Vic Ink

My left shoulder feels very crinkly right now. I am two hours out of the tatt chair, having received a tattoo that has been in the works for hat feels like forever. In a fortuitous layover between home and family for Christmas, Moozh and I both got inked by my fortuitously talented aunt in Victoria. . It has gone through many manifestations over the course of three and a half years. Colors, shape, placement, etc. but there is a rather...sensitive area right around my spine and the color is only half done but it is MAJESTIC.It's an octopus that cruises along just below the crest if my shoulder. Sculpted in tones of maroon, browns and creams with a future balance of aqua and turquoise bubbles and watercolor background. Once it doesn't look like a sunburn with tentacles ( tomorrow) I will post pics. Because it is beautiful (did I say that already?). Watching The Fades, The Trip and Life is Too Short, I mellowed out and cringed through outline and color, put to SHAME by my husband the prior day who had twelve hours of line- and black work done on his Old Man and the Sea tatt. Which I will also post.At the moment I am sitting in the Victoria Airport, contemplating what I am going to get Zara to do next. It's a pure shame it has taken me this long to get inked by her. But to be honest, she's in demand. So shame it may be, it's still reality. If you're looking, check it: Fly the Cage. Vancouver island is not the far away. Also, The Fades. Watch it. SO good. Six eps and you will watch the scene of the last and cry yourself to sleep that you have to wait for season two. Or pray or season two. Be it the adrenaline or sheer vanity, I'm feeling good right now. Sure changed my tune from yesterday hey?BTW: have not had a great experience in the Vic airport having our plane come in on time. More time to blog!

Holidaze

Oh Christmouse. This is what I'm excited for. At least, this is what Pinterest is telling me I'm excited for. 

Eggnog cupcakes off of Annie's Eats

Mulled Wine via Flickr

Eggnog via Cooking for Seven

Stollen via Home for the Holidays

Lemon Curd (we're doin' it again!) via
The Pastry Affair

Christmas Rice Pudding via Manifest Vegan

Snow and sun! via LesaPea Musings

Decorations via Restoration House
(BTW I think my mother-in-law would
LOVE this blog!)

Candles! via Mellow Stuff

Cute (and easy) wrapping via Anthology Mag

But I also LOVE this. Cute burlap/twine
ribbon via Anthropologie

Those who hide too well away...

Ok so.

Recently, my beloved in-laws (and when I say 'beloved' I truly mean 'beyond myself with excitement upon their arrival'), we're out on the west coast for a few days prior to a trip they were taking. We headed out to whistler and basically had a totally bitchin' time. Came back into Van and got to take them around. The weather was flawless, we got to take them around our city and see the, after a long, hectic emotional Fall. We got great pictures which i wanted to post here. Of course by 'recently' I mean THREE WEEKS AGO! What is my problem!? I know I have been avoiding this lovely, comfortable beanbag chair of Internet known as blogdom because I am stressed and so once I have managed to escape the constancy of living in my brain under these circumstances, the last thing I want to do is spew, for your sake as much as mine. Life is in general upheaval lately. Everything from the practicality of working vs school (even when it is only for a time) to the emotional slog of sifting through inter-relational 'issues' has made my psyche (and the consequent outpouring of it) inhospitable and my generosity nearly non-existent. My desire is to pull a NaBloPoMo as I did last year to exercise my own internal accountability for my blog. Because I like it here. And I always feel better once I leave. (Except for the Pinterest post. I was just as pent up after I wrote it as I was before.) I am being emotionally lazy right now because I feel emotionally wasted. That's as self-pitying as I'm going to get on my blog :)

*On a side note I am blogging through a different interface right now which mainly means that I will no longer be able to blame my insufferable grammar and spelling on OS Lion. Using a new interface required I learn how to use it properly and I wasn't interested in that for a few weeks.

I want to summarize some baking successes I have had lately. This is a list for posterity when I'm feeling inept.

• I made a pumpkin loaf pimped out with hazelnuts and dried blueberries.


