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.

I am stressed and I am burnt and I am now on vacation.

Holy Mary Mother of Dog!!!!

For someone who travels for 6 months to a year at a time- it has been 5 years since I have gone anywhere for more than a few days for the purpose of absolute relaxation and that’s just fucking wrong.

Today is Wednesday and I have gotten off of work, cracked a beer and walked the dogs. On Monday, Suz & I shall spend a week in a swanky hotel just a stones through from my old apartment in downtown Vancouver. There will be shopping, eating at my much missed favorite restaurants, and there will be drinks in the hot tub at 9am.

No men, no baby Gray, no dogs. Just the gals.

“Oh hellllo Mr. Vacation. How very nice to see you. Really? Ok. I would love to accompany you back to your place. No, I think I’ll leave my pants on this time but thanks anyway. I’ve missed you terribly.”

So I zipped out to k-town to spend the day with baby Gray and have a sleepover. Yes- it was lovely. I am the best aunty in the world and Gray is the best kid & we are in lovelovelove!

So besides some quality time with my little monster, I picked up Suz from work and we made a quick dash to the good old liquor store for a a case of cold bevy’s to go with dinner.

I got ID’d.

I turned 40 in January. Four-Zero.

I didn’t have my purse with me, just cash and the keys so I laughed, refrained from sticking my tongue down the guys throat in appreciation, and pushed the beer and a couple of $20’s over to Suz. That was when he said that she now couldn’t buy it either- even with ID- as it was clear that she was “bootlegging” for me. Suz thinks it’s clever at that point to ask me to flash him my tits to prove I’m 40. (bitch)

Yes, the guy was just doing his job, but seriously…………….WTF???

We actually had to drive to a different store. I’m not fucking kidding.

So after a grotesquely overindulgent burger-fest, Steve & I went to see Avatar. I don’t see many movies in the theater because my hips have been complete and apparently permanent assholes since I was a teen, but given that there is the whole “3-D” part of it, we gave it a whirl.

The story was a little hinkey in that we’ve heard it a bazillion times before (think of every “blockbuster put out in the last 10 years) though I did truly appreciate the fact that we as humans (oops, sorry, THE USA) were the asshats and the aliens were the better kind. It was a refreshing change for the norm.

So, despite the issues I had with the rehashed same old, same old story line, I have to say that the visuals, the lushness of the scenes, the sheer fucking beauty of it…….

Yeah, I loved it. I didn’t even notice it was almost three fucking hours long. Take it from a chick that has wonky hips and avoids theaters like the plague. It’s a really fucking fun ride. And how can you fault something that lets you turn around at any given time to look out to a room full of people wearing creepy Woody Allen-esque black framed glasses?

(And I TOTALLY want to be a hot blue chick running around half naked in a day-glow forest!!!!)

It’s a very well known fact that I cook, and I cook well. Very well in fact. I like fresh, I like aromatic, and I like bold.

However, even a hard core foodie craves a little grossness now & then and I just had my annual craving for a grease-fest. You know the kind- when you feel like you have to shower several times after eating…..

Don’t judge me.

Are these chest pains normal? Is it possible for your arteries to actually hurt?

Happy Birthday my love!

ps- Steve’s birthday isn’t actually until March 2nd but this arrived early and I lack that whole “patience” thing so I forced him to open it IMMEDIATELY. Oh, and having him bang away on this tonight while I’m trying to watch Grey’s Anatomy won’t be irritating at all. Really.

This afternoon, after my regular life chores like walking the dogs, buying the groceries and doing the dishes, I walked a block through the alley and sat on a greasy spoon diner patio in the crisp air, read The Walrus and drank a couple of beers. There were birds chirping.

It was pretty fucking excellent.