She lived in a cage for 5 years pumping out puppies and lapping water from a fucking hamster bottle. 5 years without anything but wire walls and an abscessed mouth full of rotten teeth- half of which we had to have pulled so that she could learn to eat properly- and a growth covering half of her one and only eye, unnecessarily rendering her mostly blind until we also had that removed. She’d never been for a walk or fallen asleep in someone’s lap while feeling safe and she had never seen a toy let alone would have known what the hell to do with one.

She was never a puppy, she was a product.

This is Lucy now.

She still has her problems. She bolts out of the room at unexpected loud noises, shakes for hours after the thunder stops and has to be medicated for fireworks, but she sleeps curled up with Maggi at the foot of our bed -safe- every night.

I have a long list today but it starts off with the fact that I am hopeful that Steve sees this new post in his reader and goes out and picks me up a bottle of wine. It has to go first on the list because I swear that he only skims my posts. Fucker. Plus I want the wine really bad so it should be first.

Other slightly less important things that I am hopeful for;

*I am hopeful that our plane doesn’t crash when we whip out to Edmonton this weekend for Ckenzie’s wedding. She has been like a daughter to me since she was 8 and though her dad and I dated for less than a year and I lost touch with him about a decade ago, she still calls me mom.

**I am hopeful that Steve still wants to fly home with me on Sunday. As a large contingent of my father’s side of the family happen to live in Edmonton my fantastic Uncle Darcy will be hosting a big bbq in honour of my rather rare visit. There will be loads of us of all ages and ungodly amounts of booze and laughter and someone will fall in the fire at some point, even if there isn’t one. I will do drunken wheelies in my Uncle Dale’s wheelchair for at least a half hour on the back deck or until Dale throws a beer can at me from the grass, or wherever I have unceremoniously dumped him.

Steve will be meeting them all for the first time. They will undoubtedly recount the time I was spending the summer in Alberta with my father and he pulled a rifle on a guy I was holding hands with on the couch while whispering a low and frighting “What are your intentions with my daughter?” When the boy eventually started breathing again my father simply giggled and walked away. They may also bring up the time a date came to pick me up and my father and 7 of his 9 siblings answered the door. They scrutinized him in total silence while he stood awkwardly outside wondering what to do until one of my uncles finally yelled out “Fuck it! Don’t like the look of this one, let’s string him up!”

Again, Steve will be meeting them all for the first time. Fuck.

**I am hopeful that my damn receptionist gets back from her 400 year holiday soon. I hate people and I want to beat the shit outta the fucking photocopier.

***I am hopeful that baby Gray remembers the fun days like last Sunday when he’s older. Sitting with Auntie Kim having lunch and then traipsing around the wildlife park and having to kidnap him with a modified full nelson out of the bouncy room and throwing him down the slide lest we never be able to leave the park.

***I am hopeful that Susin’s husband Stan never again accidentally orders 50 wings instead of 15 on wing day. 50 hot and 50 garlic. Despite the 100 wing fiasco in the afternoon, he still managed to polish off the bulk of his dinner at the Mexican place we went to before the Kelowna Matt Good show. I am also hopeful that the four of us will have many many more of those patio dinners when we laugh so hard margarita comes out of places that it shouldn’t.

****I am hopeful Steve goes to pick me up a bottle of wine that is waiting for me when I get home from work. A big one. Yes, I know I’ve already said that. Shut up.

*****I am hopeful that my crazy lovely mother has many more birthdays ahead of her. When I phoned her yesterday she said “My birthday? Today?” *obvious sounds of flipping pages in the background, maybe a calendar or maybe the phone book- with her you never know* “Oh look! It is! Wow, I’m 83 today!” (Just for the record, she’s 62 but is desperately looking forward to when she “looks” old enough to act batshit crazy in public and get away with it. You laugh because you think I’m kidding. You clearly haven’t met my mother. She will pee her pants in public the first chance she gets. Do not doubt me on this.)

*****Lastly I am hopeful that Steve bought wine. or beer. I could really handle a nice cold beer while walking the dogs later.

Monday morning, I have to tell you, was shaping up to be the start of a craptastic week. I wasn’t holding out much hope of feeling any less stabby than I stated the day.

So how does one change that tumble down the shit water-slide? How about a last minute invite from Matt Good to go to the sound check for the Kamloops show, watch the boys fuck around on stage in a big empty theater and then lounge for a good long while in the sun bullshitting with the band and 5 other people. Should that not be enough, how about if Matt graciously puts you on the guest list (with wicked seats I might add) because you have tickets for the Kelowna show tomorrow.

Yeah. That would do it.

I don’t know who I owe karmically but they need a thank you card or a case of bourbon.

Excuse the absence my pretties…..I kind of have a big bowl of diarrhea on my plate. With a side of hate.

Work is currently a pressure cooker of everything that gives birth to grey hair. Then my freelance writing gig has just heaped an ungodly amount of work on to my “unable to say no” lap and holyfuckinghell. My dog also just broke my favorite (and at the time very full) wine glass with the 700 foot stick that she had in her mouth.

