Attention all vegetarians and vegans! If you have the strength, it’s time to get up and go to the other room while I discuss one of the true joys of life – the ingestion of hunks of dead animals. Yes, even with that description I salivate at the thought of chowing down on my next burger/steak/chop/rib/dog. (Okay, hot dogs aren’t really meat, but they’re still better than any “veggie” based meal I can think of) @NetChick took me for my birthday last night to Bolero Fire Grill and OMG it was awesome! If you’ve never been to a Brazilian BBQ (I dare you not to think of cows with well-trimmed bikini lines) then you’re in for a treat! The Gauchos (waiters) stop by with huge sword-sized skewers composed primarily of every possible type of meat, and you get to eat all you like! It’s like a buffet that comes to YOU! Chicken legs, baby-back ribs, a half dozen types of beef, swordfish (served on a sword?!), even grilled pineapple! It was a gourmand delight that my colon will likely never forgive, but it’s just gonna have to get over it. My favourites were the bacon-wrapped chicken and bacon-wrapped filet. (I KNOW!) To top it all off, they brought me a birthday dessert with a Roman candle and, in lieu of the horrible group-sing that everyone hates the waiter sang “This is the world’s shortest birthday song – HEY!” it was perfect. It finished off a truly great 41st birthday after the big Vegas trip, and it was all due to the lovely NetChick. Thanks sweetie!
For the last few mornings, as I leave for work I see a single, lonely black shoe at the front door. His life partner is in Chicago. Not by choice – he was kidnapped. Halloween was a good time this year. @Netchick and I went to a neighbour’s costume party – she was Snooky from Jersey Shore (and looked totally hot with black hair) and I was either her bodyguard or the MIB depending on who you talked to. Which brings me to the subject of shoes. I had my standard black dress shoes to match my black suit and black tie. The party’s host was a fine looking Elvis, but sadly was missing his blue suede shoes. And the most disturbing sight was a 50 year old man in a Playboy bunny suit, fishnets, long blonde wig and pink pumps! The problem was that he looked TOO good. His daughter was wearing the same costume, and five or six drinks could have left some confused single men wondering which one to hit on… But he complained all night that his feet hurt. Men don’t stand for uncomfortable shoes no matter how hot they make his calves look. I was fine, because my shoes were left in the foyer – or so I thought. It would seem I share similar style and foot size with a gentleman that was heading to Chicago the next day. I think he might have slightly overindulged, because when I went to put on my shoes it was obvious they were not a pair at all, but more like cousins who are a couple years apart. I’m told my shoes will reunite on Friday. I’ll be at the airport, sign in had – “Shoe: party of one”. Maybe I’ll shed a tear. Wonder which shoes I’ll wear?
My sweetie is gone. She left me. Sigh. Luckily, I’m joining her Thursday in #YVR for a little event we like to call THE WEDDING! Looking forward to seeing the Vancouver gang again, and officially wrapping up my dear sweet Ellie for the next few decades. Then we’re off on an incredible honeymoon in Northern Europe! It’s all quite surreal at this point, and I’ll only fully believe it when it’s happening (grumpy volcanoes notwithstanding).
Meanwhile, I’m here by myself for a few days getting ready for the next few weeks, doing stuff around the house (ever drained a plugged hottub? Pain in the A$$!), and deciding what to pack. And I’m doing most of it in my Fruit of the Looms. Kinda liberating, really. @Netchick certainly doesn’t mind my bareness, but I have some real body image problems that prevents me from taking my shirt off – pretty much ever. So bopping around the house topless is kinda fun, as long as all the shades are drawn. Tonight is movie night, and a buddy is coming over to experience ZombieLand in all its goofy glory. Fortunately for him, I’ll be clothed from head to toe again by the time he arrives. Modesty is the primary reason, and shrinkage the other. It’s a little chilly down there.
Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of NetChick and IAmAJenius. Their mission: To find each other in their new home. Now that we’ve pretty much finished moving and unpacking what few belongings we brought with us to Calgary, it’s become obvious this lifestyle will take some getting used to.
When one goes from 750 to 3000 square feet of living space (including the basement, not including the garage) it’s amazing how different daily life can be. Here are the top five as I see them…
5. Moving from claustrophobia to agoraphobia
4. Communication goes from hand gestures and nodding to yelling and intercoms (even when we’re not disagreeing )
3. It becomes surprisingly lonely when in a room by myself for more than a minute or two
2. Cleaning is now a scheduled, full day event
And Number 1….. Four, count ‘em FOUR TV’s!!!
Honourable mention goes to the paranoia of not being able to see all your possessions by turning your head from side to side. But despite any downsides, we both LOVE LOVE LOVE this home!
Well, it’s lunch time – have to put on my running gear and leave for the kitchen. Should only take me about 15 minutes if I walk fast… after all, I’m upstairs.
