Moot Point

Show of hands:

Who thinks Million Dollar Baby only won because boxing puns make it so much easier to write headlines?

So, Alex is really into fountain pens and he sort of managed to get me hooked. I started out buying disposables. Then, he gave me his old Parker that he never used anymore. I was in love. I used it constantly, for, like, three weeks.

Then, I lost it.
I never lose pens.
I felt terrible.
And, being stuck using shitty ballpoints all week made me realize how much I missed my good pen.
So, I became determined to replace it.

Yesterday we went to Grand & Toy at Eaton Centre, where they had one single red version of the black one I’d wanted. I did pick up a converter though, so that was nice. But the package had obviously been opened and, I reasoned, if they sold it there they’d probably have it at one of the two locations nearer my house, where I could go the next day.

So today, I searched, high and low. Two Grand & Toys, both of which sold the cartridges but apparently not the actual pens.

By this point, I’d wasted enough time that I just walked all the way up to Staples. Where I found, at least, a similar pen. It was thicker, and had “comfort grip,” but it was cheap, and would at least mean I could have a decent pen to use while I sought my beloved Vector.

So, I bought it.
“Do you need a bag?”
“No, I can just keep it in my purse.”

I get home, go to open it so I can try it out and find only the toothpaste I’d bought earlier and my receipt. I even went so as to retrace my steps. All the way up there. And back. Asked at the store where I’d stopped to buy underwear.

Gone. Gone.
I have the worst luck.

My mom came to visit this weekend, which was nice, because we went shopping and did girly stuff and went to Sephora and ordered room service and watched movies. It was a fabulous break, but it’s made it even harder to get back to work.

Oh, and Mom finally met Alex.
I wasn’t really worried, because Mom likes people who make me happy.
Still, I was eager for it to go well.

It went great: we had dinner, he helped her set her new watch for running, they compared opinions re:Law and Order and the like, and the whole thing was very pleasant.

It was time for Alex to head home. I said I’d walk him down to the lobby.

Bren: I’ll be back in a minute.
Mom: Okay, I’m going to get ready for bed.
Bren: [remembering] Oh no! I forgot my pyjamas again. (I stayed in the hotel with her, because she had a double bed and there is no contest when it comes to double beds vs. res beds.)
Alex: The ‘I Love Lucy’ pyjamas?
Bren: Of course.
Alex: They are very fuzzy.
Mom: [confused look; not disapproving or monocle-dropping shocked, but definitely confused]

[Exeunt Bren + Alex.]

For reasons of money and of not wanting to make a big pressure-filled deal of Valentine’s Day, Alex and I decided we’d just stay in and make a nice meal together. It wasn’t really that different from other nights, except that I bought heart-shaped cookies and he got me a rose.

We made this vegetable + couscous recipe, only with roasted vegetables, because I don’t have any way of grilling them.



There were so many vegettables. (They didn’t turn out like in my dreams, but they were pretty good.)

We also made this pork tenderloin.



It was delicious. I know that you wouldn’t think that cloves and cinnamon would go with a roast, but the warm spiciness really complimented the meat without overwhelming it..



I’m displaying the meat. I’m not sure why I had to lean over as if to better frame it. I wish Alex had told me, so I wouldn’t have to look dumb on the internet. (The green stuff on it is cilantro.)



This is exactly what I wanted for Valentine’s Day.



Right down to the cupcakes. (Not pictured: the berry pie with the lattice and tiny pastry heart in the centre.)



The carner of my mouth that you see is me saying “Alex, stop taking pictures of the food and eat it before it gets cold!”



“Seriously! It’s going to get cold!”



Luckily, I’m very forgiving.

Last night, I had a dream that I found a whole bunch of money in my wallet, sandwiched in between receipts.

(By “a whole bunch,” I mean, like, $30.)

I also had a dream where I bought Uggs. In the dream, I bought them because they were on sale really cheap, and they were wine-coloured, which is a colour I quite like.
But, I was explaining, in the dream that I knew they were horrible but I only bought them to keep my feet warm.
In the deam, telling Alex about them was the haredest part of all because Alex hsa been witness to my months and months of Ugg-related bile, because I’m scared to talk about Uggs to other people in case they actually have them and I have just made fun of their boots, which I actually did one time to this one girl, who as it turned out was wearing Uggs at the time. We have bonded over our mutual dislike of Uggs and all things Ugg-related. (Not to mention all the other, more horrible furry boots that have become trendy in the now relatively benign Ugg’s wake.)
Anyway, in my dream the Uggs morphed as I told Alex about them into “Not Uggs exactly,” but these, like horrible lace-up fur-trimmed monstrosities that were far worse than the original basic Ugg.

Unrelated: we saw a man wearing Uggs yesterday.

V-Day recap tk.

