Saturday, June 4, 2011

A diary entry without the hand cramps.

I wonder why it is that every time I go to write a post on this [recently] neglected blog my mind draws a blank. The most annoying part of it is that I have tons to write about. TONS. But I don't want this to be a journal for all to see.

Dear diary...

Because really, I don't actually think any of you really care THAT much about the everyday going on's in my life. Ok, 98% of my readers actually already know the everyday going on's in my life, so they would be bored reading my blog. And I'm not about boredom. Except for today when it's the nicest day we've seen in 17 years, I don't work, and I can't think of anything to do. So I'm doing what I secretly love the most: hanging out at Starbucks, drinking iced coffee, and talking to the people I love the most in the world while they slave away behind the counter and I become the demanding paying customer who steals internet. Except this time I'm sitting on the patio, enjoying the sunshine. In the shade, of course. My body would go into shock if I sat in the sun since it was just two days ago that roomie had the heat on in the house, and I was wearing jeans and a hoody because it was so cold out. I don't understand...

Ok, so update time? Maybe? Ok...

I got my windshield fixed. I was beyond impressed. Not only is my windshield brand, spankin', shiny new, but the place I went to gave me a rental car while they fixed it so I didn't have to hang out at an autobody shop for three hours (as much as I wanted to), they cleaned the outside of my car (no more caked on whipped cream streaks - thanks, MojitoMate (<-- do you like this name? We can work on it if not.)), they cleaned the inside and neatly piled up the stuff they found scattered throughout (ie: socks, a screwdriver, two pillows, a serving tray, a box of cereal, and approximately 46 tampons - but those were piled neatly on the passenger seat...and where were all of those when I was frantically looking for one? ANYWAY...), and they even shampooed the interior! Now I drive a good four meters away from any vehicle because I'm scared a rock is going to come flying at me and crack my pretty windshield. Feel free to pass me, I won't be offended. Just wave as you do, so I feel loved.

You know how I might be obsessed with bacon? Well I've started incorporating it into everything I make. And by everything I mean, well, everything. I began with bacon chocolate chip cookies. It was risky and adventurous and pretty much a hit.

Ego is boosted.

Feel like I can do something crazier.

Caramel and bacon would be superb together.

Caramel bacon bars it is.

I've made two batches in less than a week. However, I'm happy and proud to say that I did not eat both batches all to myself. I shared. I hope all of you that ate some ignored my glares as I painfully watched you consume the bacon that would normally all be eaten by me, without sharing. I'm a giver. Sometimes. I kept getting told they were delicious. I'll assume those weren't pity compliments. And it's your own fault for pity complimenting me, if that was the case, when more bars were shoved down your throat because I thought that's what you wanted. DON'T LIE TO ME NEXT TIME.

Side note: why is my Starbucks out of classic syrup? I've decided coconut is not a substitute for classic in my iced coffee. It might be worth the dollar to go next door and get iced coffee from McDonalds. It was there that my love for it was discovered. I'll let you know what happens in this suspenseful saga of my life, don't worry.

Let's rewind just over a year ago to when the Olympics were in Vancouver. I was an Olympic bandwagon jumper. I hated that they were here. I thought it was inconvenient and a hassle for anybody that lived on the "other side" of the bridge, aka me. Traffic was crazy. People were crazy. The entire world was here. There wasn't enough room. Vancouver made a fool of themselves by not having all the construction, etc. done that they planned for when the Olympics were to be here. But, K was coming into town, and I might have missed her a little bit, so downtown I went. And it was amazing. The atmosphere was insane. I was proud to be from Vancouver (Vancouver, Chilliwack, Abbotsford, it's all the same. At that particular time I don't actually think I really had a home, but that's another story for another day.).

So this whole Canucks thing feels a little bit the same. I legitimately feel excited that they've made it this far in the finals. And seeing everyone so excited makes me pretty excited. But the excitement here in the Valley is nothing compared to that in the city. So I decided I wanted to experience the excitement of at least ONE of the final games in Vancouver. Hi, BFF. Next weekend I will be sporting my Canucks tee, cheering them on in front of some sort of big screen on some street that is closed off for all of us fans (bandwagon jumpers or not), and experiencing the excitement. All I have to say to you Canucks is please win. It will be game 5. Ideally, you should make it so it's 3-1 game win by then, and then win game 5, so you win the cup. I would like to be in Vancouver for that. I get goosebumps thinking about it. I hate that I have emotion invested in this. That's not who I am.

Now I'm going to spend the rest of my afternoon stealing songs with my stolen internet. Maybe Facebook-stalk a little bit. Maybe peruse Craigslist for things I don't need and then contemplate how I could fit a bookshelf in my car. Maybe take an afternoon snooze in the sun because I woke up this morning in my clothes from yesterday (oops), so we can all guess how my sleep last night was. Stop judging, at least I woke up wearing clothes.