• Red velvet cupcakes with fudge frosting for Halloween that totally claimed me as red velvet fan. I am, however, not enough of a fan that I feel I need to convert every dessert known into red velvet. I may make red velvet crepes for Moozh on Valentine's.


• I made brown sugar pavlova for small group last weekend that was glorious and actually made me want to run for the camera when I glanced into the bowl after hearing my hand mixer shriek at hi speed for three and a half minutes. But I didn't let it deflate (even for the sake of posterity).

My project leading into December is to create a hydration starter. I am at the tail end of Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain wherein one of his many anecdotes recounts a brilliant baker he worked with on many an occasion had a giant heaving tub of sourdough starter he affectionately called "the bitch". I intend to call her the same. The only thing that makes me hesitant to start a starter is that is IS quite time consuming and requires a fair share of attention, something I do not have plenty of right now. But, as the Wild Yeast blog has convinced me, a good 100% hydration starter is a magical thing to have. And it won't take long to get a hefty return on your investment.

Come Christmas-time, I want to make stollen, reconfigure a cool take on mincemeat, made Mama Dempsey's coffee cake Christmas bread, and make peppermint pots de creme. Here we go.

I'm doing the countdown dance. Five weeks and I'm sporting my whites. Five weeks! Work just hired a new baker who graduated from PICA's pastry program in June. He has been such a great wealth of information leading into school for me. And I am even more pumped for the faculty now that I have first hand accolades from someone who has come through their leadership.

Until then, i'm going to enjoy and be present through what will likely be our last Van christmas. Ooh I totally forgot about Glogg. Making it!!!!
Next entry will be stimulating, I promise :)

Turkey Day!!

It's been too long yet again. Let's post some pics up in here.

Moozh outdid himself once again and with the creative genius of our foodie friend Alan, T-Day became a thing of beauty. We will  be eating it for easily another three weeks and it will eventually feel like less of a thing of beauty but for today's purposes, we are going to look at the beauty.

Glassware is key. We used our tasting glasses from wine and beer class. 

There was a truly absurd amount of cheese in use. I thought it worth documenting. 

Our appies. Notice the cheese. 

This is my 'boule', sliced like a pumpkin, before baking. Cranberry Rosemary Artisan bread. 

And this is it after. 

Roasted Brussies. That is bacon. 

Dressing (by yours truly). Lots of dried fruit to combat the cheese. 

Beer and Pie. A winning combination. 

This is the only picture we have of the pig, which is amazing to me. It truly was impressive.

Duh boys, kickin' it in the kooknaya (kitchen). Red T-shirt was the uniform of choice.

The evening ended happily and after an excessively loud round of Cranium at 1130pm. 

It seriously was a day of so much fun and such great people. My only disappointment is that we didn't get any swinging pictures of our great guests. So much laughter and great stories. Our party was probably 50/50 Yanks to Canucks. They shared with us the Black Friday- Green Bean and Dirt Pudding American version of Thanksgiving. It made us so excited we're going to do it all again at the end of November. But then we'll let some others do the cooking too. You can't have a monopoly on good taste.

Hope you all had a beautiful and tasty Thanksgiving dinner. I realized in the midst of it all I don't really know what Canadian Thanksgiving is all about. I wouldn't be surprised if it had something to do with wanting to do it because the Americans do it but needing to do it a month earlier. I did hear a story somewhere that it had something to do with the King being sick and when he recovered they decided to celebrate the harvest. In Canada it's always about a monarch. Half of us don't even vote properly.
But a day where you are supposed to (even if it is only subconsciously) made to think about what you are thankful for. It made me thankful for my husband, who loves me when I suck'; who 'holds me close at night and thanks God for me'; who goofs around on Saturday and dreams about our future with me. I am thankful for my parents, who are broken and real. I am thankful for my sisters, who are the most beautiful and creative women I have ever know. I am thankful for the awesome guys who love them and hold them close and thank God for them. I'm thankful for my bestie in Cowtown who leads such a beautiful life and always inspires me. I'm thankful for all of the incredible people and friends that God introduced us to in Bankybear. I am thankful for my in-laws because they make me laugh and love me even though I am flaky. And I am thankful for those who love them. I am thankful for carbs and for jersey knit sheets. I am thankful a body that constantly impresses me and feet that run like the wind. I am thankful for the freedom of speech and the chance to have all my needs met in one day. I am thankful that I know God and that my life is His. I am thankful that he has planned for me beyond what I can hope or imagine (Eph 3:20 NIV). There are many things unmentioned here which I am thankful for as well, and so much for because they are still there even when I forget them. Like running water. And Skype.

