It's nice to always have someone on your team no matter what. We always have each other to get a totally honest opinion. YES you look like a cow in that outfit and NO you shouldn't skip the gym today. Being able to bounce ideas off my sister before voicing them publicly have allowed me to avoid countless confrontations. Seeing as it's my natural instinct is to be a bit of a c-bomb she’s acted as a filter from time to time to save me the hassle of having to apologize after all is said and done. There’s someone to share a license with when suffering the repercussions of a DUI as well as someone to take driving tests for you if you busy or retarded (or in my sisters case, both). If I ever need a kidney, I know where I'm looking first. Bottom line getting born with a built in best friend is nothing to whine about and it's clear the advantages make the disadvantages seems pretty insignificant. Oh and did I mention Law & Order SVU taught me that as an identical twin I could easily get away with murder. So if you're part of the 99.7% of the population who doesn't have a twin, my condolences and DON'T cross me or I'll kill you and get away with it.

Delightful Sangria Recipe

2011-03-24T13:47:00.000-07:00

Get a large bucket because a juice jug will just not cut it. Put a few scoops of ice in first. Not too much ice though, you don't want to water this perfect beverage down. It's best to just add ice to your glass with each serving so you don't get ripped off on the alcohol content.

1 liter of cheap red wine
1 bottle of boones sangria mix
1 lemon cut into wedges
1 orange cut into wedges
1 lime cut into wedges
some orange juice (get the good stuff with pulp)
a few shots of triple sec
1 cup of raspberries
1 cup sliced strawberries
soda (you be the judge)

I used to make a variation of this with vodka as well. but I honestly don't recommend that. I guarantee you will want to have several glasses of this and it would be a bonus for any bystanders if you could still form a sentence after. Enjoy.. I know I will.

Thanks for sharing..

2011-03-11T11:40:00.000-08:00

At some point or another everyone has met this person and been a victim to this crime. When I come across this I'm only shocked the first time as these people are usually repeat offenders. Who exacting am I referring to? For lack of a better word, oversharers. Now I know you have at least one person that instantly comes to mind. That idiot thats doesn't have a social filter on what they can say to who. I've come up with some basic guidelines to help you identify this person and place animosity where it is due.

OVERSHARERS:
-Tell personal things about themselves or others that you wish you didn't know.
-Make reference's about their sex life (when they are NOT attractive OR are related to you)
-Say funny yet revolting things with a straight face (note: laughing while giving too much info can alleviate the awkwardness and make you slightly less hated)
-Send spam emails that aren't appropriate for all 300 of their email contacts (example: A baby announcement with pictures of the birth and info about what they're planning to do with the placenta)
-Post facebook status updates about their rash that just won't go away while asking their 600 facebooks "friends" for advice.

Firstly there are exceptions to most rules and there are a few select people in your life you're allowed to indulge with too much information without an invitation. For instance when your telling a story to your closest of friends it's almost expected that your going to give that extra shocking and maybe even repulsive tidbit. It always makes the story that much more hilarious and memorable. Overall I think if you're looking for a laugh while telling an offensive or vulgar story you get a pass. Most people are willing to put aside the fact that you shit your pants if lets say in the story it was at a piano recital, while wearing khakis. But many people aren't as open to hearing about your bowels giving out if you have a straight face on and you're looking for sympathy. Thats disgusting, your rotten, take that to the grave.

Hearing about a sexual mishap can be entertaining. If a girl had a grand mal seizure while your were getting it on, I want to hear about it. However, if you physically gross me out with your clothes on I do not want to picture you with them off, let alone in a explicate story where your fucking someone who is likely equally if not more unattractive than yourself. Sorry, there is a reason why most porn is made with fit and somewhat appealing people. No one whats to think about the reality that fat, greasy people have sex with each other. Hmm this could pose a problem with my exception given above if you're close friends with greasy fat people. Well if so thats your problem, not mine.

What exactly is it about people that have babies and feel like the whole world wants to know details of the birth? To be honest I've been the person who has asked for the gory details, in which case let the flood gates open. If you've been asked for details your not oversharing. But this does not mean if someone asks the weight of the baby you have permission to spout off about the amount of fluids that gushed out before and the 10 pound amniotic sac you spat out after.