Oh, and in my day job, my receptionist- the guardian that keeps the rabid salesmen away- is in Winnipeg awaiting the birth of her first grandchild. I love her and am excited about her new family addition but because this blog is all about ME I have to lament her absence in that I had to deal with the crazy fucking spa product chick that I’ve hated for 3 years and who Karen knows well to keep far away from me least I punch her in the throat.

So… having said that… I miss you all. I haven’t visited any blogs since my legs felt freshly shaved and I can’t see this changing in the next week. Stick with me gang, I’ll provide porn and free product samples soon. Or at least I’ll blog about wanting to have porn and free product samples.

Oh, and did I mention that I’m working towards launching a kick ass food blog?

Yeah. I need more wine.

On the up side, Steve and I zip out to Kelowna on Wednesday to see my other boyfriend Matt Good in concert. This is prefaced by a wee visit with my baby Gray before Suz Stan & Steve & I head out for an awesome mexi dinner and then some swooning (or at least Suz & I) over Mr. Good.

I definitely need more fucking wine.

So the Good clan grows……..

Between the little cutie his wife brought along and the one that is currently incubating in her oven, we may have a Good family band yet! It will be like the Partridge family- I mean, if the Partridge family blogged about human rights, politics and how to shit bomb someone with the stealth of a ninja.

I’m hoping for a bizarre celebrity name. I’m also hoping the first baby pic to eventually hit his blog has the wee one in the ever popular though rarely seen “I hear Matt Good is a real asshole” onesie.

Congratulations!

(I told Steve that my “other boyfriend” was pregnant & he seemed genuinely pleased. Damn fine man, him.)

This is my Friday. This is what it feels like when the stars are all aligned.

*The gorgeous shiny solid metal pasta maker that I ordered online arrived. I always have things delivered to my office as no one is at home so it was a little awkward when everyone saw me making out with it. Of course they’ll forget all about that when I come in on Monday with Lobster stuffed ravioli in a thyme and brown butter sauce! HA!

**I leave in the morning for a sleepover with Suz & my baby Gray. We shall spend the day at the water park with a picnic lunch and a giggly little boy. I have recently purchased a wicked new camera so I will undoubtedly spend an inordinately large quantity of time snapping pics of him. If he grows up thinking paparazzi is normal then I fear I will be to blame.

***I just received an email telling me that the smarmy rowing machine that we bought will be leaving the warehouse on it’s way to me.

****I have cold pizza in my lunch. (Hence the necessity for the rowing machine I suppose.)

Yes- this is what it feels like when the stars are aligned. Happy Friday everyone.

If you’re not a member of the rather exclusive M+ then you may be totally unaware that Mr. Matthew Good is getting married today. Well, ok, so he told non-members too, but let me revel in a wee bit of snobbery for a moment, will ya??!! Congrats out to my favorite BC musician and  I can now hear his song “She’s in it for the money” finally dying a quiet little death.

Well holy fuck on a stick…….. How does one describe it properly? First off- I forgot my bloody camera which is very unlike me- secondly, after about 18 hours of pure panic I felt quite liberated by that fact that I no longer felt obligated to document every blindly vibrant print, classically urban Van moment or dewy yellow lemon in the market. Yes, I am regretful in some small way but in my mind it is all so clear….the only two shots taken are this one  which I feel is the epitome of Vancouver and one taken on Susin’s phone while we had beers……

I have folded and put away the copious amount of clothes that I bought, I have unwrapped the plates and the ramekins and the giant ikea frames, I have put away the super awesome and unpronounceable military grade herbal patches that I can only find in Chinatown and I have made our bed with the beautiful hand stamped print that I bought to replace the one I bought there 10 years ago……..

It was fucking delightful. Drinks with Suz in the hot tub after a long day shopping, finding the little Jewish bakery I remembered that sell the best fucking grilled vegetable knish you’ve ever tasted or discovering that the same old Tosco’s Italian import grocery still sits randomly (and just as dusty) as ever in Chinatown or the 70 billion mile olive bar down at Minirvish….

Having dinner and drinks with old friends Lise  & Richard or finally meeting and having wine and great conversation with Phaedra (whose sketch done while in Italy is already framed and hung) or loud drinks at the bar I use to run (oh the good old Cambie!- great for drinks- just don’t use the bathroom- it’s nasty as fuck.) Picking up some fruit and cheese on Granville Island and the muscles clinging to the rocks under the dock as we waited for the water taxi.

It’s been 5 years since I lived in downtown Vancouver and I was a little concerned as to what I would find in both the wake of the olympics and the time away. The fact that there are no longer trees on Granville, the inundation of “trendy” spots that are all exactly alike and the fact that buses no longer stop on Granville (WTF!!! HATE THAT! If I wanted to go down Seymore I would have!!!!)

The olympics have definitely left their scar as I knew they would- the woman on Granville Island talking to Suz about the promises made and broken or the dead zones that you see where small but fabulous “mom & Ppop” operations use to flourish. However, I have to say, my trip “home” was better than I thought it would be. I don’t know what I expected.. I left being done with the city, loving parts of it, but knowing that I was beginning to see it as a city of angry people. Over the last week I wandered the streets in the dark and felt comfortable.

I smelled the sea, I had a knish and took in the sights and smells of the place that was once my world and better yet, I did it with my best friend of 30 years and a clear charge card.

Fuck I hate Monday.