Three cheers (and leg kicks) for chunky scarves and soup weather! In Bankybear the weather has been so Fall it had made me smile. What are you thankful for? 

"Sometimes you ask yourself…should I have tattooed my forehead?"

I don't know if any of you do this too but one of Moozh and I's favourite things to do is cuddle in bed at night and watch movie trailers. In most cases, it exonerates me from feeling like I have to see the movie because often the trailer is better than the movie. But sometimes I'm surprised. I just had one of those moments.

I just watched the trailer for The Other F-Word. Immediately it made me think of my sister who just got married because her journey into parenthood is likely going to be turbulent and beautiful and she and her husband are going to be those parents on the playground that none of the other parents understand. My sister is an ass kicker and she and her husband have a unique and dynamic view of life. Which means they are also going to be those parents on the playground that all the other parents wish they were as cool as. As I watched the trailer, which I suggest that all of you do, I had a serious moment of realization. A realization that what the Lord has prepared for our lives will drastically surprise and change us. Life is meant to teach us and through the process of giving your life to various things (marriage, parenthood, career) you become better, you become more. Inherently parenthood teaches wisdom, grace, patience, selflessness because those are the things that are required when you are responsible for a small, dependant being. The movie profiles all of these punk rock icons, from Mark Hoppus of Blink-182, Flea from Red Hot Chili Peppers and Tony Hawk, through their processing of their fatherhood; from "the ultimate anti-authoritarians become societies ultimate authorities".

I had coffee today with a lovely good friend who is due in December. She had moved through the various baby showers, through buying a stroller and putting a car seat in her car. But the part of our conversation that had me thinking all day long, was when she spoke of becoming pregnancy, of moving through pregnancy and thinking through the permanence of having a child, and how it drastically changes how you think about your own development. You don't think about your family of origin, about conflict, about your marriage in at all the same way anymore. You have to filter it through the lens of this person who is brand new and strange to the world. Even in marriage you can remain in certain levels of selfishness (though it is hard) but in parenthood you can't. The paradigm can't survive beneath that. Yes we all know people who are selfish and act for themselves. But I don't find I ever look to those people and validate their parenting, or think of them as parents at all. Parenthood seems to be a specially designed racetrack that manages to drastically change the way we think about our world, ourselves, our life.  Because we have what feels like many friends right now that are expecting, I find myself musing often on how not ready I am for that commitment. I also think about little people running around my house one day with Moozh's mannerisms and looks of his fitted into the puzzle of their faces but I realize that there is a desire of preparation for that. The independence I struggle so hard to reconcile. My introspection. My sleep schedule. These are not things very accommodating to children. At the end of the day, Moozh can put himself to bed, he can feed himself and occupy himself while I put on makeup and surf pinterest.

But what this movie helped me to see (and did it in such a breathtaking way) is that parenthood changes people in spite of themselves. It helps to wear away at your selfishness and your personal gain slowly and discreetly. Flea has this amazing quote in it. "My children gave me life, you know. They gave me a reason." Friggin' Flea! But what I also like about the film is that it displays that the parents in it didn't just blend and bleed into this banal, khaki parent figure. They still have passions, opinions, things that set them apart. Their children will grow up understanding that their parents' life goes beyond their children.