Overall I would just like to say please make sure you know your audience before you verbally assault them. Always test the waters first. Please don't make yourself that person I avoid in the grocery store.

Only one way to go from here..

2011-03-02T17:04:00.000-08:00

Last weekend myself and 7 others took off on a much anticipated snow shoeing trip up the mountain. We had been planning this trip for over a month and for the most part none of us really knew what we were getting ourselves into. I had done this same hike 2 or 3 times before but it had been upwards of 5 years since my last trek and lets be honest, I haven't done by body or brain many favours in last the 5 years. Another key factor of the story is that in the past every time I attempted this athletic feat it had been sunny and dry, mostly in the early summer months. Hiking 5km up hill with a 45 pound backpack on while trying out snow shoes for the first time is in no way comparable to any balmy summer time stroll I've taken up in the past. In spite of all of this I was actually feeling really good on the way up. I've been frequenting the gym for the past 6 months and am in considerably better shape than I was this time last year. I kept my pace at the front of the pack looking back to see the pain on the others faces only boosted my spirits. I liked being up front, having people suffer behind me (leave it to me to turn a hike in to some type of competition). Just so your not let down by the rest of this story I'll tell you that at this point internally I was at the summit of good times mountain and from there on theres only one way to go, down.

Once we got to the Edwards Lake we knew we were only about 1 km from the cabin. Of course the direction of the cabin from the lake was still unknown. There were two paths that were visible in the snow, both going in the same general northern direction. We began to cross the frozen lake towards the point where the path split. This was the point as which my exhaustion started to kick in. Plowing through the not so light and fluffy powder was not as easy as it looked. It was apparent on the others faces that they were feeling my pain. After a quick discussion we veered on to the NW side of the trail. Once we reached the forest again we saw an arrow drawn in the snow, it was pointing in the opposite direction. Of course we ignored it, that arrow could have meant anything. To be honest the cynic in me felt like someone was trying to fuck with us. What I should have been thinking is most people doing these types of treks are granola eating hippies who just don't go around fucking with people. The thought probably never comes in to there stinky dread covered heads. If you haven't already figured it out, we took the wrong trail. GOD DAMMIT we took the wrong trail. Not only did we have to back track but we still had at least 1 more uphill km to go once we got back to the lake. The only thing that had the ability to lift my spirits at this point was seeing the desperation in Brett's eyes. Brett is my sisters boyfriend. He and I are somewhat mortal enemies, in a sort of joking / I will punch you right in the mouth kinda way. I would like to extend a thank you to Brett. Seeing the anguish in his face gave me the strength to push through the horrific pain and make the final ascent to the cabin.

Finally we had arrived!! We were instantly greeted by a group of 8 Pender people who had hiked up the day before. Euphoria spread through the group. Thankful and satisfied we hurried inside and claimed our spots in the sleeping loft. Turns out there was 4 others who where also staying at the cabin as well. Not 2 hours later 6 more people showed up. I don't know what you're imagining when I say 'cabin' so maybe I should elaborate. It's about 30 x 20 at most. Theres a small kitchen like area, with no running water. A medium sized table with benches around, which closely resembles a picnic table.  A wood stove at one end beside a latter to the loft upstairs and one seriously rank out house. When the last group of hikers arrived we were at max capacity in the loft and most of the cold soggy floor on the main level was spoken for as well. Believe it or not they decided to make a snow cave to sleep in. The very thought of sleeping outdoors snow cave or not revolted me. I was more than happy to have my tiny spot in the corner of the loft and put up no argument when they set out to build the cave. Little did the fools who were thanking god for their spot in the loft know what was to come next.

The next few hours were a bit strange. I'm going to summarize this quickly because it's hardly relevant to my story. A hiker went missing coming down from Mount Steel to the Edwards Lake cabin. His wife had been with him on the way down and they got separated. Once it got dark we sent out search parties from our cabin to no avail. By the sounds of it he was the kind of guy who could survive for 5 days with his nalgene bottle of water and the mountain equipment co-op clothes on his back. His wife was confident he would be ok but it was a tense situation in our 600 sqft cabin. By no means the kind of scene where you can enjoy putting down a few bottles of wine. Lucky for us the Pender people had spend 5 hours earlier that day building an outstanding snow fort.