No, the title isn’t a typo, and I didn’t mean to say that other word. To explain, we are currently bunking with the lovely and talented Al @twowheelgeek in the Calgary enclave of Bridgeland. Every day I walk downtown to Stephen Ave Mall to get to my office. I cross the river, past the drop in centre and clothing depot. I’ve come to think that the folks around there have overproductive saliva glands and other fluid issues which require them to purge regularly on the sidewalk.
It’s unpleasant, and I apologize for the pic if you’re easily grossed out. Hey, this could easily be a single-cell organism, or a small sea animal, or…. ummmm… something not disgusting at all! And maybe I didn’t almost step on it, or it’s sister on my way to work this morning. Just be glad I didn’t post the spit-pics…
I do have fun trying to decide what each Rorchach-like deposit looks like, and how certain refuse actually got on to the sidewalk in the first place. Otherwise I’d gag all the way to work. Tomorrow we move in to our beautiful home in Auburn Bay, and I get to drive 30 minutes instead of walk. I wonder if my parking spot will be spitting distance from the office?
Whew! Just finished the purchase of Tanya (AKA NetChick)’s birthday present. The soon-not-to-be-thirty-something birthday girl (sorry sweetie) is one of the most difficult people I’ve ever gifted before! Several reasons . . .
- I love her to bits, and shudder at the thought of disappointing her.
- I set the stupid bar waaaaay too high last year. Wondering what I did? Click here and you’ll understand.
- Dealing with a woman’s 40th (eeeeeek!) is no small matter, and shins will be kicked (or other more sensitive body parts) if one doesn’t tread very lightly, even with the most understanding of the female species.
- And finally, if I get the wrong “type” of gift, I’ll be categorized as the “you don’t really know me at all!” guy, thus making her wonder if I ever really listen to her.
Sound familiar guys?
But seriously, I know she’ll love it, and although it took literally HOURS of research, that was just to make sure it was perfect.
Until then, we all agree that Tanya couldn’t POSSIBLY be turning that age! She looks at least 10 years younger. I’d peg her at… oh, say…. 29. At the oldest. Seriously.
Got back last night from a wonderful weekend in the Calgary suburb of Radium Hot Springs, BC. The Columbia Valley is a very interesting enclave of the BC interior. They are on Mountain Time with Alberta, play host to about a quarter million Calgarian weekend warriors who own recreational property there, yet still endure gas prices of $1.09 when Calgary is at 94.9, suffer BC land transfer tax and, as of July 1, the dreaded HST!!! Ask a native of the Radium/Invermere area what they think of Albertans and you’ll likely get a sneer and a huffy comment about property prices rising out of his price range and the environment being raped by thoughtless Albertan capitalists as he accepts your hard earned dollars at his recently-opened business that couldn’t possibly exist without the tourists. I admit they do have a point, and I am one of those weekend warriors who owns property there. I gas up before I go, and after I leave. And when I remember, I get groceries PST-free and truck them over the border. I hate sales tax, and will pay as little of it as possible. It’s the Alberta way. And I am an unabashed SUV-driving capitalist.
As a conscientious environmentalist, I would like development to stop. I don’t want any more condos or hotels in the valley. I want to maintain what is left of the pristine scenery. I like to watch the bighorn sheep graze silently outside my window on the golf course. And the new people can go somewhere else… I was here first. Or at least I was one of the first 200 thousand. They can come back when I want to sell, cuz I can make a killing on my investment if there’s enough interest.
It’s so hard not to be a hypocrite these days, but at least I can recognize it when I look in the mirror.
Hello again blogosphere! This time I promise to treat you with more respect. I will blog with greater regularity, I will refrain from talking too much about the downside and backside of cats, and I will do my best to entertain while letting my readers in on the wonderful weirdness I find around me.
First, a quick note – I am not a genius. I know that. Hence the obvious misspelling (sp?:) of the word. No I didn’t even check if iamagenius was available. I just find it fascinating that so many people think they’re the second coming of Einstein while clearly demonstrating otherwise. I find this quite amusing. For those of you who caught the joke early, thank you. For the rest, just pretend you did and we won’t mention it again.
Good to be back…
As a born and raised Albertan, I have to admit it’s good to be back. After a hectic move from Vancouver to Calgary, Tanya (aka NetChick) and I have been enjoying the city a lot, and we’re looking forward to moving into our new home in Okotoks. Actually, it’s not Okotoks, it’s just waaaaaaaay in the south part of town. I just like saying Okotoks. It sounds funny. Speaking of such things, I am also having fun introducing Tanya to the Alberta way of things, which can be very different than the Left Coast. Calling it the Left Coast, for example. And pronouncing this city CAL-gree, as opposed to CAL-GARY. If you’re from a place, you tend to slang it up when you talk about it. Edmontonians call their city Emmintin. Vancouverites live in Vangcoovr. And after Borat came out, Kazakhstanis were from “Central Asia”.
I’m sure there are more great examples out there, and I’d love to hear them. How do you pronounce your home town?