I also find it infinitely quotable:
"Maybe punk rock was never meant to grow up. But it did."
"There's nothing in the punk rock ethos that prepares you for children."
"Maybe the way we're going to change the world is by raising better kids."

I think parenthood will also, as much as we may not want it to, help us to understand our parents even better. Undoubtedly, we will see and maybe even understand why they made certain decisions and why they thought certain things were right. Ultimately though, it will unify generations of people that have all made the same discoveries and thought the same things through the journey through becoming at times what you've despised. It's a good journey.

"Watched it pour as I touched your face…"

One of the most bizarre details about college life is that wherever you go, at whatever time, which whoever in attendance it will always smell like a combination of popcorn butter and pizza grease with a hint of dirty socks.

I am better. I am so much better than I actually went running in the rain this morning. I KNOW! I was not only up and running but I was in the rain at 730. And that's a.m folks. I know you're going to say, "Girl, (because you're Mary J. Blige, obviously), you just got better. Why are you running in 'I would love to get sick' weather?"But my Arc'teryx jacket, after long being ignored since I got a pretty umbrella that makes me feel like an extra from My Fair Lady, performed like only Arc'teryx can. I was the only one out and it was so calm and quiet. It was beautiful and so worth it. And on top of that, I was on time for my class. Boom.

I had a dream while I was sick that I had a beard. And I was all verklempt, in my dream, because I am usually so tidy and…maintained. And then Matt told me it was alright and I looked great. And then Beej and Megs came over and I noticed that they had beards too! So everything was fine. And then I woke up and realized that it was not fine. And that is officially Moozh's favourite story to tell about me now. That and when I yelled at him about cutlery in my sleep. Being sick is SO DANGEROUS.

Happy Ash Wednesday, btw. And Mardi Gras is also coming up. Got to celebrate! Except no.
Did you know that the ashes that are crossed on the foreheads on Ash Wednesday are from the burned palms from Palm Sunday the previous year. I did not know that. And Wikipedia could be lying to me but that would be so unlike it. **Like how I regarded 'foreheads' as if they are an independent thing. That is called personification. Or crazy talk.

So, as I mentioned, I am fasting from Alcohol with a capital "A" for Lent. Both Moozh and I. Which I will last longer than he will fer sure. The man just loves him some scotch. But I also love to drink gin and tonic by intravenous and be silly. Especially while I'm watching 30 Rock. And 30 Rock is tomorrow.

Right in time for Lent, I found this fabulous new site. (Fabulous. What a hilarious word.) I found it on Bloglovin' and The Kitchn within a day of each other too which means it's a big deal. It's called SaladPride (no rainbows, however) and it is pretty much what it says it is: Just a gallery of pretty, yummy, pretty yummy salads. I love salad (Otherwise my lifestyle choice would be a little dumb. Can't live on potato chips, at least I wouldn't advise it.) but I find it hard to come up with new salads. And if Moozh is going to eat salad, it has to blow his friggin' doors off. But this site has those kind of salads! Go there! She puts potatoes on salad. And couscous!

Happy fasting!

P.S ~ I already have a "Lent" tag in my labels from when I wrote about it last year which was probably something self righteous and silly. Fasting from negativity, psssh. Now I have REAL things to fast from :)

"Can you help me I'm bent, so scared that I'll never get put back together."

Twenty-two of them!

It is February 4 and things are already growing!

My recent love affair 

Mah fav'rite drank. 

Mah fleurs between Hildegaard and Sveggie the Love Cactus

Song for our Fathers

Sigh.

I was going to take pictures. I was going to go OUTSIDE.

Now, let me put a disclaimer on this. I am not a weenie. Correction: I am not a weenie when it comes to weather. Growing up in Cowtown, I bought my clothes with the proviso that I would be standing at bus stops, jumping through snow banks, peeling off layers when Chinooks hit, etc. But here...here is different. It's sleet and it's flying sideways (diagonal?). It doesn'

t matter if you have a hood. It doesn't matter if you have an umbrella. It doesn't matter if you have anything other than a balaclava and even then your mascara would still run. And then stick together and freeze like that. Oy vey.

