goes without saying

There are a lot of crappy things we put up with up here, including those mentioned above in this comic I found (well except for the pirates - there are pirates up here, but I like most of them). But the great things up here.... do they ever make up for the crappy things.

Like standing outside of a bar staring at a horse tethered to the liquor store for half an hour with your friends and giggling like idiots when the horse gets a boner (it's like we willed it to happen).
Like getting a chili dog at three in the morning and getting to tell hippies they don't know shit about that dog Chewy, and get away from him, and don't feed him garbage.
Like blue sky one minute then thunderstorm the next then blue sky ten minutes later.
Like walking down the street in a grumpy mood and having three different people ask how you're doing.
Like getting your medium cold soy latte the second you order it because they saw you walk in five minutes ago.
Like getting a drink on the house because you have no cash on you and the bartender's a good friend.
Like having your friends stop by in the afternoon to pick up the sunglasses they left in your purse last night and remind you to sew the buttons back on the shirt you ripped off of them because you thought it was a snap-up shirt. (I owe Aaron Burnie a new shirt.)
Like pretending to be a runway model in your backyard with the guys that followed you home to drink beer at five in the morning because it seemed like a fun idea - it was a fun idea.
Like not being judged the next day on your "performance" last night because it can't be worse than Dylan's performance on Tuesday, and we all forgave him.

This is why I live here.

where'd you get that sunburn?

I got asked that a lot at work tonight. It's my own fault - I know better. Damn this porcelain skin. Okay - starting tomorrow - sunscreen is becoming a part of my daily routine... stupid sun. And in my defense, it wasn't even all that sunny for most of my time outside - those pesky clouds did something. Always meddling.

In a way, this here burn worked in my favour - I had a reason to be in a bad mood at work tonight, and had a lot of fun getting people to feel how "hot" I was.

Side note: it's amazing that tips are just as good if not better when you give shitty service and are in a shitty mood.

Okay, new business. Either some one I don't know got a hold of this here blog, or one of you assholes (I can't believe you would do this to me) is playing a trick on me. There was a comment posted about the scarf I "stole". For the record, indoor scarves are stupid (and I stand by that), but i didn't steal anything. I found an indoor scarf at the end of the night, at the pit, soaked in beer and took it. It is not a silver smoking lily scarf, no chance. definitely not that classy - i would find the owner of a classy scarf - i'm not a complete asshole. And thank you (whoever you are) for making an already paranoid person give up her hopes of any good-spirited scarf-stealing fun this summer. Thank you.

who loves golf?

Apparently I do. Tuesday might have been the best day ever - or at least so far this summer. Woke up to find that most of the aphids were gone, but bought insecticide and sprayed the crap out of everything just in case.

[Update: those tricky aphids are still kickin' it old school, but only on a few plants - those guys are quarantined in the greenhouse.]

[Also: I caught Himilaya drinking water from the tray that the pesticide plants were sitting in. Should I be worried? Stupid cat.]

Once that job was done, I met up with Dylan, Janice, and Tammi to go golfing across river. From the second I got in the car, I knew this would be a fun afternoon. Sure enough, my expectations were well exceeded. Turns out, I'm a slightly better golfer than I thought (very slightly). Also turns out that drinking and driving is totally acceptable when golfing. Golf carts are very fun, and Dylan and I had a sweet ride named "SKOOKUM" - for anyone planning on renting a golf cart anytime soon, the Skookum cart is FAST. Fast enough to do this:




It takes some speed to make a golf cart skid to a stop. Ha ha ha. We did that about twelve times to get the video. I didn't mind.

After golf, I made it back to town to go on a dinner date with Wendy at the Aurora. We primarily went because Caroline (the owner of the Aurora) invited us for a free dinner to check out the new menu. Wow, was it great. I started off with a glass of lovely red french wine (I forget the name) which I probably didn't need since I was half in the bag from golfing. First course - Danish Blue Cheese, Beet, Blanched Asparagus and Greens with Beet Vinaigrette Salad. Delicious. Main course - (are you ready for this?) Veal with a Mushroom Reduction Sauce on top of Lyonnaise Potatoes with Grilled Vegetables. Holy, I love baby cow. I know it's kind of faux pas what with the small cages and being force-fed milk and horrible lives for baby cows and all, but I don't care. As far as I'm concerned make those cages smaller and feed 'em more milk. Best veal I've ever had. Dessert: Banana Spring Rolls with Bourbon Sauce and Fresh Berries. Just amazing. Go there, seriously. It's a little expensive, but not as expensive as you might think - Wendy and worked out that our meal (she had veggie options of comparable deliciousness) and wine probably cost about a hundred bucks. I just wish the decor was better. I mean the food is so good, the service is great, the wine list phenomenal, but you feel like your sitting in an old folks home or something. Rattan furniture and floral curtains have no place in a fine dining situation.

Dinner done, I headed back to Peggy's to see if I was in time to meet up with Dylan, Jenna, and Jonathan to go for a boat ride. They'd already left, so I ran to the dike to see if they'd hit the water yet. Sure enough, they were approaching my area, but on the other side of the river. I started waving my arms and screaming at them (the tourists standing nearby had no idea what was going on). They didn't see me - but, boy, if they had have driven over to let me hop in, I would have looked so cool....