I know everyone’s desperately waiting to read my feelings on the latest O.C. (what with the badly acted lesbian kissing, Ryan’s puzzling pool tournament for Lindsay’s heart, Seth’s big Summer-related meltdown, &c) but I cannot write about it without admitting in hypertext that SANDY KISSED A WOMAN WHO ISN’T HIS WIFE. And he abandoned aforementioned wife–ON VALENTINE’S DAY–to do so.
Nothing makes sense anymore.

—-

I know I’m supposed to be all excited because it’s Reading Week and I have somene who won’t abandon me this Valentine’s Day.
But everytime I get excited, I start thinking about those seven papers that I’m supposed to hand in the seven weeks that follow Reading Week (and how I am a big slacker who can’t do anything before the last possible second), plus the whole thing where I have to find a place to live because I hear they don’t let you stay in your beautiful university residence suite after you graduate.

But yes, as you can imagine, I am feeling The Stress.

I got a call from my mom today. Apparently I got an INVOICE from Alberta Health Care, who are supposed care for my health even though I live in a different province, bceuase I am a FULL-TIME STUDENT and I even sent them a letter from my college and certified with a stamp to prove it.This was our correspondance up to this point: Alberta Health and Wellness (as they Orwellianly call themselves) sent me a letter that said, “Hey, can you send us some proof that you’re still a student?” which I lost, but assumed that they would send me some other kind of warning or whatever before they CUT OFF MY MEDICAL COVERAGE. Then they sent me a letter that said “You have no more healthcare!” So my dad called them and said, “Hey, my daughter is a FULL-TIME STUDENT, give her back her medical coverage.” And they said “Okay, we will turn back on her medical coverage.” At which point I sent them aforementioned letter from my college. Anyway, I did send them this letter, but now they’re still INVOICING ME, even though I’m a FULL-TIME STUDENT and as such, don’t really have time to deal with this shit.
However, my dad assures me he will call and make sure that they got the letter and the invoice and the letter just crossed paths. In the mail. Because the mail, it takes time to get places?
Why is it so complicated to get my health cared for while in university in a country with A WORLD-RENOWNED REPUTATION FOR ITS HEALTHCARE SYSTEM?

The Stress has come early this year, and I can’t really see myself dealing with this kind of intensity for the next eight weeks without alienating everyone I know by losing my shit for no good reason and constantly talking about how much work I have to do. Alex has already been proving himself a saintly saint of saintitude for putting up with Crazy McCrazed from Crazytown, for which I have tried to repay him with hot cocoa made the proper way, but I fear that is a poor substitution his normal, less crazed girlfriend. I kind of feel like saying “Hey, universe, you’ve got to be really nice to me for the next eight weeks beause I’m going through a STRESSFUL TIME and I need your entire collective population to be SENSITIVE to that,” but I’m not yet so crazed that I don’t know that people who expect the world to adjust to their rough times and bad moods are narcissists in the bad way (as opposed to the good way, like people who have blogs are).

Actually, I don’t really have it so tough. I just remembered something.
Next time I complain, remind me that I get to school and WATCH MOVIES FOR MY GRADES.

I’m so glad we had this talk.

I am understandably kind of looking forward my first Valentine’s Day of actually having someone that could be called my Valentine, but I’m also a little bit bewildered.

I was never one of those bitter single people who really hated Valentine’s Day because it was invented so the greeting card companies and the makers of chocolate could capitalize on love. I mean, I wasn’t really a bitter single person. (Come to think of it, I’m not really that bitter a person. I can be sad and dejected and even cynical, but I never quite make the jump to full-on bitterness.) I really sort of viewed Valentine’s Day as a non-event. The past few years, I’ve been just home for Reading Week and have spent it with my parents.

Of course, this year will be different. I don’t know, I may have mentioned it a couple of times, I’m not sure, but yeah, I have this boyfriend? So, we, uh, have to spend it together. I’m all for an excuse to be romantic, but I don’t know the protocol at all. As much as my younger self dreamed of heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, I don’t really feel like we need to buy each other gifts, as we’re both kind of cashtrated of late and my love don’t cost a thing. (I did just buy him slippers, that was pretty romantic, right? What? You say they’re from Ikea and cost less than $5? Shut up.) So, the plan is to cook something together, split a bottle of wine, and be even more adorable than usual.

The thing is, despite my recent obsession with food blogs/foodtv/cookbooks, I have no idea what to make. I don’t care how elaborate it is, it is a reading week day off of lovelitude so I have all the time in the world, plus I have all kinds of specialty food shops in my midst, so there’s no ingredient too obscure. I just have no. idea. what to make. What’s romantic food?

(And no, oysters don’t count because EW.)

Okay, I have some very strong feelings regarding this week’s O.C.