Seeing as there was over 13 feet of snow at the cabin the snow fort was more of a snow cave, completely underground. They had used a tarp for the roof and door area making it completely encapsulated.  This is where trouble had unknowingly started to brew. Of course it was nice to be out of the cheerless, gloomy cabin with others who were up there to have a good time but there was a price to pay for the super happy good times in the snow cave. I believe this cave was built for one reason only: hot boxing. Don't get me wrong, there was a day where I would have been more than happy to hot box a snow cave. That day is not today and I have known for some years that I can not handle smoking weed while drinking. Actually come to think of it I can't handle smoking weed sober. This is one act that almost always ends up with me feeling like the room is spinning, trying to sleep with one eye open which is likely to result in barfing. In this case I had already downed a delightful bottle of red wine so you could say my judgement was slightly clouded. There I sat in the hot box for the next 3, 4 or maybe 5 hours (the time frame is a bit hazy) enjoying another bottle of wine and some ultra delicious pre-mixed candy apple martinis. Please note that at no point did I ever actually smoke any weed.

This is where my memory fails me so please note I'm going off information gathered from about 5 different sources as to what took place next. I claimed I was going to bed. My friend Michelle tried to coax me in to staying up but apparently I was quite adamant. From the evidence I found in the morning I've concluded that I went into the cabin (where everyone else was fast asleep) pulled off my boots and second layer of pants and left them in a pile at the bottom of the latter. This tells me I was VERY gone by that point. Never in my right mind would I leave my things scattered about a tiny cabin with a bunch of near strangers. I then climbed up into the loft and trampled a few people on my way to my spot in the corner. WAIT before I go on I'm going to give you some background on myself:

I give myself credit where credit is due. Always have, always will. Since the age of about 9 I haven't puked once without warning or in a place other than the toilet or the outdoors (well...maybe the odd bucket). I'm just not that kind of person. Theres been several times in the past 10 years where I've been around someone who is not so lucky. To be honest I usually looked down on them with disgust, pretending to understand. I should also tell you that I truly have a talent at holding my booze. I can drink a copious amounts of liquor for my size. I know, I must make my mother SO proud. Well all this changed on that monumental night in one fell swoop.

At this point I've gotten into bed. There are some allegations about the details from here but from this entire black out I have one single memory.  I'm sitting up looking down at my pillow wondering WHO the hell puked on it. There is no way I could have done this, I'm just NOT that person. That moment of "clarity" left as quickly as it came. Oh and I'm super glad I emptied out the clothes from my backpack and left them in a neat pile right beside my pillow, perfect target. In my mind it magically cleaned itself up and I slipped back into a blissful slumber. In all reality my sister (also suffering from a slightly more classy black out) bagged up the 'soiled' bedding and put it out on the deck. Thanks Kristy, your a real champ. Oh apparently also as an extra treat to the other 25 PEOPLE at the cabin I then went out on the deck and blew chunks all over the entrance area below. I don't like to do things half-way.

I woke up around 5 hours later on Carey's twin mattress, with Carey next to me and tried to piece together the events of the night before. I laid there before the sun came up for about an hour, swallowing sadness (like a boss). I took this time to connect the dots and come to some conclusions on the matter at hand. Here are some semi-legit excuses considering the situation:

-Altitude sickness. If you remember reading a previous post I got extremely ill at my last snowy mountain adventure as well. I'm seeing a theme. It must be the altitude!
-Dehydration. I drank about 500ml of water that entire day. Mostly on account of Carey looking like he was going to drop dead on the way up if I didn't give him my precious water. Being the nice girlfriend I am I gave him the better half of my tiny water bottle (sort of like he gave me half of his tiny bed? Thanks Carey).
-Karma. Maybe a higher power thought I needed a reality check. Point taken. I will most definitely have more sympathy for all you no warning pukers out there. Turns out it really can happen to anyone (I'm using anyone pretty loosely).

THE REALITY: You can get stoned in a snow cave hot box and weed + boozey = projectile vomit. Lesson learned, the hard way.

