So, um, we went ahead and did Christmas without y'all this year. Sorry; we just got tired of waiting, and, honestly, it's not like we've really talked in the last couple of months, I mean REALLY talked, y'know? So, why put this hypocritical burden on ourselves of pretending that we spent all this time searching for the perfect gifts for each other when really we were just scrambling about in a blind panic and that's why you got a novelty bar of soap for Christmas this year.
So, we're cool, right?
Kidding: I still love you all the same as the day I scraped you off the underside of the table and gave you names and pretended that I had real friends.
Although we DID go ahead and had Christmas last weekend; it's just that we're going away to the magical kingdom of Vancouverland to visit the grandparents this week, so we figgered it'd be easier to give the Little Miss a day of insanity here, as opposed to hauling all of her junk there and back again. Sorry if you didn't get the invite, but it was kind of a family affair, if you consider the guy living in your basement to be family.
(Which we do, because it's Bryn, and, well, Bryn is all kinds of awesome, even if he does walk around in his sweatpants all the time, carrying a knotted pair of jockey shorts in his hands while trying to teach my daughter how to talk like an Ewok. I swear to god, Bryn, the moment she utters the phrase 'Jub-jub' is the moment you find her soiled diapers inside of your pillow case.)
So, yes, Saturday morning we all gathered around our Charlie Brown Christmas Tree and watched while Hazel consumed her own body weight in sugar before stuffing herself into the toy oven that the Ladyfriend had spent all night previous constructing for her so that the Little Miss would have somewhere to put all the toy sushi that she recieved as a Chrsitmas gift, although now that I think about it, sushi's supposed to be raw so why would she need an oven to cook it in and now I should shut up because the Ladyfriend staying up until 2:00 in the goddamned morning building a kitchen out of cardboard for our daughter to play with is also seven shades of awesome and now here is where I breathe.
(whew.)
She also spent the previous two evenings making a fireplace out of construction paper so that we could have somewhere to hang our stockings.
Because I have apparently married Supermom. I am actually agog when I think about how much work the Ladyfriend put in to making Christmas special, not only for our daughter, but for everyone at the house. You rule, Supermom.
(This is not to say that my own mother is not Supermom as well, because she is, seeing as she had to not only raise me but also my brother (who is smelly) and my two sisters (who are not as smelly as they once were but when they were, whoooo boy!) as well as put up with my Dad, who I'm sure is where we all got our smelliness from - but for now, The Ladyfriend gets the title of Supermom, because she rocks harder than Dokken.)
(Who, when you really think about it, don't rock that hard at all, but whatever.)
So this is me saying, sorry if you missed it, but we had fun, and now we're going, and we won't be back until the new year, so stay outta my stuff. I've laid traps, so I'll know, so be good.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Things, or How I Spent The Last Six Months & Stuff
Right now, the Little Miss is distracted, as she is trying to stuff as many Christmas ornaments as possible into as many of her boots as possible, so I have a few moments to say: yes, I've been absent from my role of INTERNET WISDOM DISPENSER for some time now. I apologize. I am a Bad Internetter.
Still, there are reasons.
1. We gots married. Although I think I told y'all that one already. Only now it's offishul as we have Super Power Action Rings that were made out of alien bonedust and strange metals from radioactive meteors, granting us the ability to change our respective shapes into whichever form might best be required for our action-packed peril-fraught lives: "Form of: a diaper! Shape of: a wet wipe! Look out, Naked Baby, here we come!"
Rings are fun.
2. Beano got a facelift. Basically what happened was that we packed all of our cafe into a space that was about four feet by four feet, then served coffee out of it while crackheads dismantled the rest of the cafe with hammers and wheelbarrows and pneumatic drills. This lasted for about three weeks, which caused no small amount of dementia on our part, having to fit into the tiny space and serve people who'd look around and ask where the bathrooms were and why we weren't serving food - and I'm not lying about the crackheads, although they seemed to do more damage to themselves than they did to us. Also the fire department was called out at one point due to a cheesy smell eminating from the storm drain outside, where we may or may not have been dumping all of our excess water and gross milk during the warmest part of the summer. I admit nothing.
3. InFamous: okay, so you're stuck in the downtown core of The City, which has been quarantined by The Government due to some strange 'plague' that the TV's keep talking about, so it's pretty much a no-man's-land of ganags and violence and such, except you've also suffered a weird accident that's granted you the power to channel electricity and shock people and make lightning come out of your hands so you can decide whether or not it's best to save a bunch of people from the evil gangs that control the city or maybe it's best to just electrocute EVERYONE so that you can keep all the emergency supply drops for yourself and it's like being a superhero in Grand Theft Auto.
GAWD, this game is so fun.
4. Batman: Arkham Asylum: okay, basically you get to be Batman, so as cool as InFamous might be, THIS IS A GAME WHERE YOU ACTUALLY GET TO BE BATMAN.
So, y'know, you decide.
5. Fallout 3: Game Of The Year Edition: yes, I know I've already played the original version of this game, which essentially takes about six months for you to choose a name for your character, and really takes your entire lifetime in order for you to finish the storyline. This version, though, has aliens and radioactive hillbillies. I had no choice.
6. We went to Vancouver for about a week and I got to introduce my wife to the giant wall known as The Janzens. Or The Havilands. Or The Janzen/Havilands. Either way: I am probably the shortest of all the Janzen/Haviland males, so you can imagine how intimidating a Thanksgiving dinner with the majority of my uncles and cousins might seem.
To her credit, my wife showed no fear. To their credit, my uncles did not eat her (because, y'know, that's what giants do, right?)
