I Heart Chickens

So we didn't make it to the football game. The weather was too iffy and  I refused to sit in bleacher seats so we watched the game at my brother's place and had cake and ice cream for dinner. I also had cake for breakfast this morning becuase I thought I started at the gym this week. Turns out it's not until next week, so I'll be shovelling chocolately treats in as much as I can until the gym torture begins again. I hate the gym, but you'll hear more about that at a later date.

On Sunday I met BC for coffee and umbrella shopping before we found a bench to watch the Pride parade. BF decided to stay home and study which was probably for he best since half naked guys dancing on a float to Britney Spears isn't really how he likes to spend a Sunday afternoon...
Things at the parade started out a little shaky when I was getting hit on by more men than BC (see how I clarified it was by men? I wasn't wearing my lesbian shoes for a reason this weekend!) but the tides turned and BC didn't end up having to throw me in a puddle or light a fire for attention. Crisis averted. There was also a fake mustache club...this caught me by surprise because I've wanted to have a  fake mustache party for over a year now - except I don't want to do the same things that these ladies do. Feel free to google it.

So after the parade we made our way down to Olympic Plaza to check out the after parade party and inadvertently ended up IN the parade at one point...but I was just looking for more candy. As we're wandering around we come to a t-shirt booth and I stop, stare and am thoroughly confused at a shirt something like the this (ps - google now thinks I'm a gay man after searching that):

"I *heart* chicken" What? I love chicken but I don't need a shirt advertising it. And what does this have to do with the gays? I don't get it. Wait...chickens...roosters..cock...OMG that's a dirty shirt! I giggled to myself because I'm immature and then laugh at my stupidity. Next year I really think BC needs his own parade float - he could have all of his fag hags with him (he has a harem), Bella (my sister's Chihuahua, not that vampire girl from the stupid movies) could have some sort of a rainbow bed and I'm sure my brother would dress up in drag just for good measure. We need to make this happen people! Oh, BF could drive the truck - there were lots of straight guys driving the trucks/floats because you know that had to be left to either them or the lesbos.

Now, the rest of the weekend was covered by spending time with BF and dog sitting for my neighbor. Turns out, I am NOT a dog person and waking up early on weekends to feed and walk the dog are not my thing. I like to sleep in, make bacon and have naps. I don't like picking up poop, stinky dog breath and dogs who swat my zucchini bread off the counter and eat the whole damn loaf! Dog's mom comes back tonight so my dog sitting days are over.

I'm not sure what's going on this week other than this stupid wedding - some friends of ours are getting married on Saturday and probably divorced on Sunday. This could be a complete gong show so I'll report back if it is, otherwise I'll let you know if I win the divorce pool. They also just decided that it is going to be a toonie bar. Like just decided this week. You can't do that, you have to put that shit on the invitation! I realize $2 is not a big deal, but when you can afford a $40,000 golf membership you can damn well pay for drinks for 60 people at your wedding. Cheap people suck! Out of principal I refuse to spend any money at this shit fiesta so I hope my brother brings a pocket full of toonies to cover me!

I feel like a slurpee. Later skaters!

Pioneers and Rainbows

It's long weekend Friday and I can barely wait until 430pm. Yes, I do work at home and no one would really know whether I cut out early or not, but inevitably if I leave at 4:28 then some panicked client will call at 4:29 and rip me a new asshole. I swear my clients are the only ones who are ever around on long weekends and during Stampede.

So what is everyone doing this weekend? I'm dog sitting for my neighbor so we're staying in town and if the weather is decent (decent meaning not pouring rain and windy) then I want to got to Heritage Park and reminisce about the good ole days of pioneer life - and be thankful I never had to strap a plow to my back and hoe the land. I never would have survived in the olden days - no Starbucks? No feather beds? No M&M's? No doubt I would be the weakest link and be found in a heap of cocoa trying to figure out how to turn into a chocolate bar when I should have been kneading bread or churning butter.

Did I tell you my parents moved back here? I can't remember if I did or not. Anyway, they bought a house in Okotoks and will be living here in the summer and winters in Texas (they have a house there as well). My mother thinks that family dinner once a week is a necessity - I'm not that much into my family and twice a year would suit me fine. So far I've seen them 4 times in 2 weeks - good compromise. Sunday dinner will be at my parents place because as BF puts is "who are we to turn down a free meal when we're poor?". Can't argue that. I'll tell you about my poor ass and my cheap living ways next week. Dide you know you can use 1 ply paper towel as a coffee filter?

