Mar
7
2010
Okay, I was out for about two hours yesterday and came home completely wiped out. I could not participate in the Olympic-themed fun as an athlete, because I am coughy and germy, but I got a lot of good photos as ‘Press’.
Bo was surprised and delighted. They had various ‘events’ to compete in, including the above three-legged race and one bizarre relay that included cartwheels and singing O Canada in English and French. (Everyone had to fake the French:O Canada, notre maison et…aussi notre place. Ce’st vrai que nous vous aime, Dans tous notres fils….dites…) Beth, how bad was that?
After the events, everybody else went to have a toga-and-finger food party, and I went home to the couch.
Mar
6
2010
A few days ago, E brought in the mail, and there were a couple of copies of Cook’s Illustrated in the pile. This puzzled us, because the only time it has come to our house was when I grabbed an issue from Tara in December for a shortbread variation. I should have known I was not firing on all cylinders when I wondered, “Maybe they microchip them to see where they go? And then send enticing issues…? Maybe they can see into my kitchen. With satellites.”
Turns our Morgan and Tara got me a subscription. No microchips. Thanks, M&T!
Yesterday I woke up and my throat was like knives. Thank you, body, for getting sick on my busiest day, right before a really, full, fun weekend.
Seriously, I had a birthday toga party, hanging out with Gen and Arwen, shopping, and dinner out with E all planned. This has been pared down to hanging out with my brother’s friends for an hour (It’s his birthday today! And my number one Godson’s! And E’s best friend, who is also a Scott! March 6 is a big day around here!) while I blow my nose incessantly and curse my mucous production.
So now I am a snotty, bitter mess. Fuck you, body. Do you KNOW how seldom I see my friends? Or that I NEED to buy underwear? (Also, who is stealing my underwear? I used to have more pairs than I do now.) Or that I was going to be taken out for STEAK, but you can only handle soup! Fuck you very much, stupid, frail body.
At least I have Cook’s Illustrated to keep me and my ginger tea and endless kleenex company.
Mar
4
2010
“So tell me why this lecture is arcane,” I suggested to my brother as we were walking to lunch.
He said a lot of things about apperception and synthetic and analytical unity.
“Okay,” I said. “You just be sure to call me when you need an in-depth analysis of the evolution of the Sexy Faerie in Young Adult Literature.”
I went up to UBC today to hear my brother give a lecture on what is apparently the hardest part of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, which is something he knows a lot about.
I was lost, which I fully expected to be. I was also really interested, because Bo is a wicked lecturer. Sandii came with me, and she thought it was really interesting, but she is much more analytical than I am. Follow a logical train of thought? I will get lost in the woods every time.
On the way home I told her, “That’s why I tell people he’s the smart one.” Which I do. People seem worried when I do, like I’m telling people I am stupid. They rush to reassure me, which is lovely, but unnecessary.
General (and even specific) knowledge, I have in droves. Want to know where bongos live, the effect of beamier boats on the BC fishing industry, or how to cook a salmon 137 different ways? I know that stuff.
My brother, however, has way more smart-guy Philosophy stuff crammed into his brain than I do. Tons. I’m impressed with his brain, and that’s actually something that doesn’t happen a lot.
I’d like to sit in on a class that was less arcane. Maybe I would have a clue.
Mar
1
2010
At work, our reading and vocabulary exercises often have to do with animals. Animals, as a subject, are generally popular with the kids doing the exercises. They ask questions, and the questions breed more questions, and sometimes we can all learn something new and cool from the conversations we have.
There were two questions I couldn’t answer definitively today.
1) Can an aardvark swim? Um. I told the student that since aardvarks live in hot and dusty places in Africa, its probably not a big factor in their skill set.
2) Can crocodiles stand on their hind legs? I said: Probably not, because their bodies are heavy and they need the support of four legs. Their legs can support their bodies, but do not hinge that way. (I got down on the floor to show that while they can lift their bodies somewhat, they have the wrong legs for standing upright.) Besides, if a crocodile stood on its hind legs, and chased us, we would be WAY more scared of crocodiles!
Another memorable lesson. Just not the lesson the company intended.
Feb
28
2010
(I pick up the phone)
“Hello, Liz. This Is JayLo. Are you in with Operation Maple Leaf?”
“What can I do for my country today?”
Honestly, I thought I had nothing slated for today. I am not a hockey girl. I’m not a sports girl. But Jay and Jenny picked me up and we went to Jim’s. He has a high definition TV and an ice machine in his fridge. It’s the best place in the world if you are going to watch a sports game.
***
“He’s not answering.”
