Archive for the 'Steve' Category

Capilano Suspension Bridge!!!

On Saturday, Steve and I made the trek to the Capilano Suspension Bridge!

For those who don’t know what this bridge is all about:

“Follow in the footsteps of the millions of visitors who have crossed Capilano Suspension Bridge since 1889. The original bridge was constructed of hemp rope and cedar planks. 450 feet (137m) long and 230 feet (70m) high, today’s bridge is made of reinforced steel safely anchored in 13 tons of concrete on either side of the canyon. Can you say “I made it!”?”

This bridge is one of those shaky bridges that everyone’s dad pretty much shakes the shit out of when you go on it. It’s like a ciy block long and is just a suspension bridge, which pretty much makes it feel like you are going to go plunging into the canyon below at any minute!

This is the “Treetop Village”. This is made up of several smaller suspension bridges, with little platforms at the trees. It’s pretty much the best thing ever. This is how the ewoks did it, and they did it right.

This tree is called “Grandma Capilano.” She’s the oldest tree in the park, and is 200 feet tall, which translates to “I tried for about ten minutes to get a picture of this whole tree, and pretty much could only get like half of it, but kept trying because I somehow thought I could DEFY GRAVITY and actually capture the whole thing in one shot.”

This is a little creek. It’s still GREEN here, which is like a miracle to me since I’m pretty used to Calgary being a shitty brown by now.

Little pond. Little fishies. LOTS of goof times.


In conclusion, it was a super cool day.

Wait, except for the fact that I said to Steve, “wow, this would be a good place to propose!” and then he’s like, “FUCK, NOW I CAN’T DO IT!” and then I was like, “WHAT?! OH SHIT I’M SORRY!”

(Wait, just to clarify, he wasn’t going to propose that day, but rather was making a mental note of the ample romantic stops along the way at this location, which I subesquently spoiled by mentioning its romanticness…oops!)

I love photoshop.

Yeah, we had a few hits…

You might think Zelda is a quiet puppy…

but she gets pretty mad when Steve plays with Winston for some reason. Like…CRAZY.

The Logic of Steve

So, to set this story up, let me say that we have a “fart jar.” Any time one of us farts anywhere outside of the bathroom, but in the apartment, we have to pay the jar $1. I made this rule up because the apartment is small, and Steve,my, and the dogs’ farts would fill up the apartment so fast we’d all suffocate.

Steve:”Oh man, I’m gonna fart on Winston!”
Lifts leg and sits halfway onto Winston

Me: “Don’t you dare.”
I proceed to throw daggers with my eyes…

Steve, realizing that I will murder him: “Pfft, you know I won’t. That will cost me a DOLLAR!”


“Oh yeah, and it’s mean.”

I only WISH I had the words to say

Oh man you guys. There is some major poopdinglings going on at my work, and I can’t even really explain to you what’s happening, lest I get “found out” again and Dooced or just sued or something. Damnit, it’s killing me not being able to say! Well, in very plain language that is very vague, let’s just say that the place I am employed at is currently in a bit of a “financial turdfest.” Like, we’re struggling.

That, coupled with an accountant who thrives on making me crap myself by showing me how much we SHOULD have compared to how much we DO have, makes me want to pass out.

I plan on talking to the boss, because I think he’d give it to me straight, because seriously, I need to know if I should be looking for another job. Like that’s pretty much where we are at. JEBUS!

On a lighter note though, last night Steve was kind of messing around with Winston and scrappin’ with him on the floor in the living room. I saw Winston’s ass slowly lift to the skies as Steve kind of tickled Winston, only to hear a wee toot escape from Winston’s sphincter as he was on his back, flailing his limbs in delight. I proceeded to almost wet myself from laughter. I wish, I really WISH that dogs knew how funny I thought farts were, and how much I would like to thank not only dogs, but all the animals of the world for expressing their gas in a free and lively manner. I live for things like that, which means that I am a pretty simple person to please.

And finally, I was having another insane discussion that you will all marvel at. I was arguing with Steve about the phrase “shitting your pants.” Furthermore, we can add to that the phrase “shit MY pants.”