My bud spud BC reminded me last night that it is Pride weekend in Calgary and that his people would be taking over the city. I think it was more of a warning to keep BF out of downtown and away from the parade on Sunday. BF is still pretty homophobic (he grew up one of three boys in a small town, what do you expect?) but over the last year he has really lightened up and what started as a tolerance of BC as one of my friends has grown into a genuine friendship with him for which I am thrilled because BC is a very good friend to me, rainbows and all!

Speaking of pride, the very first summer I moved here I spent pride Sunday with a couple of my gaybot friends from Lethbridge who had also moved here and the bar we went to (I want to say Boyztown but I'm really not sure) was a riot! There were drag queens everywhere and this one guy kept hitting on me all night thinking I was one, and no, I was not offended in the least. Those queens put in a lot of prep time and look damn good - all I had was long bleached blond straight hair, real boobs and a sparkle shirt.

Monday is the Labour Day Classic football game which we'll be going to with Tabby. She'll get drunk at yell at me (as usual) and I will try not to get in a fight on the train home. This will be my last football game of the year unless we get an Indian summer - I am not a super fan who bundles up in 20 layers of clothes to watch men in tight pants chase a ball around. I will, however, watch Grey Cup at a bar with lots of  Jager if the Stamps make it that far.

Ok, so that is what I have lined up for the long weekend - hope everyone has a good (and safe) one and I'll let you know how it all ends up.

Scald Warning

I had a conference in Lake Louise last week. Rooms at the Chateau were $350/night and up (for a shoebox and no lake view) so I booked at the Deer Lodge which is a 5 min walk down the road and a fraction of the price. I figured by saving $1000 I was a genius but as per usual I was bitch slapped by reality again.
First of all, let me just say that the service at the Deer Lodge is second to none. All of the staff I encountered where genuinely over the top friendly and could teach the staff at the Chateau a thing or two. So I get to my room, which is about 12x12ft and has 2 twin beds. I knew I was getting a twin bed but when I saw it I knew it was going to be a problem because I like to twist, turn and thrash all night and this bed was not going to cut it. I did consider pushing the two beds together but apparently the one upgrade that this place has ever done it so install permanent box bottoms for the beds.
I go into the bathroom to get my paint and primer set up and notice a sign on the sink that says "Scald Warning: We recommend that when using the shower you do not use the sink or the toilet at the same time". Have I stepped into 1945? And how does one get warm water in the sink when the hot and cold taps are separate? At this point I started to panic because this is getting to be too much like camping. And I hate camping.
Since I had the gala and stuff up at the Chateau I didn't realize how "rustic" this place was, but when I got back to the room and got into bed the trouble really started. First, the water from every room ran through the pipes in my room. Then I could hear some couple arguing about what time to get up in the morning. And then the thump thump thump slam! noises of people walking up and down the halls and slamming their doors shut - on all 3 floors. It's 1230, I get up and try to cover the 2 inch gap at the bottom of the door with my suitcase. This will stop the hallway light from coming in and keep out all noise, right?
Stomp stomp stomp slam! beep beep, beep beep (blackberry message on someone's phone likely 6 or 7 rooms away). I'm tossing and turning in my tiny bed watching the time click by until 615 when the people above me decide it's time to get up and have a clogging competition.
Same thing happens the next night and by day 3 I can barely keep my eyes open because of this place which I have decided must be an over priced hostel. Did I mention there were 2 pianos that guests are welcome to play? And that there were many, many guests that took the opportunity to entertain the masses?
When I got home I reralized the true error my ways - I should have gotten smash faced every night and slept in a canoe.

The River Nazi's

It's hot and sunny out (in theory) and I want to float the Elbow river (not the Bow, I don't have a death wish).  I do not, however, want to have to wear a life jacket in 6 inches of water - a tube barely has enough room for my fat ass as it is, never mind trying to squeeze a life jacket in there too.

I can't help but wonder, where did this silly bylaw come from? I bet it was spearheaded by some over protective mother whose nerdy kid lost his glasses while playing in the water and he was so scared to go home without them that he nearly drowned looking for them.

I just can't wrap my head around how I can go to Texas, rent a tube from one of a million tube shops (they even come with plastic bottoms so you don't scrape your ass along the way!) take my beer and float and drink all day and no one seems to die like they are sure to in the Elbow if they aren't squished into a life jacket at all times. Have you never floated in Texas? Well, here is what it looks like on a summer day on the Guadalupe river:

Look at all of those people not wearing life jackets an not drowning right before our eyes! They even rent separate, smaller tubes specifically for coolers - no shit! And everyone (or at least one in every group) gets a mesh bag to put their garbage in so the river isn't full of floating trash. Genius!

And now here is a summer day on the Elbow:

Yup, I can see how we are all gonna die right there.

Look, I'm not saying it should be a complete free for all, but what about life jackets for 16 and under? Or even 18 and under? Just let the adults make their own decisions - I don't have to wear my life jacket when I'm in a speed boat on a lake, why do I have to wear one on the dribble river? I'm even fine with the no booze on the water - that definitely cuts down on the jackassery and helps to keep it a family activity (although I hate families and wish we could banish parents and their children to outdoor pools where they can scream and piss in the water all they want and I never have to see or hear them).

Until there is some common sense in the future I will skip floating the Elbow unless someone wants to cover the $500 ticket I would get for breaking the rules...floating sponsorship is now open.

Big Balls in Cowtown

So last weekend we (BF and I) went to the Stamps game (for my out of town friends, that is out CFL football team). We sprung for decent tickets on Kijiji which nearly caused a break up (but that's a whole other story) so for once I wasn't going to sit in those brutal bleachers, or worse yet the family section where it's not only alcohol free it's filled with kids who never shut up because a) they are too young to understand what is going on and b) it's way past their bed time but their parents think it is ok because it is summer time.

Anyway, we started at Tipperary's where we grabbed a bite to eat and BF began getting football drunk. Football drunk is way different than hockey drunk (which I will cover sometime during hockey season) mainly because McMahon Stadium doesn't have draft beer, only cans. Bleh. Because of this it was BF's goal to have 5 draft beers before we got there and then 2 at the stadium. He meets his pregame goal and we walked over to McMahon. For those who don't know me, I don't like walking. Ever. I'm a fat girl, and if I could put a moving sidewalk from my couch to the fridge I would (if anyone can make that happen, please let me know!). It's only about 10-15 mins max to walk from the restaurant to the stadium but I bitched the whole way, naturally. And don't worry about BF having to listen to me complain about exercise, he's used to it and just tunes me out - I was fat when we started dating so he knew what he was getting into. Ok, totally got side tracked there...oops! So I've been to a few Stamps games in the past, but I think this is the first time I've ever been sober and there were some things that really took me by surprise. As we got within a few blocks the sidewalks became more crowded with avid face painted cape/flag wearing fans from both teams (The Blue Bombers being the other) and there was excitement about the night to come. This is WAY different from a Flames game where it's usually  3/4 full of corporate drones all trying to impress each other. Also, everyone seems to know everyone - it kind of felt like a church picnic, but with no bingo or potato salad .

We get to our seats and BF hits the beer stand and returns with 2 beers since he's now upped his quota to 1 per quarter...I'm wondering if the lemonade guy will come by for me. As the game goes on, the crowd stays loud (but not obnoxious) and the players are even encouraging the noise. Would that happen in an NFL game? I don't think so. The cheerleader sluts make their rounds (I know I know, they aren't actually sluts, but they are skinnier and prettier than me, so that automatically makes them whores in my book). It's almost half time and BF if going to get his 3rd beer and to get me a lemonade. He's gone about 2.5 minutes and when he comes back he has 2 beers and no lemonade because he "couldn't find the lemonade guy". Oh really? Well I'll tell you where he isn't - at the beer stand! So I get up and who is standing right at the top of the stairs? Mr. Lemonade! Can't find him my ass....

The game goes on, BF's drunk smile gets bigger and I even start to cheer out loud a little bit. In the end the Stamps won and we decide to take the train back (it's only 1 stop) because it is getting a bit dark and we pretty much always think we are going to get robbed for the $12.00 we have. The train platform is packed, as expected, and when the train pulls up everyone pushes to get on. We make it but immediately this chick starts calling me a bitch and going on about how I stepped on her foot (she was wearing flip flops, so I can imagine it hurt. Well, as it happened I didn't step on her foot, we got shoved and someone cut both of us off and stepped on her in the process. She's s going on and on so I snap, and I mean S-N-A-P. I've got lemonade courage and I am not afraid to use it! I tell her exactly what I think of her, call her every name in the book and offered her a kick in the twat to match her her poor little foot. I'm still furious when we get off the train and she happens to get off at that stop as well and actually admits she was wrong, that it wasn't me (I guess one of her friends told her who it actually was) yet she doesn't apologize, she called me a bitch, again. I let another string of unmentionable words go and she decides to walk in the other direction. Why am I sharing this part of the story that makes me look stupid? For exactly that reason - I made myself look like an idiot by stooping to her level and I never should have done that. There is a time to speak up and time to ignore a fat bitch in flip flops and I made a bad choice (even though BF later admitted that he loved how I called her every name in the book right to her face...twice).

So the lesson I learned this week is this - there are assholes in this city and even though I have balls big enough to stand up to them, sometimes I just need to stfu and let it go.