So no pictures today. I handle the camera like a newborn and I have severe...clumsiness. A sunny day, or at the very least an overcast one, will saunter about and I will have some fun. So THERE, Bankybear! Until then, it'll be all interiors.

This is a picture from Simply Stardust, a blog I found off of Bloglovin'. (I really shouldn't do this. More blogs and more blogs. It is like memorizing trivia you will never have the opportunity to utilize. It's SO SAD. I do that also.) I think I realize that what I love so much

about food blogs are the photographs. So I don't love food blogs. I love photography blogs. Well good. Problem not solved.

I love when people capture something that is so everyday and invisible but capture it in a way that makes you want to seek those things out. It's a reminder to do that every day in everything.

Январь

There wasn't a single cheese ball.

Thank goodness because I mean really, I look a WHOLE lot different now. And by "whole" I mean myself, blithely contented, plus a good some. I feel frickin' awesome (I also feel freakin' bloated) and Chrimbo was uh-mazing but there was pretty much nothing that went unsampled. It was like in Friends, "Trifle, good. Peas, good. Beef, good." And then I return to my unsavory and aggressive online addiction and I realize there WASN'T A FREAKIN' CHEESE BALL. Or three. Like I said. Thank goodness.

I have our Nikon D90 manual on my lap presently, rather under Percy Shelley (my laptop), and we are going to figure out how to pimp out our communication. I'm sure (or at least I hope) there will be moments to come that contradict what I said in my last post about what my blog is not. Who knows? New moments of "I totally didn't need to see the pattern on your shirt THAT up close" and "you fog up the lens every time you hold it over a hot skillet, you donkey". It's on folks. It's on. But certainly to come are photos of Casa del Dempsey, and the beautiful city we live in, Bankybear.

My lovely sissy in law got engaged last night! Doot-doodle-loot! Moozh and I were bummed we couldn't be there to toast and proclaim joy with them but this year is the Year of Dempsey-Bauer. Matzel Tov! Pazdravlenya! Yeehaw! Having a loved one planning a wedding rather enables wedding voyeurism that afflicts many a person (myself whole heartedly included). I wasn't the type that put a whole lot of "pre-thought" into weddings, including mine, considering that my opinion on marriage was rather negative and antagonistic until I was decidedly swept off my feet by my beloved Moozh Cimpatichni. But since, ho boy, have I acquired an obsession. Can I hear an "amen" from my Shuma? (My obsessive personality is genetic. It really cannot be helped.) But weddinggawker, Offbeat Bride, and Our Labour of Love (which is probably one of my favourite photography blogs) play upon a weakness I cannot resist. Hmm.

And finally, it being January one, I am officially in creative writing game mode (in other words weenie, self-neglectful, myopic, procrastination mode). A friend of mine is on the committee for the literary journal (which is taking submissions), I have my manuscript due in March and I have narrowed down plots for my first novel down to two. Completely unrelated, I've also decided that I'm going to find a good recipe and process for homemade bagels. I hear you'll sell your first born for them.

2010 you were good to me (and us). We moved for the second time in our first year of marriage, were romanced by a city of heritage and intrinsic ecological beauty, and drew our first line in the sand as a couple. This year brought friends in and out, stoked our faith into boldness and richness, magnified our voices and widened our horizons. Spasiba Abba, for giving me my greatest gift and setting our hearts on fire.

Here's to 2011!

Nobody can showboat "Silent Night" like Mahalia Jackson

Things that make me happy about being almost done school.

- I can knit something fun for the very first time and put it on the knit blog. I kind of want to crochet Matt's christmas ornament this year. Maybe make it from some polymer clay. Last year: I wrapped a little wooden heart that said "I Love You" with yarn. This year? Oh my gosh.