A good day all-in-all.

I'm currently compiling a list of best things overheard from American tourists while working behind the bar. Molly gave me these gems yesterday:

"Iran is like another middle east or something - like Palestine and stuff."
"They knew 9-11 was going to happen, they knew", chorus of agreement follows.

I often wonder what Canadians seem like to other people in other countries.

ahhhhhh! aphid infestation.

I spent several hours raking, weeding, manuring, top soiling my raised beds and pots today to sadly discover that there are about 12million aphids all over all of the pepper plants and tomato plants. Arg. What do I do? What do I do? I am very upset about this development, and on top of this distressing news, a huge popped and full-of-dirt blister for all of my efforts. Stupid aphids. Do I even plant these things? Arg. Janice told me to look aphids up online, so I did. Insecticidal soap? Where do I get that? And at this hour it's too late. What if the plants don't make it until tomorrow, what if it's already too late? I spent so much money and time on these stupid plants.

At least the infestation hasn't reached all of the herbs I bought.

Oh well. I did get to spend a lovely day in the yard. Got a bit of sun. Felt very productive.

Aphids - who knew the tiniest little bug could ruin a perfectly good day. Obviously, I can't let it go. Maybe I'll figure something out tomorrow.

i love big cats

My friend Bluey pointed out to me the other night that in 20 days, we start losing light again. And it's true. Just when we all start getting into summer - poof! - the damn season is already on it's way out.

Yesterday - best day ever. Mostly due to the fact that i received the best present ever. Not only was it a surprise present, it's one of those things you can never justify buying for yourself because it's useless and expensive (as i write this, I realize that I have a lot of friends who could completely justify buying something useless and expensive for themselves). Behold, the new addition to my family... cheetah.That Tammi sure knows me to a tea. It may not look like it from this picture, but man was I giddy about my new life-sized cat yesterday. I decided to sit him up in the bar all night and host a naming contest for our patrons. The winning name: Biggles. Runners up: Power Prowler 2000, Sickle Cell Anemia (the silent killer), Morcheetah, Mrs. Buns, and Orangina. Fun night.

The Gold Diggers played at Peggy's to a very appreciative and large audience. They pulled out an acoustic barber shop quartet style Sloop John B which, I for one, enjoyed immensely. The Sour Dough Joe's burger I had for lunch to get over today's hangover (best hangover burger in town, bar none) was all I ate all day, so inevitably, it was much easier to get drunk quickly last night in the half an hour between when we got out of our bar and when the Pit closed, which ultimately led to today's state of affairs. Not that I want this blog to be only about my drinking habits and hangover cures.... today's cure was a pulled pork sandwich and an orange. I'm glad that the weekend is almost over - give the ol' liver a break for a few days. Just have to get through Soul Sunday tonight and a dinner date then going away party tomorrow, and then, I swear, no going out 'til... Friday(?). Another highlight from last night (or any night that it happens) - hiding in the guys bathroom at the pit with Dylan (inevitably pretending to puke so as to not seem suspicious) at the end of the night listening to drunk gibbering and pissing. Ha. What a charmed life I lead. Oooo, oooo, I also stole my first "indoor" hipster scarf - you know those scarves that don't keep you warm, that are big and drapey. It's my plan to make off with as many of those indoor scarves this summer as I can. I'm making a stand against stupid fashion trends. To be honest, I didn't actually steal it from off of somebody, I just found it at the end of the night and took it..... One down....

Tomorrow the plan is to put in my garden. I think (hope) we're past any frost at night, and I'm tired of the twice-daily waterings the bedding plants need. Two days off, here I come.

Best quote of the night:

"You're not a loser, no matter what." Thanks Sean.

amateur night

It's 9:00am on Saturday. I went to bed at around 4:15am. Although this hangover probably warrants three advil, I've taken two. It is so bright outside.

Technically this is yesterday's post (which I started writing yesterday before i made a series of decisions which led me to this particular... situation - headache included). My intentions for my evening last night included a painless afternoon shift at Peggy's, a quick stop by at Catherine's clothing launch, a leisurely daiquiri and some reasonably priced appies at the Keno Lounge, then home to watch the Princess and the Warrior followed by an early bedtime and good night's sleep. And it was going well up until..... hm. No actually, nothing went according to plans, and it easy to see how, for all of my good intentions, I am sitting here, on my couch like a bag of crap, trying not to wince every time i look outside.