Yes, when we were kids (or maybe adults, I am not judging you) we have all pooped ourselves once (at least). I will admit that as a kid, I was so scared to poop (I used to poop monster-sized turds, I don’t know why) that I wouldn’t tell anyone that I had to go, and would thus, “shit my pants.” I’m not talking every day, but I’m sure it happened at least like ten times. Anyhow, I was telling this to Steve and he said that when he says “shit my pants” that the phrase “shit my pants” means actually crapping yourself SO HARD that it gets past your barrier of underwear and goes out into your pants, in whatever fashion of assplosion you can think of. Now when I think of “shitting my pants”, I refer to just pooping in my underwear, but not making it past my underpants. I can say to you that I have never physically pooped myself so badly that it’s made its way onto my pants. That is a pretty wicked accomplishment if you ask me. I think the phrase Steve used was, “crapping your underwear” for the simple act of letting a turd (or whatever) seep past your butthole before you get to a toilet, and then “shitting my pants” as the phrase to use when you poop so hard it basically destroys your underwear and goes into your pants too.
When I think of that, though, I then think of all the other scenarios people would have to use if “shitting my pants” wasn’t referring to many poop follies. I had a good laugh at “shitting my dress”, or “shitting my shorts.”

So I bring this question to the people: when you say “shit my/their/your pants,” do you mean literally pooping your pants, or are you using it more in a descrptive and general way?

And yes, these are the kinds of things I talk about with Steve, and that’s why he’s such a dreamboat to me.

Pre-Wedding Photos

So as I said, here are some photos from my friend’s wedding day. Well, okay, these are photos of me, but as soon as I load the other ones you’ll see them!

I took some time out to give Winston and Zelda lots of kisses:
And then Steve and I did a little photo shoot:

I don’t know what it is with us and making the “Warrick” face from CSI, but I think that we think we look like models when we do. Maybe we’re just not “ambi-posers” for serious photos!

This is what happens when you spend time in Wal-Mart with Steve

Likely Brain Implosion in: 3……..2……1……..bleeehhhh.

Okay, I am having a little anxious freakout, and I thought I’d take you along for the ride.

I am sixty days away from Vancouver! AAAAAH! Crazy. It still doesn’t seem real to me!

So I have a job I guess, and I also got called by this AMAZING Arts Organization , which is located on Granville Island. GORGEOUS. I am thinking maybe that job would pay more, so I have a phone conference interview next week for that. It’s pretty great that people are phoning me despite the fact that I’m in a different city. I didn’t know if that was really going to hold me back or not.

I have a feeling that apartments are going to be a pain in the ass if we don’t get this North Van place. What’s with people hatin’ on dogs?! I mean, my dogs are pretty much like barking, fat cats. Why do apartment landlords like cats more? I mean hell, Winston and Zelda use a LITTER BOX!

I am also headachy because I have to work on a Saturday. Gross. I have to go to this National Conference in Banff, and some of you know how much I love Banff. Anyhow, I have to go see some speakers, and then my boss is forcing our department to go for dinner at some craphouse, woodsy BBQ place, which will make me feel right at home considering I am a vegetarian. Is it wrong of me to want to skip out on the dinner? I don’t even get to put in for overtime on this! I do get my gas money back though, which is radical considering it’ll cost me like $55 for a tank!

I also don’t want to go because I won’t even be working at the same place in three months! What is the point?! I have to go to save face though. Ugh. And wait! I ALSO don’t want to go because I got some interesting information regarding my bosses intentional oversight of the fact that I had connections at a certain large corporation that just gave us a $20,000 grant. I don’t get it, I just don’t get it.

Hopefully no one will even notice me at all and I can feel free to step out at any time. Maybe I’ll just run into the woods and hide from all the middle-aged women at my org. until sundown.

Okay, my head is feeling a little better now.

It’s probably just all the covert stuff I have to do to look for jobs and find apartments that like dogs and figure out how and when we’re moving, and still maintain the same workflow and house-cleaning regime (although that’s been lacking as of late…).

Today was also convocation of my year of graduates, and I had to miss it because my boss gave me a project at last minute. Le sigh. I wasn’t walking the stage (as I pretty much despise the staff at that place), but I was trying to go to see my friends and Steve graduate. I had to miss this huge moment because I have to keep chugging away at my desk and fake that everything is all good and that I am happy to be here and am striving to make sure I do a good job. Blah!

This is why I love him

“Srsly…Like I had a dream that a burger was trying to take a bite outta me.Normally I’d wake up hungry and confused. but today I didn’t.”
-Steve, on having bad dreams

It’s uncanny, really.

I’m a pretty big CSI fan. The original CSI, none of this CSI Miami bullshit. Anyhow, you know Warrick Brown?
On a slow evening Steve and I like to practice our “Warrick Brown Extreme CSI” poses, you know, just in case they ever need a replacement.

July 2020
262728293031 collective fashion consciousness.