- I think I will add crafting in general. I'm sewing some Christmas presents this year. I am excited because I'm pretty sure the recipients will LOVE them.

- I can open up my "Musings" file and write fun things again. This semester's creative writing marks left me feelings very low. I want to return to it with a new heart and remind myself why I love it.

- I can make myself something other than apples and peanut butter for lunch. I don't know how, in sixteen weeks of classes, I couldn't get my act together and make myself something the night before. I'm on the "stress diet" right now which means I don't eat. I am myopic to say the least and so I can literally make it eight hours, whilst fretting over SOMETHING MONUMENTAL, without giving a thought to my groaning stomach.

- Running! My feet are so sore lately, I can't figure out why. But as of tomorrow, we're back on the train.

- Hot Chocolate! If I'm running everyday I don't have to feel guilty about drinking a cup everyday right? With or without peppermint schnapps. Mmmmms.

I don't know what made me think of this but I think one of my top five favourite love songs ever is "When You Come Back Down" by Nickel Creek.

"My greatest fear will be that you will crash and burn
And I won't feel your fire." Beaut.

"Me, I want a hoooola-hooop!"

O....kay.

I am running to the theme from 'Chariots of Fire' right now. Friday is but a couple sleeps, being in public with bedhead and at least one more meltdown away. So close I could hit it in a burping contest. My teachers have done dangerous things like extending deadlines and making classes optional. A week from today I'll be squinting over somebody asking me who in my family usually washes the dishes. In RUSSIAN. The next day, I will be talking about which Classical Athenian tyrant said compassion is a weakness. And then finally, the very next day, when I forget that my socks don't go on the outside of my shoes and that I have to peel the orange first, I will write a research proposal and orchestrate secondary sources in an hour. Or at least I'm told I will. But by five o'clock this next Thursday, I will usher in a long awaited stint in which I never get out of my pajamas. I will sing "Christmas Don't be Late" in a style authentic to Alvin and the Chipmunks and surf The Phillip DeFranco Show until I fall asleep in a chair.

But UNTIL then! I've noticed I get really exaggerative when I get tired of something. But that's okay because that will make me a writer capable of capitalizing on my unemployment. Zing!

If you could work for anyone in your field, who would it be?

I would pretty much die if I ever met Margaret Atwood so she's probably a bad choice. I thought maybe Audrey Niffenegger but I think I'm liking her stuff less and less as I read it. I would have to say Anita Diamant because she has transformed the way I write. The Red Tent, favourite book ever. Day after Night probably second favourite book ever. (Did I mention I exaggerate?) Her books made me read through Genesis again and become morbidly obsessed with reading books concerning the Holocaust. She is die-worthy as well so I would have to get myself under control first but I would sit in awe of her Jewishness probably perpetually. Then I would tell her I didn't really like Good Harbour.

Christmouse!

Casa del Dempsey has that Christmas feeling now. The garlands and boughs of holly went up last night. The first gift I ever bought Matt was a set of two HUGE Christmas baubles when I worked at Ikea. They are easily three times the size of any other decorations on our tree but our place looks so sweet now.

We finished all of our Christmas shopping this which illustrates an impressive amount of forethought on our part. It turned COLD this weekend. Dumped a huge load Friday night which made everything look magical and made every driver on the road lose their mind. That also turned out to be the day that we were helping Scott and Jo move into their new place. Fun times.

I love this commercial. I remember seeing it on when I was maybe in Junior High. Stevie Wonder and India Arie make for beautiful Christmas music. But when you watch that clip wait until the third part of the commercial. The cutest little black girl does a hilarious dance in red velvet and a white dude has his Christmas mantle timed just perfect. It is so cute you'll want to die. Love it.

One of my favourite Christmas movies is easily White Christmas. They just needed an excuse for a whole bunch of musical numbers unrelated to a plot line. They had "White Christmas" and "Count Your Blessings" kickin' around and the rest is history. Vera Ellen's legs will make you faint but my favourite scene is the one below. Reminds of my Dad when he's relaxed. The goofiness, I mean, not the cross dressing. Though he does like that too.

