Chag Kashruth Pesach

This past week marked a little milestone for me - my first real-life Passover experience, with God's Chosen People and all!

You see, my girlfriend invited me to celebrate Passover with her and her family. I was the only Gentile in attendance. It was a full evening's worth of food, prayer, singing and wine.

And let me tell you, Sarin's mom can cook! I got matza ball soup, tapas and spreads of every variety, so many main course options it was like a restaurant and some serious dessert yumminess.

Also, I totally got to see Sarin get her Jew on - she was singing, and praying and everything! She refused to put on her traditional Passover clothes, which was a little mean of her, but whatever.

I felt like I was meeting my boyfriend's parents for the first time - I was nervous and excited and well, I'm really grateful to these people for having Sarin -  and I wanted to make a good impression.

Anyways, just a little shout-out to Sarin and her familia - thanks for the Passover goodness. It was totally the best Passover meal I've ever had.

Birthday Treats!

I've mentioned a few times how much I love my birthday. I know it's lame, but I really do. It's the only day dedicated to you - even when it's not.

This year, I was a lucky duck and received a plethora of birthday treats.

First, Andi and Ron flew up from Edmo to help ease my aging-related sorrows. We wandered around the city on Saturday, went to an Edmonton bar for lunch and the game and basically walked our asses off. Oh, we saw the Main Press Centre and heard many a foreign accent ... the Games are gonna be good.

I digress.

The evening was supposed to be ... normal. Sarin had offered up her place for a gathering - I was thinking a pizza party, with booze and treats, and that would be that.

That wasn't that at all!


My Vancouver bitches blew me away.

Priscilla, Sarin and Mariel had put together one hell of a party actually. Complete with Justin Timberlake cake (I think I yelped when it came out), grown-up Twister (no nudity), theme, jello shooters, background images, ambient lighting, music, chicken & waffles, fondue ...

The list goes on and on.

And the best part: I had no fucking clue.

I LOVE surprises.

They are just oodles of fun - unless they're bad surprises, then, well, they aren't fun at all.

Anyways. Team Vancouver really caught me off guard.

So my 29th year started off really great - I felt very special.

Also, a chick in the bathroom at work was shocked when I told her my age. So, I'm totally ok with 29.

I'm totally ok with 29. I'm totally ok with 29. I'm totally ok with 29.

I've been found out, so now I'll never explore

A couple of months ago I heard about The XX through Miss Parlour and, well, I kinda thought they kicked ass.

When I bought their cd, I knew, they did kick ass. That cd is seriously, easily, one of the best I have heard this year, and, in case you haven't noticed, I have been listening to a lot of good music lately.

Sarin and I got tickets to their show the moment we found out they were coming - and this was months ago.

A few weeks ago, Lis bought a ticket and a flight to come out for the show.

This is how excited we all were for it. Seriously, the cd is ridic and if you don't love it, well, I think you might be stupid.

Anyways.

The show was tonight, and well ... it was lackluster.

First, the sound licked elephant balls.

Second, with an album as good as theirs, you forget that they are a relatively new band. That their shit isn't as tight as say, well, The YYYs shouldn't surprise us. I mean, he actually warned us about that.

But, as Miss Sarin stated, 'It felt like we were watching my buddy's band in high school."

They just weren't as ... perfect as I had hoped.

This doesn't mean their cd isn't brilliant or that they aren't headed for greatness, just that their first show in Vancouver left something to be desired.

I still heart The XX

A Bachelor's Life

Smelly Paul pointed out a few days ago that I am living a bachelor's life.

Going out on weekdays, doing random ridiculous things, basically, living a very selfish life. And not being one little bit apologetic for it.

And I unapologetically admit that is a perfect description.

As of late, Sarin have been living like we're older and smarter 22 year olds. Saying yes to random things and trying to be open to time being spent outside of our respective apartments. And, well, it's awesome, exhausting, but awesome.

Since September long weekend I have been: to Seattle for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, seen Franz Ferdinand in Malkin Bowl, been to a magazine launch party, went to The Pet Shop Boys with my boyfriends, seen The Monotonix, Holy Fuck, and I just got back from Las Vegas with my friend Andi.

Holy shit, I had no idea how ... busy September was until I wrote about it.