That morning is up there on my list of 'reasons to kill myself'. Kidding, but I bet the suckers sleeping next to my barf all night were thinking up ways to end their lives! Hahah. Anyway after I packed up what little dignity I had left I said some quick sorrys to the innocent bystanders who had to huff in my aroma of my vom all night long, we were ready to go. Before we departed I noticed a beer bottle left on the bench outside (mine of course) and I squeezed it into the area between my back and my backpack. The same spot you would put a really large sword or staff if you were a ninja. Now I'm dragging my ass 5 km back down this godforsaken mountain (with a bag filled with bedding and barf no less). Not 5 minute in my snow shoe slips off my foot, great. Carey's laughing like a hyena behind me as I bend over to put it back on. Then, believe it or not, the bottom of that icy cold stale beer poured down the back of my neck. Obviously I lost it and chucked the bottle in the bush, which seemed like the only option in that moment. I took a deep breath and reach into my fanny pack (I know they're super gay, but hands free.. you can't beat that!) and pulled out my tiny water bottle. It seemed lighter than it should be. Maybe because 3/4 of it were missing. My fanny pack, crotch and snow pants are soaked from the leaky water bottle. All I could think was, THIS IS BULLSHIT! who did I shit on to not only get handed the short end of the stick, but get beaten relentlessly with it.

Your probably wondering when this is all going to turn around for me. Don't hold your breath, it doesn't. Not every day ends the way you want it to. Actually most don't. This one ended with me eating McDonald's and feeling sorry for myself, but I could think of several worse outcomes. The only good that comes out of this story is that you can read it and feel better about your life. Your welcome, you owe me.

Like a BOSS..

2011-02-15T15:59:00.000-08:00

I've always loved the gratification of creating something from nothing. Mostly I like creating things that other people appreciate. I'm a real sucker for a good pat on the back! I've gotten into many different hands on crafts over the years but nothing has appealed to me quite like cake decorating. I don't know exactly what started this obsession (I'm thinking a combo watching too many episodes of Cake Boss and the 350 pound woman living inside me). In the past year I've made several creative cakes, all with completely different themes (I'll post some pictures shortly for your viewing pleasure). Luckily for me my sister has grown quite interested in cakes as well, making her the perfect help for these massive projects we commonly take on. Unluckily for her that 350 pound woman lives on the outside of her. She's always loved bavarian cream a little too much!

Cake decoration takes an insane amount of time. I find myself playing it down when people ask details, probably because it would make me sound necrotic and obsessive if I told them exactly how many hours were spent creating the perfect cake. I'm just not the kind of person who would be able to show up with anything less than perfect. Like most hobbies I gotten into I've noticed my stress levels hit an all time high while creating cakes. This is most likely because if my product doesn't turn out flawless I'll start over (alternatively if time doesn't allow this I would either fake a serious illness or slit my own wrists, depending on the day).

I've been reading this cake blog recently which is quite interesting. It's entertaining enough but I'm just shocked and the kind of cakes this girl is willing to share with the world. To be completely honest 85% of them are terrible (FYI I make up percentages ALL the time, I think it's some kind of disorder I suffer from). They look sloppy and cheap and resemble something that would be produced in grade 9 cooking class. I mean I will give points for creativity and mostly they're a step up from what you would get at the grocery store but come on, is she blind!? I think I follow the blog religiously just to boost my own self confidence. The more I look at her junky cakes the better I feel about my superior decorating skills. I think it's comparable to going bathing suit shopping with someone whose 20 pounds overweight.. it always makes that 10 pounds you've been carrying around on your ass look more like 5. So thanks to the cake blogger for making my cake skills look first-class and if you keep testing your new creations I'll happily go bathing suit shopping with you.

In closing I'll let you know that my sister Kristy and I plan to start a cake decorating business called 'Simply Cakes' in the next year so we can start making some cold hard cash for our blood and sweat. Not literally blood and sweat, thats insanely unsanitary. Oh and I guess I should clear a few things up. My sister isn't 350 pounds (yet). Also I'm not the type of person who would ever be able to slit my own wrist... I'm far more likely to go down with a pill cocktail and a half dozen candy apple martinis.

About The Cynic..