I've had the pleasure of working the Friday afternoon shift at Peggy's for the last two years. It's always super busy, usually packed with locals, and definitely one of the most lucrative shifts at the ol' whore house. Usually, although they're tough, I enjoy myself a lot. Oh wait - what I meant to say just then was: usually, although they're tough, i try to enjoy myself. I mean, the ingredients are all there for a superfun, short shift - Wendy helps out in the bar, pint's are on special, pizza's sold by the slice..... every Friday I walk into that place thinking this Friday will be different, I will be the best damn bartender today, I won't panic or lose my temper, I will be patient, I will have a good time. And they always start good. By 7:30pm, however, I'm usually hoping to god for a cyanide pill to eat, or, at the very least for someone to walk in and shoot me in the foot so i can flee. What is it that turns the best job in the world into the reason to go out and drink away the pain? Easy. The Friday happy hour crowd. Friday is the night where everybody who doesn't drink usually comes out to celebrate their 9-5 existence. They're out to have a great old time, but they have no idea how to be in a bar. Despite the fact that they come to Peggy's at between 5pm and 6pm every week, these are the people who:

• snap their fingers, whistle at you while you're passing (if they know your name sometimes they'll just shout), or wave an empty or close-to-empty glass at you from across the room.
• look very impatient and unimpressed at the wait-time then have no f-ing idea what they want to order when you get there.
• expect superior service and chit-chat because it's their one special night out and of course it should be the bartender's job to be the sole source of their entertainment.
• say things like "do you have anything fruity, but not too fruity?", or "maybe a summer-type beer, but not corona - what do you think?", and "I'll have a ceasar, or, actually no. I'll have a cosmo. No. I'll have a glass of white wine - what do you have again?.... oh. No, I'll have a caesar."
• never have their money out when you come back with drinks.
• bitch at the fact that we need to take a credit card or debit card to run a tab.
• ask what kind of pizza we have when we always (I mean always) have the same two kinds.
• despite having used interact machines all over the world, can't figure out how to put a bloody tip on their total.
• don't know how to tip, or just don't (there are generous people too).
• get wasted off of three glasses of shiraz and get stained teeth and lips and blather on about how they always liked me as a person, and boy I must keep busy.
• should get wasted off of four martinis but don't - they just get louder and louder and louder.
• run our city, teach our children, fix our cars, and keep tourism running smoothly, but forget what appropriate public behavior is.
• treat you like your a servant, not a server.
• forget that you're a human being because you're slinging drinks.

I love my job.

I actually really do. Fridays are just trying. Good reason to go out and drink your face off if I ever saw one. And by the by, the clothing launch was great, the Keno Lounge wasn't sunny, the daiquiris were okay, the appetizers were not appetizing or cheap, and instead of watching the Princess and the Warrior, I fell asleep on the couch watching something weird that i don't really remember on CBC. Oh, oh, oh. But not before making the best (worst?) "midnight snack" ever last night (this one's for you georgia):

Everything Potatoes

Start with leftover potatoes from camping last weekend that were wrapped in foil with garlic, butter, and coriander chutney and then cooked over an open flame. Heat in a pan with more butter. When heated through, add, oh, a tablespoon or so of cream cheese and two eggs. Break the shit out of those eggs, and stir for a bit. Cover to make the eggs set. Stir again. Pour onto plate and then back into the pan because you're sure the eggs aren't cooked. Stir some more, realize it's the cream cheese that's making it gooey, and return to plate. Cover with a lot (I mean a lot) of ketchup and hot sauce. S&P to taste.

And when that not quite enough, you've got to have a couple of sour cream and onion chips for dessert (?).

Why am I so disgusting?


Okay back to bed for me. Maybe I can salvage a bit of my morning in an hour.

you,ve just got to start freaking out about the living situation

The boys from the big house have all found places to live. (They received their eviction notice Saturday). Now it's my turn. Although I've received no formal eviction notice, it seems that i am just being made to feel uncomfortable to the point that I'll have to move out. Awesome.


At least work has been super fun of late. Last night, we were packed all night - and boy, what a crowd. Apparently, most of the casino staff (at least the ones we like who drink at Peggy's frequently) have Wednesday nights off. Sweet. The bell got rung twice (for those unaware of Dawson customs - you ring the bell, you buy a round for the entire house), so people were in a great mood. Mix that with some sweet cock rock, and, bang!, you've got yourself a party. Man, I love my job. You get to make people drunk (which is easily equated with making people happy here), you get to use your quick wit (which I'm really much better at these days), and you get to look good doing it. Basically, it's like throwing a wicked party every night. Only it's a free-for-all party, so, inevitably, a side risk is dealing with those douchebags that you didn't invite who just showed up and stick around way too long.

Best song of the night - Lola by the Kinks.

Best drink of the night - our new addition to the upcoming revamped martini list:

The Bush Pilot

2/3 ounce Wild Africa Cream
2/3 ounce Dark Creme de Cacao
2/3 ounce Stoli Vodka

Feel free to steal that one - I'm pretty sure we stole it from somewhere else, but it is sinfully delicious.

Best quotes of the night -

Patron: "You sure make bartending look like a noble job."
Me: "Thanks?"

Patron: "I know a trick to winning over a bartender. You know how you let a bartender know you're in the biz?"
Me: "How?"
Patron: "You order a Cuba Libre - you know how to make one of those?"
Me: "I sure do, but I'll tell you how let a bartender know you're in the "biz" - order an f-ing rum and coke with a lime, have your money ready, and tip big...." (awkward silence)
Patron: "I always thought you were supposed to order a Cuba Libre."
Me: "Yeah.... No."

Well, here's hoping tomorrow's warmer. Summer got the memo that it was supposed to be summer on the weekend, but must have lost it.