You'll get semi-full details of my trip to Vegas soon enough.

Seattle Saturday

So, Sarin and I came up with the BRILLIANT idea of driving to Seattle, spending the night, going out, seeing the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and coming home for Franz Ferdinand.

We are the fucking coolest chicks alive.

Saturday, we drove to Seattle - which is, in our minds, bizarro Vancouver. We did a bit of shopping, went to the Experience Music Project and went out.

This was our night out:

Walk outside to smoke. A boy talks to us and asks us where we're going. He tells us of a different place, we go, and continue to get ridiculously intoxicated.

Sarin was a pimp and totally got us drinks all night. It was pretty sweet, I'm not going to lie.

As the bar is closing, some hot dude starts chatting with us, and from there on, the details are fuzzy.

What we know:

We got home ok.

So, really, all the fuzzy doesn't matter. We didn't lose each other. Yes, some questionable life choices were made, but in the end, all is well.

Sunday morning, however, was ridiculously painful.

Art Star

This weekend, something I never thought would happen, is happening.

Sarin and I are heading to Seattle. And we are going for a very specific reason:

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs are playing the Bumbershoot Music Festival.

I have loved the YYYs since Big Daddy downloaded Fever To Tell on my computer. It was the first full album I had liked in a really long time. I put it on heavy rotation and kept it there. I became infatuated with Karen O. There is no other way to say it. She is the fucking coolest chick alive - easily.

This weekend is all the more sweet because seeing them perform has been in my grasp twice before, tickets in hand and everything. sigh.

My first solo trip to NYC I bought tickets for the second of two sold-out shows they were doing at the Bowery Ballroom. Unfortunately, a few days before the show, I realized that the show was on the evening I was leaving. I couldn't go and my heart was sad. I even made an attempt to buy tickets from scalpers, but alas, there were none.

The next time was the summer I interned in New York. I had tickets for a show they were doing at the McCarren Park Pool. Turns out, after working my ass off, impressing enough people and being offered a job there, I had to move the week of their show. I thought at the time, no worries, I am getting my dream, I can give up my tickets.

How naive was I?

Well, all that 'close but no cigar' business is over this weekend. This Sunday, I will be getting to finally see them.

I honestly don't think I have ever been this excited for a show before.

Other than Jarod's shumka dancing of course.

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

Well I am. So I will write.

This week has been busy. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I am a busy bee, with people to see and things to do.

Ok, well, more just sitting around with Sarin, hanging out.

First, let me properly introduce you all to Sarin. She is, like so many of my favorite people, from Edmonton. And to best sum it up, she is my bizarro. We share many of the same thoughts and interests and well, kinda everything. She has her own versions of Smelly, Priscilla and confusing boys, that she makes my life feel less alone.

Anyways, my social weekend consisted of two houseparties and one amazing concert.

Friday night, Sarin and I went to a houseparty I was invited to by a friend, with the promise of boys.

And boys there were. Ladies, if you have been wondering (like I have been) where all the single straight men are, well, there was a house in Kits the all apparently lived.

The boy-to-girl ratio was ridiculous, but alas, none of them struck my fancy - well, to be fair, between the dancing to Jizz in My Pants to building a torch, they didn't have time to do much else. After watching one stand on a car, with no shirt and said torch in the middle of the street, we were confident the police would be arriving and darted out of there.

We grabbed some latenight (gasp) healthy eats at The Naam and headed home.

Saturday I met a friend for lunch at a Mexican joint by my place, hit the beach with another friend and then headed to the show with Ash and Sarin.

Phew, I'm tired just thinking about it.

After the show, Sarin and I went to another houseparty. I stayed for a little while, but then headed home.

The lesson from this weekend is that I am not a houseparty person. I have to be incredibly drunk to find any sort of pleasure from random, non-coherent interactions with strangers. I don't know how people find this enjoyable.

HOW?

Most people are stupid. Most drunk people are intolerable. So why, as a semi-sober person, do I want to interact with them en masse?

Sorry, that went a little ranty. My apologies.

Sidenote - the real issue with sleep problems is that I am now ready for a nap, but instead, I have to jump in the shower and head to work, where I am expected to be bright, and creative and presentable.

This is going to be a really long day.

sigh