“Shit! Puck drop’s in ten!”
“Wait, I left the window open last night. Maybe I can get in.”
(I climb in the window and let Jenny and JayLo in to turn on the TV and get cooking)
***
Jim comes down from the shower.
“Oh. Hey, Jim. We got you some coffee.”
“Hi, Jim. Sorry I broke into your house so three beautiful women could watch the game and cook breakfast for you.”
“Um. That’s ok. Really ok.”
***
First and second periods go by. Lots of “GoGoGoGoGo!” and “OH MY GOD!” and “Hit him! HIT HIM!”
***
Third period.
“We can do this. We just have to bring the Zen. Be the puck, guys, be the puck.”
“Fuck! I cannot handle this. Another goal! MORE! MORE!”
“I’d be more comfortable with a two-goal lead.”
“Oh, come ON, Canada! Everybody knows the winners get steak and a blow job!”
“Wait, really? Are you going to…”
“Not ME! Personally, I mean. But it’s not like they’re not going to be spoilt for choice.”
End of third period.
“OHMYGOD! How can they DO this to me! We hate you! We HAAAATE you!”
“JesusJesusJesus. I can’t take it. I’m going to have a coronary!”
“It’s ok, I have pills.”
“OK, guys, let’s be positive. We’ve done this before.”
“I haven’t.”
“Shush. We need to believe. Give them the positive vibes.”
***
Overtime
“God!”
“Oh God!”
“GoGoGoGo”
“No! NOT THAT WAY!”
“Ooooh!”
“RAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
“Wait, if the winners get steak and blow jobs, what do the silver medalists get?”
“Hmm. McDonalds drive-thru and a hand job?”
“Yeah. Six McNuggets and a hand job. Sorry, USA.”
Feb
27
2010
On Thursday I finally got to go down to E’s LiveCity venue. Just in time for an awesome Brazilian band. I almost quit my job to join the band.
On Thursday, I also misheard a student who said, “To span is to stretch across.” I thought he said,”To span is to stretch a frog.” Wait, what? Stop! NO stretching frogs!
I also realized that I have almost no phone numbers memorized. The ones I do have memorized are those of my friends’ parents, from waaay back. Because a few of my friends are staying at their parents’ houses, due to their own homes being in upheaval, it is nice to be able to call them by punching in a sequence of numbers, as opposed to scrolling down my faceplate. It kind of…humanizes it. But phone numbers I have memorized?
Mine
E’s
Arwen’s
Morgan’s mom
Gen’s mom
Halfmoon Bay (which was my home in the summertime, so the second number I ever memorized)
My aunt
The Commissary in Port Hardy (that no longer exists)
Translink
My grade 10 boyfriend’s parents (who may or may not still live there)
That’s it. If I lose my cellphone, I am hooped.
Also, I blew an ipod speaker. I didn’t know I could do that. I haven’t been listening that loudly. Much. I think I can blame John Bonham, though.
Yesterday I had to explain the concept of onion dip to some students. When I thought about it, I realized it is probably classified as a traditional North American dish, which I didn’t think we had, apart from foods that First Nations people ate, before the smallpox and cable TV and reserves and all that.
It seems to me that there are several North American traditional recipes, if you count ‘traditional’ as ‘everybody knows how to make it’. Most of ‘em are post- WWII, and rely heavily on processed foods, though. Think of Ambrosia Salad or some of those Southern creations that all seem to involve Velveeta. Can I even buy Velveeta here? I never tried.
I did try to buy garlic bread at No Frills today, though. No garlic bread. I suppose that means it is a Frill. But chili prawn wonton wrappers are available? A staple? I don’t get it. In my house, garlic bread is a way of life.
Garlic bread, because E will be home from LiveCity for dinner tomorrow. Lasagna and garlic bread and Caesar salad for us for Sunday dinner!
Feb
23
2010
Forgive my time travel back from 1954, but E has just informed me that Olympic Volunteers are issued a ‘Non-Religious Moral Guide’ authored by none other than L Ron Hubbard! Suddenly, the lovefest in the coat tent makes sense! The high-fives and group hugs would certainly be par for the course.
But the poor bus etiquette and general uselessness? L Ron should have devoted a chapter to that. Because these people get free bus passes, outfits and accessories, and this what I see them doing:
Standing around on street corners in groups, perusing maps and disrupting the flow of pedestrian traffic.
Walking around gawking at things. See above, re: pedestrian traffic.
Not moving back as more people get on the bus.
Not vacating seats for the elderly/people with crutches on the bus.
Getting off the front doors of the bus, even when there is a clear way to the back doors.