2011-01-28T16:27:00.000-08:00

I am a 23 year old with a house, a chocolate lab, an enjoyable job, a 1990 Toyota Corolla, a twin sister and an above average boyfriend. Well by boyfriend I technically mean fiance, but who can stand that word? Until he's my husband, he will continue to be my boyfriend. I live in the same small town I grew up in. I have some seriously great friends and one or two I could probably do without. Overall my life is as I expected and I wouldn't trade it for anything short of a 649 ticket with 6 matching numbers, plus the bonus. I'm mostly all talk but there aren't many things I wouldn't do for a few million bucks. Here are some things I would give millions to never deal with again:

1)Eating Habits. People who DRAG their teeth across their metal fork while eating. This mentally and physically revolts me. In my opinion dealing with that sound is comparable to being raped in a female prison. Not only does it likely cause oral damage but it gives me the NO feeling throughout my whole body. Hense the comparison to being raped by a bull-dyke. While we're on the eating topic I should say I do find it personally offensive when people think it's remotely appropriate to come within a 1 mile radius of anyone while devouring a loaded subway sandwich. Don't take this the wrong way, everyone loves a properly made sub but WHY someone would get extra onion on their mid-day sandwich is beyond my thought process. That oniony smell which is often confused with the scent of ripe B.O. lingers for an obscene amount of time. I like onions, I like garlic, but most of all I like my personal hygiene not coming into question.

2)Facebook Updates. I'm going to try to keep this one short and sweet because I could go on about several topics in relation to facebook annoyances. For the time being I will only focus on one major type of facebooker: the status updater. I like to know where you got the idea that anyone with a pulse cares about the fact that you: hate your job, are in love with the man of your dreams, have a rash, or that you don't have plans for Friday night. SHUT THE FUCK UP! The only thing I find satisfying about someone posting 8 updates in one day is that then I actually have an reasonable excuse to talk about how much I personally hate them. The best thing facebook has created to date is the 'hide this person' option for your homepage. Because honestly, as much as you hate those mother fuckers that are updating hourly you have to keep them at arms reach (or literally speaking, on your friend list). I mean theres always a chance they might get pregnant, paralyzed, or punched in the face. Nothing like getting an earful of juicy gossip only to be derailed by a closed profile!

3)Simpleton Grammar. I am no genius when it comes to punctuation, spelling or even grammar. If you're this far into my blog it's likely that you're nodding your head. I'm also not a mental fucking retard. I'm not university educated or even college educated for that matter but any half wit should be able to recognize basic English. Saying things like "I seen that movie last night" makes you sound just as hillbilly as saying "I seen cousin Mary sucking cousin Mikes dick last night". You SAW it, past tense you goddamn idiot.

That's enough negativity for now, it is Friday after all. I just figured anyone reading this garbage would need a crash course on some of things that are closest to my heart. From this I hope you will all think twice before hitting that 'share' button on facebook, willingly grinding metal on your pearly whites or sucking your cousins dick.

Christmas Cheer & Fear

2011-01-19T17:06:00.000-08:00

The holidays are finally over! Don't get my wrong, I LOVE that time of year. Theres always enough food to feed everyone twice and no one looks at you funny when you pour yourself a stiff one before noon. Luckily for me, my boyfriends family celebrates Christmas Eve so I never have to sacrifice my regular family tradition. This year I approached Christmas morning for a semi different angle then I usually do, an extremely hungover angle. A very regrettable unplanned action. I don't know why is it I choose to sabotage myself on the second favorite day of the year (close second to my birthday). Luckily I proved that nothing can keep me for enjoying all the glories of that festive morning. After getting through a day like that with a smile on my face I must admit I felt pretty unstoppable. That was until Dec. 30th rolled around....

After years of talking about going away for a snowy New Years vacation we had finally planned something to get excited about this year. With one of my best friends turning 30 on New Years it seems only appropriate. After about 100 emails and countless hours of internet searching for a cabin rental (which over New Years is not easy OR cheap to find) we found the perfect lake side cabin. Going through Christmas knowing we still had 3 nights of worry free fun ahead of us over New Years made the holiday that much more sweet. Finally the morning of Dec 30th had arrived, we could depart on our final holiday of 2010. Chris (birthday boy, friend & driver) showed up to pick us up as planned at 7am. That is when the bomb was dropped. "I have the flu" were the first words out of Chris's mouth. Something I may have left out about myself is that I'm borderline obsessive compulsive about germs. My worst nightmare had come true. A 3.5 hour closed window drive up to our snowy heaven in a contaminated truck with a poisonous human who had spent the night puking and pissing out of his ass. I took every possible precaution on the way up but it only delayed the inevitable.

