One bad blogger

Ok, I know, I have been bad. No writing, no nothing for a while now.

I suck.

But, the cool thing is, I haven't been writing, not because I haven't had anything to write about, but because there has been so much going on, I haven't had time to write!

Yay life!

The biggest of these was baby bump.

So, I hate event planning. The details details details, all for a few magical hours? Where the fuck is your return.

Anyways, thank god for Lis, because, well, this wouldn't have gone off as well as it did without her. I think she is a little magical and that's ok.

All-in-all the thing was a success. We had over 200 people through the doors and everyone, from the vendors to the customers seemed really happy with the whole thing. So that's cool.

Lis and I both made it out unscathed. Stressful, yes, but to see something that we thought of, and executed come together. Well, that was fucking cool.

Was it perfect? No. But it exceeded our expectations, and that's all it needed to do.

Plus, dad thought we did well, so I'm ok with it.

Also, it proved what an amazing support system we have. To have that big of a volunteer pool was pretty awesome. I can't imagine how we got so lucky, but here we are. Fucking lucky.

And I think I may have the best mom in the whole world. Just FYI.

Lucky

One of my dearest and bestest friends, Eve, came to Vancouver for a little viz.

I'll go into the visit later - we had a blast, as per usual.

At one point, Eve said, "Do you remember your sixth grade birthday party ..."

Eve and I, NYC 2007

I paused to appreciate the fact that I still have someone in my life (who isn't related to me) that can say that.

Afterwards, we called my mom and told her our confessions of 12 year old rebellion.

We're both grounded.

PYT

It's my favorite MJ tune. Just so good, and under-played.

Last night, my friend Sarin and I went to a good old-fashioned dance party. The dance party was in tribute of the King of Pop, and his untimely passing.

I am not going to go into the whole boo-hoo thing here. Yes, it is sad, a person died. However, I am totally unaffected by it. Nothing about his death is going to affect my real-life. Nothing.

I saw a girl on the news crying because she didn't get to tell him how much she loved him.

What? I don't understand this out-pouring of emotion for a person you never met.

Don't get me wrong, I loved MJ as much as the next person, but people, there is no need to go off the deep-end like that. If you can't handle the death of a celebrity, what the fuck are you going to do when someone you actually know dies?

Holy tangent.

Anyways, this here dance-party was held at this venue I have been itching to go to for a while - Dollhouse Studios.

Take a look - it looks hella cool, and it was hella cool. They put together a busy party in two days. So fun.

Anyways, that was my way of saying goodbye to MJ. Far better than crying in public or looking like a drama queen on national television.

Yes, I am judging. Sue me.

Asshole

Ok, so after a day which saw Steve do something amazing for me, I was happily going down to my car to drive home.

Yes, sometimes I like to laze a bit too much in the morning and end up driving to work.

Shut up.

Well, I get to my car and notice it is a mess, a much bigger mess than normal.

And then I see it. My window is broken.

Some asshole took a big fucking rock and threw it into my passenger-side window.

So, I survey the damage and realize the only thing they took was my backpack. With my climbing stuff in it.

Fuckers!

Those shoes were already broken in perfectly. It was like they were molded for my feet, most days. I was hoping to always have those climbing shoes. They were my first pair and they felt so special to me.

And my harness, beaner and belay device were all there too.

And what the hell are they going to do with my climbing gear? Get like $30 bucks for it.

Ugh.

I know I am retarded leotarded for leaving it in my car, but I always do. I am just so annoyed that in a parking garage, in downtown Vancouver, during the day, on a Thursday, these random acts of violence can occur.

Shouldn't petty thieves be relegated to night-time activities? Shouldn't they at least have a little fear of getting caught?

Fuckers.

Well, at the very least my stuff is in the hands of someone with some balls.

Boo-urns.

Maybe Vancouver doesn't suck

This week has been brilliant here in Vancouver.

Here's why.

1) As I mentioned before, May was super busy at work. We were down a couple of key people and while the rest of us couldn't pick-up all the slack, we did a pretty fucking good job. So, as a 'Thanks for working your asses off in May' my boss took us on his 98-year old wooden boat.

Fuck is it pretty.

We went along the harbour and lunched by Lonsdale Quay. We saw a yacht with a helicopter wrapped up, and well, it was awesome.

Best. Lunch. Ever.

2) I have been at the beach three times in the past week, or at the very least been by the beach. My walk home and subsequent water taxi ride are still in effect and rocking my world, but I have started to bring a sarong and just sit in the sun for a bit.

So fucking lovely and relaxing. You can't be stressed out about your day after you sit for twenty minutes and just chill out.

3) Friday rocked!

My mission on Friday night was an early evening drunk. I am talking public drinking, with friends, right after work. Now, while the 'right after work' part didn't happen that way, the early evening drunk did.

I met Josh at Kits beach, he had awesomely brought some beer for us, and we sat, drank, chit-chatted, and gawked at the scenery surrounding us. Priscilla soon joined with some friends, and then Sarin met-up with us.

Sitting there, drinking, chatting with friends, I said it out-loud:

Vancouver doesn't suck.

At least right now.

But this week, this glorious week, Vancouver didn't suck.

It's about fucking time.

Also, I have friends, did you notice? I met up with three, yes three people at the beach! And they don't suck. That is pretty fucking cool.