Not doing a single useful thing since the beginning to February, that I can see. (Dude who scrutinized my boobs in an effort to find the accreditation badge that wasn’t there, you are a double helping of Useless. They are boobs, not plastic laminated pics of my face. Lots of people can tell the difference.)
L Ron, you’re on notice. You’re falling down on your Politeness Brainwashing Obligations.
Feb
20
2010
You modern ladies have it easy. Back here in 1954, not only do I need to wear pearls while vacuuming, I need to impress my husband’s boss. Usually we do this by hosting elaborate dinner parties, featuring prawn cocktail, Beef Wellington, Whiskey Sours (the men) and surreptitious slugs of cooking sherry (me).
Luckily, I have found a short cut that’s even easier than Ambrosia Salad in one of my heirloom jelly molds: Send cookies to work!
E just phoned me to tell me what a hit they were. The boss of the whole site, who actually only acknowledged E three days ago, hugged him today when offered a cookie. This bodes well for future jobs for E. If this Dave person remembers E on crew = possibility of cookies, we are in clover!
I think I’ll send snickerdoodles on Monday.
Feb
17
2010
So I accidentally turned into a ’50’s housewife. E is working 8AM to at least 11PM seven days a week, so I have been making his lunches. Well, the food that lasts him all day, so 3 sandwiches, 3 pieces of fruit, and a power bar. I am also doing his laundry, as an Olympics Only special, since he doesn’t have time, and I really think he deserves clean underwear and socks.
Did you know there is such a thing as Sandwich Fatigue? There is. It’s what happens when I get in from work to stare at the sliced meats E bought for lunches, and think, “Oh God, salami, there you are again. Ham, I weary of you. Begone, beef.” I cannot even imagine how bored E is of eating them. I might make him Peanut Butter and Ham and see if he notices.
What did women of the nineteen fifties do about Sandwich Fatigue? Valium? Or was that the Sixties?
Anyway, it’s been on my mind for a while that the crew could use some treats. But one of them has gluten allergies, and she can’t just snag any old passing cookie. So I emailed my Swedish friend, Ulli, who is allergic to gluten, and asked for a cookie recipe. She emailed me back a recipe for some cookies called Kolasnittar. Really. Say it out loud. Obv, I have to make these cookies, because of the name. But first, I’m trying a gluten-free chocolate chip mix I found at the health food store for Donna, and the boys can have normal chocolate chip-oatmeal.
Why am I making gluten-free treats for Donna? I tend not to question my whims. But here’s what I think: Donna works long hours amidst burly men and holds her own. I’m stuck in the laundry/vacuuming/oh God, not-the-sandwiches-again 1950s and I’m throwing some love to the Liberated Woman. I’m saying, Thanks for kicking ass and taking names. Give me two weeks, I’ll ditch the apron and pointed bra, and be right there with you again.
Feb
14
2010
Ok, I admit it. I cried during the opening ceremonies when Rick Hansen brought the flame into the stadium. And thanks to Rachel for taping the stuff I missed. A pretty good ceremony, minus the glitches. When I can talk to Russell, who was under the stage at the ceremony, I’ll let you all know what happened with that fourth torch-arm fail.
Patriotic pride aside, this city is not equipped for this many people. I know we have all been admonished to cycle or take transit, but there’s a lot of flaws in that. Translink added buses and Skytrains and extended times. However, they seem to have completely overlooked the fact that some of the thousands of people coming from the LiveCity venues downtown after the show’s over at 11PM don’t need Skytrains or Sea Buses. They are trying to get to places within the city itself, and with the exception of the 16 up into Kerrisdale (K-Nec’s doing, Rachel?), and the night buses, none of the local routes get extra buses. People coming, oh, let’s say from Livecity Yaletown to Kits at 11:30PM get two buses blowing by them til one lets them on. Ken Hardie, if your Google bots flag this post, how ’bout a couple of extra 22s, 7s, and 3s coming through downtown between 11 and midnight? Just to sweeten the pot.
Transit is strapped, but actually driving is presenting its own unique challenges. People from other cities with other rules are now wending their dangerous way through our streets. Turning left from the far right lane? Not OK here. Driving the wrong way down a one-way street? Nope. U-turns at Granville and Davie? Also Not Done. I have become Eagle Eye Liz over here, keeping out of harm’s way.
Those big white buses, though? The ones to carry athletes around? I have to say, those drivers are pretty aware and considerate. I am liking the white buses (with the exception of the guy who almost hit me because he was picking his nose so hard!)
I sort of feel like we’re up on the World Stage, and we totally blanked on our lines.