7. Here is the big one: I am actually writing a book.
Not just pithy internet musings, or bitter rants about general assholishness of the world, but an honest-to-goodness, Real Life Novel. Josh Barsky (he of The Straw fame and other such literary affectations) has been standing over me with a lead pipe, beating me senseless every time he sees me without a pen in my hand scribbling furiosly into a notebook, and he's giving me a deadline, which I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be late for (March 1st, 2010), but the fact of the matter is that it's actually happening and I am being a Writer and ohmigod this is equal parts fun and exhausting.
Before any of you ask: it's about earthquakes and superviruses and nuclear war and massive floods, and, yes, it's about zombies, but it's also about trying to open a can of beans without using a can opener. So there. Hopefully this doesn't bomb.
Now I must go and fish tiny glass ornaments out of my daughter's nose, as apparently she feels that they fit better in there than in her boots. God forbid we actually hang them up on a tree or something. Merry something-or-other and a Happy mumble-mumble-mumble.
Still, there are reasons.
1. We gots married. Although I think I told y'all that one already. Only now it's offishul as we have Super Power Action Rings that were made out of alien bonedust and strange metals from radioactive meteors, granting us the ability to change our respective shapes into whichever form might best be required for our action-packed peril-fraught lives: "Form of: a diaper! Shape of: a wet wipe! Look out, Naked Baby, here we come!"
Rings are fun.
2. Beano got a facelift. Basically what happened was that we packed all of our cafe into a space that was about four feet by four feet, then served coffee out of it while crackheads dismantled the rest of the cafe with hammers and wheelbarrows and pneumatic drills. This lasted for about three weeks, which caused no small amount of dementia on our part, having to fit into the tiny space and serve people who'd look around and ask where the bathrooms were and why we weren't serving food - and I'm not lying about the crackheads, although they seemed to do more damage to themselves than they did to us. Also the fire department was called out at one point due to a cheesy smell eminating from the storm drain outside, where we may or may not have been dumping all of our excess water and gross milk during the warmest part of the summer. I admit nothing.
3. InFamous: okay, so you're stuck in the downtown core of The City, which has been quarantined by The Government due to some strange 'plague' that the TV's keep talking about, so it's pretty much a no-man's-land of ganags and violence and such, except you've also suffered a weird accident that's granted you the power to channel electricity and shock people and make lightning come out of your hands so you can decide whether or not it's best to save a bunch of people from the evil gangs that control the city or maybe it's best to just electrocute EVERYONE so that you can keep all the emergency supply drops for yourself and it's like being a superhero in Grand Theft Auto.
GAWD, this game is so fun.
4. Batman: Arkham Asylum: okay, basically you get to be Batman, so as cool as InFamous might be, THIS IS A GAME WHERE YOU ACTUALLY GET TO BE BATMAN.
So, y'know, you decide.
5. Fallout 3: Game Of The Year Edition: yes, I know I've already played the original version of this game, which essentially takes about six months for you to choose a name for your character, and really takes your entire lifetime in order for you to finish the storyline. This version, though, has aliens and radioactive hillbillies. I had no choice.
6. We went to Vancouver for about a week and I got to introduce my wife to the giant wall known as The Janzens. Or The Havilands. Or The Janzen/Havilands. Either way: I am probably the shortest of all the Janzen/Haviland males, so you can imagine how intimidating a Thanksgiving dinner with the majority of my uncles and cousins might seem.
To her credit, my wife showed no fear. To their credit, my uncles did not eat her (because, y'know, that's what giants do, right?)
7. Here is the big one: I am actually writing a book.
Not just pithy internet musings, or bitter rants about general assholishness of the world, but an honest-to-goodness, Real Life Novel. Josh Barsky (he of The Straw fame and other such literary affectations) has been standing over me with a lead pipe, beating me senseless every time he sees me without a pen in my hand scribbling furiosly into a notebook, and he's giving me a deadline, which I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be late for (March 1st, 2010), but the fact of the matter is that it's actually happening and I am being a Writer and ohmigod this is equal parts fun and exhausting.
Before any of you ask: it's about earthquakes and superviruses and nuclear war and massive floods, and, yes, it's about zombies, but it's also about trying to open a can of beans without using a can opener. So there. Hopefully this doesn't bomb.
Now I must go and fish tiny glass ornaments out of my daughter's nose, as apparently she feels that they fit better in there than in her boots. God forbid we actually hang them up on a tree or something. Merry something-or-other and a Happy mumble-mumble-mumble.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Hello again, Internet.
So, it's six in the morning on a friggin' SUNDAY of all things and the Little Miss, who is no longer a baby but is instead now a Toddler because if you saw her walk you'd understand and also shut up Dad I have a personality now and I do what I want, decides that she needs to transfer all of her crayons from the large metal Coca-Cola bucket into the smaller Jungle Book tin which amounts to a whole lot of banging, crashing and frustration, and I start to notice that the colours have ceased to have ordinary names like 'red' or 'blue' and are now refered to as 'tumbleweed' and 'mauvalous' and 'bittersweet' and (I shit you not) 'purple mountain's majesty', and before I can start to rant about how in MY day we only had black and white because THAT'S THE WAY THE WORLD WAS, I see that there's actually one called 'Indian Red', which leads me to ask which 'Indians' are they talking about, because if it's the actual Indians that's okay except that they're probably more brown than red, so are we talking those guys who we used to call Indians, in which case are they allowed to call it Indian Red, which only leads me to believe that it's too early to be thinking about these things but it's never to early for a gin & tonic.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)