It all started around about 11pm when my ice cold Granville Island Winter Ale started to taste funny. Thats when I knew something might be up because normally that flavour of beer is beyond delicious. I decided with little reluctance that I should hit the hay early that night so I wouldn't get run down and in turn become vile and polluted with this horrific flu myself. I fell asleep rather quickly only to be jerked awake an hour later by the cold sweat draining from my pores. I could still hear everyone downstairs having a gay old time. I went to the washroom (which luckily was located adjacent to our room) as more of a test than anything. There and then my worst fears were confirmed, I had most definitely been infected. That bathroom with the shitty slanted low ceiling and the hideous vinyl floor is where I spent a better part of the next 10 hours. Luckily for me about 2 hours in to my sentence my drunk friends made there way upstairs. A little after that with help from my stank-ass booze breath boyfriend I received the best gift of the whole Christmas season, a bucket. It's amazing how much you appreciate something so small when your body is ejecting fluids from all of your orifices at once.

"You'll be fine, it's probably only food poisoning" said my lovely boyfriend Carey had said. I may be a bit of a germaphobe but come on Carey, I can't mentally give myself the flu. This was especially annoying coming from a person who has NEVER in his life had the flu. Never, which I find that borderline offensive. Anyways that paints the basic picture of my 3 days at the cabin. Carey came up at about 11:58 on New Years Eve and popped open a bottle of champagne to ring in the new year (I didn't get my New Years kiss for about 5 more days due to my toxic state). Though I did everything in my power to avoid the smell of that freshly opened champagne it's the thought that counts. 1 point for Carey.

I know your waiting for it... the reaaallly thin silver lining. I didn't once succumb to 'the fear' (meaning I didn't shit my pants). Just kidding, that hardly seems like a silver lining. I don't think I've mentioned this minor detail yet but I'm getting married in July! This I'm sure will be the topic of many rants and raves to come. Anyways, since the day Carey proposed I've been on a pretty serious diet and exercise schedule. Obviously I have no plans of being a whale on my surely glorious wedding day. There had been some cheating in the month of December and I was getting off track (and dis-pleased with my daily weigh in's). So after 3 days of puke and dia(rrhea) I arrive back home with a flat stomach, sunken cheekbones and a whopping 8 lbs lighter. My self loathing quickly turned into narcissistic pride. And so with great joy began 2011 with a nice jump start, which was enough to get my back on track to being merely skin and bones by late July.

Happy New Year to me!!

Legit Motives

2010-12-17T11:09:00.000-08:00

While deciding what on earth I would name my blog I considered many things. I came up with words that I feel people may use to describe me. Some good, most bad. I find it substantially easier to pick out the negative attributes of others than attempting to locate the positive. I searched the definitions of these words and found only one that truly suited me, cynic.

Cynicism: a distrust of the apparent motives of others

Since as far back as I can remember I've questioned peoples motives. Good or bad I wonder why people do what they do and most importantly as a friend of mine often says "how does this affect me?". If a near stranger does something nice for me, such as bringing me a coffee, I would likely misconstrue this as them trying to butter me up so they can ask me for a favour. Or maybe I would think they were trying to poison me. When someone is doing something callous or evil it's a lot easier to define their motives. They have likely been wronged are trying to level the playing field.

Now your probably thinking one of two things: "Finally a blog worth reading!" or "Wow, another bitter bitch trying to spread more unhappiness". If your leaning towards the bitter bitch thought don't stop reading just yet. This blog is called HOPE for the cynic.

Hope: a belief in a positive outcome.

Yep, even the sour side of me has hope that everything will always turn out right sooner or later. I think thats what makes all the difference. There has to be a small percentage of your being that has hope. Whether it's hope that the annoying girl you have on your facebook breaks all her fingers and is unable to post another status update for 6-8 weeks, or hope that you lose 10 lbs overnight. If you don't have hope for anything you might as well tie up a fresh noose and prep for a hasty 20+ year overdue abortion your mother should have had.

What I hope to do with this blog is make you think and mostly to make you laugh. It's likely going to be a collection of rants, times when I've been wronged and occasionally you may fine a post with a silver lining or a happy ending (and I'm not talking about the kind you get after a thai massage). Regardless I hope you enjoy it, or better yet, I hope you hate it. That way you'll have something to rant about too.