For one, I do not like where this whole Sandy-Rebecca story is going. He being a big LIAR WHO LIES and I know from personal experience that when your fellow neglects to tell you that he’s been spending time with his ex, it is not so much because he’s worried about “making you an accessory.” Especially when he leaves out MAJOR DETAILS like hey, honey, so it turns out? Rebecca? My first love? Not so dead at all. I mean, sure nothing has happened, YET. But I hate where this is going. SANDY MUST NOT BE TARNISHED. He is supposed to be charming, newpsie-pissing off, sarcastic, adorable, advice-dispensing dad and loving husband. He is supposed to do Huey Lewis impressions and have eyebrows! That is all. None of this sketchy, lying-to-wife, ex-fiancee-harbouring, tequila-drinking behaviour. (Tequila is always a bad sign!)

Now, this whole Seth-Summer-Zach debacle: Zach is in near danger of being written off. He is a cute young man (who maybe needs a haircut) but all he did this week is interrupt Seth and Summer in awkward situations and say “Hey guys! Guess what? You are going to be placed in situations where the likelihood of your making out is high! I am so insanely secure in my relationship and/or blind that I don’t care if my girlfriend wears a hot costume in her bedroom with her ex-boyfriend! While he draws her! That’s totally non-erotic!” (Aside: I really need some pink fishnets.) That said, Seth and Summer: cute, charming, totally believable attraction. I kind of like Seth again, really sincerely, for the first time since the whole Anna debacle. (Not the part where he dated her, the part where he treated her badly.)

Speaking of believable attraction, when will Alex and Marissa have some of this? I get how the characters are supposed to RELATE TO EACH OTHERS’ EXPERIENCES, but this on paper does not get me to believe that Marissa is SUDDENLY BISEXUAL. (I don’t know, maybe this is how spoiled teenage girls become bisexual? They meet the right person and it’s MAGIC, and all their conceptions of themselves and their sexuality fall out the window in two weeks. Or, you know, sweeps are coming up.) The only reason I am still enjoying this storyline, aside from the hilariously bad acting on both actresses’ parts, is the anticipation of everyone’s reaction when Marissa goes public with this. We have a pretty good idea how Julie will take it (though wouldn’t it be great if she was like, “Marissa, all I care about is that you’re happy”? And then Marissa is stuck in this relationship that her mom isn’t trying her damnedest to break up.) But I’m really more interested in everyone else: How will Summer take it? How will RYAN take it? This could be exciting.

I missed the “Coming Next Week” because I didn’t watch it actually on TV but rather downloaded it and watched it later, but I am informed there is some of Sandy’s nose grazing Rebecca’s nose and THIS CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO HAPPEN! They are breaking Sandy.

So after dim sum yesterday, Alex and I wandered further down Spadina to the Chinatown mall wonderland of cheap cheap DVDs of sketchy legality. I wanted to get Farewell, My Concubine (or, as the front of my copy calls it Farewell To My Concubine–at least it has the right cast list: the Raise the Red Lantern we got has the cast and crew of Silence of the Lambs listed on the back) and Alex wanted to get In the Mood for Love and a couple of other things. We wound up buying nine movies between the two of us. For $35. We will be basking in Contemporary Chinese Cinema (and one Japanese film) for months now.

Then we watched a movie I’d picked up because I’m writing a paper on it. Ironically, it was Chinatown.

Sometimes everything just fits together.

I was planning to write a Rashomon-style post of my weekend to go with Alex’s, but which would leave out that one “reaching into the cupboard” shot because I have that vacant, Tara Reid look on my face, only without the fake boobs and being in the worst movie ever, and which would have been a whole new high in the internet blogging art, but the only quibbles I have are with the misstated origin of my pots and that he left out our Dufflet side-trip to delectability.

But, I wanted to post about it because I love this picture so much.



“What’s this then? Ikea shuttle? Tut tut!” He said I really captured his essence.
Tee.

On a total other note, I signed up for Audioscrobbler last week. I’d think it was neat if they just compiled everything you listened to into weekly and cumulative lists, but then you have your own internet radio station and it points you to the profiles of other people who like the same music as you. You’re supposed to also get recommendations of songs, but it hasn’t yet, but the system’s a mite slow to generate things.
But it’s still pretty sweet.

Speaking of which, in the last three days, I have been listening to Ryan Adams’ Heartbreaker a lot. Until recently, I had a strong aversion to Ryan “not Bryan” Adams based on my first-year roommate playing Gold, which he made after Heartbreaker, repeatedly for, like, two months straight, and Gold having a couple of good songs on it, but really being not that impressive, led to me to sort of equate him with Jon Mayer (who will likely never redeem himself). But he made Heartbreaker with Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, which explains its much greater impressiveness. It’s like the perfect album.