Oh Vancouver.
*On a side
note, I have taken to call it Bankybear because that's how it looks in Russian (see last entry). Pretty much learning a second language has messed up my handwriting, pronunciation and spelling. I'll probably go blind in one eye soon.
Today was unusually cold. Though I know last winter came and went with the incessant qualifier, "This has been a really mild winter", holy balls why is it so cold. I'd be walking from my house to the mailbox in a balaclava if I still lived in Calgary but I WAS NOT prepared for today. My hands have that fuzzy shakiness that they get when they warm up after they get so cold you kind of can't bend them. Bummers. My adorable friend Ginny was wearing her winter jacket with fur pom poms today and she looked perfect and wintery. Made me rethink my jersey cardigan and bare head for sure. I have many an under-utilized layer because it has simply been too warm here. There was a moment today where it was warm and my clothing seemed qualified to address the weather. And that lasted for as long as it took for me to walk to the bus stop. Bankybear is similar to Cowtown in that you can never really predict what the weather is going to be like. It never corresponds to the prediction on the weather channe
l but it also never stays insufferable for long. And I am not homeless, I have lots of warm, wonderful clothes and I spend most of my days indoors. So I do not, officially, have anything to complain about.
I had the maddest craving for plum pudding today. So weird because I can never finish my portion the once or twice a year that I actually eat it. That, some mulled cider and an Alistair Simms Ebenezer makes for a perfect Christmas Eve. I have this attitude about the white sauce my dad makes to go with the pudding. The stuff that comes with it in the packaging is just too sweet so Dad always makes a plain bechemel sauce. I know exactly how he makes it. I've seen him make it a million times. And yet I will never try to make it myself. I will always wait for him. Because it's perfect and it's Christmas when he makes it.
I wonder what winters in Scotland are like? It says on the BBC that tomorrow is going to be a high of 8 C and with cloudy periods. Chances are it'll be a lot like here.
I have also decided that I am cutting my hair. This is not motivated out of rage or the numerous bad hair days I have had in the past...six months. But namely because Emma Watson just (and by just I mean about three months ago) cut all her glory of England hair off into the most incredible pixie. That tipped the scale for me. I reminded myself of the promise I made not to cut it until the New Year when Michelle Williams cut hers, when Ginnifer Goodwin cut hers, when Carey Mulligan cut hers and when I met my aforementioned adorable friend Ginny who has the cutest pixie. We all know I'm not a bandwagon jumper but it was truly exhausting resisting these pulls. I tried to remind myself of that meagre hair promise until I saw Emma Watson. And that was it. It's done. And I will finally feel like myself again. I have had someone else's haircut for about a year. I thought I wanted to grow my hair out to 'have more hair to play with'. Well that's all sh%t. Emma Watson's hair is BONKERS. It's a haircut I have had many a time before and one that I adore. I have a small head and fine hair. Probably somewhere in my blueprint it says "should wear hair preferably in a pixie cut or some variation thereof". Can't argue with genetics. So that's the plan. And just in time for it to get COLD. I have scarves (LOTS) and happiness will warm my head.
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