What's your favourite Christmas movie? Are you going to shoot your eye out? Or are you kickin' it with Oogie Boogie?

Happy Christmahannakwanzadan!

You know what sounds really good right now? Sleep.

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.

"I eat bread all day long. My anxiety, it's like a workout."

Today I will be doing no such prompt. Because it was lame. This is my blogger discretion.

Outside my window... ванкувер (Vancouver). Winter here is so different. Today had that chill that winter has.
I am thinking... about handmade Christmas presents.
I am thankful for... my warm bed and the best snuggle buddy who hangs out there with me.
From the learning rooms...(if this applies) Tomorrow I have two tests and an essay due. But I only have two weeks left. I can make it. I can.From the kitchen... pumpkin chai tea from David's Tea up the road.
I am wearing... polka dot pjs and warm knitted socks.
I am creating... my creative writing portfolio
I am going... on a search for Yankee candles. $25 is a lot for a candle but it's sooooo worth it.
I am reading... Out Town by Thorton Wilder and Kitler: 55 Fictions by John Gould
I am hoping... for Christmas music and rice pudding this weekend.
I am hearing... "I need a dollar" by Aloe Blacc. One of those free itunes downloads from S'bucks. So awesome.
Around the house... I bought myself some 8 oz mason jars. Simple minds, simple pleasures.
One of my favorite things... chai eggnogs. I have to ration these bigtime but I they are Christmas decadence in a jar. Mmm.
A few plans for the rest of the week: Get through tomorrow. Have dinner at lovely Marcus and Meghan's house on Friday. I think we'll put up our decorations on the weekend.

Here is picture for thought I am sharing...two!

This time last year. Moozh and I in Victoria. It's our tourist picture.

Lacey and I at ZooLights. We got hot chocolate and I sat on a iron statue of a lion and pretty much frostbit my butt. And look at my nose!

When the rain starts fallin', gonna drown before we get our feet wet.

What do you like most about cold weather? What do you like the least?

Oh November...YOU'RE MAKING ME CRAZY! I only have in some cases as few as three classes left this semester. How did this happen? How...am I ever going to get everything done?

But I will, you know that? The last day of classes will come and go. I will finish my exams. Moozh and I will go to Cowtown and come home and it will be New Years. And then we do it all over again. I just don't remember getting November. Not that I have to be consciously there for that but I feel I should at least be aware.

So I suppose that is one of the things I like least about cold weather. It usually means shit gets real. I live with a Theology Grad student which puts things in perspective for me. I can whine (it is always so very temporary) about all the papers I have to write but Matt's papers are like the Magna Carta and he has to write them what seems like all the time.

But that's pretty much it! In Vancouver (and Vic) cold weather means my feet are always wet because I don't wear galoshes. I am somewhat too obsessed with silly footwear. But I wear hats. And lots of scarves. In Cowtown, cold weather you had chapped everything and couldn't go outside without resigning yourself to frostbite upon exposure. And potholes.

But cold weather means comfy socks, turning of the leaves, hot apple cider and comfort

food.

Freakin' Yum.

We were talking a couple of weeks ago about how it instantly (unfortunately) feels Christmassy when Starbucks brings out their red cups. Two days after Halloween, there they were, blazing red with mittens all over them. Out comes the eggnog and the peppermint sprinkles. I appreciate it all. Just all in good time. If I acknowledge the Christmas paraphernalia, I also have to acknowledge that I am going to be tested really soon on the things I haven't totally been paying attention to. Hmm.

Cold weather also means Christmas decorations and rice pudding and Christmas music. Plaid and no school. Watching a Christmas story and White Christmas (I'm pretty sure I can win at who can put 'Christmas' in their post the most). And for once during the year no one looks at my copious scarves and makes fun of me behind my back. All good.

Listen to this. It will make you happy. Be standing up because it's easier to dance that way